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Found 7 results

  1. Chapter I: Another Day With Them Wilson woke up from his slumber to the familiar feel of a slightly lumpy, yet comforting spring mattress. He sat up, and looked around, a bit confused. It was his old bedroom, back at the....well, others wouldn't call it a mansion. But Mister Higgsbury often referred to it as such. All the familiar things were there. A few blueprints lying on a wooden stool next to the bed, a bureau with a childhood photo of himself displayed in a wooden frame, a small metal toolbox with certain supplies. It all seemed so strange. What had happened...who knows how long ago? He looked at the wall facing his bed, where there was a rather old-looking calendar. By the looks of it, he had only been gone for one day. The days certainly seemed a lot longer. How could that be? He looked out his bedroom window, at the road leading up to the decrepid mansion. The twisting road and gnarled, leafless trees seemed so very unchanged. The skies were clear for a change. Wilson stepped back and shook his head in surprise. Was it all a dream? The man on the radio, the machine, the strange hands? All the things he had made in the strange wilderness were gone. Maybe it was all a fever dream of some sort. He hurried downstairs, and headed into the "living room", where the machine had been. It was gone, as if it had never existed. A thick line of static came from the radio. All the scientific equipment and lab animals were there, with an almost uncanny level of organization. Wilson stopped and shook his head even harder, the idea of it actually all not being real having trouble sinking in. A relieved sigh escaped the scientist's lips. He left the living room and headed into the main hall. On a golden stand was a fine black jacket and top hat. After what had just happened, maybe a break from science was in order. A bit of socializing would do the mind good. He put on the coat and top hat, and put his hand on the knob of the front door to leave, when suddenly, he heard something from the radio, just barely. A single, solitary, "Hey." Against better judgement, he walked back over to the radio. "Say, pal..." came the radio's voice. It was the exact same one from his strange dream. A wave of dread overtook Wilson. He slowly started to back away. "Hey! Pal, where do you think you're running off to?" Wilson couldn't bring himself to answer. He bolted back into the hall and out the door. He didn't want anything more to do with that voice. All he really wanted was to be as far away from that place as possible, for a while. Unfortunately, he didn't even make it down past the porch before he was stopped by two familiar, shadowy claws, transparent, yet visible, waiting for him. He barely had time to scream before they grabbed him, choking him and slowly pulling him into darkness. He could hear a loud hiss. He awoke again with a scream, this time returned to the smell of a fire pit that had just gone out, a spear at his side, and the cawing of a crow. That was a dream, instead. This land is Wilson's nightmare, one that is all too real.
  2. So, Mr.BlazingIce26 makes pixel art, and he writes "stories", but making two threads would make him seem a bit... entitled, eh? so, what does he do? he makes one, All purpose, all Fiction thread in which he can post his fanfiction (not that kind >.>) and his pixel art!, Behold! BOW BEFORE ME! Pixel art and writing like you've probably seen it before! Here's a bunch of pixel-art i did on my old thread, all wrapped up into one comfy PNG for all you file-size conscious people, And, for the promised fanfiction, the first chapter of which i also posted in a long, long forgotten thread, but the 2nd chapter (part 1 of it, mind you) Is brand new! Chapter 1 - Forbidden Knowledge Spoilered because it's a pretty big wall of text, and some of you may have read it before Chapter 2 - Part 1 - Say Pal, I awoke with a start, the first things I noticed as I awoke were the colors, they were all too.... much. The greens much too green, the yellows blindingly bright, hurt my eyes. After wiping the sleep out of my eyes I noticed a sort of *poof* to my left, I turned to look at it. The smoke cleared, and in its place stood a tall, dapper man, looking as if he were in his 40s, pale as a ghost. He looked down at me and uttered a few words. "Say pal, you don't look so good. You better find something to eat before night comes!" Weird, it seemed as if he emphasised the last part a bit more then the rest. Then he disappeared in the same cloud of smoke of which he appeared. Leaving me alone to contend with whatever forces were at work here, Heeding the mans advice, I started my search for sustenance, my niece completely driven from my mind by the events at hand. ------------------------------------- Hope you enjoy'd the arts and the reads, as more will becoming soon, and if you didn't, well, you clicked on the thread, not me.
