#mick lauer egos

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Day 4: Burst Vessels

(Disclaimer: two of the characters in this story belong to me. For more information on Garret, go here. For more information on The Newcomer, go here. For my personal headcanons on Murdock, who belongs to the Markiplier Cinematic Universe, go here. And if you’d like to learn more about the mob these guys all work for, go here.)

(As usual, I got tons of help developing the main character of this story from the amazing @sammys-magical-au ! Please go check out their blog and stories!)

(Trigger Warnings:  blood/gore, murder/death, strangulation, descriptions of illegal business, mentions of animal cruelty, mentions of gambling, mentions of alcohol, superstition/paranoia, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7

___

As usual, the alleyway was dark. It was kept in the casino’s shadow during the day, and by night, the towering lights built in the parking lot simply couldn’t reach all the way back here. 

The only technical source of illumination was the thin glow that outlined the back door that led to the storage room, and even that was dim and flickering. 

Nothing at all like the radiance of the playing floor, where wide pendant lamps hung over tables to cast the dealers in a sort halo. 

Where the rows of slot machines on one side of the joint all practically thrummed with vibrant colors that blinked in programmed patterns.

Even so, the shadows weren’t too much of a problem. Garret’s schedule was nocturnal more than half of the time, after all. 

A staticey, prickly sensation began to flicker in-between Garret’s fingers as he applied more pressure. It didn’t take very long for the feeling to become somewhat similar to how a Charlie Horse felt in the leg muscles, but it wasn’t going to stop him. 

He simply ground his jaw and pushed the pain aside, squeezing at his impromptu target’s neck even tighter than before. 

The other man’s skin no longer felt pliable, the way human flesh should feel. Instead, it now reminded him of leather. Oddly warm leather that was wracked with an obvious, struggling pulse. 

So long as you were strong enough, choking could knock out the average person in as little as ten seconds. And, in a way, that had already happened here.

But Garret refused to let the unconsciousness truly take hold.

That was why he kept making ever-so-slight adjustments to his grip. 

He wanted to force the target’s eyelids to keep desperately fluttering, to make him keep writhing in his clutch, to make keep trying and ultimately failing to get enough oxygen. 

This target was a fucking scumbag, and Garret wanted to see when he died.

___

“So.” The deep, questioning tone of Garret’s voice all but drowned out the little chorus of clink-clink-clinks shuffling through the yarn in his hands. The knitting needles gently swayed to and fro as he made the finishing touches to the small, human-esque figure that lay on his desk. 

Unless you counted the pale green tint of its material, the doll was completely featureless. Blank. 

…Of course, it certainly wouldn’t stay that way. Voodoo dolls needed to resemble certain people, after all. As of right now, Garret wasn’t aware of anyone nearby who needed a little dose of that kind of misfortune, but it never hurt to have a template ready to go. 

“You want to start out for the night? Or do you want a little extra practice?” He asked, looking over at the figure who sat on the opposite side of his desk.

The same one who he’d been instructing on the rules of certain games, how to properly deal, how to properly play…as well as how to cheat at those same games without getting caught. 

Despite this, it’d been impossible for Garret to not get up and pace just for an excuse to look over his guest’s shoulder each time they wrote. For at least the sixty-nine-thousandth time, an itch had manifested somewhere in the back of Garret’s mind. An itch strong enough to be reminiscent of a brainiac tick who’d discovered that a blend of salt and poison ivy could be to bugs what crack-cocaine was to humans. 

That itch was the reason he’d survived so long in the underground business, had been welcomed into The Pentas  Family, had discovered more than a few wannabe moles before they could cause trouble…

So far, however, The Newcomer really had been jotting down notes, just like they said they would. They’d dedicated a few blank pages to gambling etiquette, sets of rules, varying card values for games, obvious tells and how to avoid them, etc. 

With a nod, The Newcomer closed their journal with a small snap! and slid it into the backpack they’d brought along (the fabric was which was white and black, boasted a print that portrayed a hodge-podge of newspapers).

There was a flicker of anxiety in their gray eyes, but that still mixed well with their curious energy. “I think I’m ready.”

“Alright, then.” Garret nodded, pushing the half-finished voodoo doll into a drawer, where it would patiently wait for the day someone fucked around and found out enough. He stood up from his chair, cracking his knuckles as he strode over to the door, holding it open for The Pentas Family’s freshest member. 

Technically speaking, Murdock was responsible for mentoring The Newcomer…but then, part of that mentoring did involve introducing them to his accomplices, having them learn all the mob’s various ways of business. It wouldn’t hurt anyone for him to leave them with a colleague while he focused on something else. 

Besides, the social-anxiety-incarnate mask he wore to hide his true self in public wouldn’t exactly fit in with the atmosphere of a place like Itchy Palms.

(Sure, casinos were kinda-sorta infamous for having customers stumble out in a cold seat, filled the air with panicked muttering about how they’re going to pay for a mortgage or whatever, but still.)

