Latest Posts by likepuppetsonastring - Page 7

okay but Dark and Will reacting to Tyler in our universe???

“OH MY FUCK IT’S THE BUTLER”

“Uh...no. I’m actually Mark’s manager. Rude.”

Years after WKM, Benjamin comes across Dark and Wilford while they are out and about

AND THEY JUST PASS EACH OTHER LIKE TOTAL STRANGERS HFJSAFHDJ

hahahaha

‘Scuse me while I try a different pain.

BANG

The sound was familiar. The numbness, and then the sudden shock of pain as he collapsed on the concrete. This form had felt this before, the old wound ripped open with the new one, the broken bones jolting out of place with the fall. The Darkness tried desperately to pull itself back together. Why this wound? Why had this one broken him? He was fading. No, no, no! This can’t be happening! This isn’t fair! This isn’t fair. This isn’t...this isn’t...

Suddenly, Damien gasped. His breath was weak and rattling...but it was his. He knew that this wasn’t his body, that he wasn’t truly his old self. He hadn’t been for a long time now, he’d been nothing but darkness for so long, he’d hardly remembered his own name anymore. But now, and he could’ve laughed if he’d had the breath, as he was lying in this puddle of blood, their blood...he remembered. Without the influence of that awful thing, he was himself, he was Damien, and...and...

Oh god.

Celine. His own sister, he’d left her there. And the DA...had he really left them in that godforsaken house? All alone for all of these years? And...

Oh no.

“Will...” he wheezed. A tear rolled down his cheek as it got harder still to breathe. He couldn’t see anymore. “’m sorry...Will, ‘m sorry...”

“Dark?”

No. No, anything but that name. Please, just let him be himself again. If nothing else in this cruel world, let him die as himself, with what little dignity he had left. He didn’t want to be that creature anymore. He groaned weakly.

Footsteps. A thud of someone collapsing down next to him.

“Dark, old man, what happened to you?”

He knew that voice...but it was wrong...it was wrong, but it was him. The tears came faster and he tried to move but grunted in pain.

“W...Will...”

“Speak up, Dark, I can’t hear you with your face on the ground like that.” He was so cheerful. Stupid, stupid man, Damien thought fondly. A hand turned him on his back and he cried out. Will sucked in a breath sharply.

“That’s a humdinger, alright. A hell of a joke.”

A joke. No, Will, no. Damien suddenly remembered what Will had become and sobbed painfully, coughing up blood. He used what little power lingered from...it...to stabilize himself slightly. Just long enough to do what he hadn’t gotten the chance to do the first time.

“Will...’s me...’s me...”

“I can see that, Dark-”

“No. No...not...that...’m...’m back, Will...’m back...”

There was a pause. Then a rattling breath. Then, in a very small voice...

“Damien?”

He laughed, coughing again, and Will tried to help him stop. His hands were shaking.

“’s been...a long time...”

“I...I-it has, h-hasn’t it...”

“’ve got..pink...ha...ha...”

“A tease as usual, I see.” A tear dripped onto his face. “I’ve missed that.”

His breathing was failing again, and the power was fading. “’m so...so sorry...”

“I-it’s...i-it’s alr-right...” A hand closed around his, and he was sad that he couldn’t return the pressure it put there. “It’s qu-quite alright.”

“Tell them...’m sorry...”

“Of course.” Will’s voice was a whisper.

“‘m sorry...” he mumbled again. The blackness of the Void was closing in again, and it was getting harder and harder to hear anything. Will’s hand felt a million miles away. “‘s good...to hear...y’r voice...old friend...”

A rattling breath. He couldn’t tell whose it was anymore.

“Goodbye, William.”

Then there was nothing.

A short story? about Wiford finding out that we killed Dark (in A date with Markiplier) saying that he trusted us and we are the only monster here. Because i like to make me suffer

@markired

An Egos Masterlist

Because my most frequent writing topic as of late has been The Egos, be it for Jack or Mark, I thought I’d put together my list of the ones I consider canon and their relative power in their groups.

JACK:

MOST POWERFUL: Antisepticeye, Dr. Schneeplestein SECOND TIER: Jackieboy Man, Marvin the Magnificent, Chase Brody LEAST POWERFUL: Robbie the Zombie, Dapper Jack, Shawn Flynn, Jacques Septique UNSURE STATUS: The Announcer, Angus the Survival Hunter

MARK:

MOST POWERFUL: Darkiplier, Wilford Warfstache SECOND TIER:The Host (Formerly The Author), Googleplier LEAST POWERFUL: Bim Trimmer, Dr. Iplier The Silver Shephard, Ed Edgar, Yanderiplier, The Jims, The King of the Squirrels UNSURE STATUS: The King of FNAF

Deal. (A JSE Ego Drabble)

(A/N: I have zero idea what the actual plot is here, I just wanted to write something dramatic with all of the Septiceye gang. So enjoy some horror nonesense!)

"Hell is empty, and all the devils are here!" -William Shakespeare, The Tempest

It was far too quiet. Chase was as white as a sheet. He'd been against the idea from the start, the only one among them other than Jack who had a family to get back to, and he didn't want to do anything else to put them at risk. He wrung his hands around his Nerf gun, staring at the door into the recording room from his slumped spot on the floor across the hall. A few yards from him, sitting at the top of the stairs, holding one knee and dangling the other over the top steps, was Jackieboy Man. Jackie was uncomfortable, fidgeting with Sam, throwing them into the air and catching them again. Luckily the eye didn't seem to oppose this. Schneep was pacing, muttering under his breath and checking his supplies every few seconds. No one had to ask why he was so nervous. Dapper and Shawn were leaning against the sides of the door, acting as guards, potentially. Dapper seemed to be the only one not uncomfortable with the reletive silence, but even he was showing signs of distress, mustache twitching every few seconds.

"How long've they been in there?" Schneep shrugged, but it was Jackie who answered. "About twenty minutes." "How much longer does he need?" "He told us he'd knock when he was ready." "Well, what if he's-?!" "Don't, Chase." Schneep's voice was unusually devoid of bravado. "I do not need to hear zat idea. I do not need to hear zat right now." Chase glared at him. "Well someone needs to think about this. If Jack can't do it-" "Chase-" "I'm not gonna back down from this! I've got kids to worry about! If that thing gets lose, if it comes after them like it came after you, I'm not havin' it! I'll kill 'im!" "But...but Chase, you can't..." Jackie trailed off, knowing full well Chase meant what he said, and that he had every right to. Dapper reached over and patted Chase's shoulder, but he jerked away from the touch, making Dap sigh as he stood back up, pulling his pocketwatch out and frowning at it, thinking what all of them were thinking. If it came to that, there was no chance for Robbie, anyway.

Jack hadn't liked the idea, either, and if he was being honest with himself, it scared the hell out of him. But he didn't see any other option. If it was him, he couldn't talk to him, he'd have no control. And Rob had volunteered, as awkwardly and as long as it had taken. "If...me, you c'n...talk. Make him...under...stand." "But he could-" "Could what? Kill...me?" Jack had had to smile at that. It was true, it'd be hard to kill a zombie.

He wasn't sure how it'd worked. A little cut with the knife, a twitch of the eye, a glitch, and Rob grabbing his arm. And now he was watching Anti frown in confusion as he stared at what he generally considered to be himself. "What is this?" It was odd hearing a full sentance come out of Rob's mouth, especially in that voice. "What a-am I? What have you d-done?" His voice seemed to be getting more stable, which seemed to unsettle him further. "Relax. You can stay for as long as it takes to do this." "What have you done?" he repeated, scowling as he looked down at his grey hands and striped shirt, picked up a piece of the purple fringe over his eyes. "Why are you still here?" "Robbie lent us his...services." "He...let me do this?" His eyes narrowed and he grinned suddenly. "You think you can reason with me, don't you? That's why you let him do this." "That's what I hoped, yeah," Jack nodded, leaning against the wall, hoping he looked casual. "Easier to talk with a willin' host?" "So much easier. Fits like a glove." He reached for the knife in Jack's hand, but it was jerked out of his reach. That was when Anti realized he was tied down, to a newly installed ring in the wall. He giggled. "You're funny, Jack. You think you can stop me." "No, not stop. Just...come to an agreement. And we're not total idiots." "Well, in that case," Anti spread his arms wide, grinning insanely. "I'm all ears." "Good." Jack paused. Where to start? What to say? If the others knew what he was planning... "First off, you're not allowed to hurt them. Any of them. Schneep, Chase, Jackie, you leave them alone. And Chase's kids. You're not allowed to hurt anyone." "I'm not allowed?" He laughed again. "How would you stop me?" "How have I always stopped you? You'll always be their villain, Anti, you don't scare me anymore. You can't do anything I don't want you to." "Bullshit." He twitched. "I spent an entire month doing things you didn't want." His tone was mocking, and it made Jack jump at the next shriek. "THEY LOVE ME! THEY LET IT HAPPEN! OVER AND OVER!" "Enough of your stupid catchphrases! Jesus, do you ever shut up? Are you gonna let me finish or not?" He was proud that his voice didn't shake. Anti gestured condescendingly for him to continue. Jack looked at the ground for the next part. "You can't let Signe know what's happening. You can never be in Brighton, nowhere near my family or my friends. I'll go somewhere else, I'll tell Signe I'm visiting someone. Pj said he'd help with that part." Anti seemed to be getting it now. "You're seriously doing this? Do they know what you're doing?" He jerked his head at the door, and the sound it made would've been worrying if his host had been a living person. He thumped his chest. "Does he know what you're doing? Maybe we have more in common that I thought!" "We have nothing in common," Jack said shortly. "You're the one making a deal with the devil," he smirked. "Last thing," Jack persisted. "No one knows it's real, and you're gonna keep it that way. You get one day a year, and little appearances when I give the okay." "So exactly what I've been doing since I got here? But you won't fight me." "And you don't get to hurt anyone." "Jack...I like how you think." His skin crawled as Anti smiled at him. For a second it was as if he was looking at himself, the purple and stripes replaced with flashes of green and black. He steeled himself. "Have we got a deal?" Anti nodded, laughing again. Jack extended his hand, the one not holding the knife. "Then okay. I'll let you in."

Chase jumped to his feet at the same time that Dap and Shawn jumped back from the door, and Jackie's and Schneep's heads whipped around. A knock. Dap was closest to the handle, he turned it and the five of them nearly fell into the room in their rush to get inside. All of them were looking frantically between the two figures, desperate to make sure they were alright. Rob looked shaken, but alright, if, if it was possible, a little paler than usual. Jack looked just the same as he had, a small, sheepish smile on his face. "Hey guys." "By Jesus, Jack, you can't be doin' that to us again!" Shawn yelled angrily. Dap had to be held back from slapping him, pointing aggressively at his watch. "It took longer than I thought, I know, I'm sorry," Jack mumbled, not meeting any of their eyes. Chase frowned. "Jack, dude, you okay? What'd he do?" "He...he agreed. He's not going to hurt anyone." "How?" Schneep demanded, "How did you get him to agree to zis? Vhat haff you done, Sean?" Jack jumped a little at the doctor's use of his real name. None of the egos ever called him that, Schneep must have been royally pissed. But he wasn't suspicious in the way that Chase was. "Nothing! Nothing! We just...talked." "About what?" "It's none of your-" "Of course it's our fucking business," Chase growled, more serious than anyone had seen him since the divorce. "I have kids, Jack. I need to know they'll be safe." Jack looked at him for a long moment, long enough to scare him. And then he looked at the ground and wouldn't look back up. "I promise, Chase. I promise your kids are safe." "That's not-" He stopped himself, took a breath. "Jack...tell me you didn't do anything stupid.” Jack smiled shakily, looking up to finally meet Chase’s eyes. "Aren't I always doing something stupid?"

Chase didn't answer, and he didn't laugh in relief like all the others did. He was the only one who'd seen it, and Jack knew it. That flash of green in his eyes? That was going to haunt him.

What've you done, Jack?

thanks for the mention, my dudes!

Hey! You help run the WKM theory blog right? Do you have the old summaries of the episodes bookmarked somewhere? I've been trying to find them

Well, there are a few from a few different people, and I can’t seem to find any of the Chapter one things, but I hope this list is helpful! 

Chapter 2:Ironwoman’s theorySong’s theory

Chapter 3: Em’s theory Ironwoman’s theory@likepuppetsonastring’s theory, with links to their previous theories at the end.

Chapter 4:Em’s theoryIronwoman’s theorySong’s theory

@wkm-theories archive is here if you want to dig around through the other posts and theories not tied to specific chapters. Most of those above were written before the explanation livestream, and when the livestream did come, Song kept track of all the answers given in these posts:Pt. 1Pt. 2Pt. 3

I hope this was helpful! 

Song = @thedundundunnnsongEm = @valleyofroguesIronwoman = @ironwoman359 (aka, me)

Just a Game. (A WKM Oneshot)

1:00 am. The Colonel hadn't had this much fun in ages. The night seemed to be passing in a multi-color blur, with lots of games and a bit too much drink. He could barely breathe for laughing as he stumbled into his seat at the bar, watching the butler and Mr. Lincoln help Damien to right himself, and doubling up again as he stumbled into the now empty keg beside him, grinning wildly and chuckling with the rest of them. "How he's still doing that, at his age," Mark laughed as he slumped into the seat beside him, "I'll never know. Damien's a tough old lad." William huffed and turned slightly away, making Mark sigh heavily. "Colonel-" "William." "But I've always-" "You lost that right years ago." Mark frowned and looked down at the floor. "Will. I know we didn't part on the best of terms...There was a lot of bad blood between us." "Yes," Will replied shortly, wanting Mark to get to the point. Mark shuffled, and after a pause, continued. "What do you say we put this quarrel to rest, eh?" He narrowed his eyes at the grinning actor. "How do you suggest we do that?" "A game. Just a game." He spread his arms wide and offered what he probably thought was a winning smile. To the Colonel it looked like a shit-eating grin. "Something that'll give us an opportunity for revenge, and a sure-fire way of knowing what fate wants from us." He seemed to laugh at his own private joke.

1:20am The wine cellar was cooler than the rest of the house, exposed stone walls making it feel more like a cave than a room in a lavish mansion. William had never liked the cold, and liked it less now, sharing it with the one person he'd give anything to be rid of. Mark pulled a bottle off the wall and offered it to the Colonel, handing it to him with a small smile. "1982. Good year for wine." The Colonel didn't move to take it from him. "Then you drink it." "I would," Mark sighed, "but you know I can't. Not good for my health, you know." He knew, of course. He'd still rather Mark drink it than him. Mark put the bottle back down on the shelf and put his hands in the pockets of his robe "What about this game you proposed?" The Colonel frowned, leaning against the wall, hoping he appeared casual. "Ah, yes," Mark smiled again, and then he did something rather unexpected. He pointed to the silver revolver tucked into William's belt. William's hand went to it immediately, and Mark shook his head. "Im not suggesting we duel, if that's what  you're thinking. I'm unarmed." He said it as if it meant "harmless". "I was going to suggest a bit of Russian Roulette. You've always loved that one." "Bullshit. As if I'm going to let you point my own gun at me, after all this time, after Celine-" "William! Please." Mark took a step toward him, but made no move to take the gun. Instead he seemed to be pleading, one hand stretched toward him as if he'd like to comfort him, but a look from him stopped his advance. "I'm tired of all this fighting. I'm tired of having to go through Damien to talk to you, and as for Celine...I..." He shook his head slightly. "She's made her own choices. I never had any control over what she did, and yes, it hurt. It hurt like hell, but...Will, I just want my brother back." Dear god, did he actually have tears in his eyes? Maybe it was the drink, maybe it was the fact that he was home again, after so long, maybe it was just pure stupidity, but William pulled the gun from his belt slowly, and nodded. "One round. If I shoot you, it's your own fault." "Yes. Yes, of course," Mark grinned widely. "I can't blame you."

