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Minecraft Roleplay [Lite] [No Applying]

DKnucklehead

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Don places the book back down on the ground.

"So...Don is my name..."

He wanders over to where a bed of pebbles lie near a small pond. He crouches down towards the rocks and rests the book on the top of his thigh. He removes a matchbook from neath his duster, and flicks it against the rocks, sparking it to life. He raises the book a few feet above the rocks and begins to raise the ruby flame to the pages.

You cannot keep running away from your past, my son.
He turns around. The world around him washes away, leaving a white void. A grey short-haired gentleman stands, almost triumphantly in this white void. He wears an all-black suit, but with a silver tie streaking down the empty darkness. His facial hair consists of a peppery grey goatee and a silvery knife of a soul patch. First impressions seem as if this man is older than he seems.

Hello, I am the Artist. It pleasures me to have you here, as so few ever come to visit.

Don looks around, quite confused. Was he actually dead, or was the life he was living not the truth? So many questions - so many which he had conceivable way of asking. He stands up slowly, and faces the "artist".

"Well, from the looks of things around here, I see why you get so little company."

The Artist gives a quick smirk.

"May I ask, what is this "art" that you are creating?"

Look around you, my son, all edges of this whiteness consists of my canvas. I may do with this realm as I so please, and of no consequence to myself. I may place any matter of beings, places, evils, et cetera, and then I take my fingers...

He gives a quick snap of his fingers. The sound spreads throughout his realm for what seems like an eternity.

...and then they come alive. Under the laws of nature which I have specifically created for them, and they all will occur, unknowing of my interactions with them.

"So, you are a god, no?"

Not the god which you would like me to be, but if you are seeking the one being responsible for creating your world, yes, I am that being.

"And what sort of being may that be?"

The Artist gives thought to this question, then replies sarcastically.

I told you already that I am not the god you wish me to be - I am not all-knowing.

"So you have NO idea as to what you are, or the origins of your existence?"

No, and neither do you for that matter. You have lived your life telling yourself your entire life that you are a "human-being", which in could in fact not be the case. You have created this idea, and I have created my own. I am the Artist, and that is what I think, therefore I am.

Don shakes his head, just not quite able to understand and sink in what is going on currently. This man, being, thing, He sighs and continues.

"So then, what is your purpose in making these realms, and how many have you made?"

Because I can, simply. I was put here, and started tinkering around with all the things I could do. Then I discovered that I COULD make these "realms" and make more once they fall apart. Look around you now. You are in the unfinished realms. The future will reside here, once your realms have fallen into darkness.

The Artist gives him a wicked smile. Don notices that he has sat down in a chair, which he failed to notice was there. He was also holding a glass of whiskey, which he sets down on a glass table with a cracking clank.
 

HarmakAnna

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[The fact that this thread is just lyin' here is annoyin' me. Defiant_Blob , if you will finish your part and create your own cue where you die heroically, that would be nice. If y' want someone else t' write it since you're leavin', tell us now. As to everyone else, GET WORKIN'. THIS NEEDS TO FINISH. DARTH AND DK HAVE BEEN THE ONLY MAIN CONTRIBUTORS AFTER I FINISHED. So get t' work!]
 
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