The cacophony of whooping and hollering, electronic jingling and buzzing, even the smallest dice plunking down on tables seemed to drown out footsteps against the marble floor.

Garret led The Newcomer down the corridor, moving further and further away from his office until the two of them turned a corner, facing the wide, crowded space that seemed to stretch on and on. 

Employees, all dressed in uniforms that were almost similar to Garret’s typical attire (a white vest over a silvery button-down and black slacks. The main difference was that, where they had bowties, Garret had his hand-made, maroon-dyed scarf.), flitted about the chaos. Some were manning the tables, others were carrying trays full of drinks to the gamblers at said tables. 

Watching a random customer carrying a few handfuls of chips close to their chest as they weaved through the crowd, Garret remembered to reach into his own pocket, tracing his fingertips along the edges of the glass Evil Eye charm he never left the house without. He kept walking, and The Newcomer kept pace beside him.

“Which game do you want to try first?” He wondered aloud, glancing at his charge and gesturing to all the options. 

The Newcomer pursed their lips, carefully glancing about. They folded their arms across their chest and drummed their scarlet-gloved nails against one bicep. “…How about Poker?”

Garret hummed. “Good choice.” Having memorized the layout of the floor, he hooked a left to guide them over to the table in question.

…Or, what they could see of the table, at least. A crowd of customers had gathered around it to watch the current game. It was already occupied by a batch of six players, all shifting in their seats and watching as the dealer shuffled the deck. 

Once he was close enough, Garret opted to lean against the wall, careful not to touch any of the decorative paintings and photographs that were displayed on it. “Let’s wait a minute. When the session is over, I’ll give that dealer an early break and run it myself.” 

The Newcomer nodded. “And once the current players leave, I should sit on the far-right, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Garret replied with a smirk. 

When it came to poker, the rules could vary from location to location. But the cards were almost always dealt in a counter-clockwise fashion. The person on the right would get some extra time to, say, subtly watch the other players. Wait for a card they wanted. Pretend to drop something on the floor so they could hide a good card under their leg until they were ready to use it. That kind of stuff.  

The Newcomer rocked back and forth on their heels. “So, uh…you want to play Pool while we’re waiting? Or maybe darts? They both look fun, and I’ve been hoping to practice at either, but I just haven’t gotten a chance until now.” 

Garret tilted his head. Part of the way he squinted at them was appraisal, since it seemed they  weren’t much better with awkwardness than he was. (Which was WAY more of a relief that he cared to admit.)

Another part, meanwhile, wondered if they’d suggested darts because they’d just cooked up some harebrained scheme to earn an extra stripe via giving him an extremely unconventional nipple-piercing. 

Just before he could respond to their idea (whatever it truly was), however, he felt a quick, small tap against his shoulder.

After flinching, he looked over to discover that one of his younger employees—she was part a group of college students who’d coming looking for summer jobs, and therefore NOT one of his in-the-know workers—had come to hover a couple feet away. 

“Ah, Mr. Wyre? Sir?” She asked. “I really hope I’m not interrupting anything, but…I think we’ve got a situation going on outside.” 

Garret had been about to reassure her, but that made him give pause. As everyone needed to somewhat raise their voice to be heard in here, it took no time at all to hear the generous dose of nervousness lacing her tone. “...What kind of situation?”

“Attempted trespassing, I think? Maybe loitering and vandalism, too?” The employee then heaved a sigh. “...He’s back. I managed to keep him out while I was working the door, but he clearly hasn’t left yet. His car’s still in the lot, and I’m pretty sure he’s somewhere out back…”

Garret’s lip curled into a slight snarl as he realized exactly who she meant by that. 

A huffy, greasy man who was definitely the subject of many online stories courtesy of the dealers who were subjected to him. While he wasn’t the first person ever placed on Itchy Palms’ blacklist, that still wasn’t saying much. 

In the span of one evening, he’d made sure to A. nearly damage one of the chip-machines beyond repair in an effort to claim he hadn’t been given the correct amount, B. spew all sorts of filth toward several dealers until he had an opportunity to throw a couple drinks on one, C. pissing himself all over the seat, and D. try to outrun the consequences of his actions, only to end up getting himself caught because he apparently just couldn’t resist grabbing a shoe that had happened to fall off of one woman’s foot during a game of Blackjack, then ducking into the men’s restroom to huddle in a corner and lick the inside of said shoe like a popsicle. 

All that wasn’t even his first rode; that was just the night he’d gotten the third strike, AKA an excuse to literally kick him through the main entrance and onto the pavement outside. 

…And yet, Garret could never remember his name. So, to compensate, he called him Blister Ass, because the only way to accurately describe the guy’s personality and mannerisms was to simply think of a sentient hemorrhoid. 

With a sigh of his own, Garret corrected his posture and nodded. “Alright, then. I’ll take care of this.” 

“Thank you,” the employee murmured before scurrying off back to their shift. 