1:25am Mark watched the Colonel load just one chamber of the gun, looking as if he wanted to help when his liquor-loosened grip nearly dropped the bullet on the floor, but letting him have this. William handed him the revolver, and watched him spin it. This wasn't a good idea. This was dangerous. This was mad. But life needs a bit of madness, doesn't it? That's what he kept telling himself. Mark aimed carefully, and suddenly William was staring down the barrel of his own gun, and he wasn't going to get to say goodbye to Damien, he'd never see Celine again, and what would Mark say, how would he explain-? Click. William barely flinched, but raised an eyebrow at his grinning gunman. "See? Looks like fate's on your side, eh, old friend?" He handed the gun back over. "Your turn." "Mark...I can't..." "I trust you." Mark stepped out to switch places with him, and suddenly he was pointing a gun directly at Mark's chest. How had the other man kept it steady? The room was fairly spinning, and the gun was awkward in his hand, and the trigger was too thin, too fiddly. "Go on, then. Take your shot. Fair is fair, after all." "This is ridiculous." "Of course it is! But why not live a little? Life's-" "For the living. Yes, but..." "I took my shot at you, for stealing my...for...for Celine's choice. And for leaving us for Africa, and for the fight we never finished. And it's your turn now. I know I've not been the best friend to you. I know you blame me for Celine's leaving, and for...for what happened over there." "That was an accident." The words were harsh,  but Mark nodded calmly. "I know, Will, I know. I don't blame you. I never did. You're still my friend, even after all this time. I know that's hard to believe, but...Please. Colonel. Let me absolve my sins, won't you? Just one shot. Just a quick click, and we can put this all behind us. Wouldn't you like that?" He would. He so very much would. He wanted so badly to come home, he wanted the boy who'd taken him in and become his family to come back to him, and let him back in. And just one click...one harmless little click...he could have it all, all over again. Why shouldn't he trust him? After all, like he said, it was Celine's own choice. Perhaps her leaving had set him back on the straight and narrow. Perhaps he really was sorry, really saw how much he'd hurt them, how much he'd hurt him. But even as he pulled the gun back up to aim, something felt wrong, and the glint in Mark's eyes was off, something wasn't right, but he had to be wrong, didn't he? Couldn't he trust his friend? Just a quick click, nothing wrong with that...

Click. BANG.

1:30am It was like watching a ragdoll fall. And the blood matched the crimson night robe. And the stain was slow to spread, and the wine bottle had fallen and shattered and added to the stain, and he couldn't move. "It...it was an accident...Mark, it was an accident, I-I didn't...I wouldn't...I swear, Mark...?" Mark's eyes were still open, glassy, and his face expressionless. his legs and arms were twisted at impossible angles. "It was an accident, I s-swear..." The stain was spreading, and someone upstairs, probably Damien, laughed raucously over some joke William had missed. Someone upstairs...someone was going to see. Someone was going to ask questions. William stumbled up the stairs and slammed the door shut behind him, shambling back into the billiard room. He grunted as the detective put his arm around him, slapped him away, but the detective took it as a threat. Soon they were fighting, and Damien was pulling at the Colonel as the District Attorney was pulling at Mr. Lincoln. Then William was shoving Damien away from him, and he was almost running to his room. He collapsed into bed, watching the ceiling spin above him. Maybe it hadn't been real. Maybe it'd been a dream. He heard people coming up the stairs, thought he heard Damien say something, and the DA reply, laughing but grunting as if in pain. Damien. Dear god, what would Damien think? What would he say? He'd blame him, he'd push him away, he'd lose everything he had left... But...no. No, Damien would understand. He'd explain everything, and Damien, good man, smart man, would understand. He'd take his side, and the DA, of course they'd defend him. They wouldn't let anything bad happen to him, they hadn't last time. They'd never betray him, would they? No, of course not... His last thought as the alcohol in his system dragged him into unconsciousness was that he couldn't be blamed. It was an accident, of course. Just a game.

Not normally an edits kind of gal, but I can do a decent old time photo, and I loved the video, so why not?

my glitchy boy is back. i just got my emo boy back, and lots of story for him, and now my glitchy boy is back with TIME TRAVEL JACK I LOVE YOU.

so! thoughts and theories about the latest video!

-have we decided if Dapper Jack is an ego yet? because I would love for Dapper Jack to be an ego. maybe we can call him Sir Septiceye? or something equally silly or old-timey? are there any decided names for him yet?

-Anti apparently has the power to control time now, which is cool. Does this support him being a demon? Or is it more on the idea of a series of alternate universes that he can hop between? I like that second idea better, I think.

-I wanna say it’s a possession in the last few minutes of the video, rather than “it was me the whole time!!” (primarily bc i wanna have Dapper Jack as an ego) I think the mustache ripping is more of Anti mocking Dap by using his own tropes against him.

-Jack becomes Dap when he time travels, which is very neat. So Dap is literally just Jack, but in old times, very Oh Sir and Charlie Chaplin. He’s also 10000% more adorable.

OH FUCKING HELL

Ya girl got her WKM shirt in the mail today. Surprise! It’s my face. :)

(feat. my bed, my various posters, and my Markiplier Pjorts)

this blog doesn’t support bullying over fictional characters and ships(￣▽￣)ノ

I was listening to this again, with all the new info...and I just...

Dark, all alone at Ego Inc, hours after everyone else has dispersed. It’s been a long day, they’ve been hard at work. And he’s having an internal conversation, as you do when you’ve got three or more minds to listen to at once, when suddenly he sees or thinks of something from the old days. Something completely benign and silly, and he just...loses it, for a few minutes. For a little bit, he just...remembers. For a moment, he can feel that happiness again, and he’s Damien, and Celine, and the District Attorney, and they’re sat around that poker table and Benjamin is betting that Damien can’t do a keg stand and Damien is just drunk enough to try it. And suddenly all three of them are laughing so hard their shared shell is cracking, and they let themselves splinter into parts for a minute just because though it hurts horribly, they feel more real and alive than they have in ages.

The pain from that is what brings them back to reality, though, and the laughter dies off...only for them to look up and see Wilford standing in the doorway looking utterly dumbstruck. He smiles, and for a second, Damien and Celine pull through a little more strongly, because that smile is the Colonel’s, it’s William’s knowing smirk, not Wilford’s manic grin. But then he’s confused again, and shakes his head, the smirk morphing horribly into the grin. He makes some off color joke about Dark falling apart, and wanders off, shooting the wall as he goes.

And Dark is back. And he is alone again.

best quality: his giggles

quick question why tf did i make this

please give me audio edit requests or something i can’t live like this

Made a Darkiplier Playlist, if anyone’s interested.

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXTbogGI5MFHsOLVc8ECZ5FS8MSeU_Uu9

I just thought of something disturbing about Dark’s view of Anti as it now relates to Dark’s backstory.

Dark must fucking hate Anti, but he’s also probably terrified of him. Imagine, you’ve been the only one of your kind for so long, and you know all the pain and torture that goes into creating something like you, and then this happy-go-lucky glitch bitch pops up out of nowhere, murders indiscriminately and seems to enjoy all the pain he’s causing.

And Dark’s actually scared for the first time since he was human, because if that thing is so numb as to enjoy what he’s doing and kill without caring, what has he been through, and where would he stop? He can kill regular humans all he likes, that’s not Dark’s problem, but Anti’s not afraid of anything.

And that puts Wil in danger. And Dark will not have that.

I Dare You. (A WKM Story.)

(A/N: LONG ASS ONESHOT I’M SORRY I’M STILL OBSESSED.)

Every town has their ghost stories, and their haunted places. Some have huge hotels full of sordid affairs and midnight rondesvous gone wrong, some have old farm houses in the backcountry, steeped in the folklore of the hills and the mists of the early mornings. Los Angeles is no exception. There's no shortage of ghosts and spectres haunting the City of Angels, no want for dark pasts and dangerous deeds in this hotbed of Hollywood fame and infamy. Such a case of infamy is that of Markiplier Manor, the huge, sprawling estate of actor Mark Fischbach in the hills that used to house the most influential people in town, back in the early '10s. No one really knows what went down on October 11th, 2017, and the few days that followed. All we had to go on was a pseudo-reporter's rambling blog on tumblr and a few short articles with fantastically gruesome headlines.