  3. Welcome to The Don't Starve Best of The Month Page! Basic Page Information What Exactly Is this page about? Each month I'll pick out the best of the Don't Starve Fan lore, Videos, Cosplay, and Art and post it here! (Of course with the permission of the original post creators) How Could you contribute? Link up your favorite Don't Starve Lore page or art work(Cosplay and Videos are very much appreciated) in the section below I read all the comments so I can't miss it. When is the Page Updated? Friday or Thursday nights upon the end of each month. (Central Pacific Time) Want your Art(and or Cosplay) or post sponsored here? Just ask and link me up to the the art or page and I'll check it out. This Months Best Artwork! Willow and Chester All Credit Goes to Muffycake She did all the work I am just displaying it on a page. Here is the original Post http://forums.kleientertainment.com/topic/21890-muffycake-some-of-my-dont-starve-fan-art/ Here is her profile http://forums.kleientertainment.com/user/249276-muffycake/ This Months BEST Cosplay! Wendy All Credit Goes to Cyanea for this Excellent cosplay of Wendy Original post http://forums.kleientertainment.com/topic/29419-cosplay-wendy/ Cyanea's profile http://forums.kleientertainment.com/user/302741-cyanea/ This Months Best Video! The History of Maxwell lore Seriously a awesome Video Credit goes to TeoSS69 for the Post Courtesy of @Craig_Perry and @d2r Original Forum post http://forums.kleientertainment.com/topic/29232-maxwells-final-act/ TeoSS69 Profile http://forums.kleientertainment.com/user/243891-teoss69/ CREATING THE VIDEO Credit Goes to Klei Enterntainment Klei youtube channel https://www.youtube.com/user/kleient This Months Best Lore/Post! "What if Webber's father was....Wilson? Wilson is canonically is like 30 y/o, so he could have son. And he teached Webber to shave. And, maaybe, Wilson hates spiders SO much because it ate his son?? "~Kenny1889 This is some of the weirdest lore I've read But it gets pretty funny if you read the comment section http://forums.kleientertainment.com/topic/34137-about-webber/?hl=lore Creators Profile http://forums.kleientertainment.com/user/256059-kenny1889/
  4. I'm going to write a short, all OC story! View the rules and other important notes in the link. No account is needed to send in OC's, and no limit on the amount of OC's you can send in. See you there! Greets from Tjally RULES AND SEND IN: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9817276/1/What-will-pass
  5. About the only thing I can say right now is that, in a few chapters, the title of this tale will make a whole lot more sense. That and this goes way past the game's official "ending". :3 Any critique is greatly appreciated, as I am fully aware that this, like anything made by humanity, isn't perfect. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Show Me This Life Prologue He's lost track of the number of times he's died and been forced to reawaken on this same isolated island trapped within an alternate, still unknown world. The many skeletons and items surrounding the land that he has found, he knew they were all his by now. He had been fighting the urge to just down and cry out in building insanity, but the lonely man knew that would just restart the cycle of life and death once more by drawing various predators with his tears. Even now, as he watched the flickering lights from the campfire in front of him, he still fought the urge, even as it gnawed away at his dwindling sanity. As he did every night, while sitting cross-legged near the fire, he covered his eyes with open hands and focused solely on his breathing. For a fleeting moment, he had regained a spark of peace once more to help him combat the monster of insanity that was trying to break from its chains within his mind. "I guess this is my punishment for being so greedy," the man commented to himself before removing his hands from his face and looked upon one of his palms, seeing the long scar going clear across it that has never properly healed. "Even if it was truly forbidden knowledge, it's never worth what happens in the end..." Looking up toward the sky, he spotted the sun slowly starting to rise higher and higher, revealing his appearance to any who could see him, not that it currently mattered, he was all alone... He just wished that the next death would finally be his last; he was losing any will he had left to fight and survive... ~*~*~*~*~ "Uncle Wilson! It's time