the scene where mark falls and says “it’s not fair, is it?”, that one? look at his eyes, they’ve got dark circles around them, a signature feature of dark.
remember in adwm? how dark said that he was “pushed aside, replaced, mocked”?
yeah, that scene with mark in his robe is mark mocking him pretty much.
I’m my Darkiplier songs, you can here a very common piano piece. I picked this piece to use in the Darkiplier music I make because it has a sad tone to it, to represent a broken shell.
Don’t think about what all happened after the video ended, though…
Don’t think about how the Colonel is just wandering around, still calling out the names of his beloved friends, hoping and believing that this whole thing had been a joke, that they are just off hiding somewhere, waiting to surprise him and he doesn’t know what to do because all he can do is search for them.
Don’t think about how Dark is seething with anger, betrayal, hatred and is craving vengeance. Don’t think about how he listens to the Colonel fruitlessly calling out for his loved ones with a sad heart as he tries to figure out his new body, his new way of life, tries to figure out his powers and how to control himself. How to contain his split personalities. And maybe, just maybe, he ends up helping the Colonel because he just can’t leave him behind.
The voices whispered angrily in his head, craving vengeance for how they had been wronged, betrayed by their supposed ‘friend’. It was supposed to be a celebration, a party, a rejoining of old friends. What a fucking joke. His hand gripped the cane in his hand, his teeth gritting. Friends indeed.
‘A darkness’ they had called this energy. It felt fitting, somehow. Darkness. No, too long.How about, Dark?Yes, that will do nicely. Dark smirked at their agreement on the matter, twirling the cane almost playfully as he headed upstairs, fully prepared to begin plotting their revenge. He stopped three steps in when a voice reached his ears, desperate and grief riddled.
“Damien? Celine? Come on, fun’s fun b-but, jokes over! Guys?!” The colonel was clearly far on the other side of the house but his naturally booming voice carried to Dark’s ears regardless. He gripped the railing tight. He could hear him still calling out for them and the others, even the detective, whom he’d despised from the start.
He’s our friend.We have work to do.We can’t just leave him like this.We can and we have to, the longer we wait the longer Mark’s out there in my body!But it’s our fault! Dark sighed and headed down the stairs, following the Colonel’s calls, which continued to get more and more desperate.
“Colonel!” Dark snapped as he entered the same room as him, watching the madman whip around to face him, clearly in a daze. “They’re not here.” The colonel giggled.
“Of…of course they are! They’re not dead, remember? It was a joke!” Dark watched the man giggle more and more, a hand sliding up his face to his hair and gripping hard. The other two’s emotions ran strong through his core, worry and sympathy and…compassion.
“Yes, you’re right, but they’re not here, they…had to leave,” Dark told him, watching as he moved his hand to look at him. “They said that they were sorry but, they had some other business to attend to. Just you and I now.”
“Oh, I…I see.” He watched the man mull this over a moment before he clearly bought the lie. “V-Very well. Um, what’s your name again?”
“You can call me, Dark. And I may call you…?”
“Um…Wilford. Wilford Warfstache.”
“A pleasure.” The pair shook hands. Dark couldn’t help but smile as fondness welled up from the other two. “I have a feeling we’re going to be fast friends, you and I~”
Hey hey hey hey @darkiplier-support-group I wrote another one really quickly and it’s kinda angsty I hope you like my dude:
As he stares into the mirror, he didn’t know how to… feel. He could only stare, meeting the eyes of his reflection as it stared back. How had this all happened? How had they ended up like this? His fingers tighten around the cane and he picks up the fading calls of the Colonel as he grows more and more hopeless in his search for his friends. If only he knew that they were standing a few rooms away from him. He glances down at the cane he has held onto for so long, this being the only thing grounding him in the currently spiraling and warping world. He looks back into the mirror, observes the way his skin had changed to a dark grey, how a mixed aura from both Damien and Cilene surrounds him. He pulls at the suit he currently wears and can feel the grasp of the original owner of this body slipping, fading. He can feel them spreading, becoming nothing more than a vessel, nothing more than a shell to contain them and their power.
He pops his neck as it felt too stiff, too broken, and watches as the glass before him breaks and the world only further distorts, twists. Watches as he only loses more of his humanity. But it’s not like there’s anything else he can or could do. That damn Mark had stolen their lives and bodies, stolen their chances at being happy.
His lips draw back and downwards into a sneer and he can feel the anger burning in his chest. Right. That’s why he is here. Vengeance.
He looks in the direction of where the Colonel’s voice echoes from and quickly storms from the mirror, finding the Colonel bunched over one of the older framed photos. He’s clenching it tightly, body shaking as he stares into the smiling faces of who they once were. His heart twists because they had once been happy, all together, as friends… no, as family.
But Mark ruined all of that.
He growls softly to himself and this catches the attention of the Colonel whose eyes flash to him and he flinches at the insaned craze darkening them. The Colonel leaps to his feet while holding up the frame, not seeming to be the least perturbed by his appearance and points to the smiling group forever frozen in their hapPY positions.
“L- look!” the Colonel stutters, voice shaking and cracking and he can hardly listen to it. But he says nothing at first, unsure if he actually could. The Colonel points more, jabbing his finger against the glass. “It- its Damien an- and Cilene! I- I found them!”
He sighs heavily, trying his best to ignore the feeling of utter sorrow coiling in his gut to slowly reach out. He gently coaxes the picture frame from the Colonel’s fingers, watching as his face falls from the crazed happiness of false hope.
“William…” he began and nearly flinches at how his voice sounds. It’s so… layered. Almost like a million people were speaking at once. The Colonel’s nostrils flare and he knocks the hand holding the frame, causing him to lose his hold on it. The picture falls to the floor and shatters and the Colonel’s eyes widen before narrowing to a glare.
“Do not call me William,” he growled, turning his full anger towards the manifestation of his three truest friends. If only he knew it was them… “I am no longer William.” His eyes light up a moment later and he grins brightly. “Call me Wilford! I’ve always liked the name Wilford!”
But he can’t call him something else. He doesn’t know if he would ever be able to do that. “Will…” he tries now and when he’s not interrupted he continues, “Your friends… Damien, Cilene… you’re other…. they’re all gone.” No, that’s a lie. Why is he telling the Colonel that? The three of them are all there right now, speaking to him. Why is he telling a lie? Why doesn’t he tell the truth? He wants to do badly but he doesn’t seem able.
The Colonel’s eyes widen once more and he takes a stumbling step backwards. He tries to reach out, to help, but the Colonel knocks his hands away, using the wall to catch himself and balance himself out. He watches as he straightens and tries to regain himself. “They can’t be dead!” The Colonel denies and he wants to tell him so badly. “This is all just a joke! They’re hiding and I just have to find them!”
“But that’s not-”
“Shut up!” the Colonel screams and now he can see the tears in his old friend’s eyes. His mouth locks shut and he can’t speak again because no… he should tell him that they’re all right here. That they are alive, just not in the same way. Why won’t he tell him?! “I don’t want to hear it. I will find them one day, trust you me.”
He has to convince the Colonel to come with him. He’s an old friend but… his power needs to be contained. To be used.
“Perhaps we could… help one another,” he suggested, putting on the most convincing voice he could with this layered and monstrous tone. The Colonel looks back at him with distrust yet also… familiarity. Perhaps the Colonel knows deep down, that they know one another. Perhaps he just won’t accept it. “I am seeking vengeance against the man who caused all of this pain and suffering to you and your friends…”
“The detective? Cause he’s already dead-”
“No,” he interrupts, watching as the Colonel’s face twists in confusion. He had thought that the detective was at fault. But maybe he wasn’t..? “Markiplier.”
The Colonel’s eyes widen once more and a sneer crosses his face. “I knew i couldn’t trust him…” he snarled. But then he seems to remember something. “Who are you, anyway? I do not recall meeting you. Perhaps if I know you then I would consider your offer…” but he knows he doesn’t even have to tell him another word. The Colonel wants vengeance on Mark just as much as he does.
But the question of who he is… who is he? He hadn’t had time to mull this over, quickly going to speak to the Colonel, having no time to think of a name or who he is specifically. Though… one idea of a name does stick out in particular. He clears his throat and straightens his back, his suit and meets the Colonel’s eyes. He speaks, voice echoing and spreading out in the way it does now as he says the next words:
