Dododex
ARK: Survival Evolved & Ascended Companion
Black Coloring
Recipe
Black Coloring
- ×6 NarcoberryASA only
- ×6 StimberryASA only
- ×15 Narcoberry
- ×2 Charcoal
- Water
- Cook Time
- 10s
To make Black Coloring, combine Narcoberry, Stimberry, Narcoberry, Charcoal, and Water in a Cooking Pot. Start the fire and cook for 10 seconds.
umm.. avoiding all the death threats and such.. i have a tip for dye, you can use it on saddles and armor and gear which can make some cool colors.
ples don’t give this a bad rating i just want to be helpful
- DogMan62
Paint your quetzal you will be invisible in the sky at night
Black Dye is the darkest Dye in all of ARK. It can color in things using a Paintbrush to spread its color. The Paintbrush can be used on all colors. If you do not have a Paintbrush, use the paint by dragging it onto things in your Inventory that glow green when you hold the Dye. If anyone wishes to craft Dye, use the Cooking Pot. I have chosen to write all of the information on all of the Dyes, Paintbrushes, and Cooking Pots in Black Dye because this Dye is closest to the left corner of the 'Dex Screen. If you wish to find out more, read my Tip in White Dye. It is marked "I am the SURVIVOR ", just like this Tip.
—I am the SURVIVOR
If your on a pvp server use this on flack armor for night camp
Alf_evens
Painting your clothes black is good for the middle of the night in pvp too have some stealth
Hi guys it me again Ghost! I’ve noticed that not a lot of the fan fictioners are posting anymore. Just the new people. I know y’all are busy with life and stuff but pls come back sometime. We miss u guys. 🥹🥹🥹. #FF4L. ✌️.
-Ghost.
You can use it at night to camouflage yourself in the dark And someone’s dead body😈😈😈
Black Ghost
Two
As Quiet returned to the clearing that the coyotes called their camp, she nearly collided with her mother, who hopped back in surprise. “Quiet!” she exclaimed, causing her to stop in her tracks and turn her head towards Gentle. There was no way for her to tell her mother of what she had seen; they had developed some words without a voice, such as help, leave me alone, I’m hurt, I’m sick, stop, hello, come here, no, yes, wait, and goodbye. None of those would help her in this situation, so instead of struggling to mouth the words as she did upon occasion, she swished her tail to the left, their sign for hello. Gentle sighed, flicking her ears back. “Are you hurt?” she asked finally, scanning her daughter’s feeble frame for a moment. No, Quiet responded, shaking her head to communicate yet again.
Giving up on dialoguing with her daughter, Gentle turned with a quick “Goodbye” and then padded off. Quiet watched her go, not caring to sign goodbye. Her mother was no longer looking, anyways, and it would be wasted energy. Quiet loved her mother, but despite Gentle’s best efforts at helping her be able to speak, she knew that her mother had always had a longing for a normal daughter. One who could speak, and laugh, and bark, and howl. One who could be useful.
Sorry, Mother, Quiet thought sadly. That isn’t me.
That following morning, one of the older coyotes was ravaged by a high fever, appearing out of nowhere. By that evening when the sun set, he was dead. The pack gathered around to mourn, heads low to breathe in his musty smell one last time before howling in mourning. Quiet stayed at the rear of the group, taking no part in howling for she knew that she couldn’t. She sniffed from her place a few feet away, nose twitching warily as she scooped up thin traces of his smell. It was sour thanks to his fever, and Quiet worried that it was still clinging to him enough so that it could travel to a different coyote, too.
But if she was being completely honest? She was afraid of the sudden death. The wolf that she had seen out in the forest, with dead eyes and a blank stare, had haunted the back of her mind up until this point, and even still his image hung like a heavy fog in her thoughts. The nag of being watched itched at her like a stubborn flea, and she found herself looking over shoulder more often than not. And yet she could tell no one of her experience, nor would they sit and try to decipher her desperate signing. She was alone with her fear, and that made her angry.
The next few days were consistently filled with anxiety and unease. Three days’ time after the elder has passed away, Quiet was back out in the forest, wishing that she could scream out her frustrations instead of holding them within herself like she was forced to. As she got farther and farther from the camp, the idea of eyes burning into her back caressed her thoughts until it was too much to bear. Finally she turned around, and her heart nearly stopped.
The black wolf was there.
