About The Recent Dark Happenings On Mark’s Channel And My Lack Of Theorizing.

Chase is our protagonist? Huh. I hadn’t thought of him that way before. That’s really cool! :)

what made you decide to make a video about chase? where did your inspiration come from? You're a good actor btw :3

Chase is the protagonist and is probably the most relatable and regular character out of them all. He also has a lot of story and background so it seemed like a no brainer to go with him. 

Dark was the first demon he ever encountered. He was possessed, and attacked a close friend, who survived only because Mark was just strong enough to fight the demon down long enough to call an exorcist.

He started training immediately, because he knew that Dark wasn’t done with him.

Tyler is the first to join his team, the other apprentice to Mark’s teacher and quickly one of Mark’s best friends. He’s better with the actual written rites themselves, while Mark is good at the symbols and the methods.

Kathryn’s good at recognizing demon types quickly, having studied them as a hobby until one of her friends summoned one by accident. The boys were passing through town and helped her get rid of it. She joined them after that.

Amy was next, and is fantastic at painting devil’s traps and symbols. She can recognize symbols almost instantly, and is excellent at recognizing traps. That’s how she saved Mark’s life on a case at her college. He asked her out, stumbling over his words and dropping a Bible at her feet in his clumsiness.

Ethan joined last, having read about Mark’s group of exorcists online and shooting him a message. He’s got a lot to learn but picks everything up quickly, never panicking on a case. He usually stays with the families that they’re protecting.

Jack was their first international case. And Mark nearly ruined everything when he was first faced with Anti. He stumbled over the words of the exorcism, and it Tyler hadn’t been there to take over, everyone would’ve been in big trouble. Jack was unhurt by the possession, and agreed to keep an eye on things across the pond, with help from his buddy Robin (who quickly became an exorcist because he thought it was cool).

No one asked Mark what had frightened him so much about Anti. No one needed to.

There was only one thing that terrified him that much. And Anti was an all too familiar being.

j’s other aesthetics.

Mark as an exorcist.

Applegrass

Pairing: Ten/Rose

Rating: PG for heavy angst

He was lying on applegrass. But that couldn't be right. The last time he'd done this... He looked beside him.

There she was, grinning down at him, blonde hair whipping in the breeze, her tongue between her teeth, exactly how he remembered. "Doctor? You fell asleep on me. You alright?"

A small awe-fillled smile crept across his face. "Rose?" he said, very quietly, not quite daring to believe it. She laughed and his hearts nearly stopped. "Yeah, 'course I am. Who'd you expect? Is that whole regeneration thingy still messin' with your 'ead?" He laughed just a little. "I...it must be. I...I must have just....dreamt it all...?" She grew concerned and he wanted to slap himself. He never wanted to see anything but a smile on that face ever again. "What'd you dream about tha's got you so rattled?" He sat up slowly. "I dreamed...I dreamed I-I'd lost you....I dreamed I was alone....This whole weird thing with a...an ancient creature, on Earth....it was Christmas...and there was this bride...but all I could think, seeing her in that-that dress, was...." He stared at her through this whole little speech, and realized what he was about to say almost too late. He managed to stop himself, and cleared his throat awkwardly. Rose stared right back into his eyes, and murmured, "Doctor...what were you thinkin' about?" And looking into the eyes he could have sworn he'd be missing for the rest of his long lives, without the hope of seeing them again, he gave in to what he'd resisted for what felt like too long. "I kept thinking about how beautiful you'd look in  a wedding gown, and how much I missed you, and how much it hurt that I'd never...never said..." She looked shocked that he'd said it out loud, and was blushing violently. He chuckled and pulled her into a hug as she whisper-squeaked "Doctor!" into his shoulder. They held each other for a moment before she pulled back a little, cleared her throat, and said nervously, tucking hair behind her ear-a habit he loved so much-"So...does that mean...do you...?" He almost couldn't believe what he was doing, but he had been given the chance to see what could happen if he didn't.He could never let her go. He thought he had always known he couldn't. Though it didn't make any sense, though he was still a Time Lord and she was still human...he didn't care anymore. So, he leaned in, cupping her face with one hand and tucking the other around her waist. She gasped slightly. He smiled and brushed her lips, gently, almost hesitantly, almost as if he were asking for permission. She granted it by kissing him back, firmly but very, very gently.He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, didn't want to. In this moment, he wasn't a soldier, or a survivor, or a god, or an alien. He was just a man, kissing the most amazing, impossible, beautiful, fantastic woman who had ever lived. After a very long moment, they pulled back to look at each other, and giggled awkwardly, their forheads pressed together. "Finally," Rose cheeked, nudging his arm, "Took you this long to figure that out?" He took her hand and stared at it, his thumb stroking affectionately across her knuckles. "Rose?" He looked up at her pleadingly. "Promise me that you'll never leave?" She laughed, and scooped him into another hug. He held her tightly, as if he'd never let go. "'Course I won't. Because..." She moved to face him and grinned his favorite grin. Very hesitantly, and blushing heavily-how it should have...should be, he thought, no rush or pain-Rose said the only thing the Time Lord would have burned up suns to hear. "Doctor...my Doctor...I love you." He looked into her eyes, trying to convey all of the emotion he could with them because he knew his voice alone would never be sufficient for how he felt for his little pink and yellow human shopgirl. "Rose Tyler..." The name on his tongue was the most beautiful music ever sung. He smiled her favorite hundred watt smile, and took a deep breath for those three little words...the most important words he'd ever say...

The Doctor woke with a start, unsure at first where he was. Where was Rose? Where was the grass? Why didn't the air feel right? He looked around, and slowly, as his dark, lonely bedroom registered, he remembered. He looked down at his disheveled brown suit, at the tightly balled up covers in his left hand, at the small, insignificant looking blue and purple jacket clutched in his right, and he felt tears well up again. He began to shake, hard, staring at it. The pain of losing her was fresh all over again, all the good Donna had done for him destroyed by one moment of weakness from his subconcious. Her face was still fresh in his mind, smiling, blushing, happy and carefree, her voice still saying those words in that beautiful London accent. He brought the jacket up to his face, holding it with both hands now, and gently rubbed the soft fabric across his cheek. It still smelled like her. Faint floral perfume, and her shampoo.

He broke down, sobbing and rocking, and stayed on his bed, wishing the world away, calling in vain for his Rose, cursing himself for ever pausing before saying those cruel words. Every room in the whole TARDIS echoed with his screams and sobs. They almost seemed strongest and most heartbroken in one partricular, empty little pink room.

Far away, in a little pink room, a pink and yellow human shopgirl screamed awake, crying, begging him to say it, please say it. She slowly stopped screaming, and cried silently, a small silver key on a chain clutched in her right hand, hugged close to her chest. It was all she had left of him. She could still see his face fresh in her mind, smiling, blushing, goofy and nervous enough to be a teenage human boy, still hear his voice shyly calling her beautiful in a wedding gown. It had been a dream. But of course, this dream, though especially vivid tonight,was not unusual for her.

(I’ve only been to two lmao I think it’s cool!) I’m trying to write a fic rn for a character I came up with and I am struggling to decide if it should be fluff or angst or neutral like yikes idk how writers do it

Hmmm, maybe try writing a synopsis for each genre and seeing which one you like best?

also IF THE UNUS ANNUS WEBSITE WOULD WORK THAT WOULD ROCK AAAAAAAAH

Packing

Pairing: Ten/Rose, unrequited!Tentoo/Rose

Rating: PG for strong angst

He pulled open a drawer.

Ties. This was where he kept the ties. Browns and blues mostly. Some in shades of red. He took a few of those, and one of his favorite brown silk ones.

He opened one of the cupboards.

Converse, stacked up high on the shelves. He took a pair of the reds, a pair of the whites, a pair of the blacks.

He walked to another part of the wardrobe and looked through a rack until he found what he was looking for. A long brown coat, not the same one, not perfect, but as close as he was going to get, and he didn't have time to be picky. He shoved it awkwardly into his pocket.

He left the wardrobe, feeling numb. Never in his long life had he been faced with this reality. Never would he have expected it. Now that he didn't have much time left here, he was starting to panic.

Not about not having a ship, he knew he would be taking a piece of the coral with him, even he couldn't be that cruel, so that wasn't gone forever. But about not having this ship.

He'd never see Susan's room again. Or Ace's. Or Sarah Jane's. He'd never see any of Romana's books again, or any of Adric's formula sheets. He'd never see Martha's extra jacket, or Donna's sketchbook full of shorthand notes, caricatures, and tic tak toe.

He skulked out, toward the console room, and stopped just before he entered.

He peeked in.

They were in there. And they were talking. And she was smiling.

Her smile was so beautiful. Her eyes crinkled at the edges, and her tongue poked cutely out between her teeth. How many times had he been temped to forget whatever little adventure they'd been on when he'd seen that smile, to just forget every limitation and kiss her, to tell her how much he loved her against that smile.

She laughed at something he said.

It hurt, physically, to see them talking, see her smile, hear her laugh. He knew he wouldn't be hearing it much longer. Why would she choose him? His hand snaked up to feel the single heartbeat in his chest, the constant reminder that he wasn't the real him. That no matter what his mind said, no matter what memories and feelings he had, no matter what he looked like, he was just a copy. A fake. A poor recreation. He was going to age, and die. And he'd be doing it alone.

But wasn't he used to alone? Wasn't he used to the universe teasing him with the chance of happiness and just when it seemed like he'd always have a hand to hold, taking it away from him? That didn't make it any easier.

He scowled in the empty corridor. Nine hundred years, all to end up dying as a human, in the wrong universe, alone. Maybe it was exactly what he deserved.

He said something, and she agreed, and they moved toward the hallway. He ducked quickly into an alcove and stayed there until they passed. Then he hurried out into the console room and over to a side panel on the central pillar. He flipped a few switches, tapped the screen a few times, and turned a few dials before pressing one last button and waiting. A few seconds of whirring later, a sonic screwdriver plopped into the little slot at the bottom of the panel, and he picked it up and tucked it into his pocket. He moved over to another panel and smacked it a little too violently. A drawer popped out, and he picked up the extra psychic paper and put it in his pocket as well. He spotted a picture of Susan, and, heart wrenching alienly, took that as well. Then he shut the drawer and looked up, just staring around the room he'd called home for seven hundred years.

His teeth clenched and his hands gripped the coral edging tightly as he suddenly fought back a sob.

It wasn't fair. Nothing was fair. He could be so much more than this. And maybe he would be. But this him, this counterfeit, never would. Was this his punishment for all that he'd done? By all rights, it hadn't even been him! Why make him conscious? Why make him share the same mind?

Why hadn't he just changed?

Someone coughed. He didn't need to look up.

The other him walked slowly back into the room. He stared at him for a minute with a look of mixed pity, sorrow, and guilty fascination. It was sickening.

He looked up, and their eyes met. By the way the Doctor winced, he could tell that he knew exactly how he felt. Something flashed in his eyes as well...regret? Pain?

Whatever it was, it felt almost perverse.

Then he coughed again, and spoke, softly.

"I haven't told her what you are yet. Not about..." he tapped his chest. "I'll leave that to you."

"Thanks," he said acidly.

The Doctor rubbed his neck awkwardly, almost ashamedly, then grabbed his jacket off the jumpseat and shuffled out of the room.

"Take whatever you need," he said over his shoulder as he went back to Rose.

He very nearly slammed his fist into the console. His hand was raised and clenched when Donna came in.

"Don't you dare, Spaceman."

His hand dropped limply to his side as he turned to look at her.

Without another word, she walked up and threw her arms tight around him. He hugged back.

Neither commented on the oddness of only two hearts beating between them.

After a minute, she pulled away from him, handing him a small book. He recognized it as her most recent sketchbook. Gripping it tightly, he met her eyes, and, almost ashamed of how desperate he sounded, blurted, "You can't come with me?"

"No," she sighed, patting his arm, "I've got to stay. For Mum and Gramps. You know that."

"I know."

She hugged him again, briefly, before walking off down the hall, presumably to find the other one and Rose. He almost smiled. Donna would have liked to get to know Rose. His almost smile turned into another almost sob, but he held his composure. He would not lose it until he was truly alone, he promised himself. He wouldn't let them see him break. He couldn't do that to Rose, or to Donna. He supposed he couldn't even do that to himself.

The TARDIS landed with a loud groan and a dull thud. He glanced at the screen. A beach appeared on it, the beach he hated more than almost anything in the entire universe.

His single heart was beating out the word that had started it all, and would end it all, for him.

Run.

The Good Doctor.

((A/N: TRIGGER WARNING FOR GORE AND NEEDLES!! Well, Anti made a reappearance, and now we have more lore. Specifically, about Schneeplestein! I was excited, so I thought I’d write a quick fic about the aftermath of Say Goodbye. Enjoy!))

"Oh god..." Henrik jerked into motion, nearly barreling over the table as he fell into place beside Jack, dropping his medical bag open on the floor beside him. The blood, oh god, the blood, there was so much of it. Snapping himself out of his shock, he scrambled through the bag with one hand as the other desperately tried to stem the flow of blood from the deep gash in his old friend's neck. "Where is it? Where is it?! Dammit...hold in there, Jack, just hold on...you don't get to die on me, no, no, no, not on the watch of Dr. Schneeplestein!" He glanced over at Jack, with half a weak smile as he nearly anticipated the usual laugh and eye-roll he'd get whenever he was as grandiose as that. But there was nothing, no flicker of life from the cold form. He jerked the needle, thread, and towel free of the bag and began desperately trying to stitch Jack's neck together and stop the blood at the same time. Where were his medicines to thicken blood? Where were his gauze and bandaging? Where was his antiseptic spray?

"DON'T YOU DIE ON ME!" Henrik's panic was getting the best of him now. He was working quickly, sloppily. There were moments where he thought he missed time passing, his sight seeming to skip from one second to the next. He almost thought he was...twitching. Nerves, it must be nerves. Jack was dying, right there in front of him, and he wasn't doing enough, he couldn't do enough, it ͞ẃa͡s̢ ͝n̡evèr͏ eno̕ug͢h.͠ He doubled over, twitching once, violently. He thought he heard a high-pitched ringing. Looking at his shaking hands, he thought for a second he saw them go around Jack's neck, as if to choke him. No, no that couldn't be right. He blinked, gasping, and saw his hands, jerked up beside him, nowhere near Jack at all. No. No, he couldn't lose it now. He couldn't lose control now, Jack needed him. Get it together, Doctor! The ringing got louder, and under it, some noise. Some...pattern. High, cold, uneven...almost like a laugh. Henrik shook his head.

Ĝ͈ͥͥͨ́ͮ͒õ̳̰̣͕͔̼ͦ̄̓̾ȭ͎̩̦͓̱̣̟d̬̪̝͕͔̤̣͌̎ͪͩ ͙̞̜̜̱̜̽̿͛́ḍ̞̣͉̞̯͋͛ö͕̤̬͕͕͈ͬc̹̘͙͚̗̥͍̕t̶̰̯ͯ̓̊̇̋̓͌o̧͉̘͚̻͌̌̄̎͋͐r͍͕̗̼̤̯̹͋.̇͛̓͘.̺̖͖͈́ͧ͒ͣ.͔̩̼͓̗͙͙ͤ̇͐̚y̵̗͖̱̘̝̻ͣo̩̯̼̫̠͕̖ͣ̇ͩ́̔̇ͫú͔̳͇̥̪̞̦̾͊̇ ͖̹͎̆̂̑̇̏̍̕c̗̞͈̻ͭ͐̐̎̋̽̚oͨu͔͠l̊͛̾̉̌҉̥͈͎͎͓̩d̻͗̇̈ ͙̝̫͇͂̏ͪ̚b̸͐̿ͪe ̦͓̳̥̮͛͑͘f̻͇͔̱̘͕̊ͩ̑̅̓͆̓u̩n͓̚.̔̓̈́ͮͩͤ̚.̖͉ͭͩ́.̪͇̖̗̀ͮ̒̉̆͛ͣͅ

"No. No, no, no," he muttered, covering his ears with his hands. How could he be losing control at a time like this? He had never been prone to panic attacks, why now, of all times? Perhaps it was insanity? People had always said he was on the verge of it. He shook his head. No. He needed his mind clear to help Jack, he needed to stop the bleeding...the bleeding...

The bleeding had stopped. Henrik stared, uncomprehending. He checked for a pulse. There was no way... He felt one. Very, very faint, but present. Jack was alive.

Jack woke up, only hours later, and seemed to feel no ill effects, other than being a bit weak. He didn't seem to even remember what had happened. When he asked the doctor, he couldn't bring himself to tell, so instead, he made up some cock-and-bull story about pumpkin fumes knocking him out. It was a very weak reason, and clearly, Jack didn't believe him, but he didn't question it. Even when later, he looked in the mirror and saw the red stains on his neck. Even when he saw the blood on the carpet, and in the carved pumpkin he didn't remember finishing.

Dr. Schneeplestein never mentioned the "panic attack". He never talked about what had really happened. He never talked about the voice.

Neither of them wanted to think about what had done it...and how that thing was still out there. Neither wanted to think about when he might come back.

Okay I’ve just watched the end of the video. I’m a transcriptionist, so I thought I’d give a try at actually just transcribing what I hear as I hear it, then work it out from there. So I did that twice with the clip between “If you liked this video, then-” and it cutting to black with “END” scrolling by.

Transcription 1: fros nes fa amniverands folet esanafram re estoaman

Now like I said, I just transcribed exactly what I heard, playing it at half speed to make sure I got everything. I noticed that a couple of these distinct phrases sounded like words, so I made some guesses as to what those words were. I tried reversing it to see if it made more sense that way, but no dice.

amniverands = “anniversary”?

esanafram = “is in a frame”?

Transcription 2: frosnisfa amiverands folet esamafram festoamand

Again, I tried to write down what I heard, but this time I didn’t stope the audio at all and just wrote as it played (again, at half speed), and got fairly similar results. However, I heard the ending differently playing it all at once, and so my guess changed for what it meant.

festoamand = phase two as planned?

Is this calling back to Quit The Game To Win? “Now we start Phase 2″? What do you think, guys?

Who Killed Markiplier?

Alright so I’ve watched the video like five times now, and slowed it down to pick things apart. Here’s what I’ve been able to piece together so far.

First, let’s talk characters: (I’ll probably do some more in-depth posts about a couple of them later)

-The Colonel is the first person we meet, and it is our first meeting with him outside the front door, as he introduces himself to us. We learn from the Mayor that he doesn’t like Mark, but was apparently friends with him, and the Mayor as well, some time ago, but was possibly forgotten and abandoned by Mark when he got famous (as hinted at in his rant/theory). He’s an eccentric, but generally good man (according to the Mayor).

-The Butler is cordial and professional when we first meet him, and every time we see him except for in the wine cellar, when he falls apart because of the mess, and I assume primarily because of the stress of Mark’s death. He claims to know everything about the manor and about the other guests, but nothing about the murder itself.

-The Mayor, whose real name is apparently Damian, according to the Colonel, is an old friend of ours from University, and trusts us immensely, having appointed us to our new job as District Attorney. He’s also an old friend of Mark’s, having known him “since childhood”, and an old friend of the Colonel. He apparently knows the backstory between the Colonel and Mark, but doesn’t want to talk immediately. It seems as if his reaction to Mark’s death, one of shock, is the most natural.

-The Detective, whose name might have been mentioned by Mark in the security footage but I didn’t catch it, has had many partners before, but all have died tragically. He’s terrible at his job, trusting a butler’s opinion on a body, doing...things...to said body, and immediately hiring us on as his partner, with no prior training. But he was also apparently hired by Mark before the poker party to do a background check on the Chef and the Butler, whom he said were clean. It’s worth noting that while we see him talking to the Mayor in the first two minutes of the video, we’re not introduced to him until the murder is discovered.

-The Chef is an aggressive man, who threatens to kill us a couple of times, and who apparently runs a security system with his “little buddy”. It seems to me that he’s the easy, throw-away suspect because he’s so obviously aggressive in the first place. It is also interesting to me that he seems just as freaked out by the Detective’s multiple partner deaths as we are.

-Then there’s us, the new District Attorney, old friends with Mark and the Mayor, but we’ve never met the Colonel, which might mean we’re slightly out of touch with Mark. We’re also apparently very good at poker, and were wild in our Uni days.

And now, the victim: Markiplier, who’s risen to fame and fortune, and who believes that “Life is for the living,” so lives a lavish, carefree lifestyle in his enormous manor. We know that all of the guests are close, trusted friends of Mark’s, but that he’s had a rocky relationship with the Colonel, and that he doesn’t fully trust the Chef or the Butler.

Next, let’s talk about some moments that’re worth checking out in more detail:

-The montage of the night. Now looking at it slowed down, I’ve pieced together some of the events of the night. We started off playing a few rounds, drinking socially. As it got later, however, everyone (except the Butler and the Chef) gets very drunk, and the Butler even ends up joining in the games. We get drunker and drunker, as the Chef gets more annoyed with everyone’s outrageousness, from the Mayor doing a keg stand to the Colonel fighting with the Detective, to lots and lots of beer pong. The Butler refuses to drink from the Colonel’s flask, and as we all get more drunk, we get more aggressive and ridiculous, flipping off the Butler, the Colonel plays with a loaded gun (possibly playing Russian Roulette), and we end up fighting with, and losing to, the Detective. We’re found on the floor by the Mayor, and pass out in bed at 1:30am, when the murder is occuring. Some of my key questions about these events: Why were we fighting with the Detective? Why was the Colonel playing Russian Roulette?

-The argument between the Mayor and  the Colonel. The Mayor accuses the Colonel of not feeling anything about Mark’s death, and says that Mark “reached out” to him, to which the Colonel replies that just because he’s not “weeping like a child” doesn’t mean he’s not feeling anything. After this, the Mayor storms past us, out of the room. I’ve covered pretty much everything we learn from this in the characters section of this post, but basically, we learn that the Colonel and Mark were friends who fell out because of Mark’s fame, but the Mayor acted as a bridge between the two.

-The security footage shows us a conversation between the Detective and Mark, in which Mark asks about a background check on the Butler and Chef, and the Detective says that the Chef is clear, but says something I couldn’t quite understand about the Butler (UPDATE: Apparently it was "Butler is an asshole, but also clear" , thank you @sassy-in-glasses). What we learn from this is that first, Mark and the Detective were good friends, second, Mark hired him to check out those two, if not the entire party, and third that Mark didn’t trust his employees, for some reason, or at least had reservations about them.

Now, let’s talk about the crime scene, sans body. The caution tape on one side is broken, apparently from the inside (I think), and a cone is knocked over. So either someone wasn’t careful hauling the body out...or the body walked out.

Finally, let’s talk briefly about the Jims. Their video is a bit silly, but does give us some pretty clean shots of the poker table and the crime scene again. Reporter Jim touches nearly everything, which isn’t helpful at all, but most interestingly, when they’re running away, he falls over, and we get a...*ahem* close shot of him as Camera Jim says his name and panics, and the video glitches out and stops. Is Reporter Jim dead? And why the glitching? Clearly, something bigger is going on here.

So as of yet, I don’t know who did it. But I’m excited to see what’s next. What do you guys think is happening? Did I miss anything? What should I look into in more detail? And most importantly...

WHO KILLED MARKIPLIER?!

I got nothing else to say but if ISWM doesn’t get merch I’m gonna cry.