Day 1

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A rather disheveled Mark, lead a green haired child in a baseball cap up the front steps of the house. He paused and glanced back at the group of questionable children who surrounded him, letting out a deep sigh before knocking on the door.

The door opened wide and the woman smiled. "You must be Mr. Fischbach."

"I am." Mark sighed, watching her carefully. "Look, when I told you on the phone that these kids were monsters, you didn't really seem to understand. I didn't just mean they misbehave, I mean-"

"I have been doing this for over 20 years Mr. Fischbach. I can handle any child." The woman smiled, glancing at the group, her smile fading slightly. "How many are there?"

"Uh..." Mark shifted, glancing behind him to count quickly. "Looks like 9." He muttered, looking back at her.

"You didn't know?" The woman grunted, then let out a frustrated sigh and took a deep breath. "And how old are they?"

"They seem to be around 3 or 4? I don't really know." Mark shrugged.

The woman rose an eyebrow, clearly considering whether or not she should call the police. "And are they all yours?"

"None of them... are mine." Mark sighed. "I'm not their parent. Look it's hard to explain. They're... well I mean, they usually get called egos, and some of them belong to a friend. I don't know why they showed up here to bother me, and not there to bother him."

"Right..." The woman groaned, agitated with Mark's disinterest and ambiguous answers. She might have sent him away but at this point, she was worried for the children's safety. "Well I'm Mrs. Bolton. Why don't you come in and introduce me to the children?"

Mark nodded a little as she stepped out of the doorway. He walked inside, leading the child who's hand he was holding as the others followed, starting to explore the new environment. "Hey wait, all of you get back here!"

"It's fine." Mrs. Bolton sighed. "Who's this?" She smiled down at the boy holding Mark's hand.

Mark glanced at the child, desperately trying to remember who he was. "Uh..."

The boy gripped more tightly to Mark's hand. "I'm Chase!" He beamed, adjusting his hand with his free hand.

"It's nice to meet you Chase." Mrs. Bolton smiled.

Mark nodded, glancing over his shoulder. "Uh... Dark, get over here so I can keep an eye on you."

Slowly a boy with grey skin, wearing a well fitting suit wandered over. Mrs. Bolton gasped slightly. "He's.... awfully pale."

"He always looks like that, just wait until you meet Jack's mute kid." Mark sighed. "This is Darkiplier. He's a literal monster, okay? He's manipulative, and he's not to be trusted."

"That's no way to talk about a child!" Mrs. Bolton grunted. "And did you say.... Darkiplier? That's an odd name."

"Most call me Dark." The young boy stated, a slight echo following his voice as he wandered closer to her. He adjusted his tie, cracking his neck slightly and held a hand out to her. "Pleasure to meet you. I am sure we will have a good time here."

Mrs. Bolton smiled, gently shaking his hand. "Yes, you will."

"I feel like you're not listening to me." Mark sighed.

"Mister Daddy, are you leaving us any candy?" The boy with the pink mustache grinned up at Mark, wigging his jaw.

"Wilford, why are you calling me Daddy?" Mark muttered, glaring down at him.

Will shrugged his shoulders slightly. "Everyone does."

"Who's everyone?" Mark grunted.

"I have it on very good authority that most of your fans call you Daddy." The boy grinned throwing his arms out to the side dramatically.

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