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Found 158 results

  1. Wilson, being a Gentleman Scientist, having experience experimenting with blood and animals etc., should be able to do deal with the Disease situation in DST. Disease in DST is very annoying to deal with properly, and is outright disabled in most megabase Worlds. With Wilson being able to remedy this, Disease as a proper game mechanic will only get stronger. p.s. This is just too on topic for the global situation for it to not happen. p.p.s. Wilson had better healing powers in The Forge; maybe he can do the same for plants, too!
  2. d Welcome to my thread! I got into the lore of Don't Starve thanks to my buddy @toki-wartoothxx. Hopefully I can get the game in the future but thanks to non-game materials like the comics and animations by Klei, I can appreciate the world building before I get to play the game itself. Steam summer sale wooohooooo Ready to play and maybe make comics and study sketches about. Such material inspired me to make art. Here's what I've drawn so far: Wilson and Pines Twins find Apophenia Lio has a Kodak moment with Maxwell William Carter's Liminality And some non-DS related art with the game style: Klei's Herbert West Don't Starve Bob, it's alright Don't let the league starve This page for my non-Don't Starve art. This page for my Oxygen Not Included art. This page for my Invisible Inc. art. This page for my Griftlands related art This page for my Hot Lava art To do list: Commission Quest: Info on Skeledork Skeledork interpretations: Comics: skeledork expressions: Art by my father Works featured on streams Update: 6-28-2016 Thread gets a updated title, hopefully it doesn't confuse things. Update: 6-29-2016 About to get the game, added a greeting. Update: 7-4-2016 Got the game, thank god. Update: 7-12-2016 To do list Update: 7-19-2016 Interpretation section Update: 8-28-2016 oc posts
  3. Henlo I always wanted to interact with the forums, I think I can fit in here I make tons of memes and the funnies. Oh, and I draw too. Known on tumblr or any other sites as DragonheadSkilax or any variant of that name. (find more art on tungle) I main Wes. Here is my dank arts:
  4. Hey everyone! I just wanted to share a comic that I've been posting on DA for the past couple days. Hopefully this will be turning into a Summer Project for me to keep me busy while I wait away the time between the conventions I sell at. If you want to see them at my DA as well as my other art, check here. http://autobotgirl.deviantart.com/ Done in Photoshop.
  5. So I've already shared this theory with my other DS/T friends, but has anyone else noticed the uncanny amount of similarities and... coincidences between Webber and Wilson? Does anyone else find it convenient that Webber's father just so happened to be a gentlemanly, bearded scientist? Why would Wilson have such a weird, seemingly random tendency towards parental behaviors? (Bonus points to his Very Specific fixation on babies) I wonder what sorts of things a father might say if, for all he knew, his only child had been lost or killed, never to be seen again, on account of being spirited away from home? Oh. Well, if there was no body to be found, they'd never have gotten a proper funeral, would they? Let's move on. Ever notice how they share a disproportionate amount of similar examination quotes? To the point where some of them are almost verbatim? There's a lot. A looooooot. And sure, you can argue that I'm reaching for some of these, but a lot of them are almost impossible to tell apart without either knowing them on your own, or without Webber using plural pronouns for themselves. Moving along, though, Webber and Wilson both seem pretty nostalgic about the farm houses. Looks a little familiar, I'd say. Worth noting that Wilson has a Literal Headstone in front of his house. Sure, it looks a little rickety and handmade, but what do you even grieve to when your son's body was never found? Then there's this: Which kinda speaks for itself. Then there's a few final similarities. I mean it sounds funny but they both grow beards. They're both arguably the easiest characters to unlock in their respective games, with Wilson being the default character in the vanilla game and Webber being significantly easier than Wigfrid to unlock, unless you've already got a lot of EXP. I mean, sure, Wilson never explicitly makes it known nor clear that he used to be a father, that's true enough. But why would he be the only one to recognize Webber's skull as a child's? Would you want to regularly talk about the loss of your only child? And hey, it took SEVEN YEARS for Wendy to be confirmed as Maxwell's niece, about anything's possible. And it would at least partially explain why Wilson was such an asocial hermit living in a shack in the woods who became desperate enough to listen to a talking radio. One last thing to point out is that every other person who has canonically been on the Nightmare Throne has had at least one family member in the Constant. Maxwell/Wendy, Charlie/Winona. Just all very convenient.
  6. After the Walter update, I've been thinking why Wilson isn't very strong compared to the rest of the roster. I think he needs more utility than the beard. Please comment your own ideas or modify mine. My idea is to in addition to what I have below; have him start out with the science machine already prefab and ready to place. Main idea is to give him a unique craft: an alchemy engine helmet. Cost 5 gold, 2 Pigskin and 2 Boneshards, recipe already known. The alchemy engine helmet reduces damage by 70% and the same durability and wetness protection and insulation as the football helm. What it can do is let you and people around craft alchemy engine recipes while wearing one. In addition the alchemy engine helmet can go up to 200% durability and can be repaired with by unlocking new recipes or with more doodads. I think with these upgrades Wilson will help new players since they can get a backpack and shovel without needing to find gold. It'll also encourage more experienced new players to explore different places since the helmet requires you to find gold boulders or trade with the pig king, pig heads or houses, and skeletons. Also very experienced players will also take interest in Wilson due to the previously mentioned earlier backpack but also the efficiency the helmet will bring, not needing to run back to base to craft anything and have more inventory space by having structures prefabed like chests and bunny hutches.