(Now, most people might think poorly of her for not asking to call the police. But then, those people should remind themselves what kind of business she’s working for. Gambling was legal in the Cove Port Inlets, which meant that the cops hardly ever bothered with the place. Or several other places, for that matter. Besides, even if the entrance to Garret’s abandoned-subway-tunnel-den well-hidden, having to deal with cops definitely wouldn’t do his nerves any favors.)

Rolling his shoulders, Garret started walking yet again. He crossed the playing floor, strolling up a light ramp that led into a practical field of slot machines.

All the while, The Newcomer followed him a bit like a puppy, because...well, they'd been sent here to learn some tricks from Garret. Where else were they supposed to go at the moment?

After maneuvering through the rows of glowing, buzzing money-devourers, the two of them found themselves sidling behind the cocktail bar and into the storage room behind it.

Sure enough, as they drew closer to the back door, as the choir of chaos that no casino could really exist without got more and more muffled, Garret's ears picked up on shuffling and crashing that seemed to echo through the alleyway outside.

But that wasn't what made him quicken his pace and use a bit more force than strictly necessary to fidget with his scarf.

No, that honor went to the sick, wheezing, perverted-sounding laughter that he caught alongside the din...as well as a bout of yowling.

A high-pitched, non-human cry of pain and fear that was gut-wrenchingly unmistakable...

___

Finally, Garret felt Blister Ass’ throat collapse. 

He felt tendons tearing loose, felt the thyroid cave in on itself with a uniquely soft combination of pop and crunch. To anyone else, the sound would have been nauseating. But to him, it was just business as usual. 

Even if this particular hit had been neither assigned to him by The Boss nor ordered a client who was willing to agree to one of The Pentas Family’s contracts. Still, Garret knew this would be profitable in the end. Although Caliban and his organ-trafficking skills were out of town at the moment, that didn’t mean his other peers couldn’t help take care of such things…well, except for anything inside Blister Ass’ neck, that is.

Blister Ass’ head partially lolled to the side, his mouth gaped open as pulpy blood came pouring out. More dark, metallic fluid—Garret knew by instinct that it was crimson, but it looked black in the darkness—started to pour from his nostrils and ears. 

It all dribbled down the target’s skin and clothes, eventually trickling over Garret’s hands.

 It felt hot and slimy and awful, but he barely noticed. He wasn’t going to release his grasp just yet.

Not…until…

Garret leaned closer to his target, forcing him to maintain eye-contact. It was this closeness that allowed him to hear how some tiny, fleshy structure went snap! just behind Blister Ass’ bulging eyes. 

One by one, the vessels inside those horrified, watery orbs burst. The sclera white tissues were quickly clouded over as red spots seeped through from the inside, growing and spreading until they were both completely red. 

As if on their own accord, droplets of blood squeezed their way through Blister Ass’ tear-ducts, soon forming a pair of thin, glistening rivers to slide down his face and join the rest of the mess. Barely a second later, the man’s eyes finally, finally rolled back up into his skull. 

There. 

That was it.

Garret loosened his aching fingers, drawing his hands back. The corpse slide down against the old concrete wall he’d been pinned against. He crumpled into a heap, still gurgling, but not twitching.

The odd sense of calm he typically felt when carrying out jobs was already beginning to fade, slowly-but-surely letting his usual paranoia to spread its roots through his system.

He spent a second or two scowling at the stains on his hands…only to stiffen as he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. 

The Newcomer sidled closer, lowering their head to signal cautious respect as they held out one hand toward it. Upon closer examination, he realized that a clean handkerchief waiting in their scarlet-gloved grasp. 

“Oh, thanks,” Garret murmured, plucking the cloth by one corner before scrubbing at the mess on his knuckles. 

“No problem,” The Newcomer replied, a small smile creeping across their face.

That smile crumpled, however, as a low, soft mrrowhh seeped into the air. They readjusted both hands, keeping their movement slow and gentle as they looked down at the shape Garret now realized was being cradled to their chest.

A little black cat huddled just below The Newcomer’s collar, shivering badly, its ears flat, its yellow eyes wide and frightened and hurt.

A hollow ache sear through Garret’s stomach. He took a careful step closer, leaning down to examine the feline. “...Do you think anything is broken?”

The Newcomer shrugged, swallowing a visible lump in their throat. “It doesn’t feel like anything is out of place, but I can’t be sure.” They hesitated, then slowly extended their arms, offering the tiny bundle of dark fur to Garret. 

Garret didn’t question this. Didn’t even think about questioning this, or about how surprising this act was for him, considering his typical superstitions. 

But then, he’d never believed in the stigma surrounding black cats. As far as he was concerned, black cats were just as innocent as any other domestic animal. 

Black cats didn’t deserve to be pinned against cold concrete with a grimey boot pressing down on their tails while the sick son of a bitch attached to said boot slapped at their little faces… 

The cat’s fur was warm against his (now clean, thankfully) palms. He carefully titled it—uh, her to and fro, checking to see if he could find any lacerations, or if any legs looked to be at an unnatural angle. 