for....Uncle?" A young girl holding a well-loved teddy bear in her arms had emerged in the attic floor of the house of her scientific adoptive father, surprised for a second to see her uncle's body lying prone in front of the strangest machine she's ever seen him built. "Uncle?!" Running over to the man then kneeling beside him, she tried to shake him awake in hopes that he has simply passed out once more from a failed experiment. However, no matter how hard she shook, he wouldn't awaken. It was clear that he was still alive, however. He was still breathing. "WOLFGANG!" the little girl belted out loudly as she ran out of the house as fast as her legs could carry her. After roughly an half an hour, the girl reappeared with a rather burly man, his eyes falling upon the strange machine in front of the body. "Willow, I think the machine worked..." What the man lacked in intelligence, he made up for in strength and instinct, and he was staring at the monstrous machine upon his entry fiercely. "I need you to move Uncle into bed for me, Wolfgang. You know he's too heavy for me to lift," the little girl called Willow responded just before Wolfgang carefully picked up the unconscious Wilson before laying him back down on the bed nearby. "I don't like that thing, Willow," Wolfgang spoke with a serious tone. His muscles twitched as the urge to smash that thing to bits became quite obvious. Willow broke her gaze from the unmoving man toward the machine that stood center of the room. It creeped her out for some reason. Even so, she reached her hand out toward the lever, and the last thing she remembered was a group of black hands reaching out to her and pulling her in toward the machine that had now opened its maw...
  6. (I am by no means a noob to creative writing, but this IS my first attempt at a DS fan fiction, so feel free to give me any feedback or suggestions! Enjoy! ) Don’t Starve Wilson’s Lament A mortified, disheveled Wilson P. Higgsbury burst through the berry bushes, in a clearing in the forest glen. His hair and clothes were sprinkled with twigs and leaves, and his fine suit was torn where his body had been scratched, but still, at least he was alive. As Wilson stood there, gasping for breath, he listened as the sound of the roaring Hounds faded out into a mixture of angry Tallbirds chirping by the rock fields, pecking away at the beasts’ furry hides. They probably found a defenseless egg more appetizing and easier to catch than human scientist armed with an axe. With a sigh of both relief and exhaustion, Wilson trudged to an open flower field, about two hundred feet away from the unwelcoming pig village, which shut him out of their wooden huts the minute the sun hit the horizon. The evening quickly waned on into night, a half moon rising over the exhausted scientist. He was cooking a couple of carrots over his campfire, and had wrapped his wounds with a poultice made of honey and fresh reeds from a nearby marsh, lest the deformed mosquitoes that lived there tried to get to his blood first. Wilson ate his meager meal with caution, listening warily to the sounds of insects chirping, Hounds howling, and snoring Beefalo. The noises were scattered near and far, but it was impossible to see anything in the thick blackness that surrounded the campfire. Wilson gazed sadly at the fire, his troubled mind lost in thought. Why did Maxwell send him to this harsh wilderness? Why does this god-like stranger delight in torturing him? Why did he believe every word of that “secret knowledge” if there wasn’t any indication as to where it came from? And, probably the answer Wilson begged for the most, how would he ever get back home? The island was completely unfamiliar, there were no other humans on it, and judging by all the mythical flora and fauna, it probably wasn’t even in this dimension! It seemed like ages since he had reached out to any friends or family, so who would ever think to look for him? Wilson supposed he had himself to blame for that one. He’d practically thrown away his social life when he chose to stay secluded in that laboratory in the middle of the forest. He had no company other than that of his test tubes, foot notes, lab rats, and shelves of books. If he were to make a successful breakthrough all on his own back home, who would he show it to? Who would be there to marvel at his accomplishments, or lend him a helping hand if it didn’t succeed? It was heartbreaking to think that the only voice