  7. Skellington on the Island Edited by: @Arlesienne Chapter 1: Voice of the radio Once upon a Halloween, the Halloween Town awards were roaring in town hall. The Mayor was awarding the citizens of the town their talents. He congratulated their local hero, Jack Skellington, for how spectacular it was. The pumpkin king agreed to his friend, bowing with respect. Lights dimmed down as the festivities were at a close. With another Halloween almost over, the huge grand guignol of the town had turned silent(much to the skeleton's relief). Yet with that relief, a sensation nagged at the back of his skull. Needing inspiration once again. Jack headed behind the stage curtains and let his true thoughts come out as a external monologue. "Something's missing... There's got to be a way to make Halloween more hideous, more terrifying, more frightening-" He slowed out a sigh with defeat in his frustration. "This just can't go on... You've got to do better, Jack." Heading home, Jack went to sit on his bed in thought, the lack of inspiration causing him to stoop, the chin resting on his hands as the hours drifted by. Then... A odd static sound could be heard. Causing Jack to stiffen in confusion. His head turned, eye sockets widening to the sound of a radio. Hey pal... That radio Sally got me for Christmas? Jack wondered to himself as he approached it. The Voxola radio continued to make static, even to Jack's surprise of it not being plugged in. "Hello...?" Jack tried to play its game. Having trouble finding a reason for the season? "Oh. I do. Trying to find new scares. It's... Not as fun as it used to be." Jack rubbed the back of his neck with a look of regret to the floor. The radio got to him and he couldn't help but agree. I can give you that inspiration... If you'll let me. "Maybe later." Jack quickly denied, waving a hand in disagreement. "I'll think about it though." Standing up, he backed toward the door. For a master of terror, the radio really left him unnerved. He headed over to his dear friend Doctor Finklestine's laboratory to seek counsel. "A new Halloween...?" The doctor asked while gazing into his advanced microscope, multitasking as Jack's confidence came back again. "A fresh, new and improved Halloween, doctor. After last year, we can't just do the same old thing." The skeleton's sense of showmanship just sifted through. "We should all be inspired to do something different!" He walked over to Finklestine. The doctor now gazing at his examples. Yet Jack continued. "We need new scares, new ideas, new discoveries!" Finklestine cocked his head with interest. "New discoveries, eh? I think I have just the kind of thing you're talking about." The good doctor reached under his table, picking up a fairly large glass container. Its contents being something eldritch. Alive. Finklestine placed it on the table. "I call it the soul robber. Take it, Jack." Yet the creature wasn't being patient. It bounced around the container trying to be free. Jack gingerly outstretched a hand to the jar, the fingers hesitant, trying hard to be careful. The doctor pressed on. "I'm sure it will come in handy." Agreeing to the reassurance, Jack placed his hand on the lid, suddenly not finding it as difficult as he perceived it to be. Like a leech, it sprang onto his arm. Clutching tight for dear life. Jack was taken back, letting out a gasp of surprise. Yet nothing of anger, rather the opposite. Carefully, Jack swung his arm lightly around in curiosity. Taking this in all at once. Unfortunately the action of just a slight swing caused the creature to break one of Finklestine's materials from a distance. The creature jotted out to grab a item and return to Jack's wrist. "Amazing!" The pumpkin king pleasantly exclaimed at the soul robber's display. He turned to find Finklestine driving away in his wheelchair to give himself space to look at Jack. "Exactly, doctor, exactly! That settles it. I'll head out in search of more new discoveries for next year's Halloween!" The confidence just overpowered from the new batch of inspiration pouring in. Calming down, Jack took a few steps in front of Finklestine. "Doctor, please watch after things while I'm away. I just know you'll keep things in check." There was a curious smirk on the good doctor's face. "Oh... Now I'm certainly looking forward to next Halloween." He rolled away with Jack staring for a few minutes in thought. He broke free from his daze with a shaking of the head and headed for out of town. A grin from side to side as Jack just knew he was going to have a edifying experience. Running to the graveyard and onto... Spiral Hill? Someone's standing on the hill, Jack thought to himself. He stopped for a moment. Eye sockets trying to get a good look at the tall figure. Step by step, he tried to get a good look at the man standing in front of the moon. The bright round shape framing him in view like a portrait. Jack had to stop. He knew the man was staring back at him. Trying to break free from his concern, he got closer to the man. "Hello? Are you lost?" Jack asked, hoping for the man to speak. Though with just a second, the man finally moved. Head tilting with a subtle meanness to it. "No, you are..." Pal. The voice from the radio! Jack took a step back. Feeling a tingle up his spinal column. "How?" "I think you know what I mean. Loss in inspiration." The tall man walked up to Jack. Hands behind his back as though he had a regal air about him. Jack could only notice now that the man looked like a twisted reflection of himself. Thin limbs, a swallow tail coat... Jack shook his head, trying to ignore the observation. "I can give you what you want, just give me your hand." The stranger outstretched his arm out to Jack. He smirked with a cold stare. Pupils so tiny and black, it paled to the expressive wide sockets of Jack's. Yet they wouldn't look away from Jack's position. Shaking his head, Jack took some more steps back. He wasn't sure why he didn't just ignore him but the stare got to Jack. Tutting, the man in the swallowtail coat was just a few inches away. "For a man who loves fear, you're not really appreciating what I have to offer." "This is different. Not when I don't know who I'm dealing with." "True. Yet you're not listening. I can give you what you want with no consequences. Just trust me." Jack took back at the statement. Thinking back to all the times he tried to trust Lock, Shock, and Barrel. What if this was the same? Could he take this chance? "I don't know." Jack glanced down, hands turning into fists. The stranger's hand reached out again politely. "Just trust me." Within one silent minute, time slowed down, leaving separate images behind. Jack's body, stiff in the confrontation. Giving in after a while feeling longer than it really was. A shaky arm reaching out to the stranger. With uncertainty, taking the hand. Before he knew it, the shadows from the epithets and the hill stretched out to Jack. The pumpkin king tried to fight the man's grip by wrestling the arm free, but not even the soul robber could protect him. He tried to walk back to pry the hand off but the grinning stranger just stood there without even moving. Jack's eyes gazed as the shadows crawled up his body like hands, slithering up quickly to devour him. Skellington knew he couldn't escape this as he felt his body lower into the dirt, his sockets watching the grinning stranger stare down. Welcome to the shadows... Pal. To be continued... https://forums.kleientertainment.com/profile/848109-minespatch/?status=26224&type=status Future chapter titles and discussion.
  8. Alright so. Be me, ruggedly handsome Wilson main. walk walk fashion baby. So I join a Klei server in its very, very early days, like day eight. Things get set up quick, and I help out with planting resources. Slow start, but we have fun. Then. THEN. Conversation occurs. I forget how exactly it started, but we had a fun time talking about our headcanons! Come winter, we already had some wonderful in-jokes. We'd put up some signs as, like, camp laws. It was great. Took down Deerclops, too, and almost starved. Had a bunch of birds named DJ Grooves who I all ate. But the best parts come around the beginning of Spring. This was when people started to leave, and my game crashed upon picking up a lantern. Everyone was gone, and the Wortox and I decided to take on Bee Queen. We subsequently did not defeat Bee Queen. But, food was getting scarce, so we made a run for the caves. Someone showed up, died, and didn't leave, so there was a worse sanity drain than usual. Even worse, it started to rain. I was the only one with an umbrella. True love was achieved. Then we both died to bunnymen and insanity and the camp got taken over by a lureplant. There's my life story, folks. Hope you enjoyed =:)
  9. i saw 'in character stories' as a thing so might as well copy paste a drabble i did a lil while ago detailing the events of a past playthrough i've talked abt before (mods tell me if i can't insert a link like that) so yeah! here's a quick in character drabble from the perspective of the wilson i was playing, enjoy =:3 It was the third day of spring, I think, when I noticed our food sources getting low. Hungry and, well, curious, I decided to go on a search for food in the caverns below. Before that, Wortox (was that his name? The goat-Krampus-thing?) suggested we both take on the Bee Queen by camp. Stupidly, I donned my helmet, grabbed a spear, put on the old Thuelicite chestplate poor Webber had given me before his passing (I still cry over it) and headed out. As expected for a man facing a giant bee, I nearly died. Wortox ran around while I got hunted down by bees. Not fun. Anywho, we waited a day to prepare (and use the last of our rations. Great thinking, Higgsbury!) and then ran for the sinkhole, leaving that Woodie guy to fend for the camp. After we descended (I got caught on the rope), Wortox threw a campfire together for me as I gained my bearings. Through the cave ambience, we managed to hear screaming about how something was at camp. Wortox later came to find it was a Lureplant. In our messy, item-filled camp. Whee. Halfway through the cave trip, it began to pour. We didn't really have anywhere to take shelter, and I only had a flimsy, on-the-spot umbrella that I had to share with the demon. I am now questioning my orientation. Anyway, we got rained on, and it rained hard enough that I ended up completely saturated with rainwater. My sanity was slipping, and we just so happened to only have meats on us, so the nearby bunnymen hounded us. Beaten, insane, and utterly wet, I yelled out in desperation for Wortox to take everything off my corpse as I died. He did so as I re-awoke at my effigy, clean shaven and freezing. I hate spring. i haven't written wilson since like. 5th grade so dfadsfsdfa apologies if this is ooc! also tell me if this needs to be moved to a seperate DST art thread or something! im real new so i havent really got a grasp on how things work yet!
  10. Ok so I realized that a couple people actually like my DS comic: Wilson meets Red. So I decided to post it here with a couple other crossover art pieces. Comic page 1: Page 2 part 1: Page 2 part 2: Comic page 3: I personally love some of Red's expressions in the first two pages XD Here are a few others I did before/during the comic. Science Machine: Carrots: Wilson's Squirrel Problem: And lastly, comic page 4: --- Fanart showcase (I know I've already posted these in my off-topic art thread but I wanted to show them here and in the ONI thread too). These will be mostly focusing on DS OCs, character interactions and related art styles. Also sorry in advance if you guys see your old art and cringe ^^;
  11. I have loved this game for a while now- the art style, the mechanics, the wonderful characters, the strange environment and creatures, the rich but mysterious background lore, Klei's teasing us with puzzles outside the game - but something I always found of the most interest was the official timeline for the game, and one simple aspect of it. Why was Wilson the last one captured? Why did Maxwell seem to have to go out of his way to trap him by getting him to make a portal? What are the long-term consequences of moving all these people on both worlds? What other secrets might unravel if a little light is shed upon them? Just a few of the things I decided to look at as I delved into my exploration and interpretation of the lore through this writing. I plan to post some art as well, but until I've practice enough to where I'm comfortable with how I'm drawing this wonderful universe, please enjoy this first installment of my literary ramblings. ____________________________________________________________________________________________ Don't Starve Together - Lineage * Chapter 1 * The sky… it was always the same. No matter how many seasons had passed, how many places he’d been, the sky always remained the same - a pale, slightly grayish canvas with no variation, except on the occasions when rain was coming. The sky, however, was not the problem. Wilson sighed from where he was laying in the grass, letting his head tilt over to the side, gazing blearily at the activity a few yards from him, that of his fellow survivors busily at work building up their camp. Their newest camp at any rate; which one this was he’d lost count of now. Their latest rebuild after a world wiped clean by Charlie after they had all been killed. Just when it seemed like they might be gaining ground, getting into a position where perhaps they could live a somewhat comfortable, if unusual life, something always happened to destroy it all. Wilson let his head roll back towards the sky, closing his eyes and just laying there. He heard the footsteps of someone approaching him and stopping just short. He didn’t bother to open his eyes. “Hey Wilson… Are you alright?” It was Willow. “No.” There was a long pause. If she’d been waiting for Wilson to elaborate, it wasn’t coming. “The camp’s almost done, and Warly’s making lunch. Do you want to come sit by the fire? It’s kinda cold today,” Willow would coax. “No.” “Wigfrid found some gold, and we still have supplies, maybe you’d like to put the science machine together?” Wilson didn’t answer this time, rolling over onto his side facing away from Willow, eyes remaining closed. Willow scratched the back of her head with a frown, realizing that was probably not the best thing to have said. “Well, okay… we’ll be over here if you want to join us. We’ll save some lunch for you.” It wasn’t until Willow had walked away that Wilson would frown, giving another sigh. It was the blasted science machine that had caused the trouble this time - Wilson had been too occupied with fiddling with it, having an itch at the back of his mind that maybe there was something he hadn’t found yet, some secrets the gizmo had not show him yet among the clutter of broken thoughts and persistent inklings of information that the Forbidden Knowledge had left him when Maxwell had given it to him. The only part of that information that had ever been clear was the designs of the portal, the rest of the information was scattered chaos that only the strange mechanisms of the science machine and the alchemy engine seemed to help bring into focus in his mind. He often wondered if that was intentional or if Maxwell simply didn’t have any control of it, or even bothered to care, when he’d shoved it into Wilson’s head. It was in that focus, fiddling with the machine and grasping at the ideas just out of his reach, that he’d been too distracted to hear the sounds of the coming Deerclops before it was right on top of the base. The only one at the base at that time, and Wilson too absorbed in his work, he’d been taken down easily, as were the others as they trickled back to camp, or were taken down by the hounds that attacked soon after. An ‘extraordinarily ill-turn of events’ Wickerbottom had described it in the aftermath as they were all put back to life and dumped back on the newly rebuilt world; or perhaps they had just been dumped on one of the numerous islands that Maxwell had built that they just hadn’t been to yet, it was anyone’s guess. Wilson however was convinced it had happened because of his messing with the science machine. The timing was just too perfect, it had to have been punishment from Charlie for whatever it was Wilson was trying to work out. The others had tried to convince him otherwise, of course, but Wilson’s depression remained. The worst of it was when they were revived. Any other time, regardless of the circumstances, he remembered everything he’d learned, but whenever they all died, when every physical possession was taken from them, so too was the progress of his understanding the knowledge robbed from Wilson. A reminder it wasn’t actually his, perhaps, and a bitter reminder that he was still failing to discover anything original of any significance in his explorations as a scientist. It made Wilson cringe, curling up and trying to push the thoughts from his mind. By all things he held dear, he was never a religious man, but if a Hell truly existed, it was this wretched place. “Is Mr. Wilson going to be okay?” Webber asked, looking across the campfire they were all sitting around, having their meal. “He’ll be alright, deary. He’s lost his confidence, but that should mend in time,” Wickerbottom would say in a comforting tone. “It was a rough transition this time.” “Aye. Bad omens still hang in the air,” Wigfrid would say. “Well he’s being stupid!” Willow would snap. “He needs to stop being a dork and do some work. That sort of stuff can happen to anyone! Remember when Woody had us set up camp near that giant forest and we wound up with ten tree guards invading the camp at night? Or when Wolfgang got lost and didn’t make it back to the Antlion in time to calm that baby down. And I don’t even want to talk about the Varg.” “I said I was sorry!” Warly grimaced. “I didn’t realize the tracks circled back towards camp, it was dark!” “Point is we all got over it and got back to work. Sulking isn’t going to help us get control of the situation again,” Willow huffed. “Control is a fleeting illusion to comfort one’s self in the face of their mortality,” Wendy spoke placidly. “You need to get a hobby, kid,” Willow, looking at her weirdly. “And not like the last time. You know, when you were just staring at the skeletons all day…” “For now it’s just best to give Mr. Higgsbury his space until he’s settled down,” Wickerbottom would say. “He’s never been one to give up. He was the one out of all of us that made it to Maxwell, after all. He met his death a hundred times but he kept after him until he finally reached him. But everyone needs a rest, now in then. He’ll be back to it in time.” The rest of the day carried on without incident - wood was gathered, grass cut, twigs collected, rabbits terrified… Wilson eventually came into the camp to sit by the fire but he would not eat anything, just staring into the flames, brooding. The others brought him materials, but Wilson did little more than push the materials around with a twig that he had been using to poke the fire, not directly touching any of it. Really anyone could have built the science machine, but the more technical items always seemed to work better when Wilson built them (much to Winona’s ire), and they were probably hoping him playing scientist would bring him out of his funk. Playing. That’s all I ever did with any of my education. I’m a hobbyist, not a scientist. “Well this is a lovely picture. A shame you couldn’t have been this well behaved before. We all would have been in better situations.” “Go away, Maxwell,” Wilson said dully, not looking up at the obnoxious man. This only prompted the magician to sit down beside him though. Wilson tried to ignore him, but a puff of smoke in his direction would cause him to start coughing, breaking his composure. “Damn it Maxwell, take that somewhere else! Where did you even find a cigar around here?! We were all just revived!” “I don’t find them, I make them. I’ve learned to be resourceful after you so rudely removed me from my throne,” Maxwell spoke, still with his tone of royalty. “It’s hard work to acquire the finer things in life here, and I shall enjoy them where I please.” “You haven’t done any hard work since the day we decided to let you stay in the group with us instead of running you off for kidnapping all of us, or executing you on sight every time you revived,” Wilson growled. “Try bringing in a full day’s worth of cutting logs, or gathering stone.” “Now why should I do that when I have all the rest of you better suited to sweating to do such things?” Wilson didn’t bother to pursue the conversation, too tired and irritated at the course of the day. Instead he went upwind of the fire and Maxwell’s cigar before putting down a bed roll. Maybe this could all just be one convoluted nightmare from the fumes of his chemistry equipment and he would wake up in his own bed… “Sweet dreams, Higgsbury.” * * * A forest dense with foliage, and shrouded by the dark of the night, made worse by a veil of thin fog hanging in the air. All was quiet aside from the occasional brushing sound of the leaves as they were traveled through. Ahead, a slow, continuous movement in the fog, a bushy tail, that of a red fox, who occasionally looked back at the one following it. Eventually the forest gave way to a clearing, an open hill upon which a house sat abandoned, beginning to decay. The fox paused, looking back again and making a brief noise, then began to prowl forward towards the house, slowly circling and approaching it with caution. The back was in worse shape, a hole torn by lightning and fire, a portion of the floors above collapsed by the strain of a great weight. Among the rubble something sat awkwardly, shrouded by the darkness and the rubble. A machine… * * * Mmm… that dream again… I wonder if Maxwell’s causing it… Wilson sat up, rubbing the side of his head to chase out the cobwebs as he roused. He was having it frequently now, the dream of how his house had aged. Every time he had the dream he got a little closer to the house. If that was him. He was never sure if that was supposed to be himself in the dream following the fox, or if he was meant to be something else and seeing through their eyes. Really he didn’t even know why there was a fox in the dream either, other than that it was one of the few critters that remained around the place after he had moved in. Most other wildlife seemed to have moved out after the first fire, but occasionally he’d see a curious fox poking around in the bushes at the edge of the clearing, or being brazen enough in the evening to investigate his trashcans. Perhaps in his mind that was the only creature bold enough to venture up to his house after he’d cursed it with building that portal. Or maybe it was just the fact that red was his favorite color, and it was the first thing his mind went to when filling the cast for a half-lucid nigh time delusion. Wilson pushed the dream out of his mind as he rubbed his eyes, taking in stock of the camp. It was already mid-day, most of the rest of their ‘troop’ had already gotten to work or otherwise left the camp. I should get to work too. No reason for me to be to be a lazy leech like Maxwell living off of other people’s work. Sulking isn’t going to get anything done. Wilson took a moment to take a deep breath, then gave one final sigh. “Alright science, time to get to it.” The rest of the day went quickly by, the bounty of resources provided by the other survivors making Wilson’s work go swiftly. Perhaps he wasn’t fully losing the knowledge, as he was remembering what materials went into his creations, it was just a matter of remembering how to put everything together, like a word on the tip of your tongue struggling to get out without a hint. Or maybe Maxwell and Charlie were somehow blocking the knowledge just to inconvenience me into doing everything all over again. Wilson decided not to dwell on it, instead throwing himself into making gear for everyone from the materials they’d provided. By the time dusk had arrived, he had assembled a backpack for everyone, each loaded with goods and tools, even one for Maxwell, though he suspected it would go unused. Wilson was finally starting to feel pretty good about the situation, until a familiar smokey scent caught his nostrils. “Well it’s about time, Higgsbury,” Maxwell spoke as he came up behind Wilson, smoking that cigar again. Or maybe it was a new one, Wilson couldn’t tell. “Maxwell, just what is it in there you’re smoking?” The scientist would ask. Maxwell seemed briefly surprised, then gave Wilson a suspicious look. “Why the sudden interest in my recreation, Higgsbury?” “I had a weird dream last night. The last time I had it you were also smoking one of those cigars that same night.” “Ah. Allay your fears, my furry friend, I don’t have anything hallucinogenic in my cigars. Any delusions your twisted little mind might be dreaming up are strictly your own fault.” “My fault?” Now Wilson was irritated. “I don’t know, I would think perhaps the person who kidnapped me into a twisted. nightmarish version of a wilderness might have the most to do with any weird dreams I’m having.” “Ah, but I didn’t kidnap you,” Maxwell countered. “I just gave you some knowledge that might be useful, and pointed out an interesting little gizmo. You were the one who decided to build and test it, with some minimal encouragement from me. I can’t help it that you never realized that without anything else to offer in your place, that you’d wind up being the test subject for it.” That, for Wilson, was the last straw on his already worn-thin patience. With no more warning the dropping the tool he had been working with, the scientist turned on Maxwell to attack him. Wilson had little time to do more than grab Maxwell before the others at camp intervened, separating them before the scientist could strangle the magician or worse. “That’s it! I’m done with this!! I’m tired of being your passive little punching bag, Maxwell!” Wilson shouted from where Willow and Wigfrid were holding him back, Wolfgang having grabbed Maxwell by the scruff of his suit to keep him out of reach of Wilson, barely. “Easy now there, lad. No need to get riled up over that dark mage’s mangy hide,” Wigfrid tried to consul. Wilson would move away from Maxwell, pulling out of the grip of the two women, looking even more angry now. “He’s done this to all of us, and you’re all protecting him!? I’m not standing for this anymore! Let him deal with and die in his torture chamber on his own! I’m done with ALL of this,” He turned swiftly from the group, grabbing up one of the backpacks and throwing it over his shoulder, starting to storm out of camp. “Wilson! Where are you going, it’s almost night you dork!” Willow yelled after him. “I’ve got a torch. I’m setting my own camp. Good riddance,” Wilson growled. And with that he disappeared among the trees, leaving the shocked survivors in his wake. * * * Knock-knock-knock “Come in, Willow.” “...Wow...” She had been expecting a campfire and a few chests, but as Willow cautiously opened and entered the gate of Wilson’s new location, what she found was a wood walled, fully stocked camp with storage, cook pot, drying racks, a tent, workbench, even an alchemy engine. “It’s…nice…” She finally decided. “Big, for..you know, one overnight…” “I build fast when I’m motivated, and can’t sleep…” Wilson answered, sitting on a log near his fire pit, his tone and expression somewhere between irritated and… sad. “About last night… we’re all sorry,” Willow started to say. Wilson looked surprised, if not alarmed. “Oh no, it’s not your fault! Not anyone’s fault. Except mine,” Wilson answered, looking dejected again. “It’s my fault Maxwell’s here to make us miserable. I got him off the throne. I didn’t kill him when I had the chance to when we met in the wilderness once I was off the throne. I helped and fed him when I realized he wasn’t capable of surviving in his own world he’d created. And I was the one that protected him and said we shouldn’t stoop to his level, when we all started to gather together and the rest of you wanted to lynch him for everything he did to us.” “Well, you were right,” Willow said sitting down beside him. “We’re not murderous madmen like he was. And he would’ve just come back anyways if we’d killed him with how this stupid place works. We would’ve been wasting our time. We’ve all had our snapping point with him, it was finally your turn. If you want to stay away from us for awhile, we understand.” “I don’t want to leave you guys, I just don’t want to be around Maxwell for a while,” Wilson decided. “I’m not moving out or anything, I’ll still be around camp. I sorta just want someplace I can go to when he gets to be too much. I think I’ll use this place as a laboratory. Some place I can mess around with things, without worrying about being too close to the rest of you, if something goes wrong…” “Well I guess it’s good to have a backup camp. In case I burn it down, you know, or Woody goes sleep-walking as the beaver again and chews up anything made of wood at the camp,” Willow said, looking towards the still-open gate. “We, uh.. just kinda figured you’d wind up going father away than a 10 minute walk around the trees…” “Well there wasn’t a lot of time before night, and like I said I didn’t want to get too far from you guys, just Maxwell. He does so little he’d probably be out of breath before he got halfway here,” Wilson mused. “Yeah. Maybe if you keep away from him for a bit those dreams will settle down.” “Ms. Wickerbottom mentioned that, eh?” Wilson asked. “Yeah I asked her before if she knew what might be causing it, since she knows so much about all sorts of random things. Wasn’t really much that helped, just a lot of possibilities. I guess I’m getting homesick, thinking about what’s happened to my place since I haven’t been around. I suppose I should just be happy I’m not having actual nightmares. And that I lived so far out of the way that no-one should stumble onto that portal before it decays.” I guess that’s one good thing about being on bad terms with the rest of my family, no-one cares to check when you’ve been gone for too long. “Alright. Well, I’d better get back to the main camp, let everyone know what’s going on,” Willow would say, starting to get up. “Do you.. want to come along, maybe?” “Sorry, no. I think it’s too soon for me to see Maxwell again. Please give everyone my sincerest apologies,” Wilson would answer. “Is there anything we can do?” Willow asked. “Yes, actually. Can you try to find out what Maxwell’s been putting in his cigars?” “What, do you want some of that nasty stuff?” Willow was giving Wilson a weird look. “No, I want to get rid of whatever his source is. I swear he’s only making those things just to torture the rest of us,” Wilson said with an annoyed look at the thought of it. “I hear that. Even I won’t light those things for him,” She said making a face. “I’ll have everyone keep an eye out.” “Thanks Willow.” The next few days went on without much trouble out of the ordinary. Wilson received frequent visits from the other survivors (minus Maxwell who was wisely staying away, and WX-78 who just didn’t care), and he made visits to the main camp as well to upgrade and maintain the equipment. It was by the fourth day that Wilson realized that he hadn’t seen Maxwell at all the entire time. “Yeah, that purple-suited devil hasn’t been around much. Pops in now and then, and sleeps overnight at the camp, but otherwise he’s been scarce,” Woodie would say after Wilson had inquired. “Me and Lucy tried to follow him a couple of times, but he’s a wily one, keeps giving us the slip.” “He’s so scrawny it’s hard to tell him apart from a tree trunk!” The talking axe piped up. “Thanks, I guess. You haven’t noticed him doing anything strange when he has been around, have you?” Wilson asked. “Not really. The robot’s been acting suspicious, though. The walking can’s been swiping supplies here and there, getting defensive if he gets caught and trying to divert our attention. We’re used to him trying to make off with the gears to eat, but it’s been regular stuff. Rocks and twigs, grass ropes, that sorta stuff. Ms. Wickerbottom thinks he’s taken enough stuff to make his own camp by now.” “Maybe. He’s never really cared about any of us, other than that the more of us there are around, the less likely he’s going to be targeted,” Wilson answered, rubbing his chin in thought, puzzling over the behavior as well. “You haven’t seen him and Maxwell together, have you?” “Not that I can recall. How about you, Lucy?” “Nope, they’ve been staying away from each other when they’re at the camp.” “That’s strange. They seemed to be getting pretty friendly with each other on the last world,” Wilson said, now suspicious as well. “You think the ‘bot and the ‘suit are in cahoots with each other?” Woodie asked. “Maybe. WX steals the supplies while Maxwell sets up camp,” Wilson surmised. “Or he’s just running distraction while Maxwell is up to other mischief. We’d better keep an eye on the both of them…” Wilson then frowned. “IF I can keep an eye on them. I haven’t seen either of them since I set up my lab.” “No worries, Wils, Lucy and I’ll keep an eye out for them. We’ll deal them some swift woodlands justice if they’re up to trouble,” Woodie said proudly, holding up Lucy. “Just try to keep ‘em in one piece. I’ll have some questions for them once they get caught at something,” Wilson answered, picking up his backpack to head out. “Where you off to now?” Woodie asked. “Back to the lab, I got a lot of work to do. Winter will be here soon and I want to get equipment ready for spring before we get stuck huddling by the campfires all winter. I’d rather not be trying to set up the lightning rods again while the thunderstorms are are already on top of us,” Wilson answered. “Haha, that was a fun night. Good thing WX took the hits instead. I can still smell smoke on him sometimes,” Woodie laughed. “Just make sure you’re getting some sleep, Wils. The dark circles around your eyes are looking worse than normal.” “Maybe once I get the equipment done. I haven’t exactly been eager at the prospect of dreaming again. The only dreams I’ve had lately are making me homesick.” “Home’s wherever you make it, so long as you got the people around you that you care about. Ain’t that right, Lucy?” “Oh you’re so sweet, Woodie!” Wilson frowned, starting to head out. He knew what Woodie had meant, about the other people they’d become friends with that were here with them in the Constant, but now he was feeling homesick again. He might not have gotten along with his family…but it would’ve been nice to see them again. Maybe I should’ve thought about that before I moved out into the middle of no-where with no way to reach human society…even if they were jerks… His mood now sour instead of homesick, Wilson marched himself back to his lab, throwing himself into his work. What did it matter now what his family was up to? He was here now, all he could do was try to make the best of it. * * * The fog… the walk through the forest.. the approach of the house… the eerie stillness all around… All was the same as before, creeping once again closer to the machine in the dark. And then… pausing… Slowly the gaze traveled around the room, trying to see details in the dark, searching for something unseen… The fox took a step at a time closer, moving with great caution, gazing at the machine… The movement was sudden, the unnatural glow of the machine as it sprang to life, like the switch thrown by unseen hands. In an instant those hands shot forward, shadows incarnate, grabbing the fox and yanking it into the darkness, swallowed by the shadows before it could finish uttering a yelp. The wandering gaze of the unseen had snapped back to the portal at the light and the movement, but it had all happened too quick for it to have taken any action. Around the portal the shadows had begun to swell up, starting to move towards the gazer, but a different source of light would cause them to shudder, shrinking back and disappearing entirely, leaving the portal and the rubble in the room now fully visible. Everything inside the house had been left utterly destroyed, except the portal… The gaze turned once more on the portal, everything else seeming to lose focus as it stared at the malicious machine. And then with great speed it moved forward, rushing to the portal… * * * Wilson woke with a start, looking around in panic, gasping. Slowly he started to calm down, putting a hand to his head to clear the cold sweat on his brow. He was at his workbench, having fallen asleep in the middle of his project. It was full night now, but his fire was still lit, so he couldn’t have been asleep very long. Tonight was the full moon, so it wouldn’t have mattered, but the still burning fire gave him some comfort. Wilson pushed his seat away from the work bench, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes, and the dream from his mind. The eerie feeling continued to hang around him though, causing him great discomfort. Why would the shadows care about snatching a woodlands animal? Why was he having these dreams now-turned nightmare in the first place? Why did he even care about a stupid delusion about some place he could never get back to? Wilson got up from his seat, heading quickly for his gate without bothering to grab any supplies, just wanting to be out of his camp. After a few moments walk in the cold night air the creepy feeling would leave him, but he did not feel any better. I want to go home… not back to that house.. back to those woods. I want to go… home… Wilson turned his head towards the sky, staring at the heartless ‘moon’ for several moments in anguish before he let his head drop back down, starting to rub his eyes before the tears could finish forming. A gentleman did not cry, despite whatever the circumstances. He needed to be strong for the people around him. But he was so tired… It was like when Charlie took the powers of the throne from him, she also took a piece of himself as well. Perhaps that was the price of his freedom from the throne, that he could never be the same again. The cold, quiet air seemed to be helping, Wilson slowly calming down. Maybe the breakdown was inevitable, but he was glad he didn’t have it in front of the others. But where do I go from here… Wilson hugged himself with his arms, shivering as he finally started to feel the bite of the cold night. Winter was almost on top of them now, much quicker than normal. He didn’t have the luxury of sulking anymore, he needed to get back to work. It was as he was turning to head back to his lab that a movement caught his eye, something moving in the darkness at the edge of the trees. The eerie feeling started to creep back up Wilson’s spine as the man turning to look for the movement. He couldn’t see anything moving now that he was looking for it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there… Then a different movement caught his eye, something more distant. A human form? Squinting into the dark, Wilson soon realized what he saw skulking about in the nighttime air was none other than Maxwell, whose gaze was focused intently on the ground. He seemed most focused on the flowers, pausing when he would encounter one, inspecting it thoroughly before moving onto the next. He must have been looking for evil flowers, which bloomed most often under the pale light of the full moon. “Looking for Nightmare Fuel components?” Maxwell jumped at the sudden noise, straightening up quickly from the flower he had been stooping to inspect, then looking annoyed once he realized who had come up on him. “Higgsbury. Shouldn’t you be busy getting your hands caught in some gears or burning your workbench?” “I thought I might enjoy the night air before making my workbench into charcoal,” Wilson replied acidly. “Why are you skulking around so late?” “What does it look like to you? I’m gathering resources,” Maxwell replied in his royal tone. “For your own twisted motives or for everyone?” “Dear little Higgsbury, when will you learn, whatever most benefits me also benefits everyone else.” “We need to to talk about how exactly your cigars are not benefiting everyone else,” Wilson answered in a deadpan tone. “Now now, Higgsbury, we went over this before…” Maxwell started to lecture, but Wilson was no-longer listening to him. His eye had caught a movement again, but this time he saw it more clearly - one of the shadow creatures. A chill went down his spine again - he had no headache, none of the physical symptoms he had whenever his sanity was in danger - but he could still see the shadow creature, as well as others, starting to creep through the trees, moving as though they had purpose. “Are you listening to me, Higgsbury?!” Maxwell barked, annoyed at the scientist seeming to tune him out. He followed Wilson’s gaze to the trees, and then he too seemed surprised at the sight of the moving shadows. “Isn’t the camp… Higgsbury!” Wilson had abandoned Maxwell, taking off after the shadows at a run, having too realized what way the shadows were traveling. He only caught occasional glimpses of the darkness incarnate, but after chasing them for a short while he realized their destination was somewhere else, missing the main camp by a fair distance. They were headed for the portal… Wilson slowed down, moving into the treeline, trying to give himself some cover. He almost jumped as Maxwell arrived behind him, out of breath, also doing the same. “You annoying… little midget… you just left me….” “Quiet!” Wilson hissed, looking back to the Florid Postern, watching as the shadows settled in around the plants and trees, hiding themselves a short distance from the portal, then making no other movements. They were just… waiting for something… The normally invisible passage of the portal would become visible, glowing faintly with its swirling energy as a shapeless blob of shadows seemed to melt out of it. Wilson looked briefly at Maxwell, seeing an equally puzzled expression on the magician as he gazed at the lump of shadows. He’d never seen the shadows actually use the portal, they seemed able to move themselves between worlds without direct aid, so long as some kind of bridge had been made between them, like the Florid Postern, or the Teleportato. Wilson’s attention was drawn back to the portal, the blob of shadows moving away from the portal, and the hidden shadows rearing up from their hiding places, starting to gather around the portal like shapeless snakes poised to strike… The glow on the portal became brighter, behaving now as it would for a normal arrival, emitting a brief surge of light as the new form emerged. In that instant the shadows struck, all surging forward, striking like a hammer from all angles before the form had finished appearing, surrounding and swarming it. Alarmed, Wilson started to run towards the portal, but he got no more than two steps before he was yanked to a stop, grabbed by his arm by Maxwell. “Don’t be stupid, Higgsbury!” “We have to help!” Wilson yelled. “What do you expect to do!? We don’t even know what that is!” Maxwell snapped back, digging his fingernails into Wilson’s arm to prevent his escape. Wilson tried to fight the grip, but a strange noise turned his head back to the portal. The shadows were changing shape, looking more like a bubble, straining to stay small but being stretched to its limit. An instant later and the breaking point was reached, a bright flash of light blinding both humans and causing both of them to shield their eyes, Maxwell releasing Wilson on reflex. The scientist tried to rub the glare out of his eyes, looking back to the portal again to see fragments of shadows trying to gather themselves back, scattered in a wide radius around a glowing form. A white body that shined not with the light of the moon, but from its own glowing light; four legs with cloven hooves, stamping angrily at the ground; a long, lion-like tail that lashed back and forth; all connected to a horse-like body that ended in a glowing spiral horn, brandished threateningly towards the first blob of shadow that had emerged, now also laying partway exposed to reveal a trapped red fox, crying out for aid. Wilson stood in utter shock, the continuation of his last lucid dream now playing out right before his concision eyes in alarming clarity. Wilson almost took a step forward, but he was suddenly yanked back again, Maxwell having grabbed the collar of the scientist’s shirt, pulling him into the trees. “STOP IT Maxwell!! Let me-!” “Shut up, Higgsbury!” Maxwell hissed, clamping a hand over the scientist’s mouth. Wilson tried to pry the hand off of his mouth, but Maxwell’s demeanor made him stop short, greatly concerned. He’d never seen the magician look so alarmed. Bright flashes of light, followed by surges of consuming shadows, danced among the trees that Maxwell had made them hide in, Wilson’s eyes only able to catch brief glimpses as shadow and light warred at the Florid Postern. Then a single brilliant flash, followed by an overwhelming silence… Shadows seemed to settle back into the area. Normal shadows, not the living manifestations of nightmare fuel. This time Wilson was able to gently pry Maxwell’s grip off of him, the magician not trying to grab him again. Wilson crept carefully through the trees, pushing aside the branches to gaze out at the portal. Light glowed in front of the portal, the unicorn nuzzling the red fox, which seemed no worse for wear, leaning back against the unicorn’s muzzle. Its little friend now safe, the unicorn straightened up, for the first time taking stock of where it was. The shadows that had tried to swarm it were gone, all crawled back into invisibility in the darkness. It looked back at the portal, now dark and closed, then gazed up at the sky, and the shining full ‘moon’ above. Finally it turned is gaze towards the ground and the surrounding area, and then, towards Wilson… The scientist found himself frozen, unable to move, not daring to. Its eyes were locked upon him for he didn’t know how long, staring at him, staring into him… Finally the unicorn turned, looking back towards the fox briefly before it turned its whole body towards another stand of trees, taking off at a brief pace, followed quickly by the little fox. By the time Wilson finally moved, it was already gone, lost in the fog among the trees.
  12. Just wanted to share some art I had done <:3c This is my greatest artistic sin and I regret it even now All in all it's just a bad time for Wilson
  13. Hello, I would like to suggest some ideas for the refresh of the wilson character. Well, first of all, I would like to highlight a little context. Wilson is the character that beginners choose in the single-player game, as he is the only one available, and in many cases in together also by even more advanced players. In my view (and many) it is correct that he is the only character to "have no disadvantages". In his refresh he would like the following changes: - That he continue to "have no disadvantages". That is, his beard grows over time and insulates him a little from the cold or heats him up faster , besides gaining sanity and when cut. - That he would gain a tab of his own constructions. It would be a bit more advanced items and he would do something that has to do with science / survival. That sums up the character's trajectory. I know that because of COVID-19 the development of the game was hindered, but I would like to register the idea for when the occasion comes.
  14. a quick something, happy valentines dayy <3
  15. Despite the name, I don't actually draw Dexter's Lab fanart. I just go by that handle because my name is Dexter and I like science, just felt like putting that out there. So despite lacking most abilities to properly communicate, using art is one method I use to open up to a community. So here goes... something. I hope you enjoy my ability to copy the DS style almost verbatim... I can do other styles too, though, so don't worry. This little fella is a mod that I'm hoping to actually get on someday. I'm fully aware that before he goes into DST, I need to modify this image. Probably shouldn't have merged the layers. Oh well, live and learn. I doodled that shortly after finding "volleyball" in Shipwrecked's anim files. The ball's name is Rawlings. It's sentient according to the tags? Pretty ironic to have Wilson screaming about it but, yanno. Gotta draw the fave any time you can, right? "Hello barber, just f**k me up, please." "Say no more, pal." Yeah, I'm nine times out of 10 never serious about drawing. I just kind of make comics I find funny and wait for others to laugh too. Honestly though, how does one even come up with that hairdo? How do you explain it to a barber? And that's a doodle for a friend who ships Willowson. and it's totally not like i dont either noooo haha those two together is just silly don't touch me She would make an interesting mod imo. I also do photo manipulations but none of those are Don't Starve related... maybe I'll show those someday.
  16. Hello! I make my return back once to the art forums for help!;-; So I'm working on a concept idea for the shopkeeper (spoilers) and I'm sort of drawing a picture to sort of get a demonstration of it. (And for fun!) So here's the first concept: Concept number one (the bad one): So not too spoil too much into my concept idea, but its suppose to show a sign of mourning, Wilson and the shopkeeper in a location mourning (in a way). I decided to make the artsyle similar to the one from turn of tides. Especially Wilson's face from this scene: Though, halfway through drawing I realised I accidentally put Wilson too high and you can see the ground which was not looking good for the picture and decided to redraw it... :/ Concept number two, (The cooler concept): I put a bit more detail and more better... things in general doing this The angle is now more upwards then ground level, there's more rain, Wilson looks more confused (I'd be confused aswell if I was standing next to a over sized man mourning) I even got the trees to look farther away,credit goes to this scene in a new reign trailer: The shopkeeper might be a little bit too tall though. :/ but the advice I'm asking for is if anyone knows how to make the scenery more... better I guess. Where it looks like an actual Don't starve animation. Any ideas?
  17. This is my first attempt at drawing Wilson. I've also decided to experiment with hand and clothing folds. I'm actually really proud of this! If you guys have any constructive criticism, I'd love to hear it!
  18. "The game is over and iv'e won" "now its time to start the fun.~"
  19. Their mate ventured out to sea a while ago and hasn't returned. They're just sitting on the dock now, pining for their dear one. There have been longer expeditions before, longer times apart... just not any that they can recall.
  20. If you play Don't Starve via Steam and can see how many hours you've played... I've been playing a few weeks and am already up to 67 hours! So addicted >.< Anyone want to make me feel better and tell me if you've played more? Please tell me I'm not the only addict!
  21. Greetings. I've only started playing Don't Starve (+DST) recently, but I find myself enamored with the storyline and fanworks that I've seen. I'd like to share what I draw, though I am quite new to forums and horrendous with housekeeping on social media. Nevertheless, you might find me wandering on DeviantArt (https://www.deviantart.com/frygia/gallery/), Instagram (https://instagram.com/frygia26/), and Tumblr (https://frygia.tumblr.com/). For now, I'll just drop this here... I drew Triumphant Victorian Wilson for use as a profile pic.
  22. Hello there! As many of you I'm currently obsessed with "Don't Starve" and I have a few sketches of my own I would like to share. Most of the things I have drawn are (mildly) nsfw and might be posted on tumblr later on. So far here's the first thing I sketched once I stopped tracing the characters and getting used to their traits. This is the most "my style" I have adapted them. After this I actually went back and applied the original style a bit more. More drawings soon! PD: I can't draw kids, uuugh.
  23. Hi! :3 I am new to the forums,so if I do anything wrong please tell me. Anyways,I made this topic to post my not so great fan art ;u; Here's the first one: Very bad quality,I know,I know... I wanted to take a better picture,but I couldn't find the paper ;-;