Morning Breakfast This topic is semi-literate. This means there is a requirement of at-least [125] words per post. Don't worry about being 'scared' to participate in this Role-play. Its the first time we've held a real one on ECC, so everyone's going to have to get themselves situated. Feel free to participate. Having questions about what a term means? Want some hints on how to role-play better? Check out the Welcome to Roleplaying thread! Please do not post anything remarking "cool!" or something like that. If you think its that cool, just participate!
A blue tint in the sky rose over a large city somewhere on the planet of EcoCityCraft. The air was crisp: winter had set in weeks ago. Leaves had long fallen off the trees, and everyone had unpacked their winter clothing. A young man dressed in casual clothing walked down the street alone, his breath turning to frost in the air as it floated upwards. He made his way through the city, block after block, until finally reaching his destination. He stopped at the front door of a restaurant whose shades were pulled down in front of the windows. “Cold today, Frank” the figure mumbled to himself. He pulled a key out of his pocket, slowly fumbling with it until he was able to unlock the large, iron door. He stepped through the doorway; the warm air brushing against his face accompanied the ringing of a bell as he closed the door behind him. He grunted, searching the wall for something that seemed to escape him more times than necessary. Eventually, his hands found the tip of a lever, and he flipped it up, squinting his eyes in regret as the redstone lamps blazed on. He looked around, admiring the cleanliness of his restaurant. He moved about, beginning to warm up the ovens and slowly preparing the food for the morning. After about half an hour, the door swung open, a dark black figure arching down as it moved through the doorway. Frank nodded, remarking “Morning Bob” to the enderman that stepped through the doorway. The enderman grumbled back, setting its hat and coat on the rack to the side of the door. It made its way past him and through to the kitchen, pausing only for a moment as Frank questioned “Mind cutting up some more bacon?” to which his reply was another, alien-like grumble. As the clock ticked “6:30am”, Frank moved from behind the cChromed counter, pulling the blinds up from the windows. Still only a few people were moving about, business men with their coffee, police riding horses down the street, and children making their way to school. He slipped back behind the counter, pulling on his apron and putting on his Nametag as he chucked at the sound of Bob the Enderman fighting with a pig in the kitchen. He sat down on a stool, waiting for his first customer of the morning.
On the same cold morning, Michael, toiled away at his blacksmith job. He hated it. Some guy named Steve had walked in, used his anvil, stole his coal, and took the contents of his chest yesterday. He was just a poor villager after all and hot-shots like Steve generally walked all over the villagers. He shook his head. Today wasn't the day for him. He closed down the shop and decided he need a hot cup of coffee. As he walked block by block to Frank's shop he passed villager after villager. He gave a small nod to each and continued on his way. He was pretty sure he saw one or two of them making hearts at him, but he really wasn't in the mood. As he approached the only coffee shop nearby he let out a soft sigh. He was just happy to get one thing right for the day. As he entered the shop he glanced at an enderman gave off its weird ominous noise. Michael never really liked that noise and cringed internally. He knew, however, it would be rude to the enderman and possibly cause a fight if he did anything outwardly. He walked up to the coffee man, Frank, and said, in villagerese, "Hey Frank, how ya doing? I could really use a villager size cup of coffee."
Frank sat on his stool, watching as people and villagers walked down the streets. It was still slow; the clock still read that it was before 7am. He watched as a familiar villager game into sight, making his way towards the restaurant. As he stepped into the restaurant, the bell atop the door rang and Bob in the back made a grumble, still fighting with the pigs. He poked his head out, wishing the villager a good morning, but the villager responded with a scared gaze. The villager, who he now recognized as Michael, sat atop one of the stools on the other side of the counter and ordered his coffee. “My days going fine so far, bit cold and all but its going well.” He paused, nodding when Michael ordered his coffee. "Sure thing, Mike." He moved to the back, pouring a cup full of hot coffee. He set the full mug atop a small plate before placing it in front of the villager, remarking “Hows your week been? Didn’t see you yesterday” as he pushed a small bowl of plastic half-and-half containers his way.
Michael shook his head, "I swear these people keep getting crazier by the day. I came home to find my chest looted, my anvil used, and my coal missing. I know exactly who did it too! But sadly, Steve has all those crazy contraptions protecting his house. I just hope he never comes back." Michael sighed heavily looking sullen. He was truly tired of the theft that occurred around their lovely city. It was so beautiful, and yet villagers were truly discriminated against. They had no rights, no access to /lock. They were second class citizens who still payed taxes. His eyes lit up a little as he took a swig of his coffee, pulling it up with his two arms. He let out another sigh and then said "By the way Frank, this is good coffee."
Frank nodded, listening to the story that Mike told him. It was the same thing he had heard time and time again: villagers being too scared to actually tell the police, the government, or anyone otherwise that they were being mistreated. Even in a city as modern and open as the one he lived in, there were still inequalities that existed. There were still things villagers, and even most other mobs, couldn't do that regular users could. “Thanks” he replied when Mike complemented his coffee. The littlest things proved to make peoples days brighter, and whether that was a cup of coffee or a sandwich, he was happy to oblige his loyal customers. In the background, he could hear Bob grumbling and complaining as he finally managed to subdue the pig and begin preparing for the breakfast rush. "Not many people out yet. Must be the cold" He said to Michael.
