Markiplier Ego Oneshots

Surprise Me- Host

Authors note: This oneshot is a bit longer than the usual, and by that I mean about 4 times as long as the previous one. Heh.
Cover picture by queenofspades010 (on Tumblr) through an art raffle. Thank you!

Warnings: mild cursing, mentions of blood.

The Host sits at his desk, surrounded by multiple computer monitors that supplied the only light in the room, dimly illuminating his face. The room is dark and cluttered yet meticulously organized, smelling of old books with the faint metallic scent of blood, due to the overflowing trash bin of crumbled papers and old bandages. The interior decorating is dark, full of crisp monochromatic shades. Color didn't really matter to the Host, knowing that he can't really see it.

The Host runs his fingers through his hair, pulling it neatly back. He sighs. How long has it been since he ate? A day or so at least. The Host tended to forget to take care of himself when he was in a working mood. He knew Dr. Iplier would scold him for that later. The Host decides to take a break and eat something light, groaning as he pulls himself out of his chair. Standing up on unsteady legs, he tightens the bandage around his eyes as he mentally prepares himself to encounter the other egos, leaving the room.

The Host comes back to his room a short while later. He is surprised that the other egos weren't out and about as they usually were. The chances of not seeing or hearing any of them were slim, especially considering how many of them there actually were. He never really enjoyed having so many noisy people here, so he was happily surprised by their disappearance.

At least that's what he told himself.

He would never say it, but he enjoyed the presence of the other egos, even if it was just him listening to them vent. He even considered it more satisfying than just controlling people like fictional characters of his creation- it was harder to get an intelligent conversation like that. Sure, they might not ask much about him, but that didn't really matter. The only person who he considered himself close to was Dr. Iplier, since he was a regular patient, and Darkiplier, since he was used as a valuable informant. He felt appreciated when they would ask for him, even if it was just for a check-up or for some insight. But most of the time, it would just be him, by himself, in his room. The Host liked the quiet, but he didn't like being alone.

He thinks about using his clairvoyant abilities to find their locations but then decides against it. The other egos don't seem to notice him much anyways, and they probably enjoy their privacy. They might not take kindly to him snooping in on their private life, especially since they aren't close.

He sinks back down into his chair, letting out a deep exhale. There is something on his desk. The Host takes it tentatively, feeling and turning it around in his hands. It is a thick, plastic coated paper, the size of a small poster. The edges were crisp and sharp, smelling strongly of plastic and packaging. He inspects it further, beginning to narrate in a low monotone voice:

"The camera zooms into the small poster in the Host's hands. In it, there is a Stock photo picture of a typical looking man, peering through a pair of large black binoculars. Words at the top spell out a message in bright, capital, block letters: 'SEEING IS BELIEVING'. "

The Host groans, interrupting his narration and sinking lower into his chair. "They do know I'm fucking blind, right?" he mutters. This was probably some practical joke from one of the other egos. He then continues:

"The poster was dropped off while the Host was not in his room, the deliverer of the poster in question being Dr. Iplier." The Host never thought that the doctor would stoop that low. Clearing his throat, he continues again:

"Dr. Iplier wanted to check up on the Host as well as give him the poster as a group birthday present from all the egos." The Host stops. He turns to look at the paper calendar (Markiplier's Tasteful Nudes Calendar) on his wall, lines in red marker crossing off the days. It was February 6th. It was the Host's birthday. It was his birthday, and he completely forgot about it. Heh, that's interesting. He resumes: