#marvin never jokes about cat spells

[greydoesthearts]

Cat Got Your... Innards?

A/N: 2/2 of ALTRverse Marvin writings for today and I have quite clearly woken up and chosen violence.

VERY BIG WARNING for gore/torture and, as the title probably predicates, talk of guts and stuff. If you have any doubts, probably don't read it.

Words: 1821

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Marvin stared at the pages in front of him, but as usual he was unable to focus on any of the words. They didn't move so much as... shimmered along the page. It was giving him a headache to keep trying, so he slammed the book closed and sat back in his seat.

It was mostly from being tired, but with a combination of his ADHD being extra bad right now in a sort of magic burnout. He could try as much as he wanted, but he'd never focus.

So he put it down for the fifth time this week. The spell could wait that much longer if need be.

He closed his eyes as he sat there, enjoying the silence, and the weight of his pendant against his chest, like a soothing reminder. His hand closed around it and he stayed like that, trying to gather the energy he needed to get up and go do other things.

Like lie down in his bed and do nothing. Or sit on the couch and do nothing. He fucking hated burnout with about as much passion as a raging forest fire.

For a few minutes, those were the only thoughts surrounding him, until his feet finally decided to move under him and he walked towards the door of the study with his cat pendant in his hand.

As soon as he hit the hallway, he noticed that the air was thick with electricity and static, every step a struggle.

"Fuck--" he had just enough time to blurt before he was thrown to the ground in the upstairs hallway of his apartment. He gasped as the wind was knocked out of him, but he recovered quickly and got back up, ready to use his necklace, but he was thrown again by an unseen force.

This time his back hit a wall, and while his tattoos lit up with magic, he couldn't do anything to release it, not seeing his target until it was too late, and a flash of silver caught his hand, slicing it.

He cringed in on himself, dropping his pendant back onto his chest as he lay there.

Gods, he was getting too old for these surprise attacks.

The air became staticky again, and the knife disappeared into a waiting hand above him, as bare feet, the legs of which were clad in black jeans, appeared in front of his face.

"Man, and I thought I enjoyed getting my reality's Marvin down!" His voice screeched delightedly.

There were a couple differences between this guy and the one he had dreams about, and that was the horrid record-scratchy sounding voice, and the green hair that was somehow several shades at once, ever-changing. He still didn't know his name.

Marvin caught his breath enough to magic away the small gash on his hand and push himself up onto his hands and knees.

"Oh, and he bows, how nice~" the demon, man, whatever he was, called out in a taunting way.

"You'll learn to shut your mouth one day, glitch," Marvin heaved a breath and looked up at him through his long lashes. "You here for another ass kicking? What a masochist."

The creature's jaw twinged as he smiled down at Marvin. "Takes one to know one, doesn't it?"

Oh, but of course, he was all jokes! How had Marvin forgotten. He didn't respond, at least, getting himself off the floor only to be pressed into the wall with a knife blade against his throat. The demon's so-called 'specialty'.

"Fuck you," Marvin hissed as the blade pressed into him, drawing blood.

But, this time, the demon seemed none as interested in the oozing substance, as he was the wooden cat on Marvin's chest that he usually kept hidden in his shirt. He kept Marvin pinned there, unable to move without being cut, as he slid his fingers beneath the string of the necklace and yanked it off of Marvin's neck roughly.

Marvin's eyes went wide. "Wh- hey!"

"Strange little thing, isn't it?" The man asked suddenly. "Couldn't imagine needing something like this to function with my magic."

Marvin had some choice words to respond to that with, but as he moved forward to argue, the other just pressed the knife further into his throat and turned away with the pendant, saying, "I always knew you were a pussy."

"Shut the fuck up--"

"Down, kitty. I still have the knife and you don't have good enough magic," the man said, glancing over as if trying to challenge Marvin. Marvin backed down. "Good boy."

He hated feeling this helpless. The magic burnout was doing him no favours, especially in this situation. He needed to get his necklace back before all hell broke loose and this guy started some doomsday type shit (not actually, but even Marvin at his big age liked to pretend).

"Give it back to me, now," he hissed through his teeth as it was the only way the knife wouldn't harm him too badly.

The demon kept glancing between him and his pendant, and eyed him up and down before his grin widened. "You didn't say where~"

In a flash of electricity from both parties, Marvin's magic fighting back a little late and a little slow and weak, Marvin was on the floor beneath this man, pinned beneath his knife on his neck and his knees on Marvin's hands so he couldn't grab at him or summon any good spells. If he thought he felt helpless before, then he felt worse now.

"Get off of me!" he shouted even with the ever-looming threat of the knife. But the man had no problems simply existing on top of Marvin, all threats and wide black eyes and green hair.

He grinned down at Marvin as he sat on his hips, then finally removed the knife, switching hands to dangle the pendant above him instead. Marvin thinks the knife must be in his dominant hand now, as he traced it along Marvin's abdomen with the utmost control.

"Are you sure? You don't want this back?" he asked.

There was a coy tone to his voice that Marvin absolutely didn't like the sounds of, and he struggled to free himself, flailing his upper body and legs wildly to try and gain some semblance of control, but it was useless.

Then he moved and the knife drove into his stomach, the demon slicing the layers of Marvin apart with ease. He screamed out, but it was his own lonely apartment above his own lonely bookshop, so there wasn't much anybody could do.

He screamed until his throat hurt, and then it still wasn't done, but he was out of juice.

Blood and things slid down his sides, his shirt dirty already, but that was obvious. There was so much of everything, and this man seemed to keep going until he could see his fucking guts and organs.

Marvin almost passed out as he caught just a glimpse of all of the gore. But there was just enough clarity left in him to watch as the man did the most horrifying thing imaginable.

He was split open down the middle, the knife pulling one side open just enough for it--the demon, that is--to drop Marvin's necklace into his own bared organs.

He gasped, the sensation sickening as his innards squirmed with the intrusion. There was nothing he could do to stop the sick from rising to the back of his throat, but then the demon rose off of his hands and left him to lie there, panting and forcing his hands and body to stay put.

There was no way this was good to keep inside of him, but the only other option was--fuck, it was something he couldn't even think about but it was really his only option.

"You- you fucker," he hissed at the man even as the dizzying pain took over.

One hand rose, achey from being underneath the being's knee, and hovered above his stomach, quite literally as the organs tried to push out with his strain. He tried to not focus on that and instead focus on his magic, but it refused.

Refused to cooperate, to even activate as his body grew weak. He screamed again but it was barely anything compared to before, and only served to strain his split skin and organs more.

The man walked around Marvin's fallen body, licking his bloody, gorey knife clean. "What an absolutely... lovely sight. You know, I haven't had this much fun in a long time."

Marvin continued to ignore the demon's words, forcing himself to breathe as his hand kept hovering, powerless above his stomach. It was going to have to happen, he just needed to get a fucking grip.

It wasn't bravery he needed to collect, it wasn't even trying to stop the sick feeling--

It was the pain, excruciating just as when the necklace had been dropped, to the point he couldn't imagine how bad it'd be to have to go digging through his own innards to retrieve it.

He could just leave it. Why couldn't he just leave it alone. Right, because he needed it. Fuck...

Not waiting another second longer, he reached into the split in himself. He tried to think of it like a surgery; he'd sat through one of those... from other people... while unconscious. But he'd done it-!

The pain was white-hot and tears didn't even prick at his eyes, just immediately stung them and ran down his face. His vision was black, and white, and every other colour he could think of to exist. He couldn't see the demon anymore, his own apartment, nothing.

He could barely feel his hand inside of him.

But at the same time he could feel every little wriggly movement of his fingers, and his organs shifting. Not out of place, gods, no. Just moving with him, wanting to escape. Maybe something had fallen out, he didn't know.

Was he even going to be able to tell the difference between the wooden cat head and anything else inside of him? Everything was slippery with blood and he realised he couldn't risk a mistake.

The string. He needed to find the string.

He needed--

Fuck, he was losing too much blood here. He needed... what... what did he need?

He could just barely hear the demon leave in a flash of sparks, probably bored with his torture, yet Marvin had no chance to be happy about that. He was struggling, and bad. Focus, focus, focus! There. There was something that didn't belong, and with a last flash of clarity, he grabbed it and pulled it out of the wriggling mess inside of him. It hurt, it hurt so badly, but suddenly his tattoos were lighting up again and despite the weakness, his wound slowly began to close. Relief. But not freedom, not yet.

What a fucked up day.

[falseroar]

Midnight Masquerade

((In which (Actor) Mark finally puts on that masquerade with the help of Jack and their combined egos. It’s to be a night of fun, dancing, and mystery, even without the arrival of a certain unexpected guest. Near the end there is a reference to the song “Remember Me” from Coco, and the version I had in mind is the cover by The Hound + The Fox, if only because it had a nice blend of slow and fast (the original version is awesome, but might be a little too upbeat here XD).

Warnings: There is no Maskiplier in this story, so no warnings this time except for the usual angst. This is the last planned story for the whole Can You Wake Up? series though, and there are a lot of references to the other stories here so it may be a little confusing if this is the first one you’re reading.

It’s definitely on the long side, but it felt better to keep it all in one post instead of cutting it up, so...*shrugs*))

When you arrived at the dance hall with Amy, Tyler, and Ethan, the four of you found the massive room already bustling with activity as Mark, Jack, and almost all of their egos finished up their share of last-minute preparations before the guests arrived. Said room looked more like a ballroom from an overblown Victorian-style mansion than some place they had rented for the night, with vaulted ceilings, shining floors, (faux) marble columns, doors that swung out onto balconies that overlooked the hillside and the city down below, the whole nine yards.

The stage on the far side of the room looked almost out of place with the microphone stands and the DJ equipment, not to mention all of the speakers strewn up around the place which the Googles were doing final sound checks on while you and the others walked over to the long tables just inside the entrance where a couple of egos were arguing over arrangements.

“This should be the last of the masks,” Amy said as you and Tyler put your boxes down on the nearby chairs, as there wasn’t any room left on the tables for them. “Definitely more than enough for everyone who’s coming and then some.”

“I hope so,” Tyler muttered, rolling his arm as he straightened up. “If we left anything else back at the house it can just stay there, because I am not going back again.”

“What?” Ethan asked sarcastically. “You don’t want to sing along to Disney songs in traffic for another hour or two? Who even needs to go to a dance?”

“Oooh, let’s see what we’ve got in here,” Randal said as he ripped open one of the boxes to reveal a stack of masks in various styles and colors. Even a quick glance at the table told you there didn’t appear to be any two that were obviously the same, which was apparently making sorting and laying them out difficult, to judge by the argument currently going on between Bim Trimmer, Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein, and Ed Edgar.

“It only makes sense to arrange by zhe size,” the doctor said, placing his hands on his hips even as Bim shook his head. “Who cares if it’s red or blue if it doesn’t cover your face right?”

“Okay, clearly you don’t understand anything about color coordination,” Bim said, gesturing toward the doctor’s suit and earning a gasp in return, “But most people are going to want a mask that matches their style, that’s why we need to have warm colors on this end, cool colors on that end, and fashion tragedies such as yourself over in the corner.”

“How dare you! I am dressing very snazzy!”

“Pft, sure, you’re really stretching out of your comfort zone with that white suit,” Bim said, getting a simultaneous “oooh” from both Tyler and Ethan. “Did you leave your surgical mask at home, or do you think that will be enough to cover your face?”

“Vhy you—”

“Okay, maybe you two need to walk away and leave this to someone else,” you suggested, inserting yourself between them before Schneeplestein could think of a comeback or, more likely, smack the game show host. “I’m sure either way would work just fine.”

“I don’t see what the big deal is here,” Ed rumbled. He reached into the box Randal opened and grabbed a bunch of masks, which he promptly dumped into the middle of the pile to Bim and the doctor’s obvious horror. “They’re just going to get tossed around anyways, why not let people dig around for the one they want?”

“Okay, how about no,” Bim said, snatching the box away from the salesman’s hands before he could do any more damage.

“Zhis is not some rummage sale,” Schneeplestein agreed, already trying to gather up the masks and at least lay them out so they were all clearly visible. “Zhis is a classy event for charity, Mr. Edgar. Ve do not want people spending all night digging around for masks!”

“I don’t know, I think just seeing what you can find is part of the fun,” Amy said as she picked up a butterfly eye mask and held it up to her face with a smile. “Ed and Y/N are right, don’t get too caught up in overthinking it. After all, the guests are going to be here soon, so you’re not going to have time to organize them all.”

She immediately put the butterfly mask down and reached for another, crying out, “Oh, is this an alien one? Look at the big eyes!”

“I like the colors in this one,” Tyler said, tilting a full-face mask this way and that so that it caught the light. “What about you, Y/N? See any you like?”

You hesitated and Bim added, “You could certainly use some more color in your outfit. Your suit is about as basic as it can get.”

You shrugged as you looked down at the suit in question. He was right, it was a basic black suit with a white shirt underneath, one that Mark paid the rental fee on without even asking, which was embarrassing enough. Amy had also offered to help you pick out a dress if you preferred that instead, but you gave basically the same answer then that you did now, which was, “I wasn’t sure what…I would be comfortable with tonight. I’ll think about the mask and pick something out later.”

“Everyone else will be here soon,” Ethan reminded you. “You need to pick something out before all the good ones are gone!”

“Trimmer is right about the color,” Schneeplestein said. “Look around! Vhy, even Darkiplier is vearing more color than you!”

At his gesture, you turned to see the man in question walking in your direction, alongside an ego who looked uncomfortable in his suit with the red checkered shirt underneath it, judging by the way his hands were shoved into his pockets and the turn of his muttering mouth. The Host’s usual white bandages were hidden underneath a scarlet blindfold around his eyes which had the added benefit of hiding any stains that might appear over the night. Oddly enough, he actually matched Dark, whose jacket had a brilliant crimson lining clearly visible as he stopped to take in you and the other new arrivals.

“Evelien requires your assistance in the dressing room,” Dark said to Amy, his tone far more polite than you had ever heard him use around the others. Or maybe more embarrassed, as he continued, “We’re not entirely sure what’s wrong, but we think it involves a zipper.”

“On my way,” Amy said, immediately dropping the mask and running toward the side doors as fast as she could in her dress shoes.

Once she was out of earshot, Tyler looked around and said, “Okay, I’ll ask if no one else will: why is he here again?”

Dark narrowed his eyes at the gesture towards himself but spoke with an unerring calm. “I was invited, Benjamin, as you well know. And, unlike several others I could mention in this room right now, I have never in fact killed anyone, so I am uncertain why my particular presence should bother you.”

“You literally terrorized us for years after the manor.”

“’Us,’ being Markiplier, for very valid reasons I might add.”

“Not just Mark. Even people who had literally nothing to do with what happened, like Bob and Wade—”

“I merely wished to have a discussion with them, as it was clear Mark wasn’t being entirely…upfront about his past. It is not my fault they did not handle their time in my realm well.”

You made a noise at that, and he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Okay, I could have anticipated that, but I had nothing to do with them winding up locked in a utility closet, that was all Wade.” There were a few nods to that, as even those who weren’t around at the time could see that happening, and Dark continued, “As I have said before, I have no intention of harming anyone tonight, least of all the guests.”

“Yeah, Tyler, don’t worry about it,” Ethan said, throwing an arm around Dark’s shoulders. “Dark’s just a big ol’ pussy!”

“I will break your arm if you do not remove it at once, Nestor.”

“The Host reminds Darkiplier that he promised to keep his…presence in check this night, lest any electrical interference be attributed to a certain other ego.”

“…I am well aware,” Dark said as he grabbed Ethan’s sleeve between two fingers and let it drop like a piece of trash.

Schneeplestein shuddered at even the veiled reference to Anti and you thought it might be a good time to change the subject.

“I like your suit, Host,” you said, and the ego immediately ducked his head.

“The Host thanks Y/N, even if this is…outside of his comfort zone,” he said, shoving his hands even further inside of his pockets. “The Host came over to let Bim Trimmer and Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein know that he is more than capable of taking care of the mask table for the duration of the dance, if they wish to focus their attentions elsewhere.”

“Thanks,” Bim said. He rubbed at the back of his neck as he admitted, “I was afraid to say anything in case I got stuck with it, but someone needs to be here when the guests come in.”

“Wait, you’re going to be here the whole night?” you asked the Host. “Don’t you want to enjoy the dance too?”

“The Host is not much of a dancer, and he would prefer to be useful rather than sit alone in a corner,” the Host responded. When you opened your mouth to argue, the Host smiled and added, “Besides, the Host is looking forward to talking to the fans, which will be easier for him here.”

“Oh,” you said as it clicked. You suspected that most of the egos had moved to supporting Mark’s idea for this masquerade thing when they realized the same thing: it would give them a chance to meet some of the fans whose love and attention kept them real, and spread that excitement through the rest of the community. Not to mention that all of the tickets sold or given out through multiple raffles were raising a lot of money for charity.

This was a special night for the egos, and not just because it was an excuse to dress up and don silly or extravagant masks.

“Speaking of the fans, showtime’s going to start soon,” Ed said, checking his watch. “Come on, Randal, let’s give everyone a head’s up to get their masks before the rush starts.”

The younger ego nodded and jumped up to join him as they walked toward another group of egos with a box of masks in tow, as if they didn’t have a combined indoor voice that could be heard by everyone in the room.

“I…need to go see Bob and Wade,” Ethan said, waving a seriously creepy mask that was almost all eyes and teeth as he added, “For reasons.”

Tyler snorted and followed to see how that would go and you looked around the room again. With all of the egos running around it was difficult to pick out any one in particular, so you asked aloud, “Do any of you know where Marvin is?”

“Why?” Dark asked, immediately suspicious.

You met his stare and said, “He said he was bringing a tie I could borrow for the night.”

“The magician is in one of the back rooms, going through his case of supplies for tonight,” the Host answered as he settled into one of the chairs behind the mask table. “He is considering which of his tricks might be amusing for any interested fans.”

“The answer being none, I’m sure,” Dark muttered.

“Oh, I know where he is,” Schneeplestein said. “Please, let me show you.”

“Thanks, Schneeps,” you said, taking his offered arm and doing your best to ignore Dark’s suspicious glare. Fortunately, he did not choose to follow you and the doctor across the floor and past the stage, where Mark was going over the rules for tonight with the DJ.

“And stick to the list,” he was saying as you approached. “This is supposed to be a formal dance, not a never-ending loop of ‘Déjà vu.’”

The android behind the equipment, who had skipped a jacket in favor of just a flashy orange vest that showed off his arms, shrugged and said, “If you say so, but, like, I gotta play the ‘Cha Cha Slide’ at least once. It’s the DJ code, dude, no getting around it.”

“There’s no such thing as the DJ code,” Mark answered.

Bing’s mouth dropped open and his sunglasses slipped. “Dude! Don’t disrespect my culture like that!”

“You’re—I can’t…” Mark sighed, hand to his face until he recovered and said, “You know what, fine, you get one hour of requests. That means someone has to actually want you to play the song, otherwise you stick to the list. Got it?”

“Sah, dude!”

“Sweet!” Mark jumped, not realizing he wasn’t the only one on the stage until the man next to him was there, handing a sheet of paper to Bing. “I’ve already got a list, starting with ‘Ocean Man’ and going all the way to ‘All Star’ and ‘Despacito.’”

“Dude!”

Mark flinched at the high five the two shared and said, “Okay, Chase, I get—”

He stopped short when he heard your barely restrained laugh and then saw the expression on Jack’s face.

“Really Mark?” he asked.

“I…meant Seán?” Mark said, and Jack shook his head in mock disappointment. “Look, it’s not my fault you two look the same!”

In unison, Jack, Bing, and Dr. Schneeplestein gave gasps of shock and Jack said, “Come on man, we’re not even wearing the masks yet and you’re already losing track of who’s who. Get it together, Mark.”

“It’s not just me, Y/N, you see it two, right?” Mark asked. “How are you supposed to tell which one’s Chase?”

“Um, I’m pretty sure he’s the one standing on Jackieboy Man and Silver Shepherd’s shoulders to hang up those streamers over there,” you said, pointing at the figure barely keeping his balance across the room.

“Ah, crap, I should probably stop that before someone gets hurt,” Jack said before he jumped down the stage and ran over to intervene.

“See, acting exactly like a concerned dad,” Mark said, gesturing toward the retreating figure and earning a middle finger in return. He shrugged and crouched down so that on the stage he was closer to eye level as he asked, “So are we going to see you out on the dance floor tonight, Y/N?”

“I am making zero promises,” you answered without hesitation.

He laughed and said, “We’ll see about that. You picked out a mask yet?”

“Soon,” you answered. “…But seriously, why masks? After…you know…”

Mark shuddered and just for a second his face clouded over, but he recovered quickly enough. “I had this idea long before that, and, well, it still seemed like a fun idea to get the community together and raise money for a good cause at the same time. Why let that thing ruin the chance to do some good?”

“And a chance to be a little melodramatic?” you asked.

“Why stop at a little?” Mark asked with a grin as he jumped down from the stage. “I want this to be a night to remember, for the fans and for all of us too. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” you said, with more feeling than you meant to, but Mark didn’t seem to notice. In fact, his eyes shifted to over your shoulder just before you heard a familiar voice:

“…Hey.”

You turned around but your response turned into a confused, “…JJ?”

Jameson Jackson winked and held up a recording device before pressing another button, only to get a loud, “TOP O’ THE MORNIN’ TO YA!” that made him jump, one hand to his heart. A second try had the device say, “Jameson Jackson, at your service!”

“Aw, that’s so cool!” you said, and Jameson’s grin grew that much wider.

“He’s been playing vith it all day,” Schneeplestein said with a smile. “Jack and zhe rest of us made it for him for tonight.”

Jameson played another audio clip and this time it was Schneeplestein’s voice, declaring, “I am zhe good doctor!”

“Zhis way he can join in zhe fun of zhe masks and pretending to be everyone else,” Dr. Schneeplestein explained.

“I love it,” you said, deciding not to point out the flaw in that logic for the doctor’s sake.

“Plus it means no distracting speech slides,” Jameson added, nodding as everyone within “earshot” blinked as the speech slides appeared before their eyes. He chose another audio clip to add, “This is going to be so much fun!”

“See, getting into the spirit of things already,” Mark said, throwing an arm around Jameson’s shoulders. With a tone that suggested he had practiced this particular line several times, he added, “Part of the fun of a masquerade is hiding your identity and seeing how well we all know each beyond just the faces we put on every day.”

“Well, as ominous and foreboding as that sounds,” you said, ignoring Mark as he sputtered with indignation, “First I need to go see a magician about a tie.”

“Don’t take too long,” Mark called after you and the doctor as you passed through the door near the stage and into the back hallway that ran in either direction.

With the doctor to guide you, you soon found your way to a storage room where Marvin was sitting on a large case and going through some playing cards when you walked in.

“There you are!” Marvin said, jumping up at the sound of the door opening. He smiled and glanced at the doctor, who waved before heading back to the main area. Once he was sure Henrik was out of earshot, Marvin’s smile slipped and his bright eyes looked you up and down from behind a fancier version of his usual cat mask. He was dressed up in a vibrant blue suit, so dark as to almost appear black until the light caught it just right, with green accents on the sleeves and lapels, but it still felt like only a small variation from his usual dress style.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “We don’t have to—”

“I’m sure,” you interrupted, but you admitted, “I’m nervous, but…”

“But this is important to you,” he finished when you trailed off and you nodded, not quite meeting his eyes. Marvin almost sighed but caught himself in time. Because as many reservations as he had about this, he did have some idea of how much this meant to you. And, he thought as he placed the silver case he brought with him for tonight on one of the storage boxes, you had come to him for help before anyone else. Instead he said, “You don’t have to worry, Y/N. If you’re right, then I’m sure this will work.”

He had poured more hours than he would ever admit to you into reading every book he could find on the subject, every spell even partially related, every theory, every charm, and it all pointed to the fact that the idea you had come to him with weeks ago was possible. And if you were wrong, then it would just mean he had wasted time on some admittedly interesting research, so no loss there.

The case contained a tie, a small pin, and a few other things Marvin didn’t think it was important for you to see, at least not yet.

“Basically, the spell is worked into the tie,” he explained as he laid out the piece of fabric in question. “Similar to the spell I worked for the Host, except it’s not complete until I tie it. You’ll also need to keep it on you, which shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Okay,” you said, the word small and almost to yourself. Louder, you said, “Thank you, Marvin, for doing this. I know it’s a lot to ask.”

But you still asked. Marvin had every right to believe that every doubt, every idea how this could go wrong, must have passed through your mind just as easily as his, but you still wanted to try.

Which is why he put on a confident grin and said, “Nothing for a master magician like myself. But first, and most important, there’s this.”

He held up the pin so that you could see it was in the shape of a solid white cat with two gleaming green eyes before leaning forward so that he could pin it to your lapel.

“Is this part of the spell?” you asked, head tilted back so you two didn’t butt heads while he pinned it on.

“No, this is completely different,” Marvin said, hoping you didn’t notice how his hands shook and made pinning it that much harder. He faked a grin and said, “I say the right word and this little pin will turn you into a kitty cat.”

He leaned back in time to see you laugh and say, “Depending on how much cleanup there is after the party, I might just let you do it.”

“Or maybe it’s just cute and matches the tie,” Marvin said with a wink. To his relief, you didn’t question it, although that might have been because you were already watching as he picked up the emerald green tie. “Luckily I got to practice tying three neckties already today, so this part should be easy.”

“Three?” you asked.

“Seán and Chase, plus my own,” Marvin answered. “Jackieboy didn’t need one, Schneeps said he’d prefer a clip-on to having something around his neck, and JJ went with his usual bowtie.”

“You’re the resident tie expert?” you asked and he gave a less than humble shrug. “You haven’t said, how long will the spell last?”

“Until midnight,” Marvin answered, and stared when you gave a laugh at that. “What?”

“Midnight, really?” you asked. “Are you trying to make it as dramatic as possible?”

“It’s traditional, and I’ll have you know, drama is very important in working magic,” Marvin insisted. When you gave him a doubtful look, he admitted, “Plus that’s when the ball is officially over, so it seemed like a good end time.”

“You and Mark should really talk sometime, I think you’d get along if you both gave it a chance,” you said as he began to run his fingers up and down the fabric of the tie, whispering to himself as he did so. “Then again, I’m afraid what you two might come up with if left to yourselves.”

Marvin glanced up and flashed a brief grin before he could stop himself. “That’s probably fair. Are you ready?”

You nodded and leaned forward, head tilted to make it easier for Marvin to turn up your collar and loop the tie around it. As he did so, a last-minute question occurred to you.

“Will I remember…?”

“Probably not,” Marvin answered. “Some things might slip through, but until midnight it will just be like you’re asleep. Dreaming, maybe, but it’ll be over before you know it. Promise.”

You returned his smile, maybe out of reflex Marvin wasn’t sure, and he focused his attention on the tie. As he said, most of the heavy work had already been done, and now it was a matter of will as he carefully created a knot and slid it up into place at the base of your throat. He felt the spell take hold and his eyes flickered up toward your face.

He didn’t expect to see any difference and more than a part of him hoped that it might not work at all, but he was startled that this close he could see the flicker in your eyes before you closed them.

And the District Attorney opened them.

The District Attorney blinked slowly and then stared down at your—their body with a sharp inhale. They started to lift their hands only for the left to stop short on the way up, held back by a handcuff linking their wrist to the handle of a nearby storage locker.

“I—” They paused as though surprised at the sound of their own voice and a flurry of emotions crossed their face, too fast for Marvin to parse.

How long had it been, since they last spoke to someone else?

“I’m impressed,” they admitted once they recovered, turning their eyes from the handcuffs to the magician. “I didn’t even notice you doing that.”

“Sleight of hand is fun like that,” Marvin said over the scrape of the chair he pulled into place before taking a seat with his legs crossed. “Before anything else happens, I have some questions for you.”

The District Attorney took in the way those bright blue eyes narrowed behind the mask and the cross of his arms, but also the way his foot made quick, nervous motions in the air.

“…It’s Marvin, isn’t it?”

“You know my name?” The magician couldn’t hide his surprise. Marvin had assumed that the District Attorney would have as much trouble accessing your memories as you did trying to remember anything before the mirror. Actually, he had also assumed that the way you talked about the District Attorney as a separate person was just a way of coping with your lost memories, and that theory wasn’t looking too great either.

“Y/N, the one you know, isn’t trying to hide their memories from me. They’re…distant, like watching through someone else’s eyes, but they’re there.” The District Attorney put their free hand to their chest, where they could still feel your presence. Quiet, “sleeping,” but still very much there. A brief, soft smile crossed their face, giving them the patience to look at Marvin and ask, “What is it that you want to know?”

So much. Marvin’s mind was already spinning with theories on how you and the District Attorney could have become like this, two fragments of the same person. He had considered it of course, it was the whole basis for how the spell worked, but now he had so many questions. When did “you” first appear? Was it a side effect from all of those years in the house? Was it when Mark took a piece from the mirror? But there were more pressing concerns that he needed to focus on first.

“You gave Y/N the idea for this spell, didn’t you?”

“Correct.” The District Attorney attempted to lean against the storage locker, but there seemed to be no comfortable way of doing that. “I’ll admit, it wasn’t easy considering we can’t exactly talk face to face, but I’ve found I can have some influence in their dreams, and even then it was a long shot. I’m surprised you performed the spell, considering.”

“Just because I don’t immediately trust you?”

“I was thinking more because you seem to prefer using the same spells over and over again.” The District Attorney’s voice grew sharper as they added, “Speaking of, could you knock it off with the shrinking spells? Y/N has literally had nightmares where they’re tiny now.”

“…I’ll consider it,” Marvin said. The DA raised an eyebrow and he said, “Fine, no more making Y/N tiny…Spoilsport.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing, let’s get back to you. Why tonight? Why do you suddenly want to come back tonight of all nights?”

“This isn’t some sudden thing. I’ve had nothing but time to consider this.” The District Attorney shifted their weight, but the magician made no move to offer them a seat. “I have some things I want to say, and questions of my own I want to ask for myself. Y/N is the one who thought tonight would be best, with everyone in one place.”

They looked down at their suit and tugged at their collar before saying, “I’ll admit that I’m not too thrilled at the idea of a dance. Or this tie. Can I—?”

“Don’t touch it!”

They stopped just short of adjusting the tie and stared at Marvin. “Why?”

“So you just want to talk to some people? That’s all?”

“Yes. I don’t know what else you think I would have in mind, but that’s all. I want to make the best possible use of the limited time I have.”

“Forgive me for not immediately trusting someone just because they’re wearing a friendly face.” Marvin stood up and paced close to the District Attorney, his eyes locking with theirs. “Whatever you need to do, I want it done by midnight, do you understand? And then we get our Y/N back.”

“That’s all I—” The District Attorney stopped short and Marvin froze in the act of getting out the handcuff key when he heard the quiet anger in their voice. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“No,” Marvin said, but they saw the flicker in his eyes as he glanced at their face and back to the handcuffs.

“Is it the tie? Or something about the spell—” The DA’s eyes narrowed when they saw the tell. “What’s wrong with the spell?”

“Nothing! It’s working fine, it let you take control of Y/N’s body like it was supposed to, and at midnight they’ll have the chance to take it back.”

“The chance? What does that mean?”

Marvin quickly stepped back out of arm’s reach before explaining, “The closest I could find to your…situation was two spirits or hearts or whatever you call it in one body. The original spell was designed for, well, possessions.”

The District Attorney was silent as this sank in, not visibly reacting except for their restrained hand, which pressed so hard against the steel binding it that there would soon be a mark on their wrist if they weren’t careful.

“The tie works to safely suppress Y/N, giving you an opportunity to take over. At midnight the suppression wears off, but if you were to resist…”

“There’s the chance I could stay in control,” they finished. Between the two of you, the DA was the older one, the original from which you “split off” to form your own memories, your own heart as Marvin called it. The District Attorney had been their own person before the manor, but you were formed on the other side of the mirror—you weren’t made for this world, not on your own. There was no doubt who was the “stronger” of the two of you, looking at it that way.

“That’s not what you told them.”

“I…” Marvin faltered under their glare.

“How could you not tell them?!”

“Do you really think it would have changed their mind?” Marvin snapped back, his voice rising to match theirs. “You can see their memories, would anything I said have changed their minds?”

“I…” This time it was the DA’s turn to grasp for words.

“They trust you,” Marvin muttered as he took their hand and unlocked the handcuffs. “Which is the only reason I’m doing this.”

He tightened his grip on their wrist as he looked them in the eye, his eyes like cold ice as he added, “But you better believe I will get them back at midnight, whether you’re ready to leave or not. So take care of what you need to before then, understand?”

“…I understand,” the District Attorney said, not looking away. When Marvin released their wrist and turned away, he was surprised again when they added, “Thank you.”

“Like I said, I’m doing this for Y/N,” he answered as he went to the silver case and snapped it shut before making it disappear with a snap of his fingers.

“Thank you for looking out for them.”

Marvin had no answer for that, so he gave a mute shrug and motioned for them to follow him out of the storage closet. It was a silent walk back the way they came, but when he opened the door to the ballroom, they were both greeted by a flurry of voices and low but upbeat music. A steady stream of guests entered on the opposite side, and a sizable crowd was already milling around waiting for the ball to officially start.

“You’ll need a mask,” he said, leading the way across the room.

“Why?” they asked, and he glanced back at the tone in their voice in time to see their distaste as they looked around the room. “Who thought this was a good idea?”

“Your old friend Mark did,” he answered and was rewarded by the flurry of conflicting emotions that sped across the DA’s face before they could collect themselves.

Well, that was interesting.

“Besides, it’s required,” he said. “You’ll stick out like a sore thumb if you’re not wearing one.”

They muttered something about dramatic idiots and Marvin suppressed a grin. Maybe they weren’t that different from you after all.

By the time they crossed the room, the crowd around the table had started to diminish, but not enough for Marvin to notice who was sitting behind the stack of masks until he heard the narration.

“The Host hands Jeremy a mask that will certainly catch the eye of that particular someone and suggests that if Kiri is interested in a snake motif then she should take a look at the far end of the table where Jackieboy Man is assisting guests. Marvin stops short at the sound of the Host’s voice, but beside him the District Attorney—”

The fans nearest to the table were either too focused on picking out masks or trying to find their friends to notice as the Host rose from his seat, but Marvin still swore he heard the noise in the room dip as he spoke again, his voice low but trembling with anger.

“What has the magician done?”

“Uh, sorry, did you call for me Jackie?” Marvin said, not taking his eyes off of the Host.

“Kind of busy over here bro,” Jackieboy called from the other end of the table, even though he was clearly just posing for a picture with some grinning fans.

“Yeah, yeah, must have just been Jameson, I should…go…”

Then, dropping all efforts at pretending, Marvin turned and sprinted away into the crowd, leaving the District Attorney alone with the Host, whose furious narration was immediately rewarded by a yelp from the magician somewhere in the distance followed by Mark’s voice yelling about spilled punch.

“And then the magician—” The Host stopped short when he felt the pressure of a hand on his arm.

“Don’t, please,” the District Attorney said in his ear. “Y/N asked him to do this, just for tonight.”

The Host pulled away, his face turned toward theirs as though studying them through the red blindfold.

“The Host does not doubt his Y/N would do such a thing, but he does doubt that either Y/N has fully thought through what they have planned for tonight.”

“I just want to talk,” the District Attorney said, even as they felt a sense of unease at the Host’s words. “And I have thought of nothing else for a very, very long time. Our—your Y/N will be back safe and sound at midnight. No one, especially them, is going to get hurt. I promise.”

“The Host asks the District Attorney not to make promises that they have no control over.” Bitterness tinged the ego’s words, even as he added, “…But the Host will—”

He stopped, interrupted by the amplified tap of a finger on the microphone before a voice similar to his own came out of every speaker around the room and the crowd as one turned toward the stage with more than a few cries and shouts.

“Hello everybody, and welcome to the masquerade. I’m Markiplier—”

“And it’s me, the one and only Gaelic Gladiator,” chimed in the man next to him over the crowd’s applause and cheers.

Next to Mark.

The District Attorney stared at him up there on the stage, at the embroidered flowers splashed across the chest and running down the sleeve of his jacket, a dizzying array of colors designed to catch the eye, and at the white partial mask that did nothing to hide the shape of his face or his identity. How he drank in the audience’s attention even as he and Jack spoke about the masquerade, about the charity this was all for, their voices mingling and distant even as the light background music and every clap and laugh grew louder and more distorted.

There were so many people here. Despite the distance between themselves and the nearest guest, the District Attorney was suddenly aware of the press of bodies, the voices murmuring even during the rehearsed speech, the colors glaring against their vision even as the amplified voices caught and grated against their eardrums and this was a mistake, they couldn’t do this, they—

Your presence stirred and the District Attorney felt your concern like a sudden hand reaching out to steady them. They put a hand to their chest and took several long, slow breaths until their heart rate steadied.

I’m okay, they thought, and they felt you slipping back into your “sleep.” There was something about the idea of you so ready to step in and protect them that made the District Attorney smile.

For just a moment they caught Mark’s eye and just as quickly looked away. It took several seconds before they realized that the music had returned and that there was movement going on in the center of the dance floor.

The masquerade had officially begun.

Turning back to the masks and the Host, they couldn’t help but notice just how much he looked like Mark. It had been easy enough to ignore with the red blindfold around his eyes, but looking around the room they could see several other identical faces partially hidden by various masks.

Of course, they had also noticed how much Marvin resembled his creator despite a few cosmetic differences such as his hair. Even the man sitting at the other end of the table with the vivid red hood and a gilded blue mask was obviously another one of these egos.

Jackieboy Man. The name swam up from somewhere in your memories, and the District Attorney clung to it, already knowing how much they would be relying on you throughout the night.

“The Host holds out the mask he set aside for Y/N earlier. He had the other Y/N in mind, but it should still match this Y/N’s enchanted tie if they are interested.”

“…Thank you,” the District Attorney said, wondering if their voice shook as they took the offered mask. It was a half mask that covered the eyes and cheeks, the same emerald green as their tie beneath thin golden lines that radiated from the center like delicate, curling beams of sunlight.

“It is just a mask,” the Host answered, his face turned toward the table where his hands were clasped together. “Markiplier has asked that everyone wear one tonight for an effect that should go over well with the fans, but the District Attorney will see for themselves.”

“For that, but also thank you for taking care of the other me.” The District Attorney closed their eyes and let your memories of the Host wash over them briefly. “Thank you for being their friend.”

The Host seemed momentarily lost for words, judging by the way his mouth opened but nothing came out, not even his usual narration.

“Y/N, the District Attorney, can see our Y/N’s memories,” he said slowly, but before they could confirm that he continued, “Earlier they told Marvin the Magnificent that our Y/N is not hiding any memories from them.”

This time it was the DA’s turn to be surprised. “You—Yes, that’s correct.”

They could see the thread connecting one thought to the other in the Host’s narration, but they still weren’t prepared for the accusation in the Host’s voice as he said, “But Y/N cannot access the District Attorney’s memories unless that Y/N allows it. Because it is the District Attorney who is hiding memories.”

“Of course I am,” the District Attorney said and the Host visibly stiffened. “The Host has to know the kind of nightmares Y/N has. What just the memories of our time in the manor has done to them. If it were up to me…I don’t want to share anything with them that might hurt them any more than they already have been.”

“Even memories of Markiplier and Dam—”

“Especially those,” the District Attorney interrupted. They heard the anger in their own voice and added in a much more measured tone, “At least, not all of them, not yet. I don’t…I just want to be careful what I share with them. Sometimes even the good memories can do more harm than good.”

“It is not the Host’s place to comment on Y/N’s memories, so he will not,” the Host said, his clasped hands gripping each other tightly as he added, “But the Host wishes Y/N to know that he will be ready when they need him.”

“You mean ‘if.’”

The Host did not respond, instead turning his face toward a fan that had walked up to the table beside the District Attorney as though to suggest this conversation was over. The DA stepped away but couldn’t resist looking over their shoulder at the ego again before they shook off what he said and put on the mask.

At first the DA strayed around the edges of the crowd, watching as egos, fans, and creators danced together or stood around in small clumps, trying to hold conversations over the sound of the beating music with varying degrees of success. Gradually the tension in their body eased and they began to focus on the individual persons, searching for any sign of familiar to you faces beneath the masks.

But they were spotted first and a voice straight from their past asked, “Y/N, is that you?”

The Detective. He was wearing a mask, a simple black domino mask whose only contribution to hiding his identity was the fact that it actually matched his suit, and a frown as he leaned forward to get a better look at them before smiling as though satisfied. “Good to see you, Partner. I was starting to think I wouldn’t find you in this madhouse.”

“It’s good to see you too, Detective.”

The change in Abe’s posture was instantaneous, like a wire being pulled tight. Eyes blazed behind the mask as his hand went into his jacket and he said, “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m—” The District Attorney lunged forward and grabbed his wrist before he could draw it out of his jacket and tried to keep their voice down as much as possible as they asked, “Why did you bring a gun to a party?!”

“Considering how the last time I went to one of Mark’s parties turned out, why wouldn’t I?” Abe asked, but he released his grip on the gun hidden under his jacket and grabbed their wrist instead. “And you better start answering my question, pal.”

“I am Y/N, just…just not the one you’re thinking of.” The District Attorney sighed and tugged their gripped wrist in the direction of one of the empty tables. “This is going to take some time to explain.”

Abe sat back in his chair and studied them the entire time they spoke, and when they were done he shook his head and said, “You really expect me to believe there’s two of you in there?”

“In essence, yes. I think it’s safe to say that it’s the ‘other me’ you are familiar with and know by this point. After all, they’re the one who’s been your partner for over a year now, compared to the single weekend we knew each other.”

“Which would make you—you’re the one who…”

“What happened to me wasn’t your fault, Detective.” The District Attorney spoke quickly to cut him off before he could follow that train of thought too far, but they looked down, their gaze on their hands fidgeting on top of the table. “I don’t know if you know that, but just in case. And I’ve wanted to say thank you for choosing me to be your partner, for as short a time as it may have been.”

When they looked up, they saw the tears in the Detective’s eyes before he coughed and looked away.

“Yeah, yeah, of course I…” He gave up and shook his head. “Thank you.”

“And I know the other Y/N enjoys their time with you as well,” the District Attorney added, revealing a rare grin.

“Okay, look, I’m already crying, just stop already,” Abe said, but his smile faded slightly as he studied their face again. “What happens to you at midnight? When the spell ends?”

The DA shrugged. “Things will go back to the way they were before. For me, it’s like…being asleep, I suppose, except I have some awareness of what’s going on with the other me. The important things come through, at least.”

They had chosen to leave out Marvin’s warning, for the Detective’s own peace of mind.

“That’s…” Abe trailed off, unable to find the words.

How could they look so okay with that?

Before he could protest, two masked individuals approached from the crowd and stopped at their table.

“You two aren’t just going to sit here all night, are you?” asked the one on the left, the one wearing a butterfly mask emblazoned with bright colors that shimmered with the lights.

The District Attorney hesitated, just long enough for your memories to resurface. “It’s…Amy, right?”

“Got it in one!” she said with a laugh. She pulled out the chair next to them and sat down while gesturing at her mask. “I’d wanted to get the alien one, but it was gone by the time I got back.”

“Sorry about that,” said the second woman, who took another empty chair and sat back with a sigh. “The stupid zipper on this dress hasn’t worked right since Jackieboy tried to take it for a spin.”

“I…what?” the District Attorney asked. “We are talking about the superhero, correct?”

Evelien sighed. “Yeah. Yandereplier started it, trying to talk you into wearing a dress tonight, and next thing I know Jackie’s seeing how he looks in one. I took him back to the store so he could get his own dress, and Schneeplestein helped him sew the hood on, but the damage was already done.”

She gestured toward the superhero, who was walking across the floor now, and there were appreciative nods all around the table and a low whistle from Abe.

“He definitely has…the build for it,” the District Attorney said.

“Yeah he does,” Amy said. “Oh. Sorry, Evelien—”

“Please, you should have heard Seán when he saw him,” Evelien said with a laugh. “Look at those legs!”

Abe looked between the three of them as the conversation continued, waiting for as long as he could before he blurted out, “Hey, Amy, where’s Mark at?”

The DA visibly froze and sent him a daggered look, but Amy shrugged and looked around.

“I’m not sure. He said something about his jacket, but I didn’t think he would want to miss—”

As if in response to her words, Mark’s amplified voice rose above the crowd and all eyes turned once again to the stage in response to his question.

“Does everyone have their masks?”

A chorus of cheers and shouts greeted him and he smiled as the other person on the stage continued.

“Fantastic! Now we can really have some fun.”

The District Attorney frowned, recognizing Marvin’s suit and mask up on the stage, but before they could wonder what the magician was up to, he raised his hand up and snapped his fingers.

Immediately, all of the lights in the room went out as one, plunging the masquerade into darkness for just a brief second. The DA felt a hand clamp down on their wrist as if to make sure they were still there, but before the crowd could even panic or start making jokes they were all turning to one another with sounds of surprise and delight.

In the darkness, they could now see that their masks glowed as though lit from within, taking on new colors and patterns in the darkness. The colors in their clothes also took on a lesser glow, so that an idea of the person standing next to them could be seen, if not the whole figure.

“Once an hour, at a random time within that hour, we’ll have ourselves a dance in the dark,” Mark said. His partial mask also glowed in the darkness, and the flowers spread across his jacket left iridescent trails as he gestured.  “Even we don’t know exactly when they’ll happen, but that’s just part of the fun. So hold on to your masks, and be ready. After all, who knows who you might bump into in the dark?”

The music started again, this time with a very different beat, and the District Attorney found themselves being pulled up out of their chair and in the direction of the dancing masks by Amy, whose butterfly mask was such a bright neon blue now that it left trails in the darkness when she turned to face them.

“Come on, Y/N, move it a little,” she said with a laugh. “Don’t be shy, no one can judge you if they can’t see you.”

The District Attorney blinked and stared at her mask. Did its wings move, or was it just a trick of the light streaming from it?

“I’d beg to differ,” they muttered, but began to move in time to the music all the same. “Amy, do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Sure! Music might make it a little hard though,” she said, her own voice barely audible over the incessant beat.

The District Attorney moved closer and asked, “How have you been doing? You and Mark?”

“Crazy busy! This whole thing didn’t plan itself,” Amy pointed out. “How much does it show?”

“It doesn’t—I mean, I just…” The District Attorney let their voice trail off and get lost in the noise.

“But I wouldn’t trade times like this, or any of these last few years, for the world,” Amy continued. This time, the DA was sure they saw the butterfly on her mask flap its wings and realized the blue was shifting into a vibrant, beaming gold as she looked around the room. “I hope he takes the time to stop and enjoy this. You wouldn’t remember I guess, but when I first met him Mark just…couldn’t look past his work, whether it was the latest video or the next project. Bob and Wade told me they used to come by once a week just to make sure he was still alive and then drag him out for a movie or a game or anything to snap him out of himself. Sometimes he slips back into it, but if this makes sense, it really feels like he’s finally remembered there’s a Mark in the ‘Markiplier.’”

“It really does seem like it,” the District Attorney said quietly, and then raised their voice to be sure Amy could hear as they added, “I know he seems so much happier now than he used to be. He definitely smiles more when he’s with you.”

Amy laughed and pushed at their shoulder, but the District Attorney saw the yellow in their mask tinge pink before the song ended and lights came up again around the room, and in turn the masks dimmed back to their normal colors.

The District Attorney glanced toward the stage, but there was no sign of the magician or Markiplier, only the ego in his likeness handling the music. The next song was just as fast as the first and the District Attorney backed away, saying as they did so, “Thank you, Amy. For everything.”

“Now hold on, that was just one song,” Amy said, her smiled widening just as the District Attorney’s shoulders bumped into a pair of hands waiting to catch them.

“You aren’t trying to run away, are you?” The voice behind them sounded like the magician, and when they looked over their shoulder it was the same face, but your memories immediately offered up the name Jack. Or maybe it was Seán? “Come on, Y/N, let’s see you shake those hips!”

“Excuse you?”

“Here, just move like this,” Evelien added as she walked up, the Detective in tow and looking about as thrilled as the DA.

The District Attorney watched Evelien and Jack dance for a few seconds, during which they both tried to outdo each other while not breaking down into giggles as their moves became more and more ridiculous.

“How do I pass?” they said eventually, but Amy took hold of their hands and began pulling them back and forth until they were forced to move their feet. They shot a look at the Detective for help, but he only managed a smirk before he found hands clamping down on his shoulders.

“Someone’s not dancing,” Tyler crowed.

“Get your hands off of me, you washed-up butler,” Abe snapped, but he was helpless in the face of Tyler’s might combined with Ethan, Wade, and Bob, who seemed to have formed a roving band with the goal of getting all the dance-shy guests moving and enjoying the fun.

While he tried to evade them, Abe kept an eye on the District Attorney, watching as they, yes, danced (who taught them the cabbage patch?), but also used every chance to talk to the friends you had made over the last year and a half. About what, the Detective couldn’t be sure, but he often caught them staring too long at faces, brow furrowing as though trying to read beneath the surface of what they were saying. And he saw the same words repeated over and over again, so many times that he started to recognize the shape of them on their lips even if he couldn’t hear the sounds over the music:

Thank you.

The first time he saw them lose their composure was when a slow song came on and one of Mark’s egos tapped them on the shoulder. He saw the way their eyes widened behind the mask, the panic that made them take a step back, but before he could step in they slowly relaxed and said, “…You are…Eric?”

“Uh, y-yeah, it’s me,” Eric said. His bright yellow mask matched the handkerchief in his chest pocket, which he promptly took out to fidget with as he added, “I, uh, sorry if you were, um…Hoping for someone else, but I was…would you…I mean you don’t have to, I just—Sorry, I should go.”

“Wait!” The word slipped out and the District Attorney immediately winced, their hand going to their chest with a grimace before they recovered and continued in their normal, restrained tone, “I’m…not much of a dancer, but sure.”

Eric’s grin, the only part of his face visible beneath the mask, was nervous and hopeful even as he and the District Attorney fumbled in how and where to place their hands before starting a slow, uneven sway much like the other dancers around them.

Abe watched for a moment and then realized he was the only one just standing there amid all of the dancers. More importantly, he had managed to lose Tyler and the others in the dance posse, which meant he was free to leave the floor.

And free to have a talk with a certain magician before midnight.

“I’ve, um, I’ve been practicing but I’m s-still not very good,” Eric mumbled. This close, and he could still barely look them in the eye, only briefly glancing up every now and then in between keeping his gaze firmly on the ground.

“You’re doing fine,” the District Attorney said, and then realized their tone wasn’t exactly encouraging or kind so they tried again. “Just relax. It’s only a dance.”

Eric gave them a bashful smile and the District Attorney could only stare. Even with the mask, he looked so much like Mark. Of course he did, there were over a dozen of them roaming around the room right now, but the idea of this shy, bashful, neurotically nervous person, that any part of him could have come out of Mark of all people was…

“Um, have you, have you been enjoying the, uh…dance? Not the dancing, I mean, I know you don’t like that, but um…everything else?”

“It’s been enlightening so far,” the District Attorney said. They glanced at the clock hanging above the stage and took a deep breath. They could only avoid the inevitable for so long, after all. “Have you seen Marki—Mark anywhere around? I…I need to talk to him after this dance.”

“Um…I think he went backstage a while ago, something about a stain on his jacket?” Eric looked up at the District Attorney and their eyes briefly met. “Is everything…Um, are you okay? You just don’t… Um, never mind, this is stupid, I’m stupid, let’s, uh…How long is this dance?”

“I’m sorry, I just have a lot on my mind,” the District Attorney said. They paused and then gave his shoulder a squeeze as the song came to an end. “And you’re not stupid. Thank you for the dance, Eric. I enjoyed it.”

At that moment the lights went out, plunging the room once more into darkness as an upbeat, borderline funk song came on. The District Attorney wove their way in and out of the crowd in the direction of the stage, too intent on making their way to the back area to notice that a couple of dancers had taken to the stage.

But one of the dancers did notice the mask moving through the crowd out of time to the music and a voice loud and deep enough to be heard over the music called out, “Someone’s a little slow getting into the groove!”

The District Attorney stopped so fast that others around them bumped and jostled them out of the way, but they couldn’t care less. They knew that voice, even without your memories stirring at the familiar baritone, but when they turned toward the stage he was gone, leaving a blank space between the glowing masks.

“Maybe you just need a little encouragement?” he continued and the District Attorney whirled around to stare at the lurid yellow and pink suit that probably didn’t need Marvin’s magic to glow in the dark, at the mask that was a solid white except for the mustache, which was almost as brilliantly pink as the mustache hidden underneath the mask.

Wilford, your memories said, but all the District Attorney could hear was the voice of the Colonel, the slurred, manic voice of the man who shot them.

“Come on up, don’t be shy,” Wilford continued without waiting for or needing a response, and suddenly the District Attorney found themselves on the stage with the other dancers even though they had certainly not taken any of the steps leading up to here.

They staggered back but Wilford caught their hand and pulled them away from the edge of the stage with a laugh and a “Not that way!” The next thing the DA knew, they were mimicking the movements of the dance, or at least from what they could see of it in the dark. Their mind moved achingly slow but, eventually, the thought strayed forward that they would have to catch him before he left the stage. This might be their only chance to talk to him tonight, after all, as both your memories and theirs confirmed he wasn’t the easiest person to get a hold of when he didn’t want to be.

As the music slowed, they stopped pretending to dance, and just as the song came to a close and the lights returned they grabbed hold of his candy-striped sleeve.

“Not bad,” Wilford said, pushing his mask up out of the way as he turned to face them. His eyes glittered in the stage lights as he added, “What do you say to another round, for old time’s sake?”

“I—” The District Attorney let go and stepped back, unable to look away from those eyes, their heart thudding like it just took another bullet to the chest. “This was a mistake.”

“Come on, we can work on the dancing!” Wilford called after them as the District Attorney jumped down from the stage and disappeared into the crowd, but he made no move to chase after them and instead turned to the guests on the floor. “Well, anyone else want to volunteer?”

While a suspiciously loud and Irish voice volunteered to go on stage, the District Attorney wove their way in and out of the crowd, looking for the least crowded path to anywhere, just as far away from all of this as possible.

“Y/N!”

They had no idea how many times their name was called before the weight of a hand on their shoulder drew them back into the here and now.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay. Let’s go over here where it’s quieter, okay?”

They nodded and the hand kept its steady pressure on their back, guiding them through the spinning room and out of the pressing crowd until they were in the back of the room, in the relative privacy and quiet behind one of the fake marble columns.

“Just close your eyes, take deep breaths.”

The District Attorney did as he said, breathing slowly in and out. They felt their panic slowly ebb and fade, but nearly thought they were going to be sick again when they remembered what the magician said about strong emotions passing through to you in your “sleep.” They could still feel your presence, closer than and just as comforting as the hand on their upper arm that squeezed gently as he continued to talk them down.

They risked opening their eyes and found them drawn to the flowers scattered across the white jacket in front of them, droplets of colors that ran down the sleeve and up toward the hand on their shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked and the District Attorney looked up at that white partial mask that covered the left side of his face, at the eyes full of concern on the other side. “Do you need to sit down?”

“No…” They took a shuddering breath and tried again, “No, I just…need a minute.”

“Take all the time you need, Y/N,” he said with a gentle smile. “There’s no rush.”

They might have laughed at the irony of that if they weren’t studying the visible portions of his face closely, looking for what they weren’t sure.

“I realize this might not bring up the best memories for you,” he admitted, watching their face just as closely.

“The—Abe said the same thing earlier. About the…other party.”

His hand on their shoulder tightened, briefly, his mouth turning down before he sighed. “It’s a shame you can’t remember the other ones. And there were others, Y/N. Some a little more…rowdier than others, but not all of them ended badly. Like when we celebrated graduating college together and wound up in a field looking up at the stars. We may have overdone it a little on that one, considering I don’t remember exactly how we got there…”

“I would be surprised if you did,” the District Attorney said, uncertain if it was the sudden venom in their voice or the way they slapped his hand off their shoulder that earned them the look of surprise before they continued, “Considering Mark wasn’t there.”

The noise in the room dipped briefly in the pause between one song ending and the next one starting, a silence as Dark’s lips parted but nothing came out.

The District Attorney had no such problem as they reached up and pulled his mask off, only to toss it on the ground so they could see his face when they asked, “Why are you pretending to be Mark? What was the plan here, why would you—Why?!”

“You remember.” Dark stared at them, eyes wide and showing no sign that he was listening to a single word. “I thought tonight might jog your memories, but—”

He stopped short, and now it was his turn to pull off the other’s mask. The District Attorney took a step back and their shoulders bumped into the column behind them, but they met Dark’s stare head on with a fury and disgust he recognized. Just not one he had seen outside of your reflection trapped in a mirror.

“You…how…?” Dark’s eyes dropped to the emerald tie around their neck. “The magician. What spell is this? How long will it last?”

“Don’t,” they said, putting out a hand to stop him before he could touch the tie. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

“Is it permanent?” Dark’s eyes went back up to their face and he quickly took a step back.

“No, it is not,” the DA answered, stressing every word in an attempt to not raise their voice. “At midnight, this body goes back to the other me.”

“Why? Isn’t there some way—”

“Why would you care?”

Dark paused and then straightened his tie, settling back into his more reserved state as he said, “It is of professional interest to me, of course. After all, that looks like a possession spell our dear wannabe warlock has used.”

The District Attorney kept their face carefully blank, not wanting to give Dark the satisfaction of a reaction to that. “Which is exactly why this won’t last.”

“But it could. You could stay here, with us.”

“And the other Y/N?” they asked, feeling their anger reach a new fever pitch at the word ‘us.’ How dare he say it, how dare he even pretend— “What happens to them?”

“…They’re a part of you, you’re the same person,” Dark started, but the District Attorney cut them off.

“No. Because I will tell you right now, if I had been the one to find you bleeding out on the infirmary floor, I would have kept walking.” The District Attorney looked him straight in the eye as they said, “If it were up to me, the other Y/N wouldn’t even remember your name, or Mark, or any of our time in that godforsaken house.”

“…Would you really?” Dark asked softly.

He saw the uncertainty flicker in their eyes, heard the anger recede into bitterness and sadness as they looked away and said, “I would take back every memory I never should have shared with them, if…”

They took a deep, shuddering breath and continued, “But no, we are not the same person.”

Every memory I never should have shared. Dark thought of what memories you did have, of those long years spent in the house, in that mirror. Maybe a few other, scattered memories that the District Attorney had either chosen to share with you or that accidentally slipped through whenever they felt a familiar touch or heard a certain phrase. Enough to give you recurring nightmares, enough to make you hide yourself away at the sound of thunder or the crack of lightning.

“Only because you made it that way,” he said. “You chose this, to split your memories in two, to keep everything from them. Maybe we should have been tapping the magician for a way to separate you two instead of forcing you together.”

He thought the sarcasm in his voice was audible, but the District Attorney answered them as though they had seriously considered it, “Even if we had a second body, I’m not sure the other Y/N would be able to survive in this reality without me. They were born on the other side of the mirror, after all, and that’s gone.”

“I could always take them off your hands, if you ever find the other you to be a burden.”

“Is that supposed to be a joke?”

“I thought that’s what we’re doing now,” Dark said, stepping closer so that he could still be heard over the music even as he lowered his voice. “You are making this harder than it needs to be. If you would just get over your martyrdom complex and let them become a part of you, there wouldn’t be a problem. They’re not going to do die, they would just become a part of you, like they’re supposed to be!”

He felt his aura straining to be free of the hold he had on it, to grab hold of them until he could force them to see how stupid and petty they were being about all of this and he grabbed the lapels of his borrowed jacket, pulling until the collar pressed into the back of his neck.

The District Attorney stared evenly back at him as they asked, “Just like, say, Celine is a part of you?”

“…What?”

“Celine. What happened to her, when she became a part of you? To—What happened to them? Because maybe they’re still in there somewhere, but they’re not you, not as I knew them. What do you think will happen to the other Y/N, if I took them back? Do you think the last year and a half is enough to even stand up against the pain and heartbreak you and Mark put me through? Remembering the house did enough damage, but to remember you—to remember my friends, what you meant to me, and to have all of those memories, the best memories of my life, tainted and torn apart by what you did? Or I could just leave them buried, safe and away from you while I take control. Is that what you want?”

“Y/N.” Dark breathed their name, the only word that could come to mind as he saw the tears form the in the corner of their eyes.

“It’s not fair.”

Dark froze, his hand outstretched as though to wipe away one of those tears. “What did you just say?”

“It’s not fair how much you look like him. Like Damien.” The District Attorney’s hands clenched into fists at the name and they shook their head as though they wished to say more but couldn’t. Instead, they shot forward, brushing hard against Dark’s shoulder on their way past him and back toward the center of the room, muttering something about time.

Dark looked down and realized that he still had their mask in his other hand. He ran his thumb over the green and gold sun design, their words running through his mind until he felt a cold chill that had nothing to do with his aura.

He didn’t see them, but he did see a familiar white cat mask on the far side of the room talking to the Detective. Dark’s eyes narrowed and he strode forward, no longer certain of what he hoped might happen at midnight but very sure of what he intended to do once he had his hands on that magician.

The swelling anger provided a welcome distraction from the worrying thoughts that were piling up, starting with the realization that his words may or may not have had an effect on what the District Attorney planned to do between now and midnight. Combine that with the unwelcome uncertainty of what he even hoped would happen and it turned into something bordering on worry and concern.

Two things he could very much do without, all things considered.

The District Attorney had every intention of getting lost in the crowd, but somewhere along the way the stares from strangers became more and more obvious. A girl who they didn’t recognize and whose face didn’t appear in any of your memories stopped them and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I—” The District Attorney reached up and brushed a sleeve across their eyes only to realize with a jolt what was missing. “Ah, my mask, I—I should go get another one.”

They brushed off the girl and her friends’ well-meaning offer to walk with them and reassured them that they had plenty of people looking out for them tonight. The truth of which the District Attorney was reminded of when they approached the nearly empty mask table, where a small group had gathered around the Host.

“That story was one of the Host’s favorites as well, which is why he—The Host asks for the group’s patience as he steps aside for a moment,” said the ego, stepping away from the group to hold out a mask for the District Attorney. “The Host hopes this new mask is suitable. Unfortunately, there are not a lot of options on the table now.”

“It doesn’t matter,” they muttered, taking the offered mask. It was a full-face mask this time with a simple design of a face split straight down the middle, separating the mask into half gold and half black. “You could have mentioned that Dark would be impersonating Mark.”

“The Host can see possibilities, but they are not a guarantee of future events.”

“Are there any more possibilities I should be aware of?” they asked as they put on the mask.

The Host hesitated, more than long enough for the District Attorney to know he was putting too much thought to his answer. “…Any warning the Host can give will not make this night any easier for Y/N. But he can tell the District Attorney that seeing Mark again will not be easy.”

“I could have guessed that,” they answered with a sigh. “But I still need to talk to him. I—I…”

“Markiplier has replaced his jacket and is making his way back to the party. He will seek out Amy first…” The Host paused, muttering to himself as he sped through his narration before he nodded and said, “The District Attorney can find him at the punch table three songs from now, if they wish to talk to him alone.”

“Thank you,” they said, unable to hide their surprise. They studied the Host’s face under that red blindfold, but could still make nothing of his expression or his thoughts before their eyes strayed to the group behind him. “Fans of yours?”

“Yes, they are,” he said, and the Host could not hide the smile or the pride in his voice. “Some have read his stories, others have listened to them, but they—They were excited to see him, and to see other fans.”

“Then I shouldn’t keep you from them any longer,” the District Attorney said, smiling as well.

The Host wasn’t the only one of the egos thrilled to find fans among the crowd. As the District Attorney walked across the room, they saw two egos wearing matching white jackets giving a very biased poll to any who would answer on just who was the “number one best real doctor,” a puff of green smoke on the side of the room followed by cheering and clapping as the magician apparently pulled off a disappearing act, and Eric Derekson was positively overwhelmed by the supporting fans all around teaching him a dance the DA wasn’t familiar with but your memories seemed to connect with a game of some sort. They even saw an ego with a squirrel mask and a cape thrown over his suit having a very spirited discussion with several fans about someone named Doreen Green and assuring them that he did, in fact, speak fluent squirrelese.

The District Attorney kept moving around, listening to the music while the words they had prepared to say to Mark ran through their mind again and again.

They could do this.

The District Attorney took a deep breath and walked over to the punch table, where there was a short line for the bowl and the snacks. More people seemed interested in the chairs further down the wall and around the nearby tables, where guests sat with their legs stretched out for a break and where a growing line of shoes suggested some people had rethought the idea of heels for the night. An ego with a bright blue shirt that matched the ‘G’ embroidered on the pocket of his jacket stood impeccably straight near the wall, looking absolutely bored as he watched the table and the immediate area.

Google, your memories offered, along with the mental image of not one but four egos. The District Attorney took a closer look around the room and spotted the other three, all with the same bored yet unblinking stare as they stood sentry near the stage and next to the exits.

The one near the table made no sign that he recognized the District Attorney as they approached and ladled out a drink in one of the small plastic cups, although based on your memories they suspected the android wouldn’t have cared much if he did know.

“No one’s spiked this, have they?”

The District Attorney dropped the ladle and just in time caught the handle before the whole thing could slide to the bottom of the bowl.

“No. No foreign substances have been added to the punch or any of the food,” Google answered with a heavy, dull tone. “This has truly been a waste of my capabilities.”

“Considering alcohol could literally kill me, you could say you have the most important job of anyone here,” Mark suggested.

He was right behind them. The District Attorney felt their grip tighten on the cup, threatening to break the weak plastic and send the contents flooding across the white tablecloth.

“Tell me, when I convey to you my combined processing power and the rate at which I can access and transmit the vast stores of data I have access to after each update, which part of that suggests a walking security camera?” Google asked, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses as he stared past the District Attorney.

“I think I’d have to go with that video you threaten to send to my millions of subscribers every time I put off my Windows update.”

“IT security nightmare,” Google muttered darkly before walking away to take up a new vantage point further down the wall.

This was their chance. There was no one else in the immediate area, just the District Attorney and Mark.

They could do this.

The District Attorney turned around and felt like all of the wind had been knocked out of them in a single blow that flung them back eighty years to a very different party.

Mark must have felt their stare because he tugged at the lapels of his jacket and said, “What do you think? I had to make a change, and I found this one just lying around backstage. It’s reversible!”

It was a brilliant red except for the black lapels and lining. A memory of Dark’s jacket slipped by but the District Attorney couldn’t acknowledge it, not when all they could see was the exact same Mark from before, down to the way he brushed his hair back and up out of his face before he smiled at them, face only half covered by the white mask that dominated the right side.

The District Attorney backed up, but Mark interpreted it as them stepping aside to give him space to get to the punch because he now he was standing next to them, chatting easily as he poured out two cups.

“Joke’s on him if he thinks that video’s any more embarrassing than anything I’ve posted myself. Are you enjoying the masquerade? Met anyone yet?” Mark paused long enough to take a sip of one of the punches and, when a reply failed to come, said, “You don’t talk much, do you? It’s okay to admit if you’re one of Seán’s fans, I won’t take it too personally.”

“Mark, you—” The District Attorney stopped, their words catching in their throat when he suddenly looked at them with recognition at the sound of their voice.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

The District Attorney could only give a mute nod in recognition of their name.

“Oh! Well I guess the masks work, huh?” he said, giving an uncomfortable laugh as he studied them more closely now. “Everything okay? Amy and Seán told me about Wilford dragging you up on stage. If you want, we can…um…”

Mark trailed off, aware that there were very few threats he could use against Wilford that the man would take seriously if not outright ignore.

The District Attorney shook their head and found their voice. “No, it was just a bit…much. Are you—are you enjoying the masquerade?”

It wasn’t the question they wanted to ask. But the District Attorney thought they could build to that, to all the words they needed to get off their chest. Until then, as long as Mark still didn’t know who he was talking to, they might as well pretend everything was fine.

“Of course! Seán and I have been working for months to pull this all together and the fans pulled through for us too. Google’s got the final numbers on the charity donations, but it’s more than either of us have ever raised in one go before.” He looked around the room as he spoke, smiling as he added, “And I think they’re all more excited to see their online friends in person than any one of us. Not that any of the egos aren’t getting enough attention to satisfy even them for a while. Everyone’s playing their part.”

“Like actors in a play.” It was subtle, but the District Attorney could see the flicker in Mark’s eyes, the small double take at that choice of words. Before he could respond, they added, “I ran into Dark earlier. He has on your jacket and an almost identical mask.”

It was just like Mark’s, except flipped to cover the opposite side of his face. The District Attorney supposed it was the closest one Dark could find, with no two masks being identical.

“What? He—that—” Mark sputtered as he spun around to look at the rest of the room, as though he expected to find Dark flipping him off somewhere among the dancers. “I knew he shouldn’t have come, I told you he would pull something like this. What the hell is he doing, pretending to be me?!”

At that moment, Dark was posing with a couple of fans for a photo. A fake smile plastered on his face hid his frustration at losing the magician, who’d disappeared at just the sight of him. There were still a couple of fans hanging around in the general area to see if he would finish the act or at least come back for the rabbit, who seemed to be enjoying life outside of the hat.

On the other side of the room, the District Attorney answered, “He seemed to think this party might stir up some memories.”

“…Oh.” Mark paused and made an effort not to sound too eager as he asked, “Has it?”

“Why?” The question slipped out before the District Attorney could stop it, just one of the questions they had been asking themselves again and again for decades. “Why did you invite me to that party?”

“Maybe now isn’t the best time for this…”

“Mark. Why?”

“I—I don’t know. Being in that house, that thing feeding into all of my anger and bitterness, looking back on it now I don’t know what I was thinking. All I cared about was the Colonel and Ce-Celine…” Mark stopped to take a shuddering breath before he looked them in the eye. “Y/N, all I wanted was to make William hurt any way that I could, whatever it took. You don’t even know all of the terrible things that I did, what I could have become if I hadn’t left when I did. Maybe I thought that if a private detective, a mayor, and his district attorney all leave a party saying that a man killed their host, no one would question it. No one would doubt you. What happened to all of you, I—”

“We were just convenient witnesses,” the District Attorney muttered.

“Or maybe—” Mark stopped himself and shook his head. “Whatever the reason, it never should have happened. None of it should have happened, but all I can say is I’m sorry, Y/N. For as little as that’s worth.”

The District Attorney didn’t answer. They just closed their eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on your presence to calm them down.

“Y/N? You never answered me,” Mark said slowly, as though even he wasn’t sure if he was pushing too far. “Do you remember…?”

He left the question hanging there in the air, hopeful and hesitant.

“Maybe it’s like your egos.”

“What?”

“Us. The District Attorney and the Y/N from the mirror. One is the original, and the other is…someone else. Someone with their own memories, their own personality. One who can’t exist without the original. There are similarities, but we’re as much the same person as you and, say, whoever that is flexing by the speaker.”

“Probably the Silver Shepherd,” Mark said, if only because of the silver mask and Jackieboy’s presence near the ego. “Y/N, don’t talk about yourself like that, you’re not some kind of copy or fake—”

“But if it were true? If there were two of us, somehow split apart, then…”

“…It wouldn’t change the memories we do share. Y/N…” Mark put his drinks down and pulled the DA into a hug. “You would still be my friend. I’d still love you, both of you. Even if you don’t understand my flare for the dramatic.”

The District Attorney stood frozen, hardly daring to breathe. Part of them wanted to lean into the hug, to tell him everything, to spend time with their friend again. But another part of them wanted to push him away, to scream, to tell him apologies and hugs would never be enough to undo what he did to them, to the others, to Damien.

“I can’t do this.”

“What?” Mark asked, but they were already pulling away. He reached out for them, but at that moment the lights went out for the next dark dance.

The sudden darkness surprised the District Attorney as well, and for a moment they and Mark saw each other in the dark. They saw the red jacket, gleaming like blood beneath a partial face that was no longer smooth and white but a spiderweb of cracks out of which spilt light like it could barely be held in. And he saw the green tie that in the dark seemed to swirl with an energy all its own beneath a solid gold mask. And behind and beside the golden mask there was a darker one, moving just out of sync like a delayed shadow, gleaming with an almost violet hue that did not quite blend in with the darkness all around.

It was as though two people sharing the same space looked back at him, before they ducked their heads and turned away. Mark called out, but the District Attorney had already disappeared into the darkness, lost among the other masks. His heart thudded in his ears as the possibility hit him, too much for him to believe or even hope, and too late for him to run after them.

“Google!” Mark realized it was just short of a shrill scream, but it was enough to be heard over the music as a blue ‘G’ lit up near the wall in response. “I need you to help me find someone, now!”

“What’s the magic word?” Google asked.

Mark heaved the hugest sigh he could and said, “Please.”

“Incorrect. The correct response is ‘magic is an inherently illogical system that does not necessarily convey politeness.’ Please try again.”

Mark’s muffled scream of frustration was drowned out by the music behind the District Attorney as they walked out of a side door to one of the balconies that overlooked the lawn. Leaning hard against the stone railing, they took a deep breath of the heavy summer night air and slowly let it out. Or that was the intent, until their breath hitched and they moved to the corner of the balcony, out of sight of the glass doors where they could sink down and sit there, cheek pressed against the stone railing, and just…not think about anything.

They had a lot of practice at that, from their time alone in the mirror.

They did not notice the click of the door opening, or the footsteps that paused when they were spotted, but they did hear the loud greeting that followed:

“Howdy, bitch!”

The District Attorney jumped and whirled around in time to see Jameson fumbling with his recording device, face aflame as a speech slide appeared in the air between them.

“Good gracious! That is not what I meant at all, I swear! Who even put that on this confounded device?!”

Jameson looked up when he heard the laugh that escaped from the District Attorney before they could stop it, and he gave an embarrassed smile before gesturing at the empty ground next to them. “May I join you?”

The District Attorney nodded and watched the ego as he brushed off the stone before sitting down with exaggerated care.

“It is nice to get away from the noise of it all,” he commented, his bright blue eyes watching them just as closely. “But I’m starting to suspect you have a habit of avoiding the dance floor.”

“Not everyone jumps at the chance to waltz, Mr. Jackson.”

“Then I must have been a lucky man, to tempt you once,” he replied with a wink. “And it’s Jameson, if you please.”

“You do remember,” the District Attorney said and his smile widened. They had recognized him through you when he played the song from that night, all those years ago, but as much as they watched him since, as much as they studied your memories and their own, it just didn’t make any sense. How could one of Seán’s egos remember something like that, be the exact image of a man they met decades before Seán was even born but without a voice of his own? “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me how you wound up like this.”

Jameson just pressed a finger to his smiling lips and winked in response.

“Can I at least ask why you’re out here and not dancing the night away inside with the others?”

“A proper gentleman always goes where he’s needed!” Jameson declared, and when the District Attorney seemed more than a little skeptical, he added a second speech slide that read, “Also, I may have overheard the Host talking to himself about you. I don’t think he realized I was there, because…”

He gestured at the speech slide before it disappeared and shrugged.

The District Attorney wasn’t surprised the Host was keeping a narrative eye on them. They placed a hand to their chest and felt your presence, quiet and hopefully dreaming of better things. For a brief second they considered removing the tie, letting you have the body back early and just being done with all of this, but that would only cause you to worry.

“Care to share what’s on your mind?”

The speech slide nudged its way into view and the District Attorney glanced at Jameson, this strange ego who was also out of place, out of his time.

And, without hesitation, they told him everything. About the tie, about the time limit, about how they had so many things they wanted to say, but even looking at Mark or Dark or Wilford brought back so many memories that it hurt to even be in the same room as them, much less talk to them.

“I thought I was ready, I thought I could finally face them myself, but one look and I just—I can’t…” The District Attorney stopped with a hiccup and sob. They couldn’t remember the last time they cried, much less so many times in one night.

“Here.”

Jameson offered them the handkerchief from his chest pocket. When the District Attorney started to refuse, he pressed it into their hands while a second speech slide appeared. “A proper gentleman always has a handkerchief to hand for just such an occasion!”

“I guess I’m not much of a proper anything,” the District Attorney said, putting a hand to their own chest pocket while the other dabbed at their eyes with the offered handkerchief. “Nothing here but—”

They paused as their finger brushed against the jacket pocket and found something. They reached inside and pulled out a small piece of paper, doubled over on itself which when unfolded read:

Tonight is your night. Do what you need to do, but please don’t forget to have some fun!

The District Attorney wanted to smile, but the note just brought a fresh sting to how much they had messed up the time you gave them.

They blinked as a speech slide appeared before their eyes and read, “Maybe you don’t have to face them to say what you need to say.”

“What do you—” The District Attorney stopped mid question when they saw Jameson fiddling with his recording device. He smiled when he caught the look in their eye and another speech slide followed.

“I watched my brothers set it up. Shouldn’t be too difficult to add another recording or two!”

“Are you sure? I don’t—”

But he was already showing them the button to press and how to tell when it was recording.

“Take your time.” He pressed a hand on their shoulder as he stood. “I’ll be waiting by the door when you’re done. After all, the night’s far from over!”

The District Attorney watched him walk to the door, where he stopped to give them a cheery thumbs up before going back in.

Leaving them alone with the recorder, and with everything they needed to get off their chest.

The District Attorney took a deep breath and pressed the button.

It should not be this hard to find one person, even in a crowd this large. That was the thought that occurred to both Mark and Dark as the night wore on and as the District Attorney proved more elusive than either expected. Every time they thought they were close, it just proved to be yet another dead end.

“This?” one of the fans asked, pointing to the gold and black mask Mark last saw on the DA’s face. “I don’t know, I thought it looked cool so I traded my mask for it. Are we not allowed to do that?”

When Dark asked Jameson, the ego paused in the act of eagerly signing with a couple of fans to shrug, a barely visible speech slide explaining, “Can’t say I’ve seen them since the ‘Cha Cha Slide’ when the others showed us how to ‘cha cha now y’all!’”

“Y/N?” Chase said when Google sent Mark his way. “Yeah, we were talking just a few minutes ago with Wade and Bob. Wade thought I was Jack and we were seeing how long it took—”

“Do you know where they went?” Mark interrupted. “What about their mask, what did it look like?”

Chase pulled up his own monster mask to look Mark up and down before he said, “Mark, I understand why you might be worried, but sometimes you just need to let your kid—”

“Brody, if you finish that sentence, I will stuff your tie in your mouth.”

“Have you seen Y/N?” Dark asked during one of the lights out dances, having reached new levels of desperation.

“The Host waits for Dark to see the irony in that question.”

“You know what I mean! Where are they?”

“They are enjoying the masquerade, unlike two men who cannot step back and realize this is not about them. Which is why the Host will not tell Darkiplier where the District Attorney is, just as they refused to tell Markiplier fifteen minutes ago.”

“Because of course you would,” Dark growled. For a brief second two outlines appeared around him in the darkness, red and blue echoes of his form that quickly disappeared when he regained control of himself. “Wait, does that mean Mark knows too?”

The vivid red blindfold was nearly all that was visible of the Host in the darkness as he tilted his head, as though studying Dark. “The Host told him that the spell will end at midnight, just as Darkiplier is already aware. He is employing the Googles to look for Y/N, but they will not relay the information to him in time.”

In the darkness, Mark had come to the same conclusion after one of the Googles directed him to the tables to find that he had, once again, apparently just missed the District Attorney by minutes or possibly even seconds according to Jackie and Silver, who claimed to have broken up a (probably) friendly argument between the DA and Abe that almost ended in a fistfight.

At the suggestion, the android’s eyes took on a red hue that glowed to match his ‘G’ emblem. “Do not blame me for your inferior processing speeds.”

Mark made an inarticulate noise and stormed off, the three egos watching until he was out of earshot.

“Y/N’s not that way, right?” Jackie asked.

“No, I saw them over with Yan and Ethan I think,” Silver answered as he stretched back in his chair, his back popping a little as he did so. “Oof. Not sure what that Detective meant by ‘round two,’ but neither of them was about to pull punches, am I right?”

“The Yellow unit will give Mark an update in…2.5 minutes, depending on Y/N’s status then,” Google declared with a smile. “They have already traded their mask three times since Mark’s last check.”

And so the rest of the masquerade went. Every time Dark or Mark came close to the District Attorney, when they spotted them on the dance floor or chatting with one of your friends, one of the other egos would bump into them or accidentally get in their way and then apologize for a little too long, or one of the random dances would ‘just so happen’ to plunge the room into darkness yet again, to the point even the fans were joking about how short the hours were getting.

Until suddenly it wasn’t just a joke.

Mark gave up on checking his watch when every passing hour just filled him with a new sense of disbelief. There was no way, it had to be wrong, he couldn’t have lost fifteen minutes, an hour, two hours so easily. Instead he turned his whole focus on spotting that green tie among the crowd, he had already lost track of what mask the District Attorney was wearing now—

But he did recognize that white cat mask, even from this far away.

“Mark, please, just calm down,” Marvin was saying to the man in the white jacket embroidered with flowers who had his back to Mark. “You’re starting to scare some of the other guests.”

“Yeah, you should really calm down, Mark,” Mark said, putting a hand down hard on Dark’s shoulder. “We wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“Says the actor.” Dark slapped Mark’s hand away without even looking at him. “And do not tell me to calm down, magician.”

“Wait, Dark?” Marvin looked him up and down, taking in Mark’s jacket and the near identical mask. “Wow, you two have some serious issues you need to work out.”

“I’m not the one with the problem here,” Mark said.

“Debatable.”

Dark scowled at the both of them and grabbed a nearby ego at random with the command, “You. Switch jackets with me, now.”

“O-okay,” Eric said, mumbling questions to himself but doing as he was told all the same.

“There,” Dark said while Marvin gave an approving nod to how the flower jacket suited Eric. “Because that is apparently more important than finding Y/N right now.”

“Do you know where they are?” Mark asked and the magician took a swift step back at the intensity of his voice.

“I, uh…”

“You’re not foolish enough to not keep an eye on them,” Dark said, moving closer to the magician as he lowered his voice. “Are you?”

Marvin hesitated and all three were distracted by Bing’s voice over the speakers.

“Sah, dudes! We have just enough time for one more song tonight—” Bing paused and let the disappointed voices die out before he continued, “But I think you’ll like this one.”

He pressed a button and the queued-up song began to play. It had seemed like a good idea when Amy suggested it days ago, but now Mark wished for anything else as the duet began to play.

Remember me, though I have to say goodbye

The response from the crowd was immediate as the ukulele started, but Mark and Dark turned on Marvin with a new urgency.

“Fine,” he said, if only because he knew it was too late to matter anymore. He pressed a hand to his cat mask and his left eye suddenly took on a green gleam, the same gleam that appeared in the left eye of the cat pin he gave you at the start of the masquerade.

Recuérdame, si en tu mente vivo estoy

Recuérdame, mis suenos yo te doy

After a moment that seemed to last an eternity he said, “They’re outside, on the balcony. Looking at the stars I think.”

Te llevo en mi corazón y te acompañeré

Mark turned and immediately started to run toward the glass doors, ready to force his way past friends holding each other and singing along to the upbeat, bouncing music.

Dark muttered something under his breath and ran after him, catching his arm before he could waste any more time. With a surge of his aura they disappeared into the darkness, only to reappear at the glass doors on the other side of the room.

Mark stumbled to regain his balance and together they thrust open the double doors and ran out onto the balcony just as the District Attorney jumped and turned around at the sound, their hand still holding the tie that now hung loose around their neck. For just a moment, as the music suddenly fell away behind them and as the clock struck midnight, the District Attorney locked eyes with both of them and gave them a soft, sad smile.

Remember me, for I will soon be gone

And with that, the spell ended. The District Attorney blinked and it was you who opened your eyes, who found yourself standing on the balcony, who came to just in time to see Mark and Dark both staring at you as they realized what just happened, neither one able to hide their identical reactions of relief.

And disappointment.

---

“Come in,” Dark called when he heard the knock at his office door. Too late he remembered that most of the egos were still sleeping off staying behind to clean up on top of last night’s party and the only ones who would have the energy to be up and moving around wouldn’t have bothered with knocking.

“I just want to talk,” Mark said when Dark’s aura flared around him. It could have been the effort of keeping it in check for so long last night, but Mark didn’t think that was the only reason Dark’s aura seemed darker and more…active than usual. Even as he waved Mark in and sat back in his chair, an afterimage snarled in his direction over the sound of creaking and twisting wood.

At least, until Mark asked, “Have you seen them? Since…”

Dark’s aura froze and contracted until it could barely be seen, its sudden disappearance more unnerving than its presence as Dark answered without emotion, “No, I have not. They must still be with the Septics.”

After they found you on the balcony last night, after they realized that the District Attorney was gone again without a word, neither Mark nor Dark could bring themselves to say anything. While the music slowed and the song came to an end, the three of you just stared at each other, the silence saying more than any of you could or wanted to.

Until the noise from inside caught up with you. Voices calling for Mark were just background noise until Amy poked her head out and told him he needed to get on stage and help Jack wrap up the evening. Reluctantly, or perhaps not too reluctantly, Mark allowed himself to be pulled away. Dark had no time to recover or say anything before you brushed past him, pressing the green tie into his chest like you didn’t even want to look at it anymore on your way to where Marvin was waiting with the Host.

Without waiting for an explanation, the magician pulled you into a hug and you both disappeared. The rest of the Septic egos soon followed once the party was officially over, with most of the Iplier egos assuming you had just decided to spend the night with them.

“I wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t want to come back,” Mark said now, his face clouded as he sank into the chair opposite Dark’s desk. “How much…how much do you think they remember from last night?”

“We could go over there right now and get them, we could force the magician to—” Dark stopped, his eyes lingering on the green tie lying on his desk next to the sun mask the District Attorney had left with him. To do what, exactly?

“We can’t force them to come back here,” Mark said. “We should…”

He trailed off, aware that he was about to suggest the exact same thing the Host had about the DA: Give them some space, let them decide when and if they want to come back.

Mark and Dark sat in silence for over a minute, both wrapped up in their own thoughts until Mark finished, “They’ll come back when they’re ready.”

“Or when they’re sick of the Septics,” Dark added, attempting a smile and failing. “Shouldn’t take too long, even if they have a soft spot for that bunch of—”

“Don’t,” Mark said, with enough force to make even Dark pause.

“But if it were true?” you had asked, about the possibility of being the District Attorney’s ego, of being a different person than the one he remembered. Only now, Mark knew it wasn’t you asking. They had wanted to see how he reacted, to make sure you would be okay.

Mark slumped against Dark’s desk, head buried in his arms. “They’re never coming back. We screwed up and now both Y/Ns hate us.”

“Drama queen,” Dark muttered as he pulled his papers out of Mark’s reach, but his aura began to spread again, filling the office with distant creaks and whispers too faint to make out. “Y/N—the one from the mirror is…forgiving.”

He had meant to say more, but at the thought his aura darkened, the whispering growing louder now but still impossible for Mark, at least, to make out the individual words.

“Well, aren’t you two some gloomy Guses!”

Mark sat up quickly and turned to face Wilford if only because the last thing he wanted was to have his back to that maniac. Meanwhile, Dark sighed and said, “Come in, Wilford,” like he hadn’t already barged his way into the office without knocking.

“Why the long faces?” Wilford asked as he took a seat on Dark’s desk, ignoring Dark’s scowl as he rescued his coffee cup and could only watch the pens and papers scatter across the surface. “Oh, let me guess, someone hit the sauce a little too hard last night? I do know a few hangover cures, if you need a little help.”

Mark was baffled by the wink Wilford gave him and said, “We’re not hungover, Wilford. I can’t drink, or I’ll die. Remember?”

“And I’m not even sure if I’m capable of getting drunk,” Dark said, although he had considered the option many times over the years, living with the egos. “We were just talking about Y/N.”

“Say, where is that rascal?” Wilford asked. He picked up the sun mask and held it to his face as he added, “I haven’t seen them since I apologized for that whole dance thing last night.”

“You talked to them last night?” Dark asked, exchanging a look with Mark. “How did they seem to you?”

“Oh, about normal I suppose,” Wilford said. For a second, his eyes appeared pink behind the mask. “Didn’t say much. I apologized, they said they would try to forgive me, turned me down when I asked for a second dance. Have to say, I did miss the other Y/N last night.”

They both stared at him and it was Mark who finally broke and asked, “You knew?”

“Knew what?” Wilford asked as he put the mask down.

“You mentioned you missed the ‘other Y/N’ last night,” Dark said patiently, well aware of how easily Wilford’s mind could jump tracks if allowed. “Did you know that was a…different person than the one who has been living with us?”

“Of course! It was pretty obvious, if you know what I mean,” Wilford said. He paused in taking a long sip from Dark’s coffee when he saw the expressions on their faces and rolled his eyes before explaining like he was talking to children, “That Y/N would have hugged me after I apologized, just like they always do. And don’t even get me started on the dancing!”

“Of course,” Mark muttered.

“Be that as it may, Y/N is…staying over with the Septic egos for now,” Dark said. “We have, apparently, decided to give them some space until they are ready to come back.”

Wilford nodded along at Dark’s words. “Got it. I think I can kill a couple of hours. Hey Mark, my boy, do you want to—"

“No,” Mark answered without even waiting for the rest of that invite. “Wilford, Y/N doesn’t—”

He stopped at the knock on the office door, to which Dark gave a loud sigh at the sight of the two Jims looking in.

“Sure, just come in, let’s see how many people we can stuff in here,” Dark muttered. “And that was a joke Wilford, don’t you dare drag anyone else in here.”

Wilford sat back down on the desk, looking disappointed while Jim leaned toward the other Jim and said, “It’s our lucky day, Jim! They’re all here!”

Dark frowned at the word “all,” and asked, “What do you two want?”

Jim straightened up and said, “We have something for you from Dapper Jim himself!”

Mark stared as the Jim placed a recording device on the desk in between him, Dark, and Wilford. He recognized it from the night before and said, “Wait, are you talking about Jameson? When did he give you this?”

“Our adopted brother from across the pond,” Jim said solemnly as the other Jim nodded. “He gave it to us last night, but we were told to wait until exactly this time in exactly this place to give it to you.”

Dark scowled down at the device. That last part had the Host written all over it, which made him suspicious enough as he pulled off the note taped to it and read aloud, “Play me?”

“If you say so,” Wilford said, already pressing the play button.

“Is this…Yeah, yeah it’s recording.” The voice coming from the device was unmistakable, the recording crisp and clear as the District Attorney said, “I’ve had so much time to think about what I would say if I saw you all again. Mark. Dark. Wil-Wilford. But I never imagined how hard it would be to look you in the eyes and…”

There was a long, shuddering sigh before they continued, “This isn’t the way I planned to do this, but there’s so much I need to say to the three of you while I have the chance. So here goes.”

They paused to take another breath and Dark paused the recording long enough to toss the Jims out of the office and lock the door behind them. Then, once the three of them were alone and unlikely to be interrupted, Mark restarted the recording. And they listened in silence as the District Attorney poured out their heart on a balcony, alone with the stars and their sometimes rambling thoughts. Not all of those thoughts were kind or warm fuzzy memories, and more than a few were bitter and left more than just a sting in their wake. But they were all honest, all past the point of holding back any more.

Until the District Attorney laughed and said, “I sound ridiculous...No wonder I can’t figure out how to say all of this.”

There the recording stopped, leaving Mark, Dark, and Wilford sitting there, staring at the device as though waiting for more.

In the resulting silence, they could hear voices in the hall, including your own hushing the others.

“How was I supposed to know he wasn’t joking about the cat spell?” you asked as you led the way down the hall. “And keep it down, the others—”

You stopped short as the door to Dark’s office shot open and Mark, with the other two right behind him, stared at you.

“S-sorry,” you said, looking away first. Around you the Septic egos moved in just a little closer, Jackieboy Man in particular stepping forward as though to place himself between you and them. “I just needed to pick up some fresh clothes, I didn’t…”

You thought they didn’t want you there, Mark and Dark realized in the same instant. And they wanted nothing more than to show you just how wrong you were about that.

Without bothering with an explanation, all three moved forward and you found yourself being pulled into a tight, desperate hug, their voices mingling and mixing until your cry for help only encouraged the Septic egos to join in, and then more and more of the Iplier egos who had no idea what was going on but weren’t about to pass up an opportunity when they found it outside of their bedroom doors. Struggle as much as you wanted, there was no escaping without acknowledging just how much they all loved you.

Both of you.

“Is it selfish, to ask them to keep taking care of the other me? That Y/N?” The District Attorney asked the device last night as they sat with their back against the stone wall, eyes on the stars but their hand to their chest. “They don’t remember, not everything, and I think that’s…a gift. As much as they’ve been through, they still have hope. They still have it in them to forgive, to risk second chances. I want to protect them, to keep them as far away from the pain I felt. I want them to have their own second chance, at a life that I just…can’t deal with. Not yet. I can’t even begin to tell these people I barely know how much they all mean to the other me, but I think they might have a small idea already. And as broken as I am, as broken as I make them, I don’t want to lose them or the new memories they’re making with all of you. Even when I’m ‘asleep’ inside of them, I can feel you, all of you, and all of the happiness Y/N feels when they’re with you. It helps me feel less broken, day by day.”

The District Attorney laughed and wiped at their eyes before looking for the button to stop the recording. “I sound ridiculous...No wonder I can’t figure out how to say all of this.”

 ((The End. And as always, thank you.

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight  @withjust-a-bite  @blackaquokat  @catgirlwarrior  @neverisadork  @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy  @purpstraw @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl  @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead  @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette  @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate ))

[ashesofangst]

May I request some Marvelsepticeye? What about Jackie getting kidnapped by Anti? At first, Jackie is mostly okay with it as long as no one else gets hurt, but a certain magician makes a surprise visit. Jackie can be let go, but Marvin will have take his place.

Finished just in time for Jackie’s birthday.

Kidnapped

Trigger Warning: Implied Kidnapping; Character Death; Knives; Blood; Bruises; Carving into flesh; Cuts

Pairing(s): Marvelsepticeye (Jackie x Marvin)

Characters: Anti, Jackie, and Marvin

Summary: Above ⬆️

7/10/21

__

Anti pushed Jackie into the basement, the hero's body making it to the bottom with a loud thump. "Aww isn't this just fun, you and me in this dark and desolate place." The demon began to walk down the stairs. "Just us, away from any doctors, any dads, any puppets, and especially away from any magicians," He grinned with a sick a look in his eyes. "Though, I don't think I'd mind bringing Marvin here and hurting him instead." He chuckled before looking down at the hero.

Jackie coughed up a bit of his own blood, looking up at his kidnapper as he tried get back up. He had enough of this. "Fuck you," He yelled at the glitch. Unfortunate for the hero, his only reply was a kick in the face. The red-and-blue-colored ego groaned before he was rudely lifted to his feet only to be thrown at a wall.

More blood came out of him through his coughs, beginning to lose too much of it. He needed to surrender, even if he didn't want to. He glared at Anti and would of yelled some more but stopped.

"Ah finally! You learned to be quiet like a good dog," The demon joked, which earned a growl from Jackie. "Anyway, I thought about playing a little game with you."

Anti then pressed his foot against Jackie's throat, pulling out his knife. The hero immediately shook his head and tried to say no, but he couldn't due to the foot. "Ah I thought you wouldn't mind," He said with a dark chuckle. He let go of Jackie and pinned him against the floor.

"You know, this be fun- For me, not so much for you." Anti held Jackie still and ripped off part of the hero's shirt sleeve. He slowly plunged the knife into Jackie's arm.

The hero screamed and struggled to escape the glitch's grasp. "Let go of me," He yelled at the top of his lungs. He knew no one would hear him nor be there to help him. Maybe going after the glitch alone wasn't a good idea.

Anti didn't listen as he started to write something into the ego's flesh, not caring how much the hero ego begged for him to stop. Eventually, he finished carving "ANTI" in his arm, blood beginning to spill out of the wound. "Ah there we go. Now people will know I was the one who hurt you," He expressed as he chuckled darkly.

Jackie glanced at the carving and grimaced. He didn't like this, and he certainly didn't want that carved into his arm. He looked at Anti as tried pushing the ego away.

The attempt failed, and his head was slammed against the floor as punishment. He groaned, eyes closing as they held onto every ounce of life. Oh what he could give to go back and ask someone for help.

His thoughts were interrupted when something cut his cheek open, blood beginning to pool out of his cheek. He winced, trying to get free once again. "Please.... Anti, let me go...."

The glitch shook his head, tightly gripping onto the hero's arm. "No. I'm not going until you have a mark for every person you couldn't save," He planned out loud. "And I know that's a long list." He let go of the others' arm, a bruise beginning to form.

Anti was about to stab Jackie with his knife when he heard the sound of a door opening upstairs. "Jackie? Are you here," a voice that only belonged to the magician called out. "I got your text, where are you?"

The demon worse a sinister grin and covered the hero's mouth; He made sure to keep Jackie's lips closed, so he couldn't scream. "Seems our guest is here. Now be quiet, I don't want you to spoil the surprise," He demanded.

After a few minutes of Marvin looking around- which felt like hours to Jackie- the footsteps stopped at the entrance. Slowly, the cat-masked man headed downstairs.

Jackie kept squirming and even tried to bite his kidnapper's hand. All attempts to escape were useless now, and he knew, but he could at least warn his boyfriend.

Marvin's feet reached to middle of the staircase and peaked his head underneath. Upon seeing Anti and Jackie scared up, he went to do a spell. He only made it to the second work when Anti pinned him against the stairs.

Marvin looked at the glitch, fear in eyes as Anti knelt down to him. "Here's how it's going to be, furry boy. Either Deadpool ripoff dies or you stay here and take his place as he goes free," He told the other. "Your choice."

Jackie looked at Marvin and shook his head immediately. "Don't.... Don't trust him!" Anti was a liar and never gives anyone a choice in anything. Jackie may be dumb, but even he knew that.

"Shut up! His decision, not yours! Now, shh," The demon demanded. He stared back at Marvin, who seemed to be scared for not only his safety but Jackie's as well. He wanted them both to get out.

"Jackie.... I chose for Jackie to go, I can stay here for him," Marvin chose. He wasn't letting Jackie die here; Not now, not ever.

Anti slowly got off of Marvin. "Alright.... One thing I need to do really quick," The glitch stated as he grabbed his favored knife. Slowly, he approached Jackie.

Jackie tried to get away, but you can only do so much blood loss. Soon, Anti had him and pulled him to his feet. "Oh you're already dying. No need to stab you now." The glitch dropped him. "I change my mind, get out before I come back." He teleported away, not wanting to kill Jackie now. He had his fun and revenge.

Marvin headed to his boyfriend, crouching and pulling his lover into his lap. "Oh my god, Jackie.... I can fix this, I know healing spells, just hold still," The macian told his boyfriend. He went to say a spell, but Jackie interrupted him.

"No.... Get out of here and.... And warn the others.... They need to know," The superhero told the other. "You don't.... You don't need to waste your magic." He chuckled before coughing. He didn't need saving, even if he was dying. “I love you.”

“I-I love you but I….” Marvin shook his head and begin to do the spell again, but it seemed he was too late. The hero gave him final breath, and the magician weeped. __ Lol Jackie dead

[inkribbon796]

Lost Pages Ch. 2: Black and Blue

Summary: The heroes face down the two thieves and are in for a tough fight than they thought.

Chapters: 1, 2

Yan gripped onto Dark’s arm and in an instant the Entity took both Yan and herself through a portal to safety and the heroes didn’t see either of them for the rest of the day.

They left the heroes alone with the two thieves.

“Skeppy,” the taller of the two assailants pulled the crossbow up, a slight disapproving whine in his voice made the name almost sound like “S~Geppy” and was shouldered out of the way. “You muffinhead, don’t shoot them.”

“Let’s talk this over,” Silver started floating a bit as Chase backpedaled to stand with the others, immediately handing the book over to Marvin who slipped it into his cloak.

“Hey,” the taller one waved as he stepped back in front of his friend. “We can talk, it’s alright.”

Skeppy glared at his companion.

“Hello, my name is Bad,” the taller assailant gestured to himself and took another step, and the heroes realized that his height hadn’t been exaggerated. The taller cloaked figure stood at almost seven feet tall and towered over them. Marvin could see the magic keeping his hood in shadow. “This is my friend, Skeppy, and you have something that actually belongs to me and my friends and we need it back.”

“Which is why yah[1] wanted ta[2] steal it,” Marvin reminded, with the book stored away in his cloak he brought his hands up to brace and start throwing spells.

“Look we tried but they stole it from us first and wouldn’t let us have them back,” Bad said, his voice much softer and not nearly as deep as Silver would have ever expected from the assailant. “Those books belong to us and we don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Give us the book and we don’t have to fight anyone,” Skeppy ordered, his crossbow still in his hand, but it wasn’t pointed at anyone . . . at the moment, at least.

“We’re not givin’ yeh an evil fookin’ book,”[3] Marvin spat.

Bad gasped, “Language!”

“Not the time, Bad,” Skeppy spat, not taking his eyes off Marvin. “We’re not going to stand here and keep asking nicely. You are giving us that book. It belongs to us.”

“How about instead yeh give us the other four yeh’ve got, an’ we just call it a day,”[4] Marvin hissed.

“Okay, stop,” Jackie tried to step in and take over the conversation.

“No, give us the book,” Skeppy’s skin began to slowly turn blue as it took on an almost crystallized appearance. “Last warning.”

“Fook[5] off!” Marvin shouted and Skeppy summoned a shield made of metal and the front was coated with the same type of material quickly covering his skin.

The next thing to happen was something shot through the air, no one was sure who had fired first, but Skeppy and Marvin quickly responded with a crossbow bolt and a bolt of magic at each other in kind. Skeppy never physically reloaded bolts but they magically appeared in the crossbow all the same.

Jackie and Marvin were able to deflect the bolts with little trouble, but one of Marvin’s magical shots managed to slip past Skeppy’s shield and hit him directly.

“Skeppy! No!” Bad called out in horror. Before his eyes began to glow red. “How dare you hurt Skeppy!”

A pair of black bat wings sprouted from his back and his form shifted to having black hair and horns with a glowing halo hovering over his head, then he was suddenly glowing in size until he was twenty feet tall and he slammed his fists on the concrete. “Get away from Skeppy!” Bad yelled, his voice booming out before he swiped the heroes away from Skeppy to scoop him up into his hands. “Get away from him!”

“Skeppy?” Bad frowned with worry, as Skeppy pulled himself into a kneeling position, propping his arm up on Bad’s thumb. Skeppy’s blue crystalline skin was starting to knit together again. “Are you okay?”

“We need that book,” Skeppy pointed at Chase.

“But you’re hu—” Bad reminded gently.

“Get that book!” Skeppy ordered, shouting at the top of his lungs.

Bad flinched before moving his hand so Skeppy could jump onto the hood of his cloak before sliding down. As his feet hit the ground a blue sword appeared in his hand as he looked at Chase. “Hand over the book, before this has to get ugly.”

“Now!” Bad roared.

“That’s a demon,” Marvin realized, looking up at the giant, bracing himself with more magic. “I think they both are.”

“How many demons are e’en[6] in this fookin’[7] city?” Jackie spat.

A shrill whistle pierced the air and in the distance and the two assailants stopped to look at a nearby building as a figure in a long green cloak and a smiling white mask stared at them.

“We’re not done,” Skeppy told the masked man, who jumped down and at almost the last moment a swirl of water helped slow his fall enough for him to land safely. Then he started walking towards Skeppy.

“Need your help,” the masked man told Skeppy, looking over in the heroes’ direction. “Come on, you guys can pick this up later. It’s not like these guys are going to actually destroy it.”

Skeppy glared at the heroes, mentally weighing his options as Bad shrunk back down to the height he’d been at before. He pulled back up his head and his face became magically obscured.

“You sure?” Skeppy demanded. “They were talking about burning it earlier with Dark.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” the masked man chuckled, he was looking at Marvin, and the magician could feel it. “Curiosity got the cat, and all.”

“Skep?” Bad asked hesitantly, as Skeppy kept glaring at the heroes.

Skeppy took a deep breath and smiled, “You’re right, it’s not going anywhere, we have all the time in the world. Come on, Bad.”

“Oh, uh, okay,” Bad tripped over his words a bit.

“We’re not done here,” Marvin spat, taking a step forward.

“No,” the masked man hummed as he pulled out a small orb of swirling dark green magic. Skeppy and Bad copying him. “I think we are. We’ll have this chat another day.”

The three of them turned to throw the orbs up behind them. They raced unnaturally high before smashing on the rooftop like fragile glass. When they shattered, it was like three great eyes opened right where they stood and then closed. It lasted a second, and the three newcomers were standing on the rooftop and racing away at full speed to head towards Gainesville. They used more orbs to get away from Jackie and Silver who were trying to pursue them, and in the chase the three assailants disappeared into the busy streets of Gainesville.

Silver and Jackie were forced to regroup with Marvin and Chase, both of whom stayed on guard for an attack.

“Yeh find ‘em?”[8] Marvin demanded.

“No, I think they used some kind ‘a[9] invisibility spell an’[10] disappeared in Gainesville,” Jackie shook his head. “I’ve already called the Sides an’[10] Logic promised they’d look inta[11] it.”

Marvin didn’t look happy.

“We should just head back ta the base so yeh can put that thing in a cage or somethin’,”[12] Chase told Marvin. “We’ll find King later.”

“Yeah, fine,” Marvin agreed and they headed back to the base where they met up with King and Lunky who were being sent through one of Dark’s portals.

Kay looked at them as he rushed in with them, Lunky holding onto his head, “The Old Man said you had something for me?”

“Ancient demon cult book,” Chase told him, Marvin held the book out for King once they were all safe inside and the door was closed. “We were attacked by the cult’s junior brigade.”

“Alright,” King commented as Bing and Mini walked in. Lunky saw Mini and immediately detached from King to turn fully 3D and instantly raced over to grab onto their friend.

“Play date?” Bing asked with a smile.

“Thanks Bing,” King told him before he led the group to his room. Bing took Lunky and Mini back to his office. When the heroes got to King’s room, the young man took everything off the desk and started cleaning and sterilizing everything before he took off his cloak and crown and switched his glasses. His magic moved and whirling around him as he tried to protect the air around the book. Then he put on a pair of gloves. “Looks old.”

“Didn’t ask fer[13] the carbon date,” Marvin told him, shooting a look at Chase. “Was a bit too busy tryin’ ta get this thin’ ta an actual safe location.”[14]

King flipped through the book for a couple seconds before he paused with a look of confusion on his face.

“Hold up,” King pulled off a glove and moved to look for something in his desk and pulled out some notes. And pulled out some loose pages of paper with some symbols and his writing. King looked between the pages and the book and then grabbed his phone. The heroes were close enough to see him type out a message to Illinois: “Clear your schedule, Phills. Tomorrow @ 5.”

“You said this was from a demon cult?” King was flipping through the book carefully with his still gloved hand.

“How bad is it?” Silver asked.

“That depends on who’s got this book memorized,” King told him.

“It’s apparently part ‘a[9] collection ‘a[9] five,” Chase reported.

King grabbed his phone again and typed: “Blackbird” while Illinois was trying to send a response. He stopped and instead the adventure sent: “You don’t need me now?” and “0500 or 1700”.

“That was quick,” King thought out loud, scoffing at some joke in his head. Then he typed: “0500, will have information by then. That was fast, was Eric busy?”

“Hey, hermanito,” Illinois responded and sent a picture of his middle finger and King started roaring in laughter and slid his phone away.

“You need Illinois’s help with this?” Silver asked in concern.

King shrugged. “Maybe, I just know the Old Man will tell him about the book and I want to get on top of it before Illinois hounds me.”

Then he gloved up his hand again and turned back to the book and grabbed some blank papers to start making notes. “Alright, what do you guys know about ciphers?”

“They look cool,” Chase answered.

“Can’t you write secret messages with it?” Silver asked.

“Well, yeah,” King agreed as he pulled out a paper with some symbols and images that Nate and Séan had pulled from a cave. “But the problem is that a cipher without a key is harder to solve unless it’s a shift cipher. Nate and Jackie didn’t give me enough to even try and figure out if they were words or names. But with this, I can crack it.”

“Anything you can tell us before you start?” Silver looked at the book. “You going to be okay with it?”

“Book’s evil, but not cursed, if I could get a reminder to grab a coffee and a sandwich in an hour that’d be great,” King smiled and slowly the trio bid him good luck and left. King kept his smile up until they were gone and the door was closed.

Then he grabbed his phone again and called Illinois.

“You clean?” Illinois asked.

“Yes, are you?” King asked, using the signals they’d developed for themselves back when they were both still working for their father.

“Yeah Eric’s in the other room and Dad’s in his office, he’s not even listening in.” Illinois didn’t sound rushed, and he wasn’t using any of the warning words or phrases. “What’s going on?”

“You know those cave markings the heroes brought me a while back?” King reminded as he turned to a specific page that he was the most worried by.

“Which ones, the ones I found, or the ones they found?” Illinois asked.

“The ones not from Brazil,” King answered. “But they’re probably connected. Demon cults don’t just sprout up out of nowhere. But it would be great if we could keep this from Dad as much as possible.”

“Why?”

King squinted at the book. “Because, if I’m reading the scant . . . English, I think that’s English, right then they were experimenting on and sacrificing children to some type of demon they worshipped as a god. Just, you know Dad. He’d probably try to adopt one of them and helping them is good and fine but I’ve got a kid and my brain can only take so many new people right now so just make sure we don’t get a new brother or something out of this.”

“Alright, I can do that,” Illinois chuckled. “Maybe we can set Yan up with a date or something.”

“Yeah, or something,” King agreed, and he was about to disconnect when Illinois quickly asked something.

“Hey, while I have you here, do you know if the heroes have gotten into a huge fight with Dad or something?” Illinois questioned.

“Not that I know of,” King answered.

“Okay, and it’s not the hunters or Phantom either,” Illinois hummed, clearly thinking out loud. “Dad’s aura’s been acting weird, I’ve never seen it do something like this before and he hasn’t really gotten into any big fights since we cleared up that mess with the Suits.”

“Well, weird how?” King asked. “Did you talk to him? He usually tells you stuff, not me.”

“Oh, I tried, but you know how he is,” Illinois grumbled. “I asked him what was wrong and he turned into Mom and the problem was less obvious. She knows something’s up and is just hiding it. As for what he’s doing, his aura is just curling around him weird, usually it’s acting like a second suit or just doing the blue and red ringing thing but it’s turning a dark grey now.”

“I’ll try and help but I don’t know what I can do,” King admitted.

“When you come over with the info we’ll talk,” Illinois told him. “Hey, boss is back, gotta go.”

Then he was gone and King frowned at the phone before turning back to the book to compile as much information as possible before he needed to go check on Lunky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Post A/N: For those new to the SMP, Badboyhalo was only one train of thought and it’s “Skeppy” and I’m so glad that’s not hyperbole in the slightest because it is as cute as it is hilarious.

Accessibility Translations:

1. you

2. to

3. We’re not giving you an evil fucking book

4. How about instead you give us the other four you’ve got, and we just call it a day

5. Fuck

6. even

7. fucking

8. You find them?

9. of

10. and

11. into

12. We should just head back to the base so you can put that thing in a cage or something

13. for

14. Was a bit too busy trying to get this thing to an actual safe location.

[bathtubjohnny]

Chapter 1: Rough draft (Edited once for spelling/grammar)

TW: Bloody noses, descriptions of a corpse, mild gore and swearing, spooky zombie lady, bad formatting, rushed writing

Note: Please give me your sweet sweet feedback. Oh how I crave honest and good-hearted criticism.

*Thanks to a handful of members from a group chat for convincing me to post this*

The forest was dense enough to blot out the sun, almost completely plunging the path in darkness. It didn’t bother Sydney though; he was too focused on the building at the end of it. It was a church, and he stood in front of it, staring up at the grey steeple protruding from what was left of the roof. It was a miracle that it was still standing. The walls had been scorched by fire, and the once-beautiful stained glass windows had melted into colourful, wax-like puddles. He could still smell smoke even though the church burned an impossibly long time ago. It never occurred to Sydney that the surrounding woods were completely untouched by the fire, as if it had never happened in the first place.

The inside was different as Sydney pushed the double doors open. He didn’t recognize the inside. It was more spacious than what he remembered, but like the forest, untouched by the blaze. Instead of red carpeting there was a wooden floor; instead of oil paintings depicting the trial of Jesus, tapestries with horrific, indescribable images decorated the walls. The interior had an ancient feel to it, making Sydney feel insignificant as he stood before the rows of pews. He could tell that it wasn’t a Catholic church anymore. It was a haven for a religion that existed long before the concept of Christianity.

Across from Sydney and past the pews was a stone table where the altar should have been. There was a white sheet covering something laying across it. As he padded down the aisle towards it, he could see symbols etched into the stone, characters he couldn’t recognize. The closer he got the louder his ears rang, his sinuses becoming so congested that soon fluid began leaking down his chin. It wasn’t until he reached the table and saw the bright red droplets fall onto the stark white sheet covering it that he realized his nose was bleeding.

Ignoring his instinct to wipe away the blood, Sydney reached for the edge of the sheet and pulled it back. Underneath was a girl, or at least the body of one. Her skin was ashen and waxy, a greenish-blue in colour. Small blisters had begun to form on her cheeks and forehead, as if she had been sunburnt recently. Even though they were closed, Sydney could tell that her eyes were sunken into her skull.

“Syd?”

Pulling the sheet down further, Sydney saw that the girl’s arms had been placed palms facing up, leaving the undersides of her forearms exposed. On both of them were deep gashes, starting from her wrists and ending in the crooks of her elbows. The rest of her had begun to decay, but her wounds appeared recent, oozing thicker, darker blood than what was dripping from Sydney’s nose.

“Syd, are you awake?”

The sound of her inhaling made Sydney’s attention turn sharply back to her face as her jaw creaked open, sucking in air. He stumbled away as her eyes, covered in a watery blue film, flew open. Her head turned towards him with a snap, sending him falling backwards in shock. He hit the floor hard as she sat up, bones creaking and popping as she threw the sheet off her bloated body-

“Mr.Patrick!”

Sydney bolted up from his desk as the shout tore through his dream, nearly sending him toppling to the floor. Mrs. Bray was sitting on her desk glaring directly at Sydney, arms folded. A snort of laughter to his left made him blush as he realized he’d dozed off...again. “Uh, sorry.” He mumbled, slowly sitting back down and trying to ignore the eyes on him. Although Mrs. Bray had a stern look in her eyes, Syd was somewhat comforted by the fact that she was obviously trying not to smile.

“I get that there’s ten minutes left, but let’s try to stay awake, alright?” She sighed. “To those of you who may have dozed off, I’m not repeating myself about the assignment. You can ask your group. Now,” She side-eyed the room. ‘Is there anyone who isn’t in a group of three yet?”

Syd sneaked a quick glance across the room over at his close friend Lizzie Abrams. She caught his eye and shrugged apologetically, motioning to two other girls sitting near her. Feeling his cheeks heat up, Syd averted his eyes, staring down at his desk in embarrassment.

“We don’t have a third person in our group.” The voice to Syd’s left spoke up, making him turn. It was a girl in a worn, blue and white baseball cap, someone who Sydney unfortunately recognized. Her name was Morette Woodward, better known as Mo, and Syd knew her as being the one who broke his nose during dodgeball back in fifth grade.

She had one elbow propped up on her desk and was leaning her head against her hand while picking at her braces with the other. When she caught Sydney’s eye, she flashed him a toothy smirk.

Mrs. Bray glanced between the two and shrugged. “Perfect, evens out the groups. Now,” she turned to address the rest of the class. “I’m giving the last couple minutes of class to organize your chapters, so use your time wisely. Remember your book and your portfolio should be in at least six sections!”

Portfolio? Sydney rubbed his eyes and groaned, wondering what else he’d missed. Falling asleep at random times wasn’t a problem before, but lately he'd been feeling lethargic and finding himself unable to keep his eyes open for long periods of time.

“Hey, scooch your butt over next to us so we can talk better.” Mo nodded at a tall boy sitting beside her. Sydney didn’t know who it was, but thought he looked familiar. “Yeah hold on,” he turned his chair to face them before leaning forward. “So… what’re we doing exactly?”

“Man, you were really out, huh?” The tall boy said, giving Sydney a sympathetic grin. “You were pretty twitchy too. Were you dreaming or something?”

Syd blinked. “‘Twitchy’? What do you mean?”

“Like...mumbling and tensing up a lot,” He clenched his fists in emphasis. “It was kinda creepy. What were you dreaming about?” He was already talking again before Syd could reply. “Oh shit, you don’t know me. Sorry, I’m Henry Kaminer.”

Kaminer. Sydney didn’t know Henry, but definitely recognized the last name. He remembered reading about the Kaminers in the newspaper, and made a mental note not to bring it up.

“Oh. I’m Sydney. I don’t really remember what I dreamed of.” Sydney lied. Henry laughed. “Yeah, I heard. Isn't Sydney a girl's...? Whatever, nice to meet you Sydney."

Morette handed Sydney a sheet of paper. “I had an uncle Sid so no, it's not 'a girl's name'. Anyway, literally all we have to do is split the book up to read for a week, then do some fun little questions and activities at the end of each week." She flipped through her copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. "It's like the same stuff we did in grade 5, but with racism."

So she does remember. Sydney looked over his sheet of paper. "Oh."

"Yeah, it'll be easy." Morette leaned back in her chair and scrunched her nose up. "There's 31 chapters, but they're not too long. Let's just do five chapters each week and read whatever's left when we get to the last week." She tossed a stack of pink sticky notes at Sydney. "Use those as a bookmark."

Sydney looked down at the sticky notes. “...Thanks.”

___

“Hey Syd!”

Sydney paused at the front doors of the school just as he was about to walk through them. Henry hurried over to him, lime green beanie clutched in one hand, messenger bag in the other. The tall boy stopped beside him, huffing. “Man, I jumped down the stairs to catch up to you. Sorry, anyway. Walking home?”

Sydney pushed open the doors, nodding. “Yep. What about you?”

“Same here, but uh...which way are you going?”

“To the left.”

“Sweet! Mind if I tag along?”

“Sure,” As they made their way past groups of students waiting for their buses, they started walking down the sidewalk towards the nearby neighbourhoods. Syd, who barely made it to Henry’s elbows, couldn’t help but feel self-conscious with the giant beside him. “Do you live close to the school?” He asked. Henry shrugged. “Well, not really. To be honest I’m just tagging along to avoid my older brother, Marvin.” He chuckled a bit, but it sounded forced. “He’s got his driver’s licence and all, but…”

“But what?” Syd asked. Henry sighed. “He’s an asshole. I don’t feel like dealing with his anger issues today. So I’m here with you instead, little man. If that’s cool with you,”

“I’m not that little! But yeah, it’s cool.”

“Yeah you are, shortstack!!” Henry guffawed and rubbed the top of Sydney’s head with one hand. Syd swatted at his arm, but joined in the laughter. The two boys continued talking and joking around as they continued trekking down the street towards a crosswalk. The weather was warm for being early September, the sun beaming down on them helping to keep Sydney in high spirits.

The first week of school had been rough for him; being as timid as he was, making friends was hard enough in elementary school, never mind being in a new environment. For the longest time he’d considered Lizzie to be his closest friend, but they’d drifted apart over the summer, making him feel even more isolated than ever. As he listened to Henry telling him about his pet cat, Bowie, he felt a ray of hope that maybe he wouldn’t have to be so lonely after all.

“...he’s a really sweet boy, but he’s pretty ugly,” Henry was telling Syd. “He’s got this weird skin condition though so there’s like almost no hair on his body. I think it’s kinda hilarious, but every time he sits down his butthole sticks to our table.”

Syd snorted. “Gross.” He stopped at the edge of the crosswalk as the traffic light turned red, Henry following suit. “I don’t have any pets. My mom’s allergic to animal hair. It makes her sneeze.”

“Damn. No siblings either? Sounds quiet.” Henry leaned against a pole covered in colourful flyers and shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand. Sydney took a couple steps back so he was standing in Henry’s shadow and decided that tall people weren’t that bad. “Hey,” he said. “My house is just up ahead, what about you?”

Henry shrugged and shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets. “Not me little man, I’m heading to the right but maybe I can come over and wreak havoc at your place sometime.” He flashed Sydney a grin and straightened up, a couple flyers sticking to him before fluttering to the ground. “Whoops, those seemed important.”

Syd rolled his eyes and laughed as Henry stooped down to scoop them off the sidewalk. “Nice going there, big guy.” He joked. “Careful you don’t bring the pole down too.” Henry didn’t respond; instead he slowly stood up, clutching a white flyer and staring down at it. Sydney felt his smile fade when he saw the dismayed expression on Henry’s face.

“...What is it?”

Henry swallowed hard before handing Sydney the poster. The white paper was crumpled and soft from being left outside, showing signs that it had been there a while. A photo of a man with a goofy grin and a buzzcut holding a balding cat was in the center. The words were in bright red at the top of the page as he read them.

MISSING PERSON

Jeremiah Lee Kaminer

Also goes by ‘Jerry’

19 years old, blue eyes, blonde, slim build, 6’0”

Last seen November 27th wearing a leather jacket, blue jeans, and brown hiking boots. If you have seen him or have any information of his whereabouts, please contact the Denville City Police.

“Henry,” Sydney glanced up from the page. Henry was fidgeting in place, avoiding making eye contact. “Is he...?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, staring at the ground. “It’s our oldest brother. He’s been missing for over a year. Went into a bar one night for a drink, and just…. Never came out.” A cold gust of wind sent the remaining flyers drifting down the sidewalk as they caught the breeze. Henry’s hands tightened around the poster, creasing the paper before he folded it into a square. “Whatever. I gotta go.” He turned and started heading down the street, leaving Sydney alone.

Syd watched him walk away, wondering whether he should call out or not. Deciding not to, Sydney went home, ignoring the icy loneliness that had begun to creep back.

[breakingsomething]

‘tell me a secret’ with luchase perhaps ??? perhaps a morsel of luchase content?? -ethan

evenings in brighton were never this warm, especially not so late in the year. tonight appeared to be the exception. the sky was a bright orange with tinges of dark red on the horizon, signaling the end of the daylight, the end of a day that chase hadn't expected to go so well. he leaned against his elbow on the fence and sighed softly, watching the sun go down.

maybe the night wasn't even really warm. maybe it was just him. maybe… maybe chase just hadn't felt this kind of happiness in a long time. the presence of lucas beside him was strangely comforting. without thinking, chase slowly timed his breathing with his, both of them in time.

someone inside the house shouted gleefully, laughter leaking out the open window. most likely connor and louise, who were being looked after by marvin and henrik while chase had a smoke outside. only, he wasn't really smoking. he didn't think lucas was either. they were just reveling in each other's company, arms brushing gently through their sleeves.

"today was fun," lucas said softly, breaking the silence. chase blinked, feeling like he'd awoken from a sleep. the other man smiled, tapping the top of the fence with his nails. "seriously, i - your kids are really sweet."

chase chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "they are. i think they like you, even louise, and she normally doesn't like strangers. you're… really good with kids."

lucas hummed softly, glancing back out across the garden to the flats across the street. "yeah. my brother has kids, three girls, and another one on the way. i babysit them sometimes. connor and louise would like them, i think."

chase's eyes lit up. "oh, that's so sweet! maybe they could meet for a playdate or something sometime. how old are they?"

"five, seven, and twelve," lucas recited. he flicked the end of his barely touched cigarette, smiling down at the ground. "me and my brother, uh - we weren't on good terms for a while, so i didn't see them for a long time. we're - we're ok now though, so i get to see them a lot. making up for lost time, you know."

"oh." chase wasn't sure what to say to that. he shivered in a sudden gust of cold, popping his lips awkwardly. "well, that's… it's good that you're talking now."

lucas nodded again. "it is. it is."

they stood in silence for a little bit; or as silent as this part of brighton could get. someone yelled out of their window across the road. a car rolled down to the end of the street, flashing its headlights. a children's show theme tune blasted faintly inside the house.

"tell me a secret," lucas said suddenly. chase blinked, lips parting slightly in surprise.

"a - what?" chase asked, confused.

"tell me," lucas repeated. "a secret. just any secret. something dumb."

chase opened his mouth, but no words came out. a secret - did lucas know? did he know - no, chase didn't want to think about that. he racked his mind desperately, searching for something to say and coming up with nothing.

lucas seemed to notice his struggle. "you don't have to say anything," he said quickly, nudging chase gently. "i was just trying to think of a conversation starter or - or something. it was stupid, i -"

"no, no," chase interrupted. "i can think of something."

he bit his lip, staring off into the garden, then suddenly laughed, turning back to lucas. "ok, i got a good one," he grinned. "when i was a kid, i was genuinely convinced i was a wizard. like, the proper harry potter type. i really - i really, really liked harry potter." he shook his head, feeling his face get warmer. "i learned a bunch of spells and shit too. i was heartbroken when i turned eleven and didn't get my letter. my friends at school convinced me it must have been late. and hey, maybe it is. maybe next year i'll get my magic owl and go to… to magic school."

he and lucas cracked up at the ridiculousness of it. "oh my gosh," lucas managed when he could catch a breath. "oh my gosh, i was like that as a kid as well, no joke. my mom, she threw me a harry potter themed birthday party when i turned eleven, and she tied a piece of paper to my cat with my "letter" attached. the only reason i realized was because i looked at it and went "hey, mcgonagall's handwriting looks a lot like santa's!""

the two of them absolutely lost it at that, tears forming in chase's eyes which he wiped away, shaking. "oh my god, that's completely fantastic," chase giggled, rubbing his face with his hoodie sleeve. "i - oh fudge, i cannot believe that. what did she say?"

lucas took a moment to collect himself. "my dad had to break the news. i think i cried for like an hour."

chase was laughing so hard he started coughing into his sleeve, leaning over the fence with the force of it. lucas pat his back, giggling. "don't die on me, chase, please. you'll never get your owl if you're dead."

chase managed to sit up and flip him off, face hot and eyes watering. lucas grinned at him, his giggles subsiding. he didn't move his hand from chase's back. chase didn't dare move.

the sun had gone down almost entirely now. they were both very quiet, both a little too close. shoulders touching. chase could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

the front door clicked open, light spilling across the front garden. "chase?" came marvin's voice, and he jumped almost guiltily, like he'd been caught doing something wrong. he quickly pulled away from lucas, whipping round with wide eyes. marvin's lips parted, and he stepped back. "oh, i - sorry, sorry. i was just gonna tell you that it's seven o'clock and louise and connor wanted you to come see their lego house." he tugged at his shirt sheepishly. "i'll, uh, i can say you'll be in in a bit?"

chase shook his head, face burning with embarrassment. "nah, i'm coming in," he said quickly, laughing nervously. he turned back to lucas. "uh, are you coming?"

"i - think i better be going," lucas said with a forced smile. "thank you, though. today was actually really good."

chase noticed that marvin had slipped back inside, leaving them alone. he took a sharp breath. "ok. i'm glad you, uh, had a good time." his smile widened genuinely. "maybe we can do something like this again sometime."

"maybe so." lucas hesitated, like he was going to say something, then shook it off. "i'll text you tonight?"

chase nodded wordlessly. lucas paused before gently punching chase's shoulder affectionately. "see you."

chase watched him go with a dopey grin. he hadn't even realized, but the cigarette in his hand was still glowing softly.

[reverseblackholeofwords]

Uh what?? Is Chase not affected by the spells??

As Marvin appears, his hands glowing a vibrant purple, the red-eyed demon’s form is finally illuminated.

It’s Marvin, in a blue t-shirt, a badly decorated cat mask, and a stupid cape. His eyes glow like rubies behind the mask, and he looks at Marvin with nothing but contempt and hatred.

Marvin hesitates, and his hands flicker.

“What’s wrong?” the demon asks. “This is who you are on the inside. A joke, a stupid joke.” He laughs and peels off the mask from his face. It’s just Jack underneath, not Marvin at all, Chase can see that as plain as day, but Marvin doesn’t seem to realize that. He doesn’t see that this was never really him at all. “The only thing that made you special was this mask.” He drops it on the floor and smashes it under his heel. “And you’ve tried so hard to distance yourself from me, to change yourself so that you wouldn’t have to remember how pointless your existence is.”

He walks up to Marvin and smiles. “Still wearing the mask, though, I see.” He turns back to Chase who is still clinging tightly to Marvin’s sizzling anger. “Do you think you can hug me and make me go away? How about it, Pops? You want to try?”

He spreads out his arms as if he’s inviting Chase to hug him, but the father shakes his head. “You’re not my brother. You’re just a delusion. Hate usually is.”

The little Marvin whispers, “Ten.” And Chase feels him disappear as an orange flash brightens the room like daylight.

Marvin’s eyes sizzle, and his hands turn to claws. “How dare you try to hurt my brother.”

“No, no,” the demons says, raising his hands as if to defuse the situation even though the smile on his face shows just how much he’s enjoying this. “Chase and I are old friends. He’s always known exactly who you are. That’s why you hate him.”

“I don’t...” Marvin fumbles for words, the anger in his eyes fading, replaced by blue fear. “No, I don’t hate him.”

The copy shrugs. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you still know the truth. And now he does, too.” He looks down at Chase again. “Right? You said it yourself, Chase, Marvin can’t lie to you.”

Chase meets Marvin’s eyes, his Marvin, looking so terrified and unsure, and the copy is right. Chase does know the truth. He’s been denying it for so long, trying to make Marvin love him, trying to show him that he’s not what he thinks he is. He’s not just Jack with a mask on. But Marvin has never been able to see that. He’s always had to prove himself, and Chase’s unconditional love? He always resented it.

“Chase, I...” Marvin is crumbling. He wants so badly to find a way to fix this, to make it go away. So much so that he locked pieces of himself away, all to protect them from this. “I’m sorry.”

But Chase just shrugs, barely holding himself up, eyes red and puffy and head pulsing with pain, and he smiles. “You just have to be honest with yourself, Marvin. You have to stop hating these parts of you if you’re ever going to let yourself be happy.” He sways. “I don’t care if you hate me.”

He starts to fall forward, but Marvin pushes his Hatred aside to catch him. “I don’t, Chase. I don’t, not anymore.” He looks back over his shoulder at the red-eyed demon, still with a smile on its face. “You’re right. I was just fooling myself.”

The demon waves. “Until next time.” And he disappears in a flash of red.

[musical-in-theory]

Magnificently Malcontent Pt 9

JJ shoved his hands into his pockets and kept his head down as he made his way toward the abandoned part of town. He didn’t want to attract any unnecessary attention that might tip Anti off about his whereabouts. As he got closer to his and Marvin’s old hideout, JJ made sure to stick closer to the shadows. He only had one shot at this, only one chance to save them all, and he couldn’t afford to give up the element of surprise.

    His breath hitched when the building came into view. It was still hard for JJ to believe that this place which used to house some of his best memories now harbored the one man who had caused his worst. He steadied himself before sneaking around to the back of the structure. Thankfully the thick vines that lead to the second story were still intact.

    JJ carefully made his way up the vine, and silently slipped in through the window. In all of his pranks with Marvin, JJ had mastered the art of moving silently and without trace. He had never been more grateful for that trait than he was as he worked his way towards the room his brothers were in.

    At the end of the hall, a room emanated a mixture of purple, blue, and green light. JJ’s heart started racing when he saw it, knowing that it meant that Marvin was using more of his magic towards Anti’s twisted plan. JJ quickly but quietly darted to the side of the door before poking his head in.

    JJ peered into the room and took stock of everything he saw. Marvin was in the middle of the room standing with his back to the doorway. He had a book in one hand while his other was hovered over a large sigil on the floor. The light was coming from his hand. Marvin’s hair was whipping around wildly as if there was a wind that was solely focused on the young magician. JJ focused back on the sigil. It depicted an intricate design that he had seen earlier in Marvin’s books. It could only mean that Anti was already having Marvin prepare the spell-binding ritual.

    JJ looked to the left wall and found his three brothers. They were each chained by their wrists to a pipe on the wall. JJ felt his heart break at the sight. Their eyes were still glazed over with the purple haze JJ had seen before. Their faces contained no emotion, and the way they sagged against the wall resembled the posture of a ragdoll. They looked so helpless. If he wasn’t careful, JJ could end up the exact same way.

    He shook the thought from his head. The only way he was going to get through this is if he keeps his mind clear. He scanned the room again, but couldn’t seem to find any trace of the glitch. The more JJ thought about it, the more unsurprising it was. Anti was most likely off recording a video about how he had taken down the rest of them and gloating about his victory.

    Sticking to the wall, JJ tiptoed to his brothers. His heart sunk to the floor as JJ realized once he got to them that he had no plan for how to actually get them all out of there. He wasn’t strong enough to carry all three of his brothers, and he certainly didn’t have the time to be able to get them out one by one. He looked at each of their faces in turn. JJ wished that he could trade places with any of the three. They would know what to do better than he did.

    JJ hadn’t noticed that he’d lost focus until he heard static slowly build in the room. He hesitantly turned around to where he had seen Marvin last and found that both he and Anti were staring straight at him.

    “Well, well, well. What did I tell you, my puppet? I knew it wouldn’t be long before the man out of time found his way here.” Anti’s broken voice rang out in the quiet. JJ nearly tripped over himself. Did Anti tell Marvin to leave that hint? No. That wasn’t possible. Only he and Marvin knew what it meant. JJ’s eyes shifted from the glitch over to Marvin who was kneeling in front of Anti. His expression was hard to see from behind his mask, but JJ could tell that it was one of anger. It was the same look he gave Chase right before Anti had ordered him to attack.

    “Why so quiet, little one? Cat got your tongue?” he laughed hysterically at his own joke as he placed his hand back onto Marvin’s head. “It was noble of you to try and rescue them, but surely you understand that I can’t have you messing with my plans for them. However, in the spirit of compromise, I’ll meet you halfway. I’ll have my pet here let you join your brothers.” Marvin rose to his feet as Anti gave him the command to cast the same spell on JJ.

    As soon as he saw Marvin’s hand begin to glow purple, JJ sprang into action. He had come too far to let himself be taken now. He didn’t want to do this, but his best bet at that point was to take Marvin out of commission. JJ ducked beneath the spell Marvin shot at him and dashed toward the middle of the room.

    Anti barked out a crazed laugh as he glitched around the room to see his pet fight from different angles. “Run, little one! Go ahead and put on a show for me. The stage is set and my performer is ready. Let’s see how long you can keep up with his act.”

    JJ bobbed and weaved just how Jackie had once taught him. He was able to dodge most of his attacks, but every so often a stray playing card would cut into him. Even so, JJ kept gaining ground until he was right in front of the magician.

Before Marvin could even react, JJ dropped low to the ground and used his legs to sweep Marvin’s from underneath him. Marvin fell to the ground hard. JJ took advantage of his lack of balance and, after signing a quick apology, punched his face with a right hook that even the mighty Jackieboy Man would’ve been proud of.

    Behind him, the purple haze gradually vanished from Henrik, Jackie, and Chase’s eyes. JJ’s hit was just powerful enough to break Marvin’s concentration on keeping them in their hallucinations. All three were disoriented as they came out of their trances, but they quickly got their bearings as they heard scuffle occurring before them.

Jackie was the first to get to his feet. Impulsively he rushed over to go help JJ fight. However, he was stopped halfway as Anti glitched right in front of him. “And just where do you think you’re going, hero? I’m not finished with you yet.” Jackie sneered at the glitch with a downright murderous glare. Sparks of lightning sprung forth from Jackie’s hands in an instant, and suddenly arched toward Anti. He was able to glitch away in time, but it left an opening for the hero to get to his little brother.

Chase and Henrik weren’t too far behind. They all raced over to help JJ in his fight, but JJ was losing steam rapidly. He didn’t want to fight Marvin. Each time he looked into his furious eyes, JJ felt another piece of him shatter. It caused JJ to keep getting sloppier and sloppier in his attacks, while Marvin was getting sharper and stronger in his after getting over the initial shock of the fight.

Soon enough Marvin had turned the tides on JJ. It was all the little ego could do just to keep dodging his spells and curses. Between each assault, he desperately tried to get through to his best friend. His hands flew as they spelled out apologies and pleas for him to snap out of it. Tears streamed down his face which only made it harder for him to hold his own.

Jackie arrived just in time to pull JJ out of the way of a large, blue fireball. JJ’s sleeve sizzled from the heat of the fire that had barely swiped his arm. Jackie held his little brother close as he frantically searched for the exit. He was about to dash over there when JJ squirmed right out of his arms. His littlest brother sprinted back toward Marvin. He couldn’t leave without him!

Chase caught him by the elbow and kept an iron grip on the ego. “I know you want to save him, but we can’t stay here. We have to go. I’m sorry.” Chase picked up JJ and tossed him over his shoulder. Then he began to run toward the exit where Henrik and Jackie were waiting. JJ fought him the whole way, pounding away at his back, but it didn’t do any good. The last thing JJ saw as they escaped was Marvin tied with strings that led back to Anti and identical smirks on both of their faces.

“You better keep running, little one. You’re almost out of time.”

Thanks for reading! I just got done with school, so I should have a lot more time to focus on writing at least until my job picks up. Please tell me what you think so far, ask me a question, leave me a comment. I love interacting with you all! I hope to have the next chapter up by Tuesday. I’m also still doing the dialogue prompts, if you want to submit a request. Thanks again!

Taglist:

@beerecordings @hexatrash @egopocalypse @i-don-t-believe @whydoilovesomanyvillians @aether-mae @egos-n-others @antibeaneverybody

[poppyknitt]

Adaptability- A JSE Egos Fanfic

Recap: Marvin and Jackieboyman were trying out a spell Marvin had been studying for a few months, trying to make a few plants large enough to be stable perches for Jackie’s new sidekick, Ferris, a juvenile Peregrine Falcon. Something backfired, however, and they found themselves with two new, plant-like additions to the family- Chomp, a comically large and mutated purple lily, which looks a bit like the Piranha plants from the Mario game series, and Thorn, a slightly oversized Venus Flytrap with a personality and smarts similar, if not slightly greater than, a cat’s (which is saying something, given its size and dopey, yet cute, appearance). Chomp is clearly more mouth and stomach than intelligence and beauty, while Thorn seems to be the smarter of the two, and refuses to leave Marvin’s side... er, rather, shoulder.

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[November 3rd, 2016, our time]

Henrik hummed quietly to himself as he walked along the street, wearing a grey hoodie because he’d been off work for the day, and didn’t need to wear the typical uniform he was seen in during videos. He was keeping his eyes peeled for any wounded animals on the streets, because, even though they weren’t all that common, he still somehow managed to find one every now and then. One of his favorite hobbies was helping injured stray or feral animals get back to full health, and return to the streets. Of course, there were obviously a few that would never be able to survive out on the loose again, so those ones were the ones he usually gave away to a center made specifically to help them, or to a person looking to adopt an animal in need. The most common cases of animals that wouldn’t be able to go back to the wild were usually birds or bats that broke or lost a wing. Their wings were fundamental to their survival, so without the ability to use both, they would probably starve, if they didn’t get eaten right away. Recently, he’d given a fox with three and a half legs to the local zoo, since he knew it wasn’t going to be able to adjust very well to being returned to the streets. It had apparently been ran over by a car, but was lucky enough to only have to have one of its legs amputated. The other front leg was broken when he got to it, but it healed back stronger than it originally was, with his and the local veterinarian’s help. Since he worked with humans, he always made sure to get regular checkups with a veterinarian for the animals he was helping, because they knew more about helping animals heal than he did.

He arrived home, having found no injured animals, unsurprisingly. He went upstairs, and into his bedroom, where he sat down at his desk and started working through paperwork of some kind.

A few hours passed, and nothing special happened. The sun had begun to set, and Henrik was taking a break from his work, knowing Seán would nag him if he saw that he hadn’t done anything but work since he got home. And then, it happened.

th-kSSSH!

The sound of something crashing into a glass window erupted throughout his room, making his hands instinctively shoot up to cover his ears. He removed them, eyes wide, as he stared at the wide trail of glass draped from the window to a small, dark lump on the floor, and his eyes widened, as he realized what it was.

A bat? Why on earth would a bat be out so early? The sun’s barely gone down! He blinked, as he studied it more carefully, looking for injuries. He immediately jolted from his chair when he saw a small pool of blood around it, scooping the little creature up, and bolting downstairs.

“Hey! Schneep! Wait! What’s going on?!” Jackie yelped when he saw the doctor running past him.

“No time! Must get this little one to the vet, soon as possible!” He responded. Jackie let out a partly audible “oh shit”, and vaulted over the chair he was in, helping Schneep get the bat safely to the car. They got there fairly quickly, and Jackie nearly had to hold Schneep back to keep him from crashing into the veterinarian’s office in almost the same way the bat had crashed into the doctor’s room.

As soon as Schneep managed to explain what happened to the clerk at the desk, which, admittedly, took a few tries, because he was speaking quickly, and he wasn’t exactly fluent in English just yet, the vet that usually came to help with whatever animal Schneep had with him, Doctor Lewis, was rushed in, and took the little bat into their emergency care room. Schneep opted to come with, but was told it would probably be best if he just stayed in the waiting room.

~~~

Henrik thanked the doctor once he paid the bill, and left, the bat gently cradled in his arms as he went back to the car, where Jackie was already waiting for him. The drive back home was much calmer, since they didn’t have to worry about a potentially dead or dying fruit bat this time. Schneep made sure to memorize the instructions he’d been given on how to help the bat heal as best it could, his heart still a little heavy, knowing that with its wing broken, it wouldn’t be able to survive out in the wild ever again.

“... So, Jackie, you mentioned a fiancé earlier, yes?” Henrik finally decided to fill the awkward silence with a conversation.

“Oh! Uh, heh... Y-Yeah. I... I proposed to my girlfriend, Ava, on the 28th of October... It was our four-year anniversary, so I-I figured it was time I, uh, sealed the deal, y’know?” He laughed nervously, his cheeks a little bit red as he spoke about it. Henrik couldn’t help but to feel happy for his brother; He would be starting a family soon, right?

“Yes, it would be a good time for that, wouldn’t it? Any plans for what will happen afterwards?” He didn’t want to push the topic of kids on his brother, knowing firsthand how annoying it was to have people constantly bothering you about such things.

“Yeah... A-Ava’s due to give birth soon... I’m really excited for it. The doc we’ve been seeing for things like ultrasounds and prenatal care thinks it’s gonna be a boy.” Jackie’s eyes lit up as he spoke, the hero obviously being excited for fatherhood.

“What? And why have I not heard of this until now, dear brother?” Schneep’s eyes also lit up at the news, and he sat up straight in his seat.

“Well... we were gonna keep it a secret... But, I-I just can’t help myself! I’m... I’m really excited for this, and, well, you know me! I-I can’t keep a secret for six months, let alone nine!”

Henrik smiled, laughing a bit as he spoke, “Ah, that, you cannot, my friend.”

~~~~

[January 2nd, 2017, our time]

Jackie held up a little slice of an apple to their new bat friend, hoping to get him to eat some. The little creature just shrunk back from him, obviously not wanting to eat.

“Schneeeeeppp!” Jackie whined, giving up, “Your dumb winged rat won’t- Ow!” He dropped the apple slice as his hand snapped to cradle the back of his head, after Schneep socked it pretty hard.

“Do not insult him for refusing to eat, Simon!” He snapped, his tone making Jackie shrink back in surprise. Jackie was well aware of what it meant if Henrik were to address him with his secret identity instead of his hero name, but that didn’t mean the tone was any less shocking.

“Sheesh! Calm down, will ya? I was just joking! Listen, can you just... do the thing?? I can practically hear the little guy’s stomach rumbling from all the way in the living room!” He complained, earning a glare from his brother.

He picked up the slice of apple Jackie dropped, and held it out to the little bat, “Fine. Is about time he got his third meal of the day, anyways.”

The bat squeaked quietly as the apple was held out to him, and happily grabbed onto it, using his good arm to nibble on it.

“See, brother? Is not that hard.”

“Yeah, well, you have a knack for this kind of thing. I don’t.”

~~~~

[April 14th, 2017, our time]

Chase, the newest addition to the family, stared at the little bat with intrigue, his eyes almost unblinking as he stared back.

“You know you can ask me whatever questions you have about him.” He stated flatly.

The younger ego turned and looked at him, eyes still a bit wider than normal, “What’s its name?”

Henrik blinked, having not considered naming it before, “... What?”

“Name, doc. What’s the lil’ guy’s name? He is your pet, right?”

“Well, at this point, I suppose is only fitting to call him my ‘pet’...”

“Okay, so, name, then?”

“He... does not have a name. We were not aware that he would stay very long.”

“Man, you guys are boring. If none of you are gonna name ‘im, I guess it’s up’ta me, then.” Chase had a big grin on his face now.

“Wait, what-?” Chase interrupted him before he could say any more.

Chase turned to look back at the bat in front of him, “You, my friend, will be called Nectar, from here on out.”

“Why?”

“‘Cuz he’s a fruit bat, and fruit bats like nectar.” Jackie could be heard muffling a bit of laughter.

“... Do not laugh at me, Jackie. Is surely not so funny that you have to cover your mouth.”

“Sorry.” The hero grinned, holding back more laughter, and earning another glare from his brother. Rogers, the cat that Henrik had been nursing back to health for a few days, which lost its eyesight to a fight with another cat, jumped up onto the table, purring, and affectionately pressed its head into Chase’s shoulder, making the young ego laugh, and ruffle its fluffy fur.

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WorldView AU Prologue: Part Two

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blind kitty may or may not somehow have the mind of a dog :v

@antis-loyal-puppet

@tiny-septic-puppet

@septic-dr-schneep

@chaoticcrimsonrose

[kangaroo-r00]

Reluctance

(A/N) Sorry if this is pretty shitty; this story did not want to be written.

Jackieboy Man often returned from his patrols with injuries, however minor they may be—Brighton was a decent sized city and while the crime rate was still in the normal range, it was definitely in the higher normal. More often than not, the injuries would be hardly worth noticing—sore or pulled muscles, small nicks or cuts, or bruises. On the rarer occasions, Jackie would come back with more serious wounds—stab or gunshot wounds, fractured or broken bones, dislocated limbs, or concussions. He was a hero; it wasn't out of the ordinary for any of these things to happen. The alarming thing about this situation was that the serious wounds were occurring more often than rarely now.

Infuriatingly enough, Jackieboy insists on taking care of everything himself. He managed to hide the fact that he got seriously injured during his patrols for the first couple weeks of it happening until one night when Marvin had stayed up later than usual to practise a new spell when Jackie came through the living room window with a bullet wound in his upper thigh. That was the first time when Marvin had helped Jackie with his wounds—after a huge fight whether or whether not Jackie getting hurt was any of Marvin's concern. They compromised: any break of fracture Marvin would heal, anything else Jackie could deal with on his own if he so chose. 

The only problem Marvin had with Jackie refusing to go to the hospital was that some of his more serious injuries needed professional help—not some amatuer stitch job and bundled in bandages. If the magician hadn't been living with Jackie or hadn't even had the ability to learn healing magic, he was sure the superhero wouldn't go to the hospital to get the broken and fractured bones looked at. Even the wounds he insists on taking care of himself seem like they'd heal better if he went to the hospital. Every time to magician brought up the topic of the hero needing to go to the hospital, the man would shut the idea down as quickly as possible, saying "he could take care of it himself".

Today Jackieboy came back looking like he'd just went through hell. Lacerations—large and small—covered his arms, bruises littering his body especially around his neck, a bloody nose, split lip, a black eye, and what suspiciously looks like a burn wrapped around his neck. The thing that bothered the magician the most was what appeared to be claw marks running down the top left side of his face starting at his hairline and ending on the bottom right of his cheek—the mask seemed to have protected his eyes and bridge of his nose from the blow—and the claw mark like gouges on the sides and front of his neck.

"I really don't understand why you won't just go to the hospital," Marvin muttered under his breath as he poured disinfectant on a washcloth. He wasn't expecting Jackie to answer which is why superhero pausing in his sewing caught him off guard. 

"Look, Marv," Jackie began, absentmindedly carding his bloodied glove through his green hair. "I understand why you're concerned—I really do—but there's a reason I don't go to the hospital."

Marvin took this distraction as a chance to press the soaking rag to hero's face, watching as Jacke recoiled with a startled sharp intake of breath. He muttered a soft apology before examining the wounds more closely. "Jesus, did you into a fight with a cat or something?" Marvin remarked, pointedly ignoring the annoyed glare Jackie gave him.

The hero gritted his teeth and exhaled slowly, mentally preparing himself for what he was going to say next. "I'm a hero, right? Well hospitals need your personal information—name, family, friends, age, health records. My whole job relies on me keeping my real identity a secret. No one I can't fully trust can know who I am, and that includes doctors. Sure, there's "patient confidentiality" and a doctor's job is to take care of the injured and sick but there's always a chance of it leaking out to the media."

Marvin was silent as he dabbed the rag on the last part of the slashes, pulling away slowly with his icy blue eyes narrowed, silently confirming he had cleaned each wound fully.

"Besides, I don't need to go to the hospital. I'm not dying or close to it. I can still do things without needing any help. If I went—" 

"You needed my help getting a box of cereal off the top shelf when you had injured your side earlier this week." Marvin cut in. 

Jackie inhaled slowly through his nose, continuing as he hadn't been interrupted by the magician's contradictory statement. "If I went to the hospital, they'd keep me on bedrest and I wouldn't be allowed to patrol and fight crime. I can take care of my injuries myself." Jackie stressed, shooting a small glare to the magician who had focused his attention on the deep gouges in the hero's neck.

"You're the one who came to me asking for help," Marvin shot back, leveling the hero's petulant glare with one of his own. "But... I can... understand—to some extent—why you're so reluctant to go to a hospital." He began slowly, beginning to work on cleaning the hero's neck, trying his best to avoid the dark purple and yellow bruises encircling his neck. "But at this rate you will have to go to a hospital, Jackie. You never used to get this injured on patrols or fighting crime. Sure you'd get bruises and cuts but you seem to be getting serious wounds and breaking bones now."

Jackie stayed oddly silent—the hero didn't seem to have the heart to find some excuse to avoid the man in the cat mask's accusations. Marvin finished disinfecting the gouges in his throat.

"But seriously, where the fuck did you get these claw marks? I was only half joking about the cat thing you know."

Jackie snorted at Marvin's bewilderment. "Do you really think so lowly of me? That I'd let a cat get the better of me—Jackieboy Man?"

Marvin grinned, his cat mask lifting ever so slightly. "Hey, I've heard about some of the cats you've rescued from trees. I wouldn't be surprised if one of them managed to claw you up a bit."

Jackie laughed before wincing, the claw marks and split lip stretching painfully when he grinned. A slow trickle of warmth trailed down his cheek.

After a moment of tense silence, Jackie spoke softly. "Hey, Marvin?" The man in question stiffened slightly—Jackie only used his full name to get his attention or when he was being serious.

"You haven't seen anyone... peculiar looking recently, have you?"

The magician hummed lightly, combing through his memories of recent performances and his walks to and from his acts, searching for anyone who fit the criteria for "peculiar". "I'm going to need more than simply "peculiar"." Marvin remarked dryly. "Why?"

The hero stayed silent for a minute before: "I've been running into this one... person many times during my patrols. I've just been wondering if you've ever seen them before." He refrained from mentioning the person has brought up Marvin once or twice in their cryptic conversations.

"Any distinguishing features you can describe to me?" Marvin offered, noticing the troubled look eclipsing his friend's face.

Jackie opened his mouth to answer before closing it again, a deep frown making its home on his normally happy face. At the last moment, he decided to lie. "No; not really. Or at least from what I know of. Haven't gotten a great look at them to be honest. It's always pretty dark out when I see them." 

It was clear Marvin didn't believe him but he didn't pry, choosing to stay silent as he watched a flicker of doubt cross the hero's features.

Jackie chose not to mention the person he had been speaking about didn't seem human.

(A/N) I feel like it's pretty obvious who the unmentioned character is. Especially since they also got a brief appearance in Lucky Diamonds. I'm not saying if any of you haven't figured it out yet. Also I feel like I should mention the egos are their own people in this series. Sort of. As to where Jack is in this whole mess? That'll be found out later. Now if you excuse me, I have Undertale fanfiction to write.

[asrisartarena]

What would happen if one of the egos went missing? (I'm guessing the reaction would change depending on who is the one who goes missing?) (Also, I don't mean certainly permanently missing where everyone is already grieving. More like no one's seen them in a worryingly long while) - Kata (one fic and one drabble later I've ran out of buffer so here I go torturing your inbox again)

Oooh that’s interesting! This might be long, so get ready for that!!

Robbie

PANIC. SO MUCH PANIC.

He’s the baby of the family he can’t be out there alone wHERE IS HE.

[Marlin voice] HaVe yOU SeEN oUR brOthER?????

Anti is glitch teleporting all over the place and panicking like crazy trying to find his brother.

Marvin is just as panicked and using his magic to try and locate Robbie.

Jackie’s searching the skies while Chase, Schneep, and JJ stay home in case Robbie somehow makes his way back there.

Turns out Robbie just went out for a walk and lost track of time, and when he gets back home everyone practically overwhelms him with hugs and affection and make him promise to never wander alone like that again.

Anti

No one’s really super worried bc it’s Anti and they know he can take care of himself just fine, but Robbie’s very anxious.

He doesn’t like his big brother being gone for so long and he’d be nervously fidgeting a lot and making worried whining noises until either Anti came back or someone found him.

Eventually Robbie’s worrying gets to everyone and someone (usually Marvin) tells Robbie that they’ll look for Anti if it’ll make him feel better, which it does.

It turns out Anti was out doing God knows what and being a little shit out in the world, and Marvin practically drags him back home by his ear, scolding him for worrying his little brother like that.

Marvin

When Marvin’s gone for a worryingly long time, that usually means he’s either holed up in his room hyperfocusing on a new spell, or he went somewhere else to practice magic and lost track of time.

Jackie would be the one worrying the most next to Robbie, and while everyone else would try and contact Marvin via texting or calling him, Jackie would search everywhere he thinks Marvin could be, and would not stop until he found him and knew he was okay.

Marvin, once found, would be fussed over a lot by Jackie, and Robbie would cling to him for the next few hours.

Once or twice they’ve found Marvin passed out in the middle of the forest while practicing a big spell bc he overworked himself, and it’s why Jackie always worries so much when Marvin’s gone for longer than he usually is.

Jackie

He’s a superhero, so he’s bound to be gone for long periods of time.

When he doesn’t come home at night, though, that’s when everyone starts to worry.

Especially Marvin, bc oh God what if Jackie’s injured, or worse?

Marvin being a natural worrywart and also being the Mom Friend doesn’t help his anxiety about the situation, either.

Everyone’s kind of worried, but nowhere near as much as Marvin.

He will search high and low and will not rest until he knows where Jackie is and that he’s okay.

He gives him lots of kisses when he finds him, and Jackie’s just “Babe I’m fine don’t worry so much about me I’m okay” and Marvin’s like “Fuck you I’ll worry as much as I damn please” and Jackie just rolls his eyes and laughs.

Schneep

I imagine Schneep to be a very punctual person who’s never really late for anything unless he’s very deep in his work, so when he’s gone longer than he says he will be, everyone’s concerned.

They’d try and contact him, and when he doesn’t respond, they get even more concerned.

They figure he’s just caught up at work and can’t get to his phone, but that doesn’t stop everyone from worrying until he eventually answers them.

Chase

Everyone’s second quickest to start worrying about Chase if he’s gone for a long while due to…past experiences.

More often than not, he’s only ever gone for a long time if he’s having a really bad depressive episode, and they worry greatly what he might do if on his own for too long.

So they go out and search for him, and they usually find him standing near a lake or in the middle of the forest or near a bridge, blank eyed and like he’s in a trance.

Whoever finds him just gently grabs him by the shoulders and talks softly to him as they guide him back to the house.

Jameson

I think with Jameson, since he’s mute, the egos lose track of him more often than they’d like to admit.

I also like to think Jameson is a tad forgetful, so half the time he’ll forget to tell the egos he’s going off to do something, and later on he’ll find them freaking over where he is, and he always feels bad about it.

Anti’s joked about putting a bell on him like you would a cat so they could keep track of him easier, and it always results in Jameson glaring at him while the others either groaned or laughed.

Angus

I honestly think the egos would be the least worried about Angus if he was gone for an exceedingly long time, since he usually disappears out of contact for weeks and months on end due to being out in the wilderness and all that.

He usually does say when he’ll get back into contact with the others, and he’s one to keep his word, so like with Schneep, when he doesn’t contact the egos around when he says he will, they worry.

Especially Anti, since Angus is his closest and oldest friend.

Angus just ended up losing track of time and getting way into nature, so after that, Anti had Marvin enchant Angus’s phone so that he could call/text the egos whenever, no matter how bad the reception is.

Shawn

If he’s hyperfocusing really hard on his work, he’ll forget to contact the other egos for up to a couple weeks, which always makes them worry.

Especially Jameson, since Shawn is his best friend.

Jameson will be extremely antsy and fidgety and frantically sign to the other egos that they should check up on Shawn and see if he’s okay, which they comply to, and they have found Shawn passed out at his work bench with dark circles and very messy clothes and hair more often than they could count.

This has also resulted in Jameson visiting Shawn more often and making sure he’s actually taking care of himself. Marvin does too, but Jameson does it the most.

[inkribbon796]

Jackieboy Man Origins: Chain Letter

Another Origin story, I did one for Silver a while back and I wanted to do one for Jackie.

Summary: For an Irish web developer, it’s been a long night. A long night that turns into a strange morning when he wakes up in the hospital and no memory of how he got there.

~::~ 25 Years Ago ~::~

   As a young man was dragging himself and his friend back from a haunted, twisted mansion in a half-dead hypnotic stupor, an Irishman was sitting at his computer in the dark early morning. Unseen to him, something in the wires of his computer were waiting, watching him for the slightest mental distraction, a fatigue to help it.

   For the man at the computer, it was late. Later than Sean usually liked to be up. Especially in the cabin he lived in with its thin walls and out in the middle of absolutely nowhere, Ireland.

   At the moment he was getting a call from his old friend, Chase. Both of them worked as coders and web designers for the same company.

   “Look, it’s not that I don’t believe ye,” Sean told him. “It’s just that yer full of shite.”

   “Hey, I did what I could, an’ it’s not workin’,” Chase answered, contacting him over the phone.

   Sean audibly groaned,  “Fine, send it. If it’s because yer wife downloaded another virus again, I will personally come over to Brighton and kill ye and yer computer.”

   “If yer gonna buy me a new computer, then bring it,” Chase dared.

   Sean groaned, “I’ll tell you when I’m done with it. Prolly gonna be done later in the week. I’m tired as shit.”

   With a goodbye and a couple barbed insults, Sean hung up. He was about to shut down his computer and go to bed. Closing up programs until the email from Chase came in.

   “Come on,” the Irish man groaned, and against his better judgement opened up Chase’s email and started reading through some of Chase’s notes.

   Two paragraphs in though his eyes started to get itchy, and his throat began to feel dry.

   “I’m tired,” Sean muttered, not meaning to say it out loud.

   “I’m tired.”

   Sean looked around, trying to find the voice.

   “Tired”

   The Irishman was looking around for his glasses, his eyes tired and having problems focusing. It made it look like the whole monitor was going fuzzy with static.

   “Tried”

   “Ugh,” Sean groaned, scratching at his own throat. “Arrrghhh!”

   “Aren’t you just sooooooo tired?”

   Sean stared at the screen, hazy with static and it seemed to be reflecting his smiling face back at him.

   “Ch—” Sean scrambled for the phone. Something was wrong, as if thousands of strings were being tethered to every muscle in his body. “Chase—”

   The Irishman’s head hit his desk and then . . . like a stiff marionette puppet being suspended by strings . . . he got back up again.

   The next thing Sean became aware of was lying down on a slightly cold surface, with a beeping noise echoing off the walls.

   “Ugh,” Sean coughed out, more and more of his body aching by the second. “Am I dead?”

   “No, but you’ll wish you were when the guards get back in here.”

   Sean startled and saw another of his friends sitting in the chair next to him was one of his friends, and his roommate, Marvin. “Marv, the fook happened to your face.”

   Scored down Marvin’s face were long claw marks, stitched to hold the wound closed. Marvin glared at him, looking like he was about to punch him in the face.

   “Yah get inta a fight with a cat or somethin’,” Sean tried to joke.

   Marvin leaned over him, glaring murderously at the other Irishman, pointing to his own face. “You did this to me?”

   “What?” Sean tried to sit up, but found out that he had both hands closely handcuffed to his hospital bed.

   “Yah scratched up my like a fookin’ demon cat,” Marvin spat at him. “Ye almost tore yer own throat out, an’ then ye tried to take my eyes out.”

   “I didn’t,” Sean tried to defend, but a sinking pit formed in his stomach. As if his body knew what he’d been up to last night, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember a single thing that had happened. The web designer was pretty sure he’d fallen asleep at his desk while working. “I wouldn’t—”

   Suddenly, Sean felt like a lump was forming in his throat, and it itched. The urge to reach up and scratch the skin of his throat was eating at him. His brain spiraled into a panic attack, and it felt like his body was physically spinning out of control.

   It took Marvin, two nurses, and a doctor to calm Sean down again. Now with Sean knocked out, Marvin was left to think. He’d known Sean for a long time, and the last thing he expected the other man to be, was violent. Marvin was pretty sure Sean didn’t actually have a violent bone in his body. He could get loud and belligerent, but never violent.

   But thing Marvin had stumbled upon while entering the cabin, that wasn’t Sean. It had taken everything Marvin had to convince everyone that Sean wouldn’t have purposefully tried to burn the cabin down, or attacked Marvin or the officers. Which got harder when his blood work came back clean as a whistle.

   But everyone was letting Sean rest. Sean was still sleeping while Marvin had to think. Yeah, he’d talked Sean out of getting thrown in a cell for arson and attempted murder. But that wouldn’t stop it from happening again.

   Desperate for anything to help, Marvin ran out to a store he typically got his candles and magic supplies.

   “Hey, Marv,” the girl behind the counter smiled at him, using his stage name since he could count on one hand the people he told his actual name to.

   “Hey, Clara, ye still got those weird doll parts?” Marvin was already running towards the back of the shop.

   She just stared at him, “Yeah, why? You inta puppets now or somethin?”

   Then she got a good look at the scratches on his face, “What the hell, man, what happened ta yer face?”

   “If I told you you’d stop me,” he told her, and handed her the money to walk out with his kit.

   “Be careful,” she warned him.

   “Will do,” he promised, and then rushed back to the hospital, smuggling in his kit back into Sean’s room.

   “Okay,” he took a steadying breath, over Sean’s still unconscious body. “This is such a bad idea, but yah can thank me after it works.”

   Then Marvin began working, trying to make the doll look as close to what he saw in the cabin. The dark, glowing green eyes, the slit throat, the wraith-like form. Once he was done with the life-sized model, he waited for the nurses to make their rounds and check on Sean. Marvin smiling, having the doll hidden from them in the bathroom. Cause a life-sized model of a guy was a sure fire way to get him supervised in the room at least.

   Then Marvin waited for them to leave before setting up the room for his Plan A: exorcise his friend and roommate. If he needed a Plan B, Marvin would burn that bridge when he crossed it.

   “Hey, Jackaboy,” Marvin tried to smile. “You awake?”

   No answer.

   Marvin frowned, then he took out a spellbook, “Good.”

   He uttered a quick summoning spell, standing outside the containment spell he’d drawn on the floor. Sean began to convulse and scream, his skin literally buzzing.

   Sean’s screams were so loud, the door flew open as a passing nurse came in, “What the fook?”

   Then a force of pure static electricity shot out of Sean, as a creature that looked almost exactly like the Irishman still passed out on the hospital bed, except for the gash on his throat. The being of malic and chaos just floated in the air above Sean’s bed.

   “Well, well, looks like I found myself a street magician too big fer his own britches,” the creature cackled. The nurse was still at the door, staring at the creature in horror. It smiled back at her.

   “Hey, you almost got my friend arrested,” Marvin tried not to show any fear.

   “Still got time fer that,” it dismissed.

   “Here’s the deal, ye go into this image I made, and I don’t destroy you,” Marvin threatened.

   The doppelgänger just cackled, sounding like Sean just with a crackling, static-like tone to it. “An what? Let yah rip me apart, I don’t think so Two-Bit Copperfield.”

   “Yer going to do it, or I’ll make yah,” Marvin threatened.

   It just laughed again, the very air charging with static electricity, and the creature lightly touched down on the floor, looking at the symbols and lines that were keeping him in. “Yah pay for those magic tricks?”

   “None of your business,” Marvin finally started actually getting brave.

   It took one of its feet and stubbed out one of the lines, blowing back the power onto Marvin, who flew into the wall.

   “Cause, ye got yerself ripped off,” it cackled and moved closer to stand over Marvin’s pain wracked body, the magician slumped against the wall as muscles in his body shook and trembled with electricity.

   “When you want ta learn some real tricks, call me,” the thing took its claws and scored a name into Marvin’s arm: ANTI. Marvin screamed in pain and watched the cop that had been taking questions early bust in.

   Anti looked back at him, standing up and walking back over to Sean’s bed. Marvin heard Sean make a confused groan. “Well, this place has gotten a bit stale. I’ll be seeing you around Copperfield.”

   Marvin tried to pull himself back up, his arm burning. “Wait,” he growled.

   “Hey, get away from them,” the officer barked, rushing for Anti.

   “No, I don’t think so,” Anti grinned, his head almost glitching. “So, buddy, yah got a gun or a TASER? Cause I’m itching to have some fun.”

   There was a loud grunt, and everyone, even Anti, looked over to see Jack struggling weekly against the cuffs tethering him to the hospital bed.

   In the distraction, the officer grabbed onto Anti, trying to wrestle him onto the ground, and got jolted with visible electricity for his troubles. The officer dropped and convulsed on the ground, screaming in pain. The nurse closest to the door rushed to him.

   “Aww, what’s wrong?” Anti smiled at Sean as he walked over to him.

   “No,” Marvin panicked, trying to weakly scramble with his good arm for anything to make Anti go away.

   “I’ll be with you in a second, Copperfield,” Anti summoned a dagger from almost a violent tear in reality itself and threw it. It perfectly nailed Marvin’s other shoulder. Effectively disabling him. Marvin screamed.

   Another dagger got the mannequin Marvin had made, electricity catching it on fire. “And there we go,” Anti’s smile got wider, “get rid of that eyesore.”

   With another step, Anti was leaning over Sean, barely out of reach as Sean. “Hello, well, it has been fun, but I’m tired of you. So, let’s have a little fun with you and your friends before I go.”

   “Get away from them,” Sean threatened.

   “Oh? Puny little human,” Anti cackled, grabbing the Irishman still cuffed to the hospital bed and started to jolt him. As the glitch demon shocked and coursed electricity through him, his whole body glitched the very air around him. “What ye gonna do about it?”

   Sean screamed and sudden his whole body seemed to move, as if every part of his body was just vibrating and shaking, rattled by the electricity.

   Three things happened almost at the same time, and to Marvin’s perspective they did. Time seemed to slow down as Anti reached for his throat. Sean gave a final tug and the cuffs came free. As quick as he could, Sean hit Anti in the face, what felt like electricity coming off his entire arm, but he didn’t see anything.

   The glitch demon recoiled back, mostly in shock, holding the side of his face and just staring at the Irishman who was struggling to get out of the hospital bed and to get in front of Marvin. Adrenaline was coursing through his body, keeping him upright.

   “Yer goin’ ta regret that,” Anti warned.

   “Get away from him,” Sean told him. “Yer not gonna hurt him again.”

   Anti cackled, his body glitching, “What are yeh goin’ ta do? Bleed on me?”

   Sean took a nervous step back, almost stepping on Marvin’s leg, Marvin was able to pick himself up enough to lean against Sean’s legs, placing a hand on the back of his leg, and starting to draw something, his hand shaking as he screamed out in pain.

   “When I kill you, I’ll enjoy it,” Anti promised.

   “If I hit yah once, I can hit ye again,” Sean threatened, just hoping that his body wasn’t nearly as hurt as he thought it was. The police officer seemed to finally be getting up, coughing and holding his arm. Sean hoped it might help get Anti under control, even if he didn’t think whatever Anti was could even be arrested.

   Anti just walked over, “I will enjoy tearing you apart.”

   Sean winded back for another punch, but when he tried to hit Anti, the glitch just stepped to the side. Giving Sean an amused, chortle.

   “Little fly,” Anti chuckled, the glitch demon’s eyes glowing, the iris of his mostly black eyes green. “Somethin’s never change.”

   Then, Anti scratched Sean across the chest, making him stumble back as Anti floated above him and gave him a smug look. Sean already felt drained, a mix of the painkillers, his throat, and the fact that he’s been mentally out of it for hours. But his body also felt absolutely wired with adrenaline.

   He lifted his arms but Anti froze, jolted by something. His eyes almost crackling with static. “You!” he snarled at Marvin. “What’d yah do ta me?”

   Marvin let out a chuckle. “Plan B, thanks fer jumping outta my friend.”

   With a harsh scream, Anti began to glitch and distort, screaming as he was trying to reach out for Jackie but burst into static and seeming disappeared.

   “Is he dead?” Sean gasped.

   “Prolly not,” Marvin coughed. “Should leave us alone fer a while, though,” Marvin slumped over onto the ground. Sean just sat down as two nurses raised over to them.

   “Well kid, yah off the hook,” the officer said. “I don’t think the boys are gunna take ghosts as an excuse. Sorry I couldn’ta been ‘a useful back there.”

   “No prob,” Sean told him. “I’m tired, can I got ta bed?”

   “Try to stay with me a bit longer,” the nurse told him, checking his eyes and all the deep scratches on him. The nurse that had been treating the police officer was now treating Marvin, calling on the radio for back up. Sean’s tied mind losing the voice in all the medical jargon.

   “What’dya do back there?” The officer asked. “I lost sight of yah and suddenly yah were in front’a yer friend.”

   “I just hit him, think it surprised him,” Sean admitted. “Marv’s got a spellbook or whatever the hell he calls it.”

   Looking over, Sean saw the cheap journal Marvin used to store and record his “notes” lying all the way across the room. “Give me a sec,” Sean said. “Maybe Marve took some notes on the bastard.”

   “Wait, you shouldn’t,” the nurse began but Sean was already up.

   He took a couple steps and faster than his brain could process it, Sean had slammed into the opposite wall, knocking him flat on his back. At the sudden loss of air in his lungs, Sean began coughing, trying to roll over but found that the adrenaline in his body was already starting to drain out. “Ugh,” Sean groaned in pain.

   The room went dead silent.

   Then, the nurse swore. “Did you just?”

   “Ugh, everything hurts,” Sean complained, and then passed out.

   Next thing Sean process was that he was in a new room, about three doctors in the room and sensors monitoring his pain. But at least, he had enough painkiller not to feel how absolutely destroyed his body probably was.

   “Hey, jackaboy,” Marvin greeted, he was sitting next to him, his shoulder and arms bandaged up. “So, quick question, yah have any secret identities I should know about?”

   “No, why?” Sean asked, already feeling pretty loopy.

   “Good, cause I’m pretty sure some suits have been in here, and they walked away with a lot of yer blood,” Marvin told him. “Mine too.”

   “Pretty sure, they can’t do that,” Sean reminded.

   “Well they just did,” Marvin told him, “I tried to fight them, but they were about to arrest me if I didn’t comply.”

   “Fer what? Doin’ magic without a license?” Sean tried to joke.

   “No, cause you went 0 to 15 with just yer feet, before colliding with a wall and took a chunk outta the plaster,” Marvin told him.

   “Huh, yah’d think I’d remember that,” Sean thought out loud. “But hey, if I did, I can maybe become a superhero or somthin’. Wouldn’t that be funny?”

   “He awake?” a woman’s voice got Sean’s attention.

   “An’ drugged ta hell,” Marvin warned.

   “Then this won’t take long,” she said and walked over to where Sean could actually see her.

   “Hey,” Sean smiled.

   “You’re Sean McLoughlin, from Althone, Ireland?” she looked at him, studying him up and down.

   “Yeah?” Sean answered. “Who’s askin’? Is this about the wall I broke?”

   “We’re more concerned with how the wall broke, than who broke it,” she corrected.

   “Shit,” Sean shrugged, immediately regretting it because of how sore he still was, even with the painkillers. “Ow. Why did I do that?”

   “Are you still hurt?” she asked.

   “Nah, it’s just sore,” Sean correct. “What were we talking about?”

   The woman didn’t seem to even be frustrated. “Do you know what happened, Mr. McLoughlin?”

   “Nah,” Sean dismissed. “I think there was some glitchy reject video game character, an’ now everythin’ should hurt, but doesn’t cause’a these awesome drugs.”

   She looked at Marvin, but Marvin shrugged, “Hey, guy’s as high as a kite, what do ye want from me?”

   “Mr. McLoughlin, my name is Agent Laine,” she told him.

   “Kay,” Sean smiled.

   “We’ll let you get back to sleep,” Sara told him. “I’ll be back.”

   “Hopefully with an actually reason to take our blood,” Marvin reminded.

   “Only if we find anything out of the ordinary,” she said and left.

   “Finally,” Marvin growled.

   “She doesn’t seem nice,” Sean commented.

   “Alright, you might not remember this, but last night you moved fast, like superhuman fast, and I did actual magic. It was amazing.” Marvin smiled. “Unfortunately the suits figured out.”

   Sean just laughed, “Yeah right, an’ I’m a superhero.”

   Marvin shrugged, “Sleep it off, I’ll try and keep the suits from locking you in a padded cell.”

   “Yer the best, Marv,” Sean told him, and they just kept talking, more joking than anything else until Sean got tired again.

   In five days Sean would run through town in a colorful, oversized hoodie and an old Halloween mask he’d find in Marvin’s box of things. In five days, Sean would race around the city, testing out his newfound super speed.

   But today there were just two friends in an isolated room, talking and laughing. Both of them enjoying the little bit of peace they had while it lasted.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Encounters & Events

A JSE Fanfic

Usually I don’t write two parts of the same story so close together (since I have...so many stories I need to work on) but my muse for this has been going crazy. And people really seem to like this! So I decided to go ahead and, you know, write some of the more important events, including a huge reveal right at the end. This turned out a bit longer than usual, but it’s mostly dialogue, so it should go fast. Let’s check in on all the boys—and I do mean all the boys—shall we? :3c

You can find the other stories under the pw timeline tag!

“Luna, no, stop bothering your brother.” Marvin, carefully balancing a bowl in one hand, reached forward and tried scooting the small black cat away from the terrarium with the other. Said cat looked up at him with big yellow eyes. “Don’t give me that look. He’s probably trying to sleep. You’re annoying him. Go.”

After a few more careful nudges, the cat, Luna stood up and jumped off the table. She stalked to the open doorway, where she proceeded to flop down on her side and stare at him, not moving at all.

Marvin scowled at her. “I will step over you. You are tiny.” He turned back to the room at whole. It looked kind of bare, despite being back home for almost a week. He had yet to take all his knickknacks and posters out of the boxes and put them back up around the room. But the furniture—sofa, armchair, coffee table, table for the terrarium, and television—was all where he’d left them. The room hadn’t changed. The walls and furniture were still shades of blue, his gold stars still painted on the ceiling. And he could still eat his pasta while sitting on the sofa like he wanted to.

He set his bowl down on the coffee table and proceeded to flop down on the sofa before remembering he left his drink back in the kitchen. He sighed, and stood back up. And then the doorbell rang. Well. At least he was already standing up. He walked over to the front door, glanced through the peephole, and then opened it. “Hi JJ.”

Hello. JJ was standing on the doorstep, bouncing awkwardly. I hope I’m not bothering you.

“No, it’s fine, I was just about to have lunch.” Marvin shrugged. “You want to come inside?”

Please.

Marvin stepped aside to let JJ walk in. Before he entered, JJ bent over and picked up a gift bag he must have set down earlier. Once he was inside, JJ held the bag out for Marvin to take. Happy late birthday.

“Oh!” Marvin took the gift bag, looping his arm through the handles. “I thought you forgot.”

No, I’ve just been busy, JJ signed, looking sheepish. Sorry, I know I said I was going to help you unpack and such a few days ago. 

“It’s fine. I mean, I don’t think I can ever say anything about people leaving now that I’ve gone and...you know.” Marvin laughed. It came out a little forced.

JJ glanced around the living room, noting the boxes still sitting around with stuff inside. Do you still need help?

“Yeah. How’d you tell?” Marvin kicked the nearest box. “How’s it feel to be the only one in the group with executive function that actually works?”

JJ chuckled. By the way, I think your cat is trying to steal your noodles.

“Wha...?” Marvin spun around. “Luna Void! Get away from there!” He quickly crossed the room, picking up the black cat just before her paw dipped into the bowl. “That’s human food, not cat food. And I just filled your bowl, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

Luna meowed.

Marvin shook his head, glancing around the room. He noticed a big ball of white and brown fluff sitting on the armchair. “Here, play with Ragamuffin.” He set Luna on top of the fluff ball, which meowed and lifted its head, revealing itself to be a ragdoll cat, mostly off-white with a brown tail, face, and ears. “Shush, you love her, Muffin.” Ragamuffin meowed again as Luna flopped across him. Marvin looked back at JJ. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

I love them, JJ signed happily, eyes locked on the two cats.

Marvin laughed. “You can come by to see them any time. Your building still have the rules about pets?”

Yes, sadly. JJ sighed. Not even Mr. Purple Snake is allowed.

“Hey, Salazar isn’t purple, he’s lavender,” Marvin corrected. “Purple makes it sound like he’s the same shade as that thing from McDonald’s, while lavender is the actual name of the morph.”

And he has stripes.

“Exactly, he’s a striped lavender snake,” Marvin said, nodding.

Fits you perfectly, JJ commented. Anyway, are you going to open your present now or later?

“I can do it now,” Marvin said, grabbing the gift bag off his arm. He sat down on the sofa, searching through the tissue paper. JJ took a seat next to him. After pulling out all the paper, Marvin reached into the bag and pulled out a golden heart-shaped locket. His eyes widened. “No way.” He turned the locket over, noticing a small key, which he wound a few times. The chimes of a music box started playing. Marvin looked up at JJ. “Oh my god. Oh my god. I thought this was a collector’s item, how did you find one?”

Someone was selling it online, JJ explained. I know you really like the game, so I thought you’d like it. He looked hopeful. Well...do you?

“Fuck, of course I do.” Marvin lifted the locket to his ear, listening to the familiar melody. “Oh my god. Oh my god, JJ. Thank you so much.” Words weren’t enough to describe what he was feeling, so Marvin grabbed JJ’s hand and squeezed it tight, swinging it a little. He let go sooner than he would’ve liked to, so JJ could respond if he wanted.

I’m glad, JJ signed, beaming. I wanted to get you something that meant a lot, since it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.

“Yeah...yeah, it has, hasn’t it?” Marvin rewound the music box as it slowed down. He suddenly felt his eyes well with tears. He turned away from JJ, rubbing his eyes.

JJ picked up on it, of course. Are you okay? he asked, concern lining his face.

“Fine.” Marvin’s voice cracked on the single syllable. “I-It just...fine. I’m just...a lot of things have happened.”

Jameson scooted closer. Do you want to talk about it?

“No,” Marvin said, perhaps a little too fast. “I’m good.” He didn’t want to explain this to any of them. He wasn’t sure what they’d think of him if they knew. It might just be better if he kept silent about it. Part of him whispered that they’d want to know why he left eventually, but he...he didn’t think he was brave enough to listen to that part.

JJ looked at him oddly. You sure?

Well...there was a smaller thing that he thought was safe to talk about. “Well...” he said slowly. “You know, Schneep and I really liked this game.” He squeezed the locket under his hand. “It was kind of our thing. He joked that it was his birthday gift, since it, y’know, came out the same day. The two of us were the only ones who liked it for a long time, and we kept fucking badgering Jack to play it on the channel.” Marvin smiled. “No joke, we one time spent two hours straight just talking about it.” The smile faded. “I just...I miss him, I guess.”

Jameson didn’t say anything for some time. Then: I see, he signed. But he’s back now, isn’t he? You can go visit.

“Yeah, I know that, like intellectually,” Marvin explained. “But I-I don’t know, I guess I’m nervous. That something will go wrong. Y’know, Chase told me what happened at the last visit.”

JJ bit his lip. Well. That might’ve been because of me. I think that he just freaked out because...he thought I was someone else.

Was that what happened? Chase had said that JJ somehow caused Schneep to freak out, but he hadn’t mentioned it was because Schneep thought he was someone else. “Still,” Marvin said, and then fell silent.

You can go with Chase, if you want, for support, JJ suggested. 

“Maybe,” Marvin said slowly. “Maybe I should just go today, just jump in impulsively.” He...he did really want to see him. “Maybe Chase can come too, he can drive me.”

I think Chase has something to do today, JJ said.

“Really? What?”

I don’t know. JJ shrugged. 

“Maybe he’s filming or something,” Marvin wondered out loud. “Would you want to come, if I went to see Schneep today?”

Jameson immediately paled. I don’t think that’s a good idea, given how he reacted.

“He could’ve forgotten,” Marvin suggested.

In a few days?

“I don’t know, it’s possible. He used to complain a lot about how he didn’t have a strong sense of...time.”

Well, I’m still not sure it’s a good idea, JJ signed slowly. Besides, I have work this evening.

“Oh yeah,” Marvin recalled. “You still working for, uhhh what’s-his-face? Mr. Paddington, or something?”

JJ smiled. Mr. Patterson, he signed, spelling it out. And yes. Are you still working at the boutique?

Marvin’s face fell. “No.” He paused, then continued in sign. I got fired. About a month before I left.

Jameson’s mouth formed a small O shape. I’m sorry.

It’s fine, I hated retail anyway, Marvin signed dismissively.

For a moment more, they just sat there. I think your cats are fighting, JJ signed after a while.

Marvin looked over at the armchair and watched as Ragamuffin shoved Luna off the seat. “They’re fine, Muffin’s just grumpy.”

Ah. Jameson hesitated, then signed his next string of words super-fast, as if shoving out his idea before he started to regret it. You know, if you ever want to talk to someone, but not one of us, like, someone more serious about things that are...difficult, then I can give you my therapist’s number.

Marvin looked vaguely surprised. “Wait, you go to an actual talking therapist? Like for issues and stuff? I thought when you mentioned therapy it was, like, speech therapy.”

I tried speech therapy, it’s never worked, JJ said dryly. And at this point I don’t think it will. But I’m fine, not willing to try any sort of operation to fix the damage.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything. Wasn’t even thinking it,” Marvin assured him.

Some people do, JJ signed, a bit bitterly. But yes, an “actual” therapist. I suggested it to Chase, too.

“Oh, that’s good. He could use that.” Marvin fell silent. “I-I don’t know. I’ll think about it.” He wasn’t sure he would go through with it. He wasn’t sure how to explain to anyone about...all of this. Especially a therapist. He wasn’t sure he could trust them to not call the police.

JJ smiled. That’s enough. Now, are you ready to actually have me help you unpack?

“Oh shit I completely forgot about that,” Marvin said, sitting up straight.

Maybe I could come back after you’re done with lunch, JJ suggested.

“No, you’re here, let’s do it now.” Marvin hadn’t forgotten about the lunch, at least. Though he did realize his pasta was getting cold. He pulled the bowl towards him. “We can eat together first. I made too much spaghetti, there’s still some in the kitchen.”

Oh. Thank you.

“No problem. Let’s both go there, I don’t trust the cats to leave us alone anymore.” Marvin shot a look at the two cats, Ragamuffin sitting, satisfied, in the armchair while Luna zoomed around the floor.

Good idea. JJ stood up. He paused. I’m not sure if I’ve said this yet, but...it truly is good to see you again.

Marvin smiled; he hoped it wasn’t strained. He looped the locket’s chain around his neck, the gold heart settling against his blue shirt. Thanks, he signed. Good to be back.

——————

Chase had something to do. Something he’d been neglecting for...god, it must’ve been three months now. The thought made guilt curdle in his stomach. It’s been far too long. A lot had happened, but that wasn’t an excuse.

It was another hospital. Not like the one Schneep was in, more of what you would usually expect when you heard the word “hospital.” Still, the check-in procedure was basically the same. Though this one didn’t have a visitors’ room. You were allowed to see the patients in their rooms here.

Even though it had been a while, Chase still remembered what room number it was—309—and what section it was in—ICU. He pushed open the door, and saw nothing had changed in the months since he’d been there. He walked inside, taking a seat in the one chair in the room, next to the bed. He took a deep breath. “Hi, Jack.”

As usual, there was no response except for the beeping from the heart monitor. Jack looked pretty much exactly the same. Eyes closed, oxygen mask strapped to his face. Chase couldn’t remember what was actually wrong with him, just that the doctors said Jack would either come out of it in time, or not at all.

“I know it’s been a while. Things have been...kind of tough lately,” Chase said slowly. “Um, they found Schneep. I-I don’t know how you’d feel about that, given...you know...” He waved vaguely at the bed. “Him and this whole situation. I-I still don’t think he meant to. I think he might’ve just been a bit...confused. You know how he gets. Maybe he was off his meds that day. Anyway, he’s in Silver Hills now. You know that place. I think it’s good that he’s there, it could really help. Apparently they also think he killed some people? Which I was surprised to hear, I never would’ve thought...” Chase trailed off. “I-I don’t think it’s his fault, really.”

He paused there for a moment, eyes tracing the line on the heart monitor. Steady. That’s good.

“Also, Marvin’s back. I don’t know where he went, he said he went to live with his grandma for a while. Probably true, but I just know there’s something else. Anyway, I’m not gonna ask him too much if he doesn’t want to talk about it. I don’t want him to...you know, shut down or anything.”

Another pause. Breathing was steady, too. It always was.

“And Stacy called me, too. I thought she was mad at me, or something, but, uh, turns out she’s not. Which is great. She just was having some work troubles and was kinda stressed, and I guess she was just too busy. But she’s doing okay, now. She quit working at the school, now she’s somewhere else, uh, I don’t remember the name but it apparently pays better. She does something with graphic design, which you know, she’s always wanted to. And Sophie and Nick are great, too. They’ve started this thing called reception this year, which I guess is like preschool for England. I dunno, I’m some dumb American. They sound like they’re doing okay. Everything’s...everything’s doing okay...”

Chase blinked back tears. Why was he crying? He wasn’t sad. He wasn’t...anything, really. He felt kind of...gray. But there was one thing he could feel that wasn’t just...gray. “I miss you,” he choked out. “I...I miss you a lot, Jack. I’m sure a lot of people miss you. I’m still trying to keep your community alive, but...well, I’m not you. It’s not the same thing, watching someone else run it.” He rubbed his eyes. “God, this is stupid. I’m stupid. I was just telling you how everything’s okay. And it should be. It should be. Everything’s getting better, just a little bit. Maybe that’s why the things that aren’t...they just seem worse. I miss you. I miss Jackie. I’m...I’m tired, Jack. I’m always tired, I-I can’t do this.” He didn’t know what ‘this’ was.

Someone knocked on the door to the room.

Chase sat up straight, furiously swiping away tear tracks. He stood up and walked over to the door. He opened it to see Marvin standing there.

“Oh. Hi, you are here,” he said. “I thought, ‘cause the door was closed...are you busy?”

“No, no, come in, it’s fine,” Chase hurried to say. He stepped aside. “Um, is that a new shirt? I didn’t think you liked to wear green.”

Marvin looked down at his T-shirt. “Yeah, it’s new. Not one of my favorites, but whatever.” He walked inside, stopping by the side of the bed. He looked down at Jack with an unreadable expression. “He looks so...small.”

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Chase said. Marvin hadn’t been one to visit often before he left. But he supposed his time away changed a lot of things.

Marvin nodded. “Yeah.” He looked up at Chase. “Were you...doing something, or...?”

“No, I-I was just—it’s fine,” Chase stuttered.

“Cause I...I kind of wanted to talk to him.”

“Yeah, of course, I-I’ll wait outside.” Chase hurried out of the room, closing the door behind him. He took a deep breath.

He really needed to get back into practice with these visits. Maybe then he wouldn’t start crying every time. But...well, maybe a different set of visits had taken up space in his mind.

Waiting outside the hospital room, Chase turned his thoughts to Schneep. He wondered how he was doing.

——————

The answer to Chase’s wondering was “not so good,” as proven by the interaction that took place across town, a little over two hours after Chase ended his visit.

Oliver hadn’t been prepared for anything like this in all his years working this job. He hadn’t been prepared for this entire case. The past few months had been a roller coaster that threw all his expectations out the window. He might’ve been inclined to reexamine those expectations, if he wasn’t too busy at the moment trying to keep peace in...well, in what was starting to look more like an argument than a therapy session.

Which was how most of these sessions were, now that Dr. Newson had taken over for Dr. Laurens. Oliver wasn’t sure what Newson had against Schneep, but there must’ve been something, because this was definitely not normal. In just a few days, Oliver had gone from standing in the corner of the room during these sessions, to standing right by Newson and Schneep in the center, looking back and forth between them so that he didn’t miss anything...potentially dangerous to either of them.

“You are asking too many questions!” Schneep growled. “Why should any of this matter to you?!”

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell me how to do my job,” Newson retorted. “You’re not that kind of doctor. In fact, you might not even be that at all.”

Schneep bristled. “Excuse me? You insult me enough, do you have to bring something completely untrue into this?!”

“All I’m saying is that delusions are a common symptom of your condition,” Newson said with a sickly sweet smile. “Maybe you just thought you were—”

“Fick dich und deine Vorfahren! You do not come into here and dismiss years of my work and study like this!”

“I can come in here whenever I want! I’m in charge!”

Schneep burst into laughter. “And you are doing such a wonderful job of it! Do you have nothing better to do than yell at me for an hour?!” His head tilted to the side. His hand shot to his neck, fingers starting to claw at skin. Oliver reacted immediately, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand back. Schneep didn’t even notice. “Because that is really all you are doing!”

“Alright, fine.” Newson took a step back, straightening her jacket. “Let’s do something else, then. We can work on uncovering the inner motivation for you killing thirteen people.”

“I did not k—!”

“Yeah, I know, you think something made you do it,” Newson dismissed. “Well, the fingerprints on the murder weapons would tell a different story. Do you think you needed some sort of control? After all, things hadn’t been going so well in your personal life, with your job and your wife.”

“Shut up about Mina,” Schneep growled. “We were doing fine.”

“Hmm, yet I haven’t seen her in the visitors’ room yet. Or even heard from her.” Newson flashed a smile.

Oliver thought that was a bit too far. “Um, Dr. Newson, do you really think—”

“That is none of your business!” Schneep suddenly screamed.

“Of course it’s my business! How am I supposed to do my job without getting into your life?”

“That is not what you are doing! You are needling me for no reason! Why?! Is this fun for you?! I am tired of being fucked with by people and their sick games!” Schneep’s other hand darted forward, reaching for Newson. Oliver grabbed that one, too.

“Well, that’s the pot calling the kettle—” Newson suddenly stopped, being interrupted by a beeping noise. She looked down, and grabbed the pager off her belt. She quickly read the message, and sighed. “We’re going to have to cut this short today.”

“Good,” Schneep snarled. “I was about to tear your tongue out.”

“Now, you don’t want to be doing things like that, or you could spend the night in the quiet room again,” Newson said, folding her arms.

Schneep suddenly paled. He pulled his hands out of Oliver’s grasp and backed up, into the bed. He grabbed the pillow and hugged it to his chest, burying his face in it.

Oliver wasn’t sure why Schneep had such a strong reaction to the quiet room. Well, there was the stigma about having a room with padded walls, that was pretty much empty except for a bed. Oliver wasn’t about to pretend that popular culture hadn’t put its mark on that. But for some reason, even mentioning it made Schneep shut down entirely.

“Oliver, follow me,” Newson said. She turned on her heel, leaving the room. Oliver stood there for a moment more, then hurried to catch up.

“What is it, Dr. Newson?” he asked as they walked down the halls.

“What is what? The incident I’ve been paged about, or the reason why I asked you to come with me?”

“Um. Both, I guess.”

Dr. Newson sighed. “Lily just paged to tell me there’s some sort of commotion at the front desk. She’s new there, I guess she’s never had to deal with this before, so she appealed to the highest authority. Anyway, I wanted you to walk with me so we could talk about Henrik’s medication.”

“...alright,” Oliver said, confused. “Well, Dr. Laurens gave him a new one two weeks ago, since the other one apparently wasn’t effective.”

“I know that,” Newson nodded. “But it’s still not up to a full dosage.”

“Well...no,” Oliver admitted. “Laurens wanted to get him off the old one first, then get him used to this new one.”

“Well, I think he should be used to it by now,” Newson said dismissively. “We can up it to full. And we should give him a stronger tranquilizing agent, as well, I don’t think this one’s working too well.”

“...I see,” Oliver said slowly. He had to admit, he wasn’t an expert on this sort of stuff. It was why he was an orderly and not a doctor—well, that and the obvious lack of an actual doctorate. But he knew a bit about the medications, and... “Dr. Newson, aren’t there side effects for the current medication? Isn’t that why he has to get used to it in the first place? Are you—I don’t mean this the wrong way, but, are you sure he’s ready?”

“Of course I am.” Newson nodded once, firmly. Her eyes were burning. “I’m letting you know so you won’t think anything’s out of the ordinary when you pick it up tomorrow.”

“...alright.” Oliver didn’t want to say anything bad; he didn’t want to lose his job, and to be honest, Dr. Newson was a little intimidating. But he wasn’t sure her motives were entirely pure. Still, he kept silent. With Laurens gone, Schneep needed an ally.

“Here we are, the front desk,” Newson said, pushing open the door. Oliver hung back, watching the scene. Lily Travels, a relatively new doctor, was manning the desk, trying to calm down a clearly upset man, who...looked familiar. If it hadn’t been for the long wavy hair held back in a ponytail, Oliver could’ve sworn that he was—

“Hello, is there a problem here?” Newson asked pleasantly.

“I want to see someone,” the man said. “I looked up your hours on your website! But she keeps saying that he’s not available!” The man’s voice was loud and distressed. He kept touching the cup full of pens on top of the desk, playing with it.

“Sir, please put that down,” Dr. Travels said weakly, in the tone of someone who’s been asking the same thing for a while.

The man sharply withdrew his hand. And then immediately took five pens out of the cup and started chewing on the end of one of them. Dr. Travels sighed.

Newson looked the man up and down. Recognition flared in her eyes. “Sir, what’s your name?”

“Marvin. Marvin Maher, I wrote it on the clipboard,” the man said, still chewing on the pen.

“Mr. Maher, put down that pen, or you’ll have to pay for it.” Marvin immediately dropped the pen. “Who are you here to see?”

“His name’s Henrik von Schneeplestein.”

Newson nodded, her suspicions confirmed. “Well, Dr. Travels is right, he’s not available.”

“What?!” Marvin gasped. “Then—then why the fuck does your website say I can visit him now?!”

“Visiting hours for residents on the first floor are only on Fridays,” Newson said calmly.

Marvin paused, pulling at the collar of his blue shirt. “Well, why couldn’t you put that on the website?”

“It is on the website, Mr. Maher.”

“I didn’t see it,” Marvin grumbled. “Maybe your website layout fucking sucks. And how do you know where Schneep’s room is?”

“Well, I am his doctor,” Newson said pointedly. “And even if I wasn’t, we have a database where that information could easily be found.”

“You’re his...?” Marvin paused. “Sorry, what’s your name, again?”

“My name is Dr. Newson.”

“Oh.” Marvin’s face scrunched in confusion. “But I thought Dr. Laurens—no, wait. I remember now, Chase said she...oh, that sucks.” He paused. “Newson? Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Is that, like, a common name...?”

“I suppose not,” Newson mused. “But if that’ll be all you wanted...” She gestured towards the front door.

Marvin stared at her. “Um...‘if that’ll be all I wanted’ what?”

A flicker of annoyance temporarily broke Newson’s professional facade. “If that’ll be all, could you please exit now? Dr. Travels has more to do.”

“Oh! Yeah, sure.” Marvin turned around, took a few steps towards the entrance, then stopped and turned back. “So, are you, like, famous or something?”

The annoyance was replaced by surprise. “I don’t think so.”

“Not even locally?”

“Well, I suppose that depends. Why?”

“I think I read the name Newson somewhere,” Marvin muttered. “Something, like...it had something to do with Christmas, I think.”

For a brief, very brief moment, Newson’s face cracked in two, her expression falling to the ground, replaced by something of loss. She quickly recovered. “I wouldn’t know about that. Now if you’ll please.” She gestured towards the entrance again.

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, I guess.” And with that, Marvin left.

Newson straightened her jacket again, and without another word, spun around and walked past Oliver, deeper into the building.

Something was up here, and Oliver had no idea what. He was sure Laurens would’ve known something, but she wasn’t here.

With a sigh, Oliver also backed deeper into the building. He had more to do today.

——————

Her head was pounding. It felt like her brain had solidified into rock, and was being thrown against her temples.

“Hello?”

She felt like a pile of noodles. Limp and weak. All her bones were gone.

“Hey lady. A-are you alive?”

Where was she? The thought passed through her head like it was swimming through fog. The last thing she could remember...the last thing she could remember...

“I mean, you’re breathing. But I...I don’t know how awake you are. Been there for a while.”

 She was at her car and...and there was that man. She thought he was Chase, but...maybe he just looked like him...

Something hit the back of her head.

Laurens opened her eyes, immediately squeezing them shut again. God, her head was pounding. Not because of the thing that hit her, that felt small and light. What was it? She cracked open her eyes again, just enough to see that she was staring at a vaguely gray wall...plaster, but unpainted. She was lying on her side, the floor cold beneath her. She groaned.

“Oh good, you’re awake. Are you okay?”

That voice...it sounded kind of familiar. But from where? Laurens didn’t answer, just groaned again.

“I’m gonna take that as a no. Who are you? How did you get here?”

Laurens squeezed her eyes shut, tears starting to rise as a blinding pain shot through her temple. She moved her arm, but found something yanked her wrist back. So she raised her other one, waving it in the direction the voice was coming from.

“Oh.” The voice was whisper-shouting now. “Should I shut up?”

She gave the voice a thumbs-up.

“Alright. Sorry.”

Laurens wasn’t sure how long it took for the hammer to stop pounding an anvil into her head. It felt like a long time. If she was forced to guess, it was fifteen minutes until it was manageable and she could open her eyes. And it felt like another half an hour before she was able to roll over and face the room at large.

She immediately recognized it as a basement—an unfinished one, with rafters overhead, dangling lightbulbs, and pillars holding up the ceiling. There were random squares of carpet on the concrete floor, but none near where she was lying. There was a door in one wall, and a small, rectangular window high on the opposite wall, with no light coming through it. A short folding table was pressed against another wall, and nearby a boxy television sat on top of a wooden pallet crate. Overall, the room was about the size of an average living room.

“Are you okay now?”

Her eyes rolled towards the voice. There was a man sitting against a support pillar on the other side of the room and—and she immediately realized why his voice was familiar. Slightly higher, and a different accent, but she understood now. The man had shoulder-length brown hair, a beard, and wide blue eyes. He wore a dirty red hoodie. This whole group...they all looked and sounded alike, didn’t they?

“Should I stop talking again?” He asked.

Laurens blinked. “No, you’re good.” Her voice rasped.

“Okay. Alright.” The man visibly relaxed. “Are you, uh...I mean, you’re probably not doing okay, but how do you feel?”

She considered this. “My head hurts,” she finally said. It sounded inadequate.

“Hm. Yeah, I think it would.” The man pursed his lips. “You, uh. Don’t look good.”

“Thanks.” She pressed a hand to her temple. The other one was still caught on something. “Who’re you?”

“My name’s Jackie.”

“Jackie Donovan?” 

His eyes widened. “How do you know my name?”

Laurens tried to sit up. The pain in her head spiked, but she was able to prop her head on her hand. “My name’s Dr. Rya Laurens. I know your friend Schneep.”

“You do?!” Jackie sat up straight, but then hesitated. “Like, do you work with him? Have...you seen him recently?”

“Yes,” Laurens confirmed.

Jackie’s eyes lit up. He leaned forward. “How is he? Is he good? What happened?”

“I’m not sure ‘good’ is the right word for it,” Laurens mumbled. “You’re probably thinking right now that...that I work with Schneep at his hospital, the one where he was a surgeon. I don’t. I work at Silver Hills.”

“Oh.” Jackie leaned back again. He bit his lip, thinking. “That’s the, uh, psych ward, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s a mental hospital, it’s not the same thing,” Laurens said.

Jackie seemed to cringe. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“So, uh...” Jackie shifted where he was sitting. “H-how is he? Are they taking care of him?”

“I mean, I suppose so,” Laurens said. “I’m his therapist. I’m certainly trying to help, but I can’t speak for everyone. And I don’t know what’s happened since I...” She frowned. “What day is it?”

“Um...” Jackie glanced over at a nearby section of wall, one within arm’s length of where he was sitting. Laurens suddenly noticed the marks on the plaster, done in what looked like blue marker. Tally marks, divided into roughly eight groups. “I think it’s the twenty-first? Of August.”

Last she checked it was the fifteenth. “It...it’s been a week,” she realized. “I don’t remember any of it.”

Jackie nodded. “That happens sometimes. Let me guess, it’s all a blur? You sort of remember being, like, aware but not thinking anything?”

“...that...yeah.” Laurens shook her head, then immediately stopped; it was making her headache worse. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

Jackie laughed hysterically. “I mean, your guess is as good as mine! If it’s been a week, he probably wants you alive! Unless he just hasn’t gotten around to it yet! By the way, can I have my Sharpie back?”

Laurens was confused, until she looked around the nearby area and saw a blue Sharpie on the ground. She picked it up and threw it in Jackie’s direction. The throw went wide. By a lot.

“Fuck,” Jackie swore. “Hang on.” He reached out to the Sharpie, leaning forward, but wasn’t quite there. With another muffled curse, Jackie crawled towards it. And it was then when Laurens noticed the cuff around his ankle, connected to the nearby pillar by a very short length of chain. Realizing this, Laurens looked back at her other hand, the one that kept being yanked back. And no wonder. She was handcuffed to a pipe.

“Got it!” Jackie grabbed the Sharpie by his fingertips, retreating back to his spot by the pillar. “Sorry. I just don’t want to lose this.”

“It’s okay,” Laurens said softly. “I get it.”

Jackie pulled at the sleeves of his hoodie. “So...I know you said you haven’t seen Schneep for a while, but how was he the last time you saw him?”

Laurens thought about that. “He was getting better. He’d just gone through a bad episode, though, so not 100% good.”

“He recovering?”

“Yes, as far as I could tell. I got him new medication, but hopefully it would decrease his symptoms.”

“Symptoms?” Jackie frowned. “Oh. Yeah, I guess he has been unmedicated for some time. Best to take care of that, before dealing with everything else.”

Now Laurens frowned. “Wait, everything else?”

“Yeah? I stopped seeing him in—” Jackie glanced at the tally marks again, counting. “—May, and you’re a therapist, so. You know. Everything else.” He waited, but Laurens still looked confused. “Um...you know. Being kidnapped isn’t going to leave someone okay—”

“Wait, he was kidnapped?!” Laurens repeated.

“Yes! Why do you think—look around at this place!” Jackie gestured at the room. “Do you think either of us are here because we want to be?! The hell did you think happened to Schneep?”

“I don’t know, he wouldn’t say anything about it, but the police assumed he left of his own—”

“Wait wait wait,” Jackie held up a hand. “So...the police don’t know about him?”

“Of course they know about Schneep. How could they not, after all...” Laurens hesitated. “You know. The things that happened.”

“No, I wasn’t talking about Schneep.” Jackie insisted. “I was talking about...him.”

The way he emphasized the him...it reminded Laurens of the way Schneep would talk. “Do you mean...the thing Schneep’s been hallucinating about?”

Jackie looked shocked. “So. They don’t know, then? Wait, do they think Hen did it all by himself?!”

Laurens looked at Jackie, puzzled. “He...didn’t?”

Jackie buried his face in his hands. He didn’t say anything for a while. “Oh my god,” he finally said, words muffled. They sounded almost like a sob. “You don’t know. No one knows, do they?”

Laurens sat up. She was beginning to figure out that things were a lot more complicated than she thought. But maybe now she could get some answers for everything. “Know what. Who...who is this he?”

Jackie looked up at her. His eyes were red, like he was about to cry. Like he’d realized something. Maybe he realized that, if the police didn’t know what was going on, there wasn’t a good chance of either of them ever being found.

“He calls himself Anti.”

[theshapeshifter100]

A Superhero’s Choice Part 1

(Working title, it’s terrible)

Okay, I’m kicking this one out of the door! It’s not my longest, or even my best work, but I had fun.

Summary-After the incident with Chase Brody, Jackieboy Man, Marvin the Magician and Angus the Survival Hunter have been trying track down what caused it. When things start kicking into gear months later, will Jackieboy Man be able to save his friends?

Word Count-2,067

Warnings- Attempted mugging, mention of a stand off, mentions of Schneep being murderous.

Jackieboy Man stood on top of one of the tallest buildings in the city, slowly turning in a circle to scan the area. He alternated between using his x-ray vision and normal vision to get a broader view.

In a city this big, something had to be happening.

A panicked scream reached his sensitive ears and he jolted to face it, scanning the area... There! Five hooded muggers, one girl roughly mid to late teens out way too late. A little cliché, but it was still worryingly common.

The scream had come from a few blocks away, and Jackieboy Man took off running in that direction. He leapt off his current roof to a lower one, letting his knees fold as he landed and rolling back up into a sprint to minimise damage. He was a superhero, yes, but not invulnerable.

Once closer he jumped and vaulted down the fire escape, barely feeling the bite of the metal through his red gloves.

He was directly above them now, and even though he kept moving, he felt the stirring of nervousness beginning to build in his belly.

He had told himself a long time ago that this was a good thing. If he no longer felt at least nervous, he’d become too cocky. Someone could get hurt that way.

The victim in all this was backing away from her muggers, clutching her bag tight as she began to hyperventilate, terror written all over her face.

“Never fear! Jackieboy Man is here!” the superhero proclaimed loudly from his perch on the fire escape. Everyone below froze and turned to look at him, but he was already moving, gracefully flipping and landing with the smoothness of a cat in front of the teenager.

“So, who’s arse am I gonna have to kick, or are we just gonna leave it here?” Jackieboy Man folded his arms at the muggers and took a step towards them. One of them decided to take a swing, a sloppy hook punch as it turned out.

Jackieboy Man blocked it with one hand, ducked under the arm so that he was behind them and kicked their ankle out from underneath them. The mugger got a face full of asphalt while Jackieboy Man kept a tight hold of their arm before turning to the rest of the gang.

“Any other takers?”

In unison the muggers took off in the other direction. Jackieboy even let the one he was holding up so that they could make a break for it, laughing as they ran.

“Maybe next time you’ll think twice before messin’ with Jackieboy Man’s city!” he declared to their retreating backs before turning to the young lady behind him. “How are ya lass?”

The girl, who was perhaps a little younger than Jackieboy had initially looked, shot him a grateful, if somewhat watery smile as what had almost happened sank in.

“Thank you,” she half choked, surprised at how much she was affected by the whole thing.

“Alright lass,” Jackieboy crouched slightly so that he was at the same level. “Yer gonna be alright,” he offered his hand. “Let’s get ya outta this alley, huh?”

The girl nodded, gently taking his hand and following him back to the main street.

“I’ve gotta get back to ta work. Ya gonna be okay from here?” he asked, and the girl nodded, smiling wider now.

“Thanks again!” she called as she began to walk away, and Jackieboy disappeared back into the alley to get back up to a bird’s eye view.

 Jackieboy Man yawned from his post, walking around to ease up the stiffness in his limbs. Dawn was almost here and it had been a mostly uneventful night. There had been that mugging, then only one attempted hold up at a general store, but the police had gotten to that before him. That had been okay, Jackieboy wasn’t exactly a fan of being shot.

The sun was starting to wake up, and while Jackieboy Man usually waited until it was properly light before finishing, he was tempted to call it an early night.

As the thought crossed his mind, he heard a scream.

“Sod’s Law,” he sighed, half joking to himself. He loved his work really.

He turned in the direction of the scream and did a preliminary scan with x-ray vision before making his way over with a sigh. Not an emergency this time, but he’d better get over there before people started screaming about the zombie apocalypse.

It didn’t take him long to get down to street level and get to where the commotion was. He still had to fight through the fleeing crowd, but usually the bright red suit was enough to get people to move out of the way.

“Robbie! Robbie!” the superhero called out, trying to catch the zombie’s attention before he wandered off. This happened at least once a month, but thankfully no one had panicked too much about it. Yet.

“Robbie!” Jackieboy had found him, and made a mistake of grabbing the zombie’s arm. It almost detached from his shoulder and Jackieboy let go, trying to clamp on the shudder of disgust. Thankfully it got Robbie’s attention, and purple and white striped jumper wearing zombie turned to face the superhero, face splitting into a grin, gurgling in glee.

He couldn’t quite talk, but that didn’t always stop him from trying.

“Robbie, what are ya doing out and about at this hour?”

Robbie went into thought before his mouth began moving sluggishly to try and form a word. It seemed like it began with J, so Jackieboy took it to be his own moniker.

“Yes, yes, it’s me. Jackieboy Man Look, let’s get ya to Schneep to fix up that arm o’ yours.”

There was some confusion on the zombie’s face, but Jackieboy Man steered him in the direction of Schneep’s apartment. This early in the morning, it was going to be fun.

The lift binged once it reached the appropriate floor, and Robbie got out himself, recognising where he was and where he needed to go. His arm was now hanging limply in his jumper, only held roughly in place by the material, although it didn’t seem to bother him.

This early in the morning, Jackieboy didn’t bother with ringing the doorbell or knocking on the door, Scheep either wouldn’t open up or threaten to kill him, maybe both. So Jackieboy lifted up the half dead potted plant and pulled out the spare key. He then rolled his eyes at Robbie.

“I keep tellin’ ‘im to put it somewhere safer.”

Robbie grunted in what could be taken as agreement and Jackieboy opened the door, revealing the dark apartment. Robbie shambled in while Jackieboy found the light switch and he closed the door behind him.

Robbie got himself settled in Schneep’s office/makeshift surgery while Jackieboy made his way to the kitchen. He knew better than to get Schneep to do anything without a strong cup of coffee, and frankly, he needed one too.

The noise of the coffee machine roused Schneep from his room, making the German stumble half blindly into the kitchen.

“... Vhat are you doing here?” he groused before Jackieboy handed him a steaming mug of coffee.

“I’m not answering that until ya drink yer coffee.”

Scheep grumbled under his breath before taking a long swig of joe, Jackieboy sipping his more cautiously.

“At least you are not bleeding all over my kitchen,” Schneep commented. “Again.”

“Quiet night,” Jackieboy shrugged before taking a swig of coffee. It was relaxing around Schneep, when he wasn’t feeling murderous; he didn’t expect Jackieboy to have his usual swagger.

“You did not answer my question though,” Scheep put his empty mug on the counter and quickly reached for the machine to get another mug. “Vhy are you here?”

“Robbie’s arm’s come off. He’s in your office.”

Scheep sighed heavily and pressed his forehead against the coffee machine as it did it’s work, not moving until he had another mug of fuel ready to go.

“It is too early for zis,” he took his mug and left the kitchen Jackieboy following behind. Schneep was good, but this early in the morning, he wanted to make sure that he didn’t try to send Robbie back to whence he came.

Unlikely, admittedly, but the good doctor was a little, unpredictable, first thing in the morning.

Robbie grinned as Schneep and Jackieboy entered, seemingly oblivious to the doctor’s mood.

“You do not have to vatch me,” Scheep complained as he prepared his equipment. “It is not like I can kill him twice.”

“I’ve got nowhere else to be yet,” Jackieboy took another swig from his coffee and Schneep rolled his eyes before getting to work. Robbie’s jumper was off, revealing greying, half falling off bits of torso.

“Marvin hasn’t been keeping that spell up to date, has he?” Jackieboy asked Robbie, who shook his head.

“He has been doing some training,” Schneep informed, starting work on the stitching. “Zat is vhy Robbie is vith me.”

“Right,” Jackieboy looked at his now empty mug of coffee, debating whether to get another one.

“Go home Jay,” Scheep sighed, startling Jackieboy for a second. “You have been up all night, and ein coffee is not going to help you. Go home, sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak!” Jackieboy declared, smirking at the doctor’s back.

“Keep that up and you’ll be deader zhan Robbie. Go home Jay, I have zis in hand.”

“Alright doc,” Jackieboy forced back a yawn before getting up and putting the mug back in the kitchen. He debated washing it up, but decided to follow the doctor’s orders.

 A few hours later, Jay O’Loughlin was jolted awake by his alarm and with a groan rolled over and slammed his hand on the snooze button, shutting it off.

He then opened his eyes, blinking blearily at the digital display, before groaning again and sitting up. He grabbed his glasses and shoved them on his face before properly getting out of bed.

It was daytime, therefore, he was not Jackieboy Man, defender of the innocent and hero to all. He was Jay O’Loughlin, programmer and coder. Not as interesting, but that was okay, it wasn’t especially difficult, and it provided excellent means to do something else hero related.

As he made himself breakfast his eyes drifted to the phone, but first...

He grabbed the landline and dialled a familiar number, the same number he had dialled every morning for nearly half a year now.

“ello? Angus ‘ere.”

“Hey Angus, it’s Jay.”

“Oh, hey Jay, nothin’ ta report?” asked the Australian, slowly turning back to Irish, accented voice on the other end.

“Nope, nothing with you?”

“Zip. Chase is doin’ alright.”

“Good,” Jay poured himself some coffee, and after a thought, some fruit juice to balance it out. “I’ll come down when I have time.”

“Sure ya will mister superhero,” Angus chuckled. “I’m guessin yer still too busy to keep an eye on Chase?”

“Yeah, sorry bro.”

“I’m going crazy! I love him and all, but the kid does not wanna go outside, ever! I might end up killin’ ‘im myself!”

“We both know ya won’t do that,” Jay reminded him, taking a bite of toast. “And we both know why you’re the one lookin’ after him.”

“I know, I know. Catch ya later.”

“See ya,” Jay hung up and put the phone back in its dock, toast still hanging from his mouth. He got a glance at the time and cursed. He needed to go soon, and he wasn’t even properly dressed yet!

Ten minutes later Jay burst out of his front door, laptop bag on his back and dressed in slacks and a button up shirt. Running a hand through dark brown, half heartedly brushed hair he began to power walk to his place of work, trying not to appear too rushed.

As he passed the nearest coffee shop and paused, certain he’d seen something out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Six months ago, he’d have brushed that off, now, it sent shudders down his spine. It might have been nothing, it might have been his sleep deprived, caffeine hyped brain playing tricks on him, but he knew better than to ignore it entirely.

Shaking his head, he walked on. He needed to get to work.

A/N

So, quick explanation, Sean doesn’t exist in this universe. Also I don’t think there‘s a civilian name for Jackieboy Man, and I didn’t want it to be Sean McLoughlin, so I went for a similar surname (I actually knew someone with that surname) and a first name that just fit. I don’t know if Angus has a canon surname, if he does, too bad. (Fun fact, I looked at an Irish surname website and it claimed that ‘McLoughlin’ means ‘Viking’. Don’t know how accurate this is, but it’s a fun idea)

Jackieboyman’s powers I got from the wiki, I don’t have the patience to trawl through the videos he’s in to try and analyse the character. In fact, nearly all of these characters are my own interpretation of them.

Finally, there are 12 chapters plus epilogue. Not all the chapters are the same length, I did try, but it didn’t always fit with what was happening in the story.

I think that’s it, this is my first time posting a story on this site, so I’m going off of other story formats that I’ve seen here. If there’s any questions, you know where to go.

[95fangirl]

This is beautiful. Oh the feels.

Midnight Masquerade

((In which (Actor) Mark finally puts on that masquerade with the help of Jack and their combined egos. It’s to be a night of fun, dancing, and mystery, even without the arrival of a certain unexpected guest. Near the end there is a reference to the song “Remember Me” from Coco, and the version I had in mind is the cover by The Hound + The Fox, if only because it had a nice blend of slow and fast (the original version is awesome, but might be a little too upbeat here XD).

Warnings: There is no Maskiplier in this story, so no warnings this time except for the usual angst. This is the last planned story for the whole Can You Wake Up? series though, and there are a lot of references to the other stories here so it may be a little confusing if this is the first one you’re reading.

It’s definitely on the long side, but it felt better to keep it all in one post instead of cutting it up, so…*shrugs*))

When you arrived at the dance hall with Amy, Tyler, and Ethan, the four of you found the massive room already bustling with activity as Mark, Jack, and almost all of their egos finished up their share of last-minute preparations before the guests arrived. Said room looked more like a ballroom from an overblown Victorian-style mansion than some place they had rented for the night, with vaulted ceilings, shining floors, (faux) marble columns, doors that swung out onto balconies that overlooked the hillside and the city down below, the whole nine yards.

The stage on the far side of the room looked almost out of place with the microphone stands and the DJ equipment, not to mention all of the speakers strewn up around the place which the Googles were doing final sound checks on while you and the others walked over to the long tables just inside the entrance where a couple of egos were arguing over arrangements.

“This should be the last of the masks,” Amy said as you and Tyler put your boxes down on the nearby chairs, as there wasn’t any room left on the tables for them. “Definitely more than enough for everyone who’s coming and then some.”

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