of companionship he’d heard in that cabin turned out to be an elaborate puppet show. To shut yourself out of the world is one thing; to be shut out is another. Poor Wilson began to cry as he buried his head in his knees. As much as he hated being stuck on this island, the experience had opened his eyes to realize how lonely he truly was. He’d taken the chances for potential friendship for granted, dismissing it to toil away on an experiment without an observer, a performance without an audience. Crying wasn’t going to get him off the island, either, but after being so desperate to flood his mind with knowledge, Wilson needed some time to clear it out, to drain it of the distress and terror that made him too overwhelmed to think straight. Finally, by morning, Wilson had calmed down. He dried his eyes to see the sun rising in the teal-blue sky. With a small smile and a deep breath, Wilson got back on his feet, and held his axe over his shoulder; he had a lot of work to do over the next few days. The End
  7. Ladies and Gentlemen, I am Rayze Darr, author of the discontinued story "The 'Don't Starve' Program." Now, issues with my ideas for the story have stopped me from continuing it at this time, but in the mean time, I'd still like to do some writing about the "Don't Starve" universe. My answer? Poetry! Yes, my good men and women, I will be writing "Don't Starve" themed poems! These will mainly be based off of canon "Don't Starve" facts and lore, but I may, later down the road, sneak in some poems based on my ideas for my remake of my "Don't Starve" fan fiction. That being said, I would also like to post the name I currently have in my mind to title the new story for when it comes, and seek feedback on it. Maxwell Presents: The Don't Starve Prime Time Extravaganza! The new story, as I'm currently plotting, will follow the same premise. "Don't Starve" is a 24-hour TV program that anyone in the world can tune in to at any time, allowing them to follow the "contestant" in real-time. Maxwell serves as both game master and host. As for new ideas...-Rather than first person, the story shall be told from a third person perspective... Maxwell's! -A timeline, allowing readers to follow events in the order they come. -Sub-chapters, single chapters that will follow an entire, minor character's adventure, and death, in the world. -A prequel! Taking place before Wilson, Wendy, etc. were even heard of. This also allows me to use more... -Original characters! I'm currently brainstorming a geeky, yet lovable, female as the main character. So yes, this topic serves two purposes. One, feedback on my in-progress "Don't Starve" fan-fiction, which I will not even begin to write until after Launch. Two, to showcase some more of my "Don't Starve" work and perspective in the form of poetry. Please, do enjoy the poems that I have come up with! Though I will only post one to start, more will come as I find inspiration in the "Don't Starve" world. And finally, I love you all! Maxwell A watcher, a player, and god of this realm, The tyrant whose hand sits so tight on the helm, Creating whatever events he sees fit, For the suffering pawns he seeks to overwhelm. Despised though he is by the damned he controls, He still dictates their fates with each die that he rolls, From the marsh to the forest and all lands between, It is he who’s behind all these rising death tolls, It is he who controlled every moment we’ve seen, From the plains to the quarries that ended our goals. A madman, a genius, a demon some say, For no others would work human lives like a play, Or would they all do so were they given the chance? For there’s nothing else he’d rather do with his day. And he must be stopped, all his little pawns cry, But before they can do so they’ll all surely die, Because they are on his field and his battleground, And they cannot win despite how hard they try, And they cannot fathom that he’s all around, Because they hold on to the most beautiful lie. Each small blade of grass is created by hand, He’s forged every snowflake that touches the land, And crafted the monsters that call it their home, With his pawns’ lifeless bodies his personal brand. So abandon all hope, should you land in his sight, And come ready to die or come ready to fight. The game master waits to lay claim to your ghost, To strike down the heroes with furious might, To strike down the heroes the world loves the most, The game master waits in the darkness of night.