"3 Found Butchered in Markiplier Manor." "Public Despair at the Discovery of Mayor Damien Noir's Mutilated Corpse." "Unstable Colonel Ford Prime Suspect in the Murders of Markiplier Manor."

Everyone had a guess. Everyone had a theory. But no one knew the truth. No one knew exactly why, on the 14th of October in 2017, the butler from the manor had come running into the LAPD Headquarters, screaming about demons and murder. What everyone did know, however, was that when the police, with sirens blaring, went to investigate the butler's claims, they'd been sickened to find three rotting corpses scattered around the manor, in various states of dismemberment and decay. They said that the mayor's body was the worst, looking like it'd been torn limb from limb by animals, almost without a single bone that wasn't broken, his tortured form found on the balcony outside the foyer. Then there was the body of a woman later identified as Fischbach's former wife, Celine, found in a small room upstairs, surrounded by occult items. It was practically perfect in appearance, but when they tried to do an autopsy, they found her insides had been practically liquified. The last body was the most tame, a detective by the ironic name of Abraham Lincoln, shot through the right side and left to die slowly at the top of one of the staircases. It was the worst murder case they'd seen in years. They couldn't get anything sensible out of the butler, who, according to his friends and family, had been a perfectly sensible man before the tragedy. But now he was spouting nonesense about "dens of evil" and "forces far beyond our understanding". They did manage to get the names of the other people present at the poker party out of him, and found everyone but the colonel and another party member whose name was never given to the public, and a statement as to the death of Mark Fischbach on the 11th. Mark's body was never found. Of course, the media had opinions as to what had actually happened.

I mulled over the headlines and the stories again in my head as I pulled onto the long gravel driveway, overgrown with weeds and bramble in the years of disuse. A stupid thing had led me to my dismal destination today: a dare. A simple, ridiculous dare among friends, and the fatal phrase, "You're not chicken, are you?" I was never one to turn down a good dare, and honestly, I'd never been particularly superstitious. The worst thing I feared was the cold of this year's record-breaking October nights, and the animals that had likely taken up residence in the absence of human habitation. Stepping out of my borrowed vehicle and shouldering my duffle bag of provisions, I surveyed the area, and my first thoughts were, I won't be lacking in places to camp out for the night, that's for sure. I trekked up to the rusting gate and chucked my belongings over it, climbing (with much difficulty) after them and landing about as gracefully as they had. Excellent, I thought as I rubbed a bruise on my knee, only another thousand yards to walk before I'm actually inside this place. The front garden was beautiful, even in its wild state. There was something to be said for the mossy stonework and the dry fountains, a kind of dystopian beauty that a city-slicker like me seldom gets to see, that made the walk bearable, and before I knew it, I was at the wide front doors, testing the handle to see if it was locked. Fortune was on my side, or so I believed, and I found it open, so stepped into the once-lavish front hall. The ceilings were high and covered in cobwebs, and nearly every surface was caked with a layer of dust thick enough to be snow, including a shattered mirror whose shards glittered on the table below it. The sight of my own exercise-reddened face in it gave me an unexpected chill, which I chalked up to the weather hastily, and I decided to move on. As I walked, I glanced up the stairs, wondering if these were the ones that'd once seen a detective's final breaths, and the panicked screams of a man running for his life. What had these walls seen, I wondered? If they could talk, what tale of terror would they recount? My eyes wandered into the foyer as I passed, and I was forced to stop and double take. Lines of weather-worn yellow caution tape lay strewn around a body's outline in front of the fireplace. This time, I accepted the chill as my own reaction. There'd been no mention of a fourth body. Was this where Fischbach had met his end? Was this the place where the detective had sussed out the murderer, and decided to confront him, thereby sealing his own fate? I didn't think I wanted to know the answer, and I decided to try to look for a bedroom, as it was getting late. I climbed the stairs by phone-flashlight, careful not to touch the railings as I went. A dark stain on one wall had me frozen on the top step. That was the unmistakable stain of blood, and the discolored wall around it looked almost like an outline of its own. I had a moment of silence for the fallen man, then moved quickly past his old resting place to the hall beyond, and into an open bedroom out of the line of sight of the stairs. Perhaps I'd sleep better if I couldn't see it; I'd underestimated my own detachedness. The room I'd entered looked as if it'd been through hell. There were books and papers all over the floor, the musty bed was in total disarray, and a table in a nook on my left had been overturned, scattering a few broken picture frames to the ground. I dared to look at one of the pictures, and found smiling back at me the same faces that'd smiled out of the articles proclaiming their deaths and disappearances. The mayor, the colonel, the actor, and the ex. Looking away quickly, I decided to set up camp and drown my fears in a few hours of portable game system distraction. My bag thudded dully down beside the bed, and I thudded dully down beside it, rummaging and humming an old happy tune to break the silence. I couldn't help but feel that something was inherantly wrong with this place, but I brushed that aside. I had no use for silly superstition and fanciful interpretations of old stains and pictures. After all, this place had been empty for going on fifty years. The killer was either long gone or long dead; I had nothing to worry about.

It was 2:15am when I squinted at my dying phone's screen, startled out of my uneasy sleep by a loud thud downstairs. "It's an animal," my brain told me lazily. My heart, however, wasn't listening, and was instead trying to leap out of the frosted glass doors to freedom and safety. Sighing, I stood and stretched. It looked like tonight was going to be an exploring night rather than a resting one. I pulled the real flashlight out of my bag, grabbed the extra batteries and stuck them in my pocket, put my phone in there with them, on power-saving mode, and went for a walk, carefully avoiding the small room to my right, and the stairs down the hall. This place was definitely living up to the status of the word "manor": it seemed like an endless maze of halls and bedrooms and bathrooms and studies and media rooms and dining halls. Even the kitchen was enormous, and from its window I could see the vast balcony and the backyard that seemed more like a safari jungle, the green-watered swamp of a pool its oasis and the dilapidated golf-holes its plains of the Sarangheti. I wandered without thinking for the most part, trying to distract myself from the ever-lasting night with searching games. Where were the drinks stored (I didn't go down into the wine cellar), where were the games played (I didn't touch the royal flush still sitting on the poker table)? This worked until I found myself pushing open a door and the beam of my light fell across what I can only describe as a crime show "murder board". Red yarn connected various fading, fragile Polaroids of a bygone age's people, some of whom I recognized from the news, some of whom were strangers to me. Yellowing articles and criminal profiles were thumb tacked to the cork boards that lined the walls. Looking a little closer, I could see that they were not the sensationalizations that I carried in my phone's picture gallery, but various stories of the lives of the victims. An old campaign poster that bore Mayor Noir's reserved, smiling face was connected to an article about one of Mark's movies and its failure in the box office. A front page bearing the title "Safari Hunt Gone Wrong!" sat in front of a copy of the marriage certificate for the Fischbachs. Even the faces of the chef and the butler glared judgmentally back at me, their records sitting beside them as if to ask what my credentials were to enter this dangerous estate. What investigation had led the detective here, then? I frowned at some of the hand-written notes peppering the boards, but I couldn't make heads or tails of it. The most I could get was that Fischbach had been in financial trouble, and the mayor had apparently been working with him on...something. The colonel, it seemed, had always been a bit of a wild card, and perhaps had been a very dangerous man; several of the notes seemed to accuse him of the murder of Mark Fischbach. Oddly, none of the other murders were mentioned. Celine Fischbach was notoriously absent. Another thud, close to my room this time, shocked me out of my investigation, and I hid as I recognized the sounds of footsteps. I was technically trespassing, though who owned the land now I didn't know. Perhaps my friends had thought it funny to call the police and send them to pick me up. I decided that they'd pay for that later, but my main concern was staying out of sight. I ducked under the desk and held my breath as the footsteps came into the room. I didn't think about it until much, much later, when I was recounting the tale to my awestruck friends over mediocre school lunches, but from the moment I heard the first steps, a high pitched whine had droned in the background, as if some feedback from a cellphone on a cheap radio were being played constantly.  At the time, I was more focused on not making a noise as what I assumed was a cop wandered around the room, stopping every once and a while, and occasionally pacing on one end of the room, as if he were studying something on that wall. There was one point when the man had stood so near to the desk that I'd been able to see him in profile, but not being able to use my flashlight without giving myself away, I hadn't seen much other than the outline of a man in a suit, with disheveled hair falling in a sweep over the left side of his face, the only side I could see. Oddly, it was as if he were giving off a little light of his own, a red and blue hue defining some of his smaller features, like his stubbley jaw and the creases in the elbow of the otherwise immaculate suit. Perhaps he'd brought something with him to light his way, some weird lamp or flashlight. Maybe it was his phonescreen. Either way, this was a detective, I guessed then, fervently ignoring the sense of wrongness that radiated from him like waves, though why they'd sent him and not a normal beat cop, I didn't know. My heart almost stopped when I was almost certain I heard him speak, a low, gruff voice that seemed to have too many layers, but it was so quietly that I couldn't tell whether it'd been "You've stayed" or "Betrayed." I was certain that I heard, "Never again," though. By this point, keeping myself from shivering was a constant, conscious effort.

"It's quite amusing to me that you think you can hide by simply being out of my sight and 'keeping quiet.'" This time, there was no guesswork. This time, my heart did stop, and I couldn't tell whether I was going to shit myself or scream. But the man didn't seem to care that I was there. He simply seemed to want to acknowledge my presence, as if out of a want not to be rude in ignoring me. "Stay, if you like. Read all of these old lies. Make guesses, everyone else seems to have done so already. Let's see if you can get any closer to the truth of the famous 'Murders at Markiplier Manor'." I could practically hear the cold smile leaving his voice, and it was as if part of it had dropped half an octave, if that makes any sense. "Or you can go now, and forget you ever saw this place. Pretend it's just another mystery tale to tell each other while you waste your time with meaningless relationships." It went back to the pitch it'd been before, and the cold smile was back in it, if backed by a bit of bite this time. "It is, of course, your choice."

He never said another word that I heard, and it seemed to take forever for him to leave, but when he had gone, I stayed hidden for another long minute, until I was sure he had left the house (though I ignored that fact that I never once heard a door open). I stood shakily, flicking  my flashlight on again, and froze. There was only a single set of footprints in the room, and that was the diamond-patterned prints of my own Chucks in the dust on the old wood floor. I don't think I'd ever run faster in my life, or broken more rules of the road, than I did as I got the hell out of that place.

Everyone always asks me what I think I saw. Was it a ghost? Or a demon? Maybe a shade of the mayor, or of the actor? All I can respond is...I don't know. I don't know what I saw, or what spoke to me, or what those words meant, in the long run. And I'm certainly no closer to a positive ID of the murderer than anyone else. But there're certain things I never say, like how I don't think the butler was mad anymore, and how it was almost as if I could hear voices calling as I left, the strange red-and-blue light never completely dissipating until I had scrambled back over the front gate and shakily started my car, not daring to even turn on the headlights until I had made it back off of the estate, just praying and following the gravel path back to the main road by memory and feel. If you want a solid opinion, then here's what I think: I think I never want to know what I encountered, and that I never want to encounter it again. I think I'm going to follow his advice, and let the mystery stay unsolved. 

After all, it makes for a damn good story, doesn't it?

“I would gladly read fanfiction of this exact scenario.”

Damn, Mark, you beat us fanfic writers to the punch. And you did it better (AND MORE PAINFULLY) than we would have.

Who Killed Markiplier: Mini Update

Lots of people are throwing around the idea of Damien being Dark, and of the Colonel being Wilford. And other people are saying that Who Killed Markiplier could be an origin story for the Egos. Lemme just say, I would love for this to be true. I would love for Mark to have concocted some elaborate backstory for his sides.But I think it’s highly unlikely. I really don’t think the Egos are involved at all (The Jims excepted, of course.)

However, I still love the thought. I would gladly read fanfic of this exact scenario.

Aha. So I’ve been spelling Celine correctly.

Also William. Ouch, my heart.

Also I love that the Chef doesn’t have a name. XD

Alone. (A Who Killed Markiplier Drabble)

The first thing he noticed was that he was in a tremendous amount of pain. His chest was on fire and his head was pounding, it was like every muscle in his body was rebelling against him. His eyes were the only thing that seemed to be working, and all he could see was the domed ceiling and the chandelier above him, oddly tinted and out of focus.

As it came back into focus, he noticed a second problem: he didn’t know who or where he was. Through the blinding pain, there was no name coming, no picture of what he looked like, no friends or family’s faces or names, no fond memories...no memories at all. Just a vague feeling of...dread? Or anger?

He grunted as his arms and legs finally decided to work for him to lift him up, so that he was panting and kneeling on the marble floor. Shaking his head, he looked up, finally trying to guess where he was. His eyes locked with someone else’s.

He was starting backwards, a voice in his head screaming “MURDERER” before he had a chance to think for himself. The other man was on his feet in an instant.

“Oh no, no! It’s okay!”

Colonel. The old title came to him as the man talked about thinking he was dead. Had he been dead? The thought distracted him for a moment so that he lost some of what the man was saying. Surely he wasn’t dead, he was thinking, he was here...and yet...why could he see the Colonel, in front of him, a gun smoking in his right hand? Why could he see two hands...his hands...rising to his eyes, covered in blood? He could almost hear a voice, the Colonel’s panicked voice, saying...

“Did Damien put you up to this?” The name was like a bucket of ice water over his back. He knew it, and he’d been known by it. But...that wasn’t right, was it? Why hadn’t the man recognized him then if he was this “Damien” he seemed to know well? He wanted to ask, but the Colonel wasn’t listening anymore, and he couldn’t seem to make his voice work anyway. As the Colonel wandered away from him, calling for someone to answer, Damien again, and someone called Celine, names he barely knew but felt like he had always known, his heart gave a funny pang. He almost went after the strange officer, going so far as to take a step toward him, mouth forming a name he didn’t remember, but his eyes were drawn to the silver and black cane the Colonel had put down on the table. As he picked it up, another shot of pain went through him, and he looked up.

The face in the mirror before him...wasn’t him. It might once have been, he wasn’t sure, but now...it was different. Hollow, and gaunt...monochrome...

Dark.

He scowled at the face, and it scowled back. More pain stabbed through his neck, and he twisted it to try and alleviate it. There was a loud crack, and when he looked back in the mirror, straightening himself out, he knew he hated that face. But it wasn’t his face, it was the face of a man who had once worn it that he hated, who’d forced him into it now. Vague memories that didn’t make any sense swirled in his head, and they didn’t seem to matter anymore, except for being the cause of the heavy, burning anger that seemed to be all he could feel, the piercing ring that stuck in his ears. There was only one thought in his head as he turned away from the mirror with a jerk and went to clean himself up and get to work:

Mark would pay.

Guys...I just thought of a way to make this hurt more.

These guys aren’t from our dimension. These guys didn’t know how to use the power they were given, and while Dark, the combination of Damien, Celene, and our unnamed character, took his time learning to control it, Wilf just wandered. And I think Dark went looking for him, on the pretext of “He could be useful.”

They both ended up here, in our dimension, and found our Mark. And both of them were so broken from the tragedy that they couldn’t see that this Mark was everything that theirs wasn’t, or maybe isn’t. He’s a good guy, a hero, a friend, well loved and respected. They don’t understand that they never existed here. They don’t understand that he never hurt them here, and that he never would, should they tell him who they were and what happened.

They’re trying to get revenge on our Mark because they can’t find a way back to theirs.

What’s devastating is that these are two people who loved each other, who were best friends, who had a history together. And after losing everyone, his killer turned out to be Damien. And that’s why, even now, as heads of the Ego Table, both Dark and Wilford respect one another. They were both driven into madness and vengeance – and the only thing that remains is them and a primary objective.

FUCKING SPOILERS OF EXCITEMENT

BEFORE I START MY EXCITED BABBLE, WHICH I WILL, AND IN ALL CAPS, I JUST WANNA THANK TEAMIPLIER FOR THIS AMAZING SERIES OF VIDEOS, I HAVE LOVED EVERY SECOND OF IT AND YOU BET YOUR ASS I JUST ORDERED MYSELF A WHO KILLED MARKIPLIER SHIRT. IF YOU CALL ME ON STAGE ON SUNDAY I’M GONNA HUG ALL OF YOU SO FUCKING TIGHTLY.

IT WAS A FUCKING BACKSTORY IT WAS IT WAS IT WAS

OH MY FUCKING GOD WE WERE DARKIPLIER

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

THE COLONEL WAS WARFSTACHE HE WENT INSANE FROM THE GRIEF!!!!!

DAMIEN BECAME DARK WITH US!!!!

HOLY FUCKING SHIT

MARK WAS THE VILLAIN ALL ALONG

I WAS ALMOST  FUCKING RIGHT

I HAD ALMOST ALL THE DETAILS RIGHT

I WAS ALMOST COMPLETELY RIGHT EXCEPT THAT MARK WAS THE VILLAIN OH MY GOD!!!!!

Not a theory, not a fic, just a thank you, because I totally agree. I love my fellow Jims (lol). :)

Unrelated, but-

Can I just say it has been so much fun, and such a pleasure to work alongside the fandom and the other mods on this blog? We’ve all made a super-team, helping each other with our ideas and supporting opposing theories – everyone has been so civil and, well, a pleasure to work with and talk to! Thank you guys so much. @markiplier ’s community is beyond rewarding to be a part of. You guys are great! 💖 - Em

I saw @wkm-theories pairing this up with my theory (Thank you for all the compliments by the way, how sweet!), and I thought I’d show it to you guys. What do you think? Does it add credit? DOes it flesh out some details I missed?

2 hours remain...

DEMONS!!!

Well these just keep getting better and better! Sorry for getting my theory out so late today, Thursdays are my insane days at university, I only just got a chance to sit down and watch chapter 3. And what a chapter! Without further ado, I’ll jump right in. 

Right away, it is very obvious that Celine has a long history with both Damien and the Colonel. The Colonel acts more vulnerable with her than any other person we’ve seen so far. He even says that he “trusts Celine with all his heart,” and he stutters after saying that. He is ALWAYS confident, but it is clear that Celine is capable of knocking him off guard. 

Also, the use of the line “I trust Celine with all my heart.” is interesting. That’s not something you say about a close friend. That’s not even something you say about a family member. That is something you say about someone you have deep feelings for, romantic feelings. Remember this picture?

Mark and Celine are being very friendly in it. Damien and the Colonel, not so much. While Damien seems mostly just worried, the Colonel’s body language and stance make him appear very angry. We know he and Mark had a major falling out, Damien even went so far as to say that the Colonel hated him. Nothing like a little love triangle to break up a friendship.

And then there’s the Mayor. Celine calls him Damien, which we’ve only seen the Colonel do before. Everyone else in the story calls him Mr. Mayor, or just the Mayor. The nature of their conversations also suggests a long history. I think its safe to say that she’s known Mark for as long as Damien and the Colonel have, and that they have all known each other since they were young. She also states that she’s “never been very comfortable in this house,” implying in the same way the Colonel did in yesterday’s episode that she’s familiar with it

It is also interesting that Damien seems surprised at her knowledge of the occult and arcane arts, thinking she’s not the type to “get mixed up in all this.” That language implies that he also doesn’t put much stock in the unseen. This is further supported by Celine’s insistence that there’s more to the world than he knows. 

He also seems to want to protect her; asking if she’s alright, telling her to be careful, wanting to stay with her to protect her. It’s worth noting that Celine bites back against his desire to stay inside with her. “I don’t need help, especially from you!” This is just speculation, but if he tried to intervene and fix things back when Mark and the Colonel were fighting, but only ended up making things worse, her reluctance to accept his help would make a lot of sense. One thing’s for sure, these four friends’ seemingly tight bonds have gone under a lot of strain. 

As for Celine herself, she’s her own little ball of mystery. First off, why did she come to the manor today? The Butler, while he appears to know her, says that she’s come “at a most inconvenient time.” Meaning that he wasn’t expecting her, which seems unusual for him. She is clearly sensitive to the occult, and I don’t mean just because she’s been trained. Based on her conversation with Damien, we can gather that the arcane arts are a new thing in her life, but she remarks that she’s “Never felt very comfortable in this house.” So she has always been sensitive to the other side. And there has always been something off about that house. This is further evidenced by the Groundskeeper George and his reluctance to set foot in “that mad house.” 

As a side note, “Celine” is a latin name that means “heaven.” “Selene” is a name that means “brightness,” and is a greek deity of the moon. So Teamiplier has taken care in connecting her to the powers beyond. 

Speaking of the powers beyond, her seance was bizarre. While you were apparently there to “commune with the dead,” you see only events from the past, all surrounding the Colonel, and then one event from the future. It is this future event makes you pull out, presumably because you did not recognize it. When Celine sees your drawing, she says that “this answers nothing.” If she grew up around the house, or at least is familiar with it, then she likely recognized that it was George, and as she is already aware of him and does not suspect him, this is why she insists that you “go back” into the seance. But, before we can, we are interrupted. Despite everyone’s protests, Celine insists that she is not done. 

Our talk with George is short, but enlightening. He seems a harmless enough fellow, and he and the Chef apparently have a good friendship, but it’s his comments about the house that have my attention, as they no doubt have everyone’s. 

The first thing that caught my eye is that he says “murdered” and there’s…no lightning. There’s been more lightning than usual this episode as Celine tries to get them to stop saying the word “murder.” But George says it, without concern or consequence. In fact, he says everything without concern. He seems to worry about nothing but keeping the grounds. Until the Detective says that they’re going inside; then George’s entire demeanor changes. He becomes serious, and speaks to the Detective like he’s capable of putting him in his place, but just couldn’t be bothered to before. He says it’s been 15 years since going into the house, and he’s not going to go in now. 

What strikes me about this is that he is the only one who hasn’t been in the house, and he’s also the only one who can speak freely without lightning accenting his sentences. That makes me think that whatever is causing the lightning is INSIDE THE HOUSE. And whatever it is, George is at least somewhat aware of it. He would only go back into that house for one reason….

Which of course immediately occurs. There is DEFINITELY something wrong with that house. And it’s been growing steadily stronger this whole time. Which brings me to my final major conclusion about today. 

Celine has become possessed by whatever force is present in the house. The same force that will eventually become Darkiplier. A force I happen to think is, based on the Jim News segment of today, some sort of demon. While I find those segments hilarious, there is some substance to them. Tiny clues that point to whatever’s going on in this manor. Speaking of what’s going on in the manor, I think this is what happened. 

Celine has always been connected to the spiritual world, but recently underwent training to better understand and interact with it. While training is good, she seems to be a novice, based on Damien’s surprise at her involvement in such practices. And a novice would be no match for the force that is at work here. When she opens a channel to the spirit world in the seance, she is leaving herself vulnerable to the demon’s possession. Some evidence for this: 

Celine has been acting decently normal until this moment, when she says “Now that my eyes are opened, something tells me that there are dark forces surrounding this manor.” She then begins the seance:

She doesn’t open herself up to the dark forces in this manor until this moment, when she begins to channel the spirit world to help you see the past, and then the future. Her eyes remain closed, and she still seems intent on helping find out the truth. Until here:

Just before you go into your vision, she opens her eyes and looks up at you. “Keep your enemies close…” she says, in a deep voice. Her face is twisted into a creepy grin, that we see again in the ending scene. The demon has entered her, and it is at this moment that things begin to go wrong. Before the seance, she was calm. Afterwards, she is much more volatile. Yelling at you, her friends…I don’t think she realizes that she’s been possessed yet, but it’s hard to ignore that kind of negative influence on you (like how wearing a horcrux brings out the worst aspects of your personality). 

But if the demon that is behind all of this is in fact Darkiplier, what about our previous theories about the Mayor? It’s hard to ignore the similarities. Well, this is my theory: Damien does not resemble Darkiplier. Darkiplier resembles Damien. Now, this is getting slightly into head cannon territory, but bear with me. I’ve tried to base my ideas about how Darkiplier works off of what we’e canonically seen as much as possible. I’ll briefly summarize here, but if you want a more in depth explanation of how I think Dark works, you can read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11149080/chapters/24875811 (It’s only 3 short chapters, it’s about Markiplier TV mostly).

Basically, I don’t think Darkiplier is directly connected to Markiplier. I think that Dark is a force that can take many forms, and that it choses Markiplier to imitate because of the influence Mark has over his community. While Mark uses this power for good, an evil force could use it in horrible ways. This is based on what Mark said in his Feb 2017 charity stream about Dark existing in another world, bleeding into this one, and admiring what Mark has accomplished. To me, that says that he wants that kind of recognition, but doesn’t have it in his natural state. Anyway, back to Who Killed Markiplier: I think that the entity of Dark was residing in this house, and then it possesses Celine here in this scene. As I’ve said and as we’ve seen, Damien cares very deeply for Celine. I don’t know if it’s a romantic feeling or just a deep friendship, but as others have pointed out, when she arrives, your safety takes a backseat. He still cares about you, but she is now the most important person in the room. 

I think that Damien offered himself to the Dark entity in Celine’s place. Damien is a powerful man; he is a leader and he is in a position of authority. That would appeal to this creature more than Celine would, so it takes that offer, leaving Celine’s body and possessing Damien instead. The reason that Darkiplier and Damien share so many mannerisms is that old aspects of Damien’s personality are still visible in the Darkiplier persona. Darkiplier then lurked around Markiplier’s channel, still seeing the entertainment industry as the best way to reach mass amounts of people. My previous conflict with the timeline not matching the real world origin of Darkiplier could easily be explained away by whatever dimension Dark is from existing on a different time scale, or outside of time altogether. This very well could be the origin of Darkiplier: A demon that possessed an innocent man who only wanted to protect his friends.

Whew! That was easily the longest I’ve spent on one of these (almost 2 hours). Thank you for reading, and as always, let me know what you think! I’m aware I didn’t cover my #Markiplier Lives angle in this post, I’m going to address this episode’s evidence for that in another one. This one has gone on long enough. Until the next theory!

Who Killed Markiplier? Here’s What Happened.

Guys, it’s been a long road, and we’re not even close to done yet. But based on all the previous evidence, I’ve come up with something of a story line/theory. I present to you, good people of the internet and the Markiplier fandom, who I think killed Markiplier:

THE PAST

Mark, the Colonel, and Damien were all childhood friends. Mark and Damien started with the same social status, very middle class, but the Colonel comes from an old military family with lots of money and power, which is why he inherits the manor. They stayed friends as they grew older and gained status, Damien through politics, the Colonel through the army, and Mark through the entertainment industry, though to keep himself afloat, he moves in with the Colonel. (Based on the pictures, "I will not be called a murderer in my own home!", and the Colonel's initial theory.)

At some point, they were introduced to Celine, and she became fast friends with them all. They all developed feelings for her, and tried to impress her in various ways, but Mark went the farthest. Unbeknownst to any of them, he made a deal with a larger force for her heart, which angered both Damien and the Colonel. But while Damien wanted to keep his friendships in tact, the Colonel, always the most firey of the three, had a massive argument with Mark, insisting that the fame had gone to his head. Mark wouldn't explain the deal, and so the fight gets so bad that the Colonel is kicked out of his own home by Mark, who's now under the force's influence, and drops out of touch with Mark and Celine. Damien can't pick a side, so stays in touch with both of them. (Based on George the Groundskeeper’s speech about why he won’t enter the manor, the Possession, the Colonel and Damien's argument, and the pictures.)

It was shortly after this that Celine and Damien discovered what Mark had done. Damien wanted to keep it quiet, per his aspirations for office and the bad publicity it would cause both him and Mark, but Celine was disgusted, and left them both to find answers on her own. Damien and Mark stayed friends, but were more distant than they had been. This is where we come in. We befriend Damien and Mark sometime after all of this, and are never told about it. Damien rises to the position of Mayor, Mark grows more famous, and we're appointed DA. (Based on our invitation, our not knowing the Colonel previously, "I don't need anyone's help, especially yours," Celine's occult interests and Damien's reactions to them, and the pictures.)

THE PRESENT

Now the deal Mark made had to have some provisions. Maybe one of them was a time constraint. He had 15 years to enjoy his fame, and then the being would come to collect his end of the bargain, and maybe Mark didn't know what the reprocussions would be. When the day was coming up, however, Mark knew he wanted to see all of his friends one last time, so he invited them back to the manor, on the pretext of a poker night. Celine refused, but had a bad feeling about it, and too late decided to come and warn her old friends. Damien of course accepted, and managed to convince the Colonel to come back. We accepted, thinking nothing of it. Mark also invites the Detective, less as a friend, though he was one, albeit not as close, but more as a precaution, needing to know that his staff was trustworthy and wouldn't be suspected, no matter what, and knowing that there would likely be some kind of crime to investigate later, when he either died or disappeared. (Based on the Detective's speech about knowing Mark, the security footage, "I might be dead tomorrow," Celine knowing the party is happening, the Colonel appearing voluntarily and in a decent mood.)

In the night, after all the festivities are over, everyone goes to bed, except for the Colonel, who's still mad as hell, and very drunk, and very vulnerable. The Force strikes, using the Colonel as a vessel, and fights with and eventually kills Mark, then goes dormant. It stays in him until it's summoned out by Celine the next night. (Based on the party montage, the finding of the body, the Colonel's behavior in Chapter 2, and the Possession.)

But remember guys, this is just a theory. It’s not set in stone, and it doesn’t explain everything. I would love to hear what you guys think, and what I might have missed, and I can’t wait for Chapter 4 tomorrow.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Extras: The Bedroom The Audio Clip The Tumblr Teasers (1, 2, 3, 4)

Who Killed Markiplier? Chapter 3 Update.

WELP LOOKS LIKE I WAS WRONG ABOUT THE EGOS NOT BEING INVOLVED! LOOKS LIKE WE MIGHT BE GETTING A BACKSTORY AFTER ALL!

Links to previous parts:

Chapter 1 theories

Chapter 2 theories

Extras: The Bedroom The Sound Clip

Let’s start with our new characters.

-Celine is an old friend of Mark, Damien, and the Colonel. All three of them appear to either have or have had feelings for her (given the way the Colonel says “Celine...” when he first sees her, Damien’s protectiveness, and the picture from the last part with Mark). Her interest in the occult and the supernatural is a newer development. Either that, or she’s been out of touch with Damien for a while, seeing as he doesn’t know about it. Her “eyes have been opened”, and she seems to want to do anything to get answers, even if it’s dangerous to her health or the health of the people around her.

-George the Groundskeeper has been at the manor for more than 15 years, and there was one incident 15 years ago that has stopped him from ever going in again (UNTIL IT HAPPENS AGAIN). He has served under several different masters (maybe the Colonel at some point?) and doesn’t seem to care at all about any of them. It seems very important to me to note that when he says “murder”, nothing happens.

Now let’s talk about the Seance we have with Celine:

-She hints at there being serious, unknown forces at work, and when the “trance” (for lack of a better word) starts, we hear a very familiar ringing.

-During the trance, we see, in order: the Colonel saying his “In my own home!” line, the Detective telling us the body is gone (and the panning shot to the Colonel on the balcony), the Mayor pondering what we’re celebrating, and George telling us that “employers come and go”.

-When it ends, we draw the groundskeeper (crudely) for Celine, which I think is the audio clip from yesterday (I knew it was a quill!).

-Whatever that trance was terrifies Damien and the Detective.

AND NOW, THE POSSESSION AT THE END:

-There’s a hugely familiar ringing around the whole event, and the glitching is red and blue. We all know exactly who that means is on the scene.

-Damien is nowhere to be found in the entire ending sequence, meanwhile the Colonel reappears after having been absent for most of the video. What is the room he’s coming out of? Is it really his room or is it Mark’s?

-”Somebody help me!” I think that was George, or the Detective, talking about closing the door, but I’m not entirely certain. It could have been Damien, asking for help with Celine.

I think I’m finally getting a sense for what happened, but I’m not sure I want to share it yet. I’ll probably do a masterpost of my final theory tomorrow, before the next part goes up. I might be going out tomorrow, so I probably won’t be around to live react to the finale, but rest assured, I’ll be there in the evening to sum up! Let me know what you guys are thinking, and talk to me! Who do you think did it? What do you think is happening? Why is Dark here, suddenly? Are we getting an Ego backstory?

This is so much fun!!! I’m so happy to be wrong about the Egos not being involved!!!

WKM: A Closer Look At The Bedroom.

So earlier today I made my general theory post about Ch. 2 of WKM, but I thought I’d spend a little more time now on the bedroom we’re led into. Mark’s room. I’m gonna do what I did with the pictures from the countdown and discuss certain points.

Angle 1:

No. 1: Where does this door lead? Who had access to Mark’s veranda/balcony? If it’s not a veranda/balcony, then what is it? Clearly an outdoor area, but where outside? Is it the same balcony we’ve been walking around with the Mayor and the Colonel?

No. 2: The books and the envelope on the ground. One of the books is wide open, thrown down apparently. Was it being searched for information or did it fall open? And what about the black book, what’s in it? What about the open and presumably empty envelope? Was it always empty or did the contents get taken?

Angle 2:

No. 1: The bed is thoroughly messed up. Did Mark come in here to sleep and get disturbed, maybe get into a fight? Because I highly doubt the bed would look like that after a scuffle if he hadn’t just been in it and had to get out in a hurry.

No. 2: Another open book on the ground. So many books but no bookshelf.

And now, the table and the pictures:

No. 1: We can piece together a sort of story from the pictures, or at least understand that the Colonel, the Mayor, and Mark were at one point good friends (Why else would he keep these pictures in his private room?). But the last picture doesn’t feature the Colonel, so it’s from after the falling out. 

No. 2: The Seer is in this middle picture, hanging on Mark’s arm. The Colonel and the Mayor don’t look too happy about this. Do they not like her? Or are they jealous? The Mayor almost seems more nervous than angry.

No. 3: The picture of the Colonel alone, which we discover a few seconds later is the only broken picture, is turned down. And the placement of all of these pictures is very deliberate, laid out to tell us a story by whoever ransacked the room (And from this table, we can say it was ransacked. This is too cut and dry to be random). But why turn down the Colonel’s solo picture and none of the others? Was this done by someone who doesn’t like the Colonel? Or was it done by the Colonel himself, ashamed of what happened between him and Mark?

Overall, the room is curious. This whole thing is curious, and I love it.

Who Killed Markiplier? Mini Update 2.

Alright I’ve just been over to whokilledmarkiplier.com, and here’s the newest evidence.

-There’s another Jims video, in which they’re running around on the balcony, keeping an eye on the Detective, who’s strolling around, looking at his gun, then crying over his old partners. He gets spooked by something and moves out of our line of sight. The Jims are completely oblivious. (Also, question, is everyone in their family named Jim? If so, I love that.) I really don’t think there’s a lot of significance in this one, but I wasn’t watching too closely, so I could be wrong.

-There’s a soundbite with a heavy rumbling in the background, the sound of someone opening and then closing a squeaky door, the sound of a lighter being lit, something catching on fire, and then someone writing with what sounds to me like a quill (I write with them occasionally, and the scratching and flicking noises sound similar) or a pencil. What were they writing? What did they light on fire? And who is it we’re listening to? I think it could be Mark, trying to get a message to someone in the middle of the night, but that’s pure speculation, I have no evidence to back it up.

Who Killed Markiplier? Chapter 2 Update.

WE’VE GOT MORE EVIDENCE MOTHERFUCKERS! Time to look at the new information (AND THE NEW CHARACTER) we’ve been given.

My first post, covering Chapter 1 and the Jims. Just in case you want to follow along with my theory thread.

First of all, let’s talk about Mark’s room.

-On the way there, we learn that the Detective and Mark have been working together for years, and that recently, Mark’s gone “quiet as of late”, and that he was worried about something, but he doesn’t know what it was.

-The room is a mess, pillows, books, sheets all over the floor, the bed in disarray. There's an envelope on the ground, which I think might be important.

-On the table are four pictures. The first is Mark, the Mayor, and the Colonel. The second is the three of them again, but Mark has the Woman (more on her later) on his arm. The third is Mark and the Mayor, both smiling. The last is a broken picture of the Colonel.

-Here’s the questions and the guesswork so far: The Colonel, The Mayor, and Mark were all once great friends (the first pic, the Colonel’s conversation with us). Then, Mark got more famous, and the Woman became involved (Maybe Mark’s girlfriend?). The Colonel had a falling out with Mark, while remaining friends with the Mayor (pic 3, the Colonel’s conversation). That fourth, broken picture of the Colonel is significant. How did it break? Who broke it? Was it Mark, angry and betrayed by his friend? Was it the Colonel, furious at his abandonment? Did it break when Mark was attacked? In terms of the messy room, there are two options: either Mark was attacked in there and there was a scuffle, or it’s been ransacked by one of the party members. That envelope on the floor might hold case files or information about the guests from the Detective. If so, is that what the searcher was looking for?

Next, let’s talk about the Colonel:

-In this chapter, he’s acting more and more suspicious, more and more violent and flippant about the subject of death. But a lot of his statements don’t line up. He wants the “privilege” or shooting the possible zombie, but refuses to “speak ill of the dead” during our walk with him. He knows we’re friends with the Mayor, and calls him a good man and a good friend, but seems to be avoiding him (jumping in the pool, running to the golf course).

-We learn that he and the Chef have a history, apparently with the Chef working for the Colonel. Apparently they also worked together when the Colonel was just a private, so it was a long time ago.

-The Colonel says “I will not be called a murderer in my own home!” He claims to own the mansion, which doesn’t make any sense. It’s Markiplier Manor, isn’t it? Unless he and Mark are either related, or Mark took the house from him, and that caused the break.

Also, let’s talk about that final fight scene between the Colonel and the Detective:

-We hear a shot, and a vase breaking (pointed out later by the Butler), and run in after the Mayor.

-Inside, we find the Detective and the Colonel pointing guns at each other. The Colonel claims that the Detective attacked him, while the Detective claims that the Colonel tried to shoot him. The Colonel claims that he was doing target practice inside because he couldn’t get to the grounds that the Chef was blocking (much to the incredulity of the Butler).

-This is the crucial point in the video where we learn that the Colonel used to work with the Chef, and when the Colonel claims to be the owner of the manor. BUT ALSO!

THE WOMAN:

-Okay so we know from the pictures on the table that she’s an old friend/lover of Mark’s, and at least slightly knows the Mayor and the Colonel.

-She also appears out of nowhere, apparently expecting violence or tension, but possibly unaware of the death. The biggest questions are: who is she? Why is she here? Was she invited?

-UPDATE ADDED AFTER ORIGINAL POSTING: Apparently her “name”/designation is the Seer. Did she have a vision about the murder and come running to check on Mark and the gang?

Ooooh BOY I am loving this! I love a good mystery, and the hints and characters feel straight out of a silly version of Agatha Christie. The whole team did so well, and again I’m super impressed with the acting and the level of detail they went into. But tell me what you guys are thinking! Who did it, do you think? Did this new evidence change your mind about the killer? Who is the Woman? What happened between Mark and the Colonel that led to their falling out? And is there new evidence I don’t know about yet?

This is exciting!!

Who Killed Markiplier: Mini Update

Lots of people are throwing around the idea of Damien being Dark, and of the Colonel being Wilford. And other people are saying that Who Killed Markiplier could be an origin story for the Egos. Lemme just say, I would love for this to be true. I would love for Mark to have concocted some elaborate backstory for his sides.But I think it’s highly unlikely. I really don’t think the Egos are involved at all (The Jims excepted, of course.)

However, I still love the thought. I would gladly read fanfic of this exact scenario.

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?!

ALRIGHT WHILE I WOULD LOVE TO LIVE THEORIZE WITH THE REST OF THE COMMUNITY UNFORTUNATELY I HAVE SHIT TO DO TODAY SO EXPECT A HUUUUUGE THEORY POST LATER TODAY.

ALL I’M GONNA SAY FOR NOW IS FUCK YEAH MURDER MYSTERY TIME