Michael let out a hearty laugh, "Yeah, I've been seeing more snow golems around. You know, they say that is a sign that winter is coming." Michael shook his head, "But thats just an old wives tale." Michael leaned in closer and whispered very lowly to Frank, "But I have heard another rumor of why its getting so cold." The look on Michael's face darkened. "There is a story passed from villager to villager child, through generations. This story speaks of one with the power to control the weather, the blocks, our very lives. Some users called him 'God' others think it is 'Andrewkm.' The villagers know the truth though." Michael took a deep breath, "There is one we refer to as 'Herobrine'. He was here before the players. When it was just the villagers." He looked around almost fearful someone was listening in, "Herobrine is said to look like a user. His eyes are a demonic white, like quartz. He terrorizes people for fun. My people think he has returned... That this weather is his fault." He then took a gulp of coffee and then put on a small smile, "But that's just ridiculous, right?"
[IC]: At a nearby table, half awake and half awake lying in a pool of alchohol, is Gordon, the town drunk. In this half-minded state, he overhears what Frank and Mike seem to be going on about, but not as well understands it. He catches everyone's attention when he slowly eases himself up, onto his chair and, finally, his feet. Gordon towers above everyone in the restaurant by at least a block. His leather tunic seems to be 3 sizes too small, though, and his rather protruding stomach shows all the potions and porkchops accumulated over the years. Eventually, Gordon burps rather loudly, and yells so everyone can hear: "Ay! You two! I hear whatcha been sayin' bout ol' Herobrine and his weather control. I'se been round these parts long enough to know whatcher sayin' is the truth! His white eeeeyes are coold as ice! He's been a-real and waitin' for his time, time to stttttriii-" And with that, Gordon falls on the table in a drunken sleep, dreaming of more porkchops, more potions, and in the midst of all this, what unusual weather has seemed to come upon the town and it's peaceful residents. [OOC]: I hope this is good enough
Andy, the redstoner, slowly walks into the shop. He was the average size and build of a villager, and owned a shop adjacent to his hut. Andy was one of the smartest villagers in Ecocitycraft, and ordered a single piece of bread. Frank gave Andy the piece of bread, and Andy immediately gobbled the entire loaf up. "Why is it so cold in here? I swear, that man's coffee over there," gesturing towards Michael, "Is frozen by now!" As Michael sat to drink his coffee, it would not budge from his cup. "SEE, I TOLD YOU! Where is the furnace, I am putting in some charcoal in it. It is too cold to even move," Andy said. Bob the enderman grabbed onto Andy, and teleported him to the furnace. Andy tried to get it open, but the redstone was detached. "Bob, take me back to the counter, I need to fix the furnace with some redstone I have in my hut," Andy asked politely. Bob obliged, and disappeared along with Andy in a whiff of purple particles. When Andy was done teleporting, Bob picked him up elegantly, and forcefully threw him onto his chair.
Robert, the traveling merchant, was from the town of Villagetopia, the capital of the Villager nation, and decided to sell his items on this fine night. He bought a house near the restaurant and decided to join in on the conversation with these "large" villagers named Michael and Frank. "Ay, I have heard of this tale, and here are the true blocks that Herobrine himself has placed!" Robert exclaimed. "Only $250,000 a piece for these dirt blocks from Herobrine's home." Robert looked at Michael and Frank's faces and continued, "Oh, I see your faces are full of scorn! Don't worry, I will lower it to $100,000 per block! They will be labeled, so you will not get confused!"
Michael and Frank did not entirely trust Robert, as anyone who went within miles of Herobrine's mansion were immediately killed by his Enderman army. There was only one person whom had survived the wrath of Herobrine, and lived to tell the tale, he did not tell of bringing items back from his journey. Frank asked Robert, "Who got these for you? No one in all of this world is insane enough to go willingly". Robert was taken aback, but still saw the reasoning, as he too remembered the long old tales of "He who survived", "Please do not feel alarmed by what we both know of the history of Herobrine's mansion. These blocks came from his own endermen army who stole blocks from the surrounding environment. Because of that, I will drop it to $80,000 per block, that is more than a fair trade, considering the stature of enderment these days."
Frank and Michael were still puzzled as to why Robert had survived. Frank gestured to Michael to step to the side for a second to chat. "You reckon he stumbled into one of those Witch Huts down the road before coming in?" They both started laughing hysterically. "That's some good stuff Frank," said Michael, "but I mist run now. The wife is probably home by now after working late, and there's no one else there to watch little ol' Timmy. I'll catch you tomorrow for some more of that Class-A coffee. Maybe tomorrow will be better than today. Good day gentlemen." Frank nodded and Michael left the shop and went back down the path he'd came across earlier that morning.
Jason slowly eased open the door to the little shop and ordered some coffee. The entire shop went quiet as Frank prepared the drink. Jason eased over to the table in the corner and sat down, sipping his coffee. Robert excused himself saying he had business elsewhere, and quickly left the shop. Even Gordon, after noticing Jason, quickly got up and brushed past Robert as they both headed toward the door. Frank moved back into the kitchen muttering. "I don't know either Bob, you know players never come to this district of town. They don't bother with us villagers." Bob gave a worried growl and moved back to preparing the bacon. Jason continued to sit there, sipping his coffee. Several villagers and mobs came and went through the day, not staying long after noticing Jason in the corner. Eventually closing time came. Without saying a word, Jason left his coffee and his payment on the counter, and left. "I don't like it either Bob, he scared off most of the customers. I can't imagine what he's doing in this part of town either, but I have heard rumors of villager sympathizers showing up. I've also heard tell of more villager discriminators too. I don't like it." Bob gave a worried growl, and they both closed the shop and left.
