Tired of the crowd and noise pollution, Darkiplier, or Dark as he was called, paid for his drink before stepping out to get some fresh air. It was a brilliant Friday night, mid-September, and the first time Dark had ever dared to sneak out of Mark Fischbach's home. The guy was so involved with playing some new game that he hadn't even noticed. The dumbass. Dark smirked at the thought, but before he could make up his mind as to what he wanted to do next someone whistled at him and he turned to find a strange elf-like man looking down at him from his perch atop the small utility shed next to the bar. His dual colored eyes (one blue, one green) reflecting the crooked Cheshire grin he currently sported.
"Who the fuck are you?"
"Antisepticeye's the name," The elf replied, removing his fedora as he gave an awkward bow, revealing a shock of green hair, "But you may call me Anti."
"Oh," Dark perked up instantly, "You're Jack's alter-ego, right?"
"Right you are, Darkie boy," Anti declared upon straightening from his bow; he put his fedora back on, "Mark said you'd be here."
"How did he-"
"GPS. He bugged your phone."
"Bastard," Dark swore under his breath, "How did you get the information out of him?"
Anti blinked. His eyes shifting from being two colors to just one. . . A vivid all too familiar blue. . .
"He thought I was Jackaboy."
"That's a nice trick," Dark was genuinely impressed, "And he didn't sense anything was off?"
"Nope," Anti jumped down off the shed, landing stealthily on his feet, "Though, I'm sure the drugs I gave the real Jack have worn off by now. So, it's only a matter of time before he calls Mark."
"That's positively evil," Dark grinned, "I like you."
"I like you too," Anti declared with a semi-warm smile, "Hey, next time you should drug Mark."
"What did you use?"
"Sleeping pills."
"Classic," Dark mused, but before he could say more, a familiar car pulled up to the curb and the window rolled down to reveal an angry Mark Fischbach seated behind the wheel.
"Both of you, in the car, now."
"Well, looks like the party's over," Dark opened the back door for Anti, "After you."
"Such a gentlemen," Anti climbed in and slid over.
Dark followed with some reluctance. Closing the door behind himself. Mark waited until they had fastened their seat belts before pulling away from the curb.
"You pissed?" Dark inquired after a moment or two of tense awkward silence as they made their way back to the place he had started to call prison.
"Very," Mark confirmed, sharply, "I mean what the hell guys? Sneaking out, I can understand, tricking me was expected, but did you have to drug Jack, Anti?"
Anti made a strange snorting sound,
"I'm pure fuckin' evil, what the hell did you expect?"
"Hey, can we stop for tacos?" Dark asked, completely changing the subject.
"No, we're going straight home," Mark admonished, putting his foot down so to speak, "And tomorrow, Anti's on the first plane out of here."
"Whatever," Anti grumbled, folding his arms across his chest and sinking as low as his seat belt would allow.
"Aww, can't he stay, just for a few days?" Dark pleaded, "Pwetty pwease?"
"Fine," Mark heaved a resigned sigh, "But only a few days and I'll be keeping a close eye on the both of you."
"That's fine with me," Dark proclaimed, giving his new found friend a thumbs up and a wink.
Anti rolled his eyes. But the slight smirk that curved his lips made it more than obvious that he was happy to not have to face his alter self anytime soon.