After a moment, he sighed and untied the knot of his scarf, carefully adjusting it to make a sort of blanket-cocoon for the feline. 

Trying to keep his breathing under control, Garret watched as The Newcomer quietly slid their backpack off their shoulders, rummaging through own of its pockets until they fished out a spare body-bag. 

They must’ve heard the approving hum on Garret’s part, as they mentioned, “I texted the cleanup-crew when you were starting on him. They should be here in about ten minutes or so.”

“Damn,” Garret said, unable to help but grin; even if they still had a lot to learn, it was clear that Murdock had been training them well.

He then cleared his throat. “Well, we’re gonna have to keep watch until they arrive.”

“I figured.” The Newcomer made a lame-gesture. 

There was silence for the next couple minutes. 

“So…” Garret chewed his lip, glancing back down at the black kitten. “Would you mind if we picked up on your game-practice another day?” 

The Newcomer blinked, but an air of understanding soon flickered through their features. The local veterinary clinic was just a few blocks away, after all. 

(Plus, Garret could never just go directly home after a job. That would just be asking for something to go wrong along the way.)

“Yeah, I’ve got no problem with that.” They reached over to carefully stroke one finger along the kitten’s head. “...Are you gonna keep her?”

“Ah—I’m not sure,” Garret answered, shifting in place. That statement was a lie; he already knew that he didn’t want to let go of her. Not for a long, long time. Not until he knew that she was in a place that was nice and secure…

The Newcomer seemed to almost read his mind, because they offered a playful smirk. “Well, if you do, Snare might have an occasional playmate. Wouldn’t that be adorable?” 

A rare chuckle fluttered through Garret’s teeth. 

“...Yeah, it would,” he admitted.

“Plus, I’ve always heard that rabbit's feet are pretty lucky,” The Newcomer went on. 

“Even if Snare’s a hare?” Garret asked, raising an eyebrow. “Even if Cal would eviscerate anyone who tried using him to test that theory out?”

“Hey, whoa, I never implied anything like that.” The Newcomer held out their hands in a defensive gesture. “No-one ever said that notion can’t work when the foot is still attached to the lapin. I feel like they would be even better for warding off bad juju.”

Something ticklish manifested in Garret’s mind, only to creep down his neck and settle on top of his heart. 

“Juju…” He echoed, looking back down at the kitten, who kept cuddling closer to him, her shivers finally seeming to slow down a bit. 

@sammys-magical-au @flaming-dolph16

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

If I may add on, @sammys-magical-au...

___

Engineer Mark: I don’t feel so good. . .Why are all my limbs slack? Why can’t I move my eyes? Why can’t I move my mouth? Is this an internal dialogue? I can’t see the end of the horizon— Murdock: *enters from around the corner* Engineer Mark: MURDOCK MALLORY! Is that you?! Have you come to put me out of my misery?! Please! I don’t like feeling like a slack three-dimensional model! Murdock: *hums* You’re gonna have to beg a little bit harder than that, motherfucker. Engineer Mark: PLEASE! PLEeEAaAsE! This is NOT the kind of existence I can keep— Murdock: What will you give me. . ? Engineer Mark: I will give you the satisfaction of snuffing out another life! Please, just this once! Murdock: Eh, I’m not sure that’s enough— Woody/Camp Counselor Mark: Hey, what’s goin’ on over here, pals? Is that fucking Murdock Mallory? Woody/Camp Counselor Mark: *gapes at Engineer Mark*. . .Are you aSKING FOR DEATH FROM MURDOCK MALLORY?! Murdock: Yep! Woody/Camp Counselor Mark: ME NEXT, ME NEXT, ME NEXT! Murdock: *hums* . . .Maaaaybe. . .

___

Gunther: *on Earth sometime before the Invincible II’s voyage, hanging out in a sauna at the crew’s training center* It is hot as hell in this fucking ass hot ass room I’m in— Gunther: *looks out the window and notices Garret Wyre walking around somewhat suspiciously* Gunther: —IS THAT THE FANMADE STRANGLER-MOBSTER?!?

___

(ᵢ ₖₙₒw ₐₙₒₜₕₑᵣ ₘₑₘₑ ₜₕₐₜ wₒᵤₗd ₐₗₛₒ fᵢₜ wₑₗₗ ₐₙd ₘₐₖₑ ₜₕᵢₛ ᵢₙₜₒ ₐ ₙᵢcₑ ₗᵢₜₜₗₑ ₜᵣᵢfₑcₜₐ ₛₒ ₕₑᵣₑ yₒᵤ gₒ 😉)

[A surprisingly calm evening in Theory Manor; all of the canon EgoPats are having dinner together]

Mack: A nice, typical fandom dinner. Hahahaha— *looks down the table and notices Caliban sitting near the end* AAAAAUUUGH! Caliban: *raises an eyebrow, casually eating something that actually doesn’t appear to be human flesh*

___

I feel like the “I can’t see the end of the horizon- HATSUNE MIKU?!?” and the “it is hot as hell in this fucking ass hot ass room I’m in- IS THAT THE GRIM REAPER?!?” audios both have the same vibe

[lukasspookas]

Them redraw

[diduche]

I finished my fan art of AHWM ! I’m proud of it and I hope mark gonna like it :) @markiplier

[strawberryamanita]

I'm posting this as an OP because I want it to show up in the tags

@accidentallye-m-o @ghostcats-random-hubworld @lilacrosemary Wish granted!

---

So it's not like a "theory" or whatever, it's essentially just a headcanon that I'm using to cope. I was pretty quick to accept that Unus and Annus are gone, even though the grief is hitting me in small waves(you'd think that I'd be a bit more livid, considering how emotional I am, but surprisingly I'm a quiet griever in most situations); and one of the bigger reasons is that I know they don't have to be gone completely.

It's like I said in my eulogy: they're gone canonically, but Canon doesn't stop fandoms. There are plenty of canonically-dead characters that live on through fanart, fanfics, AUs and RPs; it's not like it's illegal to talk about a character who's gone from their story's timeline.

Furthermore, Unus Annus came partially from Mark's mind, and as we know the characters* don't fully die in the pocket-dimension they exist in. We've seen Wilford be fatally shot. Dark died twice. The Actor's whole origin story has to do with him experiencing multiple deaths, both on- and off-screen. Who's to say Unus and Annus aren't in the "Upside-Down" now, waxing poetic about death to anyone who will listen, coming up with wacky projects and daredevil stunts, and the like?

(AND who's to say that poor, sweet Eric Derekson fully died from that paragliding accident? Please, let me see him one more time, I miss that lil bugger--)

Death isn't about disappearing, not in that plane of existence. They just moved on somewhere else... at least for me.

*Unus being played by Ethan is irrelevant, because Detective Abe and Warden Murderslaughter are played by Mick, Prof. Beauregard is played by Rosanna, etc. It's also irrelevant that Unus was created by Ethan, because so was Heapass, and he also exists in Mark's little brain-world. The idea of owning characters is irrelevant, even though Mark established this world.

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

You do make a pretty good point there.

There's the thing, though: as capable as Gunther is shown to be, he's also just too damn trigger-happy for his own good. (I still love him as a character, though. Mick really outdid himself on this project, lol)

Remember that one path where we go back to ship, and everything SEEMS normal, but all the crew leads are just talking and staring in that obviously-suspicious-and-threatening way?

When we chatted with Gunther, he ended the conversation with, "Don't worry, Captain! I'm sure I'll find something else to shoot!"

...And then he just. Went ahead and shot a random crew member.

I feel that scene was particularly interesting, as it showed that, while all of the crew leads are capable in their own ways...they're also just as vulnerable to corruption. Like you said: they're regular humans. And regular humans are very much imperfect beings.

(Plus, in the dictator path, I'm pretty sure Gunther was leading the firing squad that Mack sicced on us for our execution—)

So, i'm rewatching ISWM, and i kinda thought about something.

Gunther is likely the most intimidating of all the 'Lost' crew[as in, Celci, Gunther, and Burt[and Mark, too] from the THINK OF THE COLONISTS endings and stuff]. Why?

Gunther has an actual firearm, a 1911[likely in .45 ACP]. I mean, what do the laser weapons in ISWM do?

Bingo, they merely incapacitate you, they merely create a shallow wound, which only really hurts due to the....idk, heat of the laser? I dunno.

Bottom line, LostCrew Gunther is the most threatening out of ISWM's antagonists, not only because he's merely genuinly doing what's right, he's not using some space magic or sci fi thing, he genuinly has just the things avaliable to him. I swear, he would/could probably be a better leader than we/the captain really was, if you do consider where he's coming from. He seems to have been the only one to not lose his mind after jumping into the wormhole. He's not just someone with magical powers or whatever, he's a regular human, like us.

I can elaborate if it made no sense lol-

tags; @insane4fandoms @wouldntyou-liketoknow

[shmetective]

Best friends doing friend things 

[ghostjive]

Colonel… If you can hear this… You better run.

[pencilpat]

Choking on the Truth // Suffocated by Your Memories

白菊 \ Shiragiku \ Chrysanthemum(White) \ Truth

彼岸花 / 曼珠沙華 \ Higanbana / Manjushage \ Red Spider Lily \ Never to meet again/Lost memory/Abandonment (click for better quality)

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

This little crossover thing keeps getting more and more interesting. . .

(Nice job with these ideas, btw!!!)

I just had a thought that mostly applies for my au (the who killed markiplier and escape the night crossover).

Rosanna the Jet Setter has got to be super rich, right?

That's literally what a Jet Setter does. They have so much money that they can travel the world and go to social events that most people couldn't go to.

So I just have this scene in mind for the fan fiction im making about my AU.

Abe: Mat? Why is there a helicopter outside?

Mat: hm? Oh.... oh!

Ro: *sticking her head out the window, holding and wearing some expensive things* Hi Mat! I just came back from Singapore! Did you know that their Airports have movie theaters there?

[nekiawolf]

OK SO THEORIES FOR MARK

So as most of us probably saw, there's a teaser on Mark's instagram for a continuation (I'm guessing) of the WKM storyline involving Wilford and, most likely, Dark set in the 70's, as shown by his afro and the line, "Put on your dancing shoes" in the font most associated with the 70's.

Now I've seen a lot of speculation that it was Jack's hand in the teaser, but... unfortunately that's actually Mick Lauer, the guy who plays the Detective in WKM.

BUT... who's to say that Jack won't play a character in the new storyline? A lot of people have said that Anti or JJ might appear and while that would be an incredibly amazing crossover, I don't think Jack and Mark's egos would crossover storylines.

Think about it, Jack has been trying to come up with a coherent storyline between all the egos before the end of the year for the video he wants to make (and maybe he has, he's just been very quiet about it), while Mark already has some things set in stone about his egos.

But again, that doesn't mean they can't appear in each other's video for it. I honestly believe that Jack will appear as a character for Mark's storyline, my only guess that could probably make sense?

A spy for the Detective

I'm pretty sure that after the events of WKM, William now Wilford, doesn't trust the Detective with every fiber of his being, but he needs someone to trust, someone who could help get revenge on the Detective who took away his friends and made him lose his sanity. Insert Jack's character, someone (who might be a version of JJ, but isn't actually JJ) who agrees to help him, but in reality works for the Detective and is feeding him information on Wilford's whereabouts and plans.

That's pretty much all I got for now, as there isn't much to go off of, but hey if anyone wants to debunk anything or correct me on some stuff, let me know. Again it is just a theory, so don't take this too seriously, I just love theories.

Can't wait to see how this pans out 💙💙

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Garret Wyre

(I’ve already made an information post like this, but said post is pretty long; in fact, it’ll just get longer and more expansive as I develop new characters and stories for [The Future Mob Project]. And I’m worried that the sheer length will make readers lose interest when they click on a link to look for a specific character. So, I’ll be making separate information pages for each character while still maintaining the all-inclusive post. Got it? Good.) 

Who He’s Based Off Of: Mick Lauer 

His Method of Work: If there’s two things to be said about Garret, it’s that he has a pair of big, strong hands, and he knows how to use them. You could argue that “Everyone knows how to use their hands, idiot.” To which I say. . .first of all, chill out. Words can hurt. Second of all, not everyone can make a career out of strangling people. But Garret most certainly has. That being said, he knows when to use other tools  (ropes, scarves, cords, etc.) to get the job done. He knows he can’t realistically rely on his hands for each and every one of his assignments. In any case, the day his grip isn’t firm is the day he’s not Garret.

Red Attire: Scarf (Maroon)

Notes:

Garret brings a complex vibe to The Pentas Family. His disposition is stern, but he knows to be patient with the other members. Despite this, he’s always a bit. . .fidgety. Restless. He has a hard time sitting still, and an even harder time not giving people the side-eye or glancing over his shoulder. In fact, the only times he seems genuinely calm and self-assured is when he’s choking the life out of his targets. Sure, he still acts aggressively toward said targets, but there’s no denying just how soft and quiet his voice becomes when he taunts them.

His hobbies outside of mob work include sewing and knitting. It just seems to ease his nerves a bit. He even made the very scarf he wears whenever he’s working on Pentas business. This also bleeds into the fact that Garret is on the superstitious side. Half of his sewing/knitting projects involve making voodoo dolls of those who screw around with The Pentas Family. He treats said dolls a lot like stress toys, often patching them up after bashing their stuffing out only to do it all over again sooner or later.

He very much believes in the concept of luck. Quite ironic, considering he was born on a Tuesday The 13th (look it up; apparently those are even worse than Friday The 13ths). He doesn't bother with all the chakra-crystal-incense stuff, but he does keep a glass Evil Eye charm in one pocket, as well a miniature horseshoe in the other. He never goes directly home right after taking care of a target. He avoids the number four like the plague. He makes sure his right foot is leading whenever he enters a room. Et cetera, et cetera. 

One of the few superstitions he doesn’t believe in is black cats being harbingers of doom. In fact, he adores black cats. Particularly Juju, a stray kitten he adopted after a very last-minute, impromptu hit-job.

He’s the manager of Itchy Palms, a popular casino on the edge of The Cove Port Inlet’s uptown area. The building is connected to the abandoned subway tunnels. And Garret knows. His. Business. He knows how to play each and every game, as well as several ways to cheat at each and every game without giving said cheating away. His outlook on fairness is. . .unconventional.

Current Stories: (Goretober 2024) Day 4: Burst Vessels

@sammys-magical-au

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Garret Wyre Moodboard

Finally got one for my paranoid Mick Lauer Ego! Can't wait to start writing for him!

(If you’d like to learn more about the mob this character works with, go here!)

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

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Masterpost

What’s up? I’m 22, autistic, omniromantic-demisexual, and use She/Her pronouns. Storytelling is really important to me, and the stuff I make is almost always dark, unhinged, and macabre.

This is a list of all the stories I’ve written so far (and I’ll be making updates in time with future stories). The characters I mainly write for are YouTuber Egos; those of Nathan Sharp/NateWantsToBattle, Markiplier, MatPat, Thomas Sanders, etc.

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T̅̈ͥhe P̥e̵n̶̬̬t̲̲ä́͘s͈͈͢ Fͤãm̼i̥lͩy̜ [Tͥh̴ͦ͠e̸̸̥ F̻́utu͒́́r͂e͖͒̐ M͙oͦb̬̈́̒ P̠̩̕r͛͋̈́ȯj͇e̤c̴t̾̇]

The Pentas Family Encyclopedia

Murdock Mallory (My personal headcanons)

(Goretober 2022) Day 2: Cannibalism (Caliban, Murdock, The Newcomer)

Running on Empty (Caliban, Murdock, R.D.)

God, Being an Accessory to Murder is Exhausting (Sam Ryder, Murdock, Caliban)

What’s That Saying About Cinnamon Rolls. . ? (Azalea, Caliban)

Update the Letter Board! (Azalea, Murdock)

Toxic Tutorials (Azalea, The Newcomer)

(Goretober 2023) Day 3: Broken Bones (K.O., Murdock, Caliban)

(Goretober 2023) Day 4: Amputation (Caliban, Murdock, R.D.)

(Goretober 2023) Day 7: Needles (Azalea, Murdock, Caliban, K.O.)

HALLOWEEN 2023 SPECIAL: Bloody Tricks and Even Bloodier Treats (Sam Ryder, Azalea, K.O., Murdock, Caliban)

(Goretober 2024) Day 2: Operation (Murdock, K.O.)

(Goretober 2024) Day 4: Burst Vessels (Garret Wyre, The Newcomer)

(Goretober 2024) Day 5: Submerged (Parker Thenope, Murdock)

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Fǎ̘nm͌ad̗e̋ͭ̑ E̍͞g̾ös̀͌

Caliban Crawford (My EgoPat)

Azalea Crawford (My Nerdy Nummies Ego)

K.O./Kaiser Oasis (My CrankEgo)

Garret Wyre (My Mick Lauer Ego)

Parker Thenope (My Nathan Sharp/NWTB Ego)

Val Ocitie (My Lio Tipton Ego)

Two-Toes Johnny/Johnathan Shine (My Muyskerm Ego)

Phoenix Rhong (My Safiya Nygaard Ego)

Miles C. Peyote and Howie Thetaxi (My Dawko and 8-BitRyan Egos)

Jay Aienyouess (My Thomas Sanders Ego)

The Newcomer

R.D. (My StephEgo)

……….

S̹̫t̥a̖͔ṉ̡́̚͠n̗̦̝̘͒̓͞in̵̬ͧ́̈́̌̕g̡̫͂ͮ͜ T͌h̸e̲ͤ̚ͅ Un̬͉̓͊̎̓ca̶̙̰ͩͮ͜ṉ̡͓ͬny͇͌͌͞͡

Cruz Freitas (A LixianEgo that I made as a gift for @sammys-magical-au ; one of my Semi-Cultist characters)

Sol Magee (An Ash Ego; specifically one of my Semi-Cultists)

LeviathanPat (another EgoPat of mine)

Sylphanie/Sylph (another StephEgo of mine)

Moses Norbert and ColosSeptic (An CrankEgo and SepticEgo; respectively one of my Semi-Cultists and Abomination-Ego)

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C̛̪ͤasͩ̓u̜ảl͈ Fį̙͜c̚sͥ͊

From Candygram to Requiem (Noah Walker and the Paranormal Investigators from Random Encounter’s Phasmophobia The Musical)

What’s a Detective Without a Case? (Noir!Engineer Mark, Noir!Mack, Noir!Captain)

Nobody Likes Rude Clients (Patty, Delux/Porniplier)

Caught Between a Monstrosity and An Abomination  (EldritchPlier, LeviathanPat, The Reader)

Just Another Night at Sparky’s (Ness, Jack, Mason)

When a Tomb Becomes a Womb (Part 1: Rings) (The Creature/Callum, Lisa Swallows)

When a Tomb Becomes a Womb (Part 2: Honeymoon) (The Creature/Callum, Lisa Swallows)

There Are Some Cons to Being an Archeologist... (Penn/Pennsylvania James, Illinois, LeviathanPat)

A Couple Nights Later. . . (Penn/Pennsylvania James, Illinois, Caliban, Azalea, Murdock)

It Might as Well Happen! Life is Already So (Old) God(s)damn Weird! (Cruz, EldritchPlier, Penn/Pennsylvania James, Illinois, Sam Ryder)

Talking in Your Sleep (Sam Ryder, LeviathanPat, Sylphanie/Sylph, Sol Magee)

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S͂̋̕eͨ̓r͈ͣ̄ieͮs͔̃̓ Fi̹̅cs̋

……….

Terminal Case of the Ol' Switcheroo (a crack-crossover that @insane4fandoms and I are collaborating on, where I write snippets to attach to the comics they draw. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time, the FNAF Movie's own Ness was mistaken for MadPat and abducted by my EgoPat, Caliban. Now the two of them are working together in a race to track down Mad and catch him before he can harm the Schmidt family.)

Part 1 (Ness, Caliban, MadPat, Mike Schmidt)

Part 2 (Ness, Caliban, R.D., MadPat, Mike Schmidt)

Part 3 (Ness, Caliban, MadPat, Mike Schmidt)

Part 4 (Ness, Caliban, MadPat, Mike Schmidt, Jack/Cabbie!Cory, Abby Schmidt)

Epilogue (Ness, Jack/Cabbie!Cory, Mike Schmidt, Abby Schmidt, Caliban, MadPat, Murdock, The Newcomer)

..........

My Goretober Ventures So Far. . .

……….

Gifts for a Bat (an ongoing saga of snippets based off of @that-bat’s awesome Resident Evil: Village AU, where the mutated personifications of Nate, Mark and Matt are Lords serving under Mother Miranda and Ethan Nestor/CrankGamePlays is playing the role of Ethan Winters.)

Part 1: A Spider-Human Monster and A Necromancer Walk Into a Bar… (Nate/Lord Ophio, Matt/Lord Loxosceles)

Part 2: Chaos, Compromises, and Meal-Prep (Ethan Nestor-Winters, Matt/Lord Loxosceles, Mark/Lord Isurus)

Part 3: A New Face In Town (Nate/Lord Ophio, Hunter/The Baron)

……….

The Sides of A Nightmare (short drabbles inspired by @fangirltothefullest’s amazing Sanders Sides Little Nightmares AU)

The Actor (Creativity “Roman” Sanders/Red, Character!Thomas Sanders)

The Professor (Logic “Logan” Sanders/Indigo, Creativity “Roman” Sanders/Red, Character!Thomas Sanders)

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R̸̨̾a̝̒ͣn̮͒͡d̔̈́o̗͇m̜ J͔u͔͞n̤ͥ̕k͋

My EgoPats Meeting the Canon EgoPats

My EgoPats Meeting the Canon EgoPats (Brought To You by Incorrect Quotes)

Incorrect Quotes: ISWM (Parts 1 and 2) Edition

Incorrect Quotes: ISWM Edition (The Second One)

How Mack Snapped and Became the Way He Is in Part Two

ISWM Meets Pokemon

Matt and Ro are Soul-Siblings, So…

Matt and Ro Are Soul-Siblings, So... (But It's Kinda Dark This Time)

Headcanons for Phantom and Monarch Being Allies(?) Since Nate and Amanda Are Friends

Characters and Headcanons and References, Oh My!

What’s This? Natemare is EVOLVING!

I’d Like To Adopt These Side-Characters, Please (And Also Make One Arbitrarily To Appease The Vibes)

RE8 AU Incorrect Quotes

How a Lot of My Followers Probably Reacted to My Hyperfixation on Caliban

RE8 AU Incorrect Quotes [Part 2]

A Fictional AI Argument That No-One Asked For

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

NEW CHARACTER ALERT! NEW CHARACTER ALERT! WHEE-WHOO, WHEE-WHOO, WHEE-WHOO!!!

The Pentas Family Encyclopedia

So, if you’ve been reading my more recent fics, then you’ve probably noticed how I can’t seem to shut up about [The Future Mob Project]. Although this project is going to take a very, very, VERY long time to actually complete, that’s not going to stop me from fleshing out its characters, environment, and lore piece-by-piece. I’ve already written a few stories for this, and plenty more stories are on the way. 

(Except for Murdock—and, to an extent, Two-Toes Johnny—every character/ego on this list is MY creation. If any art or other stories happen to be inspired by them, PLEASE make sure to tag/credit me as the creator. I haven’t been this motivated to write in a long time, and I put a lot of time, thought, and effort into my work. If you have questions about the characters or lore, feel free to send me an ask or a DM. I love talking about creative stuff!)

This mob has a lot of growing/developing to do, and I will ABSOLUTELY be making updates/reblogs to this post as new characters are introduced and new ideas are implemented. Please keep in mind that updates may be sporadic, because adult life is complicated and exhausting and I’m ScaredTM.

(Also: @sammys-magical-au​, I can’t thank you enough for all the help/advice you’ve given me with certain plot-points so far. You’re an amazing friend, and I’m so excited to brainstorm about upcoming characters/stories with you.)

Now, without further adieu, let’s get on with the infodumping…

Keep reading

[shmetective]

(( I missed drawing you, detective man. Hope I’m finally doing Mick’s lovely face justice.