@theminecraftbee ‘s ficlets about Decked Out eating Tango have been living in my head rent free so here’s a little post-do thing of my own.
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“The server resets tonight.”
It’s been just over two months since Decked Out finished. Just over two months since anyone has seen or heard from Tango.
Zed knows what happened. Not the details. And he certainly couldn’t explain it to anyone else. But he knows.
And the gnawing feeling of guilt has kept him coming back to the dungeon. Every day.
Decked Out is asleep. Zed can walk through the citadel without a desperate need to throw himself to the ravengers. He can even wander below, into the redstone, without being electrocuted to death. Maybe it’s dead, but Zed doubts it. He knows it’s just sleeping. Eventually, it will wake up. It will be hungry and will lure whoever enters this world into its depths.
Maybe that’s when Tango will wake up too.
Zed won’t be here to see it.
“Who knows when you’ll be able to eat again?”
His voice is quiet but he knows the whole dungeon can hear him. He plays with the clasp on his gas mask. Tango’s storage room, where he lays on the dusty floor, has enough oxygen flowing through it still to allow him to breathe without the mask, though he’s already getting a bit of a headache. He’ll put the mask back on soon. Eventually.
“One last snack?”
He’s offered the dungeon himself hundreds of times these past few months. As a player, when it was live, hoping to spark a bit of his friend’s life back into him. Then after. Hoping for something. For a glimpse of flickering blue flame and wide eyes that had long since given up pretending to see.
There’s quiet.
There’s so much guilt in the quiet.
Don’t worry, Zed. Just a few months. Not too big of a project.
All good here. With level one done, the rest will go a lot quicker.
Yeah, level three got away from me a bit. Level four will be smaller, don’t worry.
Audio needed to be reworked, you know how it is. Soon.
Just tired, lost track of time last night.
Not too much longer now.
Don’t worry, I’ll be back to normal when the game’s done. Promise.
Did Tango know he was lying?
Zed is well aware that what he’s doing isn’t good for him. It’s ironic, how Tango pulled away from everyone, to eventually disappear in this cave. And now Zed’s doing the same thing.
It was always Tango pulling Zed out. Into the sun for a stupid game or a ridiculous project. So it makes sense that without him, Zed can’t bring himself to leave the hole.
“I could break more redstone.” Zed offers the dungeon. “Really get you mad.”
He’d done that. About two weeks after Decked Out went dormant. He hadn’t gotten a reaction at the time. But the next day, everything was repaired.
That had spurred Zed into doing a stakeout. Break some stuff, sit and wait until the dungeon brought Tango out to fix it.
Zed had died down in the redstone, waiting. It hadn’t been a pleasant death.
That’s when Impulse had stepped in, staging his own intervention. But all it had done is make Zed feel more guilty.
An intervention for the guy who failed to do an intervention when Tango needed it most.
See? Ironic.
His head is starting to pound. He puts his mask back on.
“I want my friend back, you stupid castle,” He says through the mask. The dungeon understands him anyways.
He won’t be getting Tango back. He’s known that for much longer than he can admit.
Time passes. His phone dings a few times. It’s just the others. Making preparations. The server resets in just a few hours.
“Was it worth it?” Zed asks. “Not you, dumb dungeon. I’m asking Tango. Was it worth it? Did you make this choice? Did you know the consequences?”
Silence.
“Did you ever consider saying goodbye?”
The thing is? Tango was saying goodbye. In the only way he could. It was in the heartfelt artifacts crafted for each hermit. It was in his own voice, echoing words throughout the dungeon long after his own voice left him. It was in every ounce of the game.
None of them saw it until it was too late.
Zed stands. He has to be at spawn soon. He has stuff to pack. He has his own hole in the ground to say goodbye to.
He takes the long way out. Up into the main room of the citadel.
There’s a small part of him that hopes to see a glint of Tango. That’s what’s supposed to happen, right? A little wisp of blue fire. A soft voice. A gust of wind blowing a loose piece of paper across the floor. Something he can look at and be comforted by.
Nothing happens.
Zed knows that Tango’s gone.
He stands at the door. It’s open just a crack, just like he left it.
The night is clear.
“Goodbye, Tango.”
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Don't Starve is the only game I know that somehow senses my HUBRIS.
I was 2 MINUTES AWAY FROM THE FINAL PORTAL IN THE FINAL LEVEL OF ADVENTURE MODE WITHOUT CHEATING OR ANYTHING. I had spent DAYS working to win the game, 2 MINUTES away from the end! I had Chester! I had a billion pierogies! I had two activated touchstones! I had it all, baby!!!!
I even bragged to my wife that the game was almost easy now!
Big mistake. The Hubris Sensing Technology (TM) of the World's Most Unforgiving Game sensed my complacency and the next thing I knew I was barraged by more Clockwork Bishops than I have ever seen in a single place in my hundreds and hundreds of hours playing this evil evil game!!!
I got through more killer bees than I'd ever seen, and a huge dense forest of 1,000 spiders! All that I could handle!!
But I have NO IDEA what I was supposed to do about a bottleneck that involved 60 ranged attacks hitting me within 5 seconds and stun-locking me to death. I have never been so Humbled by a game, and I've been playing this game for so long!
I have made this art piece to commemorate the occasion.
DISCLAIMER/CREDIT:
To make this, I cut out sprites from the game and from other official art by Klei Games, and then I added all the lighting effects and arranged it all together.
The only other thing I actually drew for this is Wigfrid's hand holding the torch.
Normally, I illustrate every element of a piece I do; but for this, I just wanted to quickly communicate the High-Pitched Silly Screaming Horror of running into this monstrosity in the "all-darkness" level of Adventure Mode!!