Black Ghost- I’m too lazy to say ‘a President Loki short story’ every time
One (2/2)
Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and stopped in her tracks. Pivoting, she looked slowly around at the brightly colored forest surrounding her, scanning it for anything that could be tracking her movement with steel eyes. She circled twice, unable to find any sort of sign that she was being followed, but as she turned back the way that she had come for a third time, she was met with the face of a very fluffy black wolf. His eyes were white, a foggy sort of pale gray with no life in them at all. He was inches away, dry nose puffing hot air into her face, and although he was far taller than she, his eyes were directly level with her’s. Had Quiet been able to make a sound, she would’ve screamed; but her silence kept her from reacting in fear. Being mute kept her oddly calm in situations such as this, and even as fear spiked through her body, she stayed rooted.
When she blinked he was gone, as was any sort of trace that he had existed at all. Slowly turning her head once more she searched for him, but seeing nothing, she set off back towards her home in unnerved angst.
I just wanna know how to dye stuff
this goes well with forest green on flak if done right
- the fish in your toilet
Quiet appreciates the flowers. I assumed so, anyway, because she can’t exactly tell me.
Honestly, at this point everybody has a bone to pick with the Black Ghost… but feel free to try to kill him with your gator army if you feel so led. I won’t argue.
- President Loki
*Sniffle* N-No... I'm not.
*Throws flowers in Quiet's grave.* Rest in peace, mute queen.
~CL1's got a bone to pick with the Black Ghost...
Black Ghost- a President Loki short story =)
One (1/2)
Although Quiet had never been able to retell them herself, she had always loved hearing ghost stories. Well, not quite ghost stories… coyote packs didn’t tell ghost stories, for they found the affairs of the non-real supernatural world pointless to even acknowledge, so they never retold them. That was for the wolves to recite to their pups. Coyotes only told stories that were real: stories that had real proof of their existence. Memorable tales to warn coyotes of the cruelness of the world, such as the Blood Sky, the Bone Beast, and Death Claws. Quiet was just under a year old and nearly fully grown, and she still enjoyed hustling her way into the warmth of the pup den and listening to her own mother, as well as others, tell the pups stories. No one minded when she did so; coyote packs were all about family, all about closeness. And with her unfortunate disability that made her unable to speak or make a sound, the pack was happy to include her in other activities.
“The Black Ghost,” Quiet’s mother, Gentle, was saying, “is a wolf who can’t speak. He haunts the packs of wolves who have angered him, sometimes killing their weakest members in revenge for his exaggerated life. You may sometimes hear him called the Plague. The wolves believe that he’s the source of sickness and unfortunate health, but we know differently. And some stories even say that he’s invisible.”
“Because he’s a ghost,” one of the pups, Obvious, said judgmentally. He lifted his nose blatantly into the air, sniffing incredulously. “Ghosts are invisible.”
Ghosts aren’t real, Quiet wanted to say, but was disagreed with by her nonexistent vocal cords. She shifted her paws, looking down at their dusty brown color. She was so… so plain. So basic, boring… so pointless. Sometimes she wondered why she was even on this earth. For punishment? What had she done? And who could be punishing her, if ancestors didn’t exist?
Gentle shook her head softly, smiling at the pup. “You’d think so. But ghosts don’t truly exist,” she corrected in a gentle voice. “He’s called invisible because he’s a black wolf: he can hide in the shadows. He isn’t a ghost at all, just an old, old wolf who happens to be a cannibal.”
“A carnival?” Elude imposed, tilting his wide head in confusion. Gentle chuckled, shaking her head. “Cannibal,” she informed him. “A wolf who eats his kind.”
A chorus of tiny pup voices, all shouting “Ew!” simultaneously, was what urged Quiet to make her way out of the den. Even when she was still young, the stories had become watered down. Turning, she made her way in the direction of the forest, her tail swishing behind her. She let out a silent sigh, a puff through her nostrils, as she slid through the browning ferns and vanished into the trees.
The overhead canopy had recently turned from a natural green to brilliant gold and mud brown and the blazing brightness of red and orange, a sight that had never before assaulted their forest. The leaves broke from overhead branches and spiraled down onto the walking paths, stiff and crunching upon impact. It was an amazing spectacle, one that Quiet couldn’t keep her eyes away from. The air had grown cooler, chilly winds sweeping cold nights into their camp and blowing the blazing-colored leaves off of the trees. Any chance that she could get, Quiet would be out in the forest, looking at the beautiful trees. It gave her a sense of peace, a sense of calmness in all of the chaos in her life. And, out in the quiet forest, she wasn’t the only thing that was silent. The trees were still and solemn, the wind whooshing by with barely a whisper, keeping her in a mute company.
Curiously, today felt different. The Black Ghost story still hanging on the back of her mind, she ventured her way through the trees with a slight hint of wariness. Ghost stories always fascinated Quiet, but they also gave her a sense of fear and precaution. It usually took her a day or so to get the details of the story out of her mind, freeing her of any additional anxiety.
The longer that she walked the more anxious she felt, and soon she was looking around, casting glances over her shoulder every few steps. The undeniable feeling of being watched had overtaken her, and it caused her fur to tingle all along her body. And yet, she couldn’t see, smell, nor hear any sort of hint as to there being another living soul out in the forest with her. Even the birds and squirrels seemed quiet for such a well-weathered day.
If you're wanting to paint a grayscale bird, such as the Argentavis, to make it look darker, it's not going to do anything except make it slightly grayed lol.
Can yall shut up pls. This is for tips on dyes not arguing or storytelling. Anyways an actual tip; make sure you have a full waterskin!! From my experience anything under i believe 20/100 (could be wrong tho) does not work!! Have a good day :)
-lynx.frozzti
Ok, I’m going to start rating stories depending on their likes. One like equals 10%. I’ve already done it for mine, so would it be ok if I do it for Dodo Tales?
-Apex
Black Ghost
Eight
He greeted her with a smile, one that made her spine tingle in utter fear. You shouldn’t have gone to sleep, he mouthed to her with a hard stare. That made Quiet’s hair along her back stand up straight, and with a harsh jab she began desperately prodding Gruff, praying that he would wake. It only took a few sharp prods to his side before he lifted his head, grunting as he blinked away sleep. “Quiet,” he mumbled, blinking a couple of times so that he could see. “What are you doing?”
Not daring to try and waste time by mouthing any words, she nodded her head furiously in the direction of the den entrance, where the black wolf still stood. Gruff looked in that direction, understanding her desperate gesture. The moment that he saw the wolf’s head, his expression changed. Relaxed ears pinned down to his head. Tired eyes widened and pupils dilated. His jowls tightened around his teeth, lips pulling back in absolute horror. “Quiet,” he sputtered finally. “Is- is that-?”
The black wolf grinned. He grinned, and grinned, and grinned, right before he lashed out harsh claws, skewered Captain by the back of the neck, dragging their alpha violently out of the den and disappearing into the night.
Gruff and Quiet looked at each other. Both of their eyes reflected the same thing: fear.
“Wake the others!” Gruff shouted, loud enough to make Soft lift her head. Quiet spun around and prodded Wonder in the side, waking the older coyote within a few prods.
Gruff didn’t wait for all of them to be woken and instead, blundered right out after Captain and the black wolf. Quiet waved her tail frantically before following him, and she let out a relieved breath when she heard Soft and Wonder following.
They came out into the clearing to find that the black ghost had Captain by the throat. He was shaking him around, flinging his body this way and that, with what looked like pure joy in his eyes. His jaw flexed with each movement and Quiet could hear splintering crunches every time that he was whipped around.
Gruff tried lunging at the large wolf, snapping his teeth, but he simply dodged away and lashed out with long claws at Gruff’s face. He was unfazed by the coyotes now being present to his murder. Suddenly he paused, bowing his head to look across the clearing at the four coyotes. A smile curved up in the corners of his lips, before he pressed his mighty jaws down.
Crunch. Snap.
Captain’s head and the top of his neck fell to the ground while the rest of his body remained in the black wolf’s jaws. Spitting out the corpse, he grinned at the four of them, blood dripping from his teeth. Swishing his tail, he stepped over Captain’s corpse, smiling at them with eyes that were purely hungry for death.
“That’s the Black Ghost,” Wonder whispered, her voice shaking.
Quiet processed her words while trembling. Four words, four syllables, and yet such a simple sentence made the mute coyote know that this was the day that she was going to die.
Its brighter than my future.
Hi it’s me President Loki. Sorry I haven’t been able to write much. I’ve been busy. Welcome new people!
-President Loki.