EDIT: Someone confirmed for me after making this post that the *Impossible Bishop Gauntlet of Doom* was, in fact, a glitch. -- OR IS THAT JUST WHAT THE BISHOPS WANT ME TO THINK????
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I’ve seen a few people here talking about what shit friends Ray has. That they are terrible for ditching him when he is obviously self destructing. They should be there for him, taking care of him whenever he is drunk (so, always). I totally understand the sentiment but here’s the thing…
You can only try to save someone on a self destructive path for so long. This is a group who has been friends for a while. They have probably spent years trying to help Ray. How many times have they carried him home? How many times have they cleaned up the puke? Taken his car keys so he doesn’t drive? Calmed down others when he started a fight?
Sometimes, even when you love someone a lot, you have to recognize their part in their behavior. You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. Even with alcoholism and addiction, they have to choose to get sober.
So I don’t think they are necessarily shit for letting Ray face the weight of his decisions on his own. They may be shit for a million other reasons, but not this one.
And, to those of you out there who have friends like Ray, you don’t have to fall into a terrible place to save them. It’s ok to love your friend and accept that they are self destructing. It’s totally ok to be there for them, support them, but please realize that in the end it is their choice. Please take care of yourself.
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true strength — batman secret files (2018) #1
(ID below cut!)
[ID: A short story with a guiding narration:
His knuckles ache with each blow, bone grinding into bone. The criminals shout what they always shout. And Superman comes from above. — We're shown Batman fighting against several men that are trying to overpower him. He blocks an attack as he strikes another man. Above him, in the far distance, Superman is soaring through the air to get to him and help.
Superman gives a speech. They've been friends for so long. Colleagues. Soldiers in the fight. Superman knows his soul, he says. He knows he's a good man, he says. — Now, in the safety of the Batcave, Batman sits in front of his computer desk. He's facing Superman, who's standing in front of him with his hand outstretched. He opens his fist to reveal what he's brought.
Inside the Phantom Zone there is an impossible universe. Inside the impossible universe is an impossible planet. On the impossible planet is a small, impossible rock. Platinum Kryptonite. — Bruce pushes his cowl off as Superman presents the radiant silver rock to him.
It gives you powers. Powers like Superman's. Superman tells him to touch it. “Just touch it, Bruce, just once, and it lasts a lifetime. Then you can fight as I fight, as you should fight. With true strength.” A smile. A whoosh. Superman leaves. — Superman leaves the Kryptonite on the desk before he departs. Bruce doesn't move any closer. He stares at it somberly, deep in thought.
He looks at the gift. His mind wanders. — A red-tinted multipanel sequence shows Bruce imagining a scenario if he did gain Superman's powers. A woman is being held hostage by the Joker. She has a gun pressed to her temple as she stares at Batman with fear. Silently begging him to help and to save her like how he's saved countless others. The Joker pulls the trigger. But before she can be another person he couldn't possibly save, Batman's eyes glow with red electricity. He vaporizes the bullet with heat vision before it can even finish leaving the barrel.
He keeps his hands at his side. His knuckles ache. At least two of them are broken. Footsteps echoing down the stairs. The smell of stirred milk and white sugar. A polite clearing of the throat. Alfred says nothing. Their routines are well established, words are unnecessary. — Bruce continues to stare intensely at the well-intended present as Alfred approaches him with a tray. Bruce finally tears his gaze away from the Kryptonite to look at his lifelong friend before looking down at the steaming teacup that Alfred hands him.
His hand shakes. His loose knuckles stab into his skin. He can’t hold on. He always has before. But now he can’t. — His hand continues to tremble and before he can take a single sip of the hot drink, the cup is shattering against the ground.
The pain is not great. Not as great as it has been. Not as great as a bullet burrowing, or a back breaking, or a knife sinking into his throat. This is nothing. But still. His knuckles ache. — Bruce grabs his own gloved hand, cradling the back of his broken knuckles. He looks up and quietly asks, “Alfred. Am I enough?”
END ID]
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brb, i have to go and. make strangled noises at nothing real quick; it just hit me over the head how Wyll's use of the metaphor of dancing as a stand-in for romance and intimacy really just. accompanies him all throughout his story, and how perfect it is
I guess I should have expected a character like him, that's both deeply poetic in his speech and courtly in his upbringing, would come to idealize a chivalric romance a bit, and translate his feelings on/of love to an element of courting that's as ritualistic and processional as ballroom dancing, but sometimes just realizing the obvious can really knock you off your feet for a second
like. just like how there is almost a blueprint to a perfect storybook romance in both stories and -consequently- in his head (I think romance might even be one of the literary genres with the highest number of unwritten rules that need to be fulfilled for a work to count as a romance), there is also a fairly strict method to a court dance. There is a series of well-known and practiced steps that was laid out in advance, and one is to perform them in succession, and in sync with one's partner. If one of the parties doesn't know or doesn't want to follow the rules/steps, it gets... tangled, messy, and you both stumble. The dance and the relationship both fall apart. The happy ending of a tale is not reached without all the steps in-between being followed, and he so dearly wants his fairytale ending, his happy, fulfilled love, I just---
it's such a perfect metaphor, and what makes it even more perfect is that Wyll is ostensibly aware of it, and he chose it, purposefully, and i don't want to watch the Act 3 commitment scene because I've not yet done it myself and don't want to spoil it, but I would be so surprised if he a.) made no mention of storybook romances, or b.) didn't just straight up propose y'know
i'm (metaphorically) crying, if it were possible to play this game on six different characters simultaneously without getting bored or confused I fucking would
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