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Dave had no idea how he got to the manor. He remembered falling asleep in the dream walker’s village, then opening his eyes to a large oak door. He frowned in confusion, turning around to get a look at his surroundings. He appeared to be on the porch of a large mansion, it’s grounds spreading out to a forest that seemed to circle the place.
The door opened then to reveal a boy with what looked to be peanut butter spread all over his face. “Uh, hi? I don’t know how I…”
The boy blinked up at him before turning to yell back into to house. “Dark, Wil, Mark made another one!” He turned back around with a smile. “Hi, I’m Artie, King Of The Squirrels!”
“Uh, Dave Torres. Nice to meet you? Do you know where we are?”
“Yep! Iplier Manor!”
“Home to the Egos and Others of one Mark Edward Fischbach.” A monochrome figure appeared behind Artie, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I am Darkiplier, head of this household. Who might you be?”
Dave stepped back a little bit, watching the figure warily. They seemed to be cloaked in chromatic aberrations of blue and red while remaining black and white. “I’m David Torres. What were you saying? Egos? Who’s Mark?”
Darkiplier smiled, not unkindly, and stepped aside. “Come on inside and I can fill you in. Artie, will you grab Wilford for me? I believe he was in the kitchen.”
The boy nodded and raced off as Dark showed Dave inside and to what looked to be a living room.
“I’m sure you have many questions and I will be happy to answer any after I explain.” Dark started, gesturing to the couch as he sat in one of the armchairs. Dave took a seat, deciding to go with whatever the hell was happening in what he was still assuming to be a dream.
“As I said before, this place is called Iplier Manor after a man named Mark Fischbach, more commonly known by his media moniker of Markiplier. The people who like here are called Egos. As you may have noticed, we share a face. Everyone here shares the same face, though some might be younger than others such as King, who you’ve just seen.”
Dave was starting to think that this was entirely too detailed to be a dream. “You mean like clones? Like in Star Wars?”
At this moment, a bubbly man with a pink mustache and pink striped hair bounced into the room, plopping down on the arm of Dark’s chair. “Oh hey, a new one! Wilford Warfstache, pleasure to finally meet you Dave!”
Dave blinked. “How did you-?”
“Dark was thinking especially loudly.” At this the pink man turned to the other with a raised eyebrow. “I can hear you just fine without you shouting all the time you know.”
Dark rolled his eyes. “Yes, I was only making sure you were paying attention. Dave, this is Wilford, my partner. As I was about to say before I was rudely interrupted,” he shot a glare at the bubblegum man, “No, we are not clones of Mark. Most of us are characters made from videos on the man’s YouTube channel, given life by his audience. The few Others, who you will assuredly meet in time, are characters that he has played for something else. Egos already have previous knowledge of Mark, and as you appear to have no idea who the man is, that would make you an Other.”
Dave took a minute to let that sink in, staring at the two and pinching himself in hopes that he would wake up from this dream that was rapidly getting weirder. “But that-that doesn’t make any sense! You’re saying that I’m just a character that some guy’s played in a story! That I’m not real?!”
“Oh no, you’re real alright.” Wilford spoke up in an attempt at reassurance.
Dave frowned. “But you said-“
Wilford put a finger to Dave’s lips, startling him. “No ifs, ands, or buts about it! You’re here right? We’re all here, every single one of us. Just because we were all made to be characters by one man, doesn’t mean that we’re not real. Being a character doesn’t make us not real. I mean, think of who you are, who you were before you got here. That was real, right?” He ruffled his hair. “You certainly feel real.”
“What Wilford is saying is that though we may all be a byproduct of someone else’s imagination, we do, in fact, exist.” Dark interjected. “Everything you experienced before you Arrived was real for you. That’s the special thing about Others, you all have your own stories that the rest of us were not a part of. You could even say that you’ve lived more than most of us with such a detailed backstory. If it’s easier, you can think of this place as a sort of parallel universe where other versions of yourself live.”
That was a little easier to accept, Dave figured, thinking it over. “Can I go back home?”
Dark and Wilford exchanged looks before Dark replied. “I will have to ask Mark about that when I speak to him later. You would be the first Other who wants to go back. Most of us do not have …fun backstories.”
Dave thought back on the past couple days and the horrors he’d seen with a grimace. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t particularly sure he wanted to go back to a world like the one he’d apparently just left.
Wilford seemed like he wanted to say something, his eyes glittering like he knew something, but he kept his mouth shut, instead hopping to his feet. “Well Dave, let’s go find your room! Everyone has one and I’m sure the old place has made yours by now!”
Dave glanced between the two before following after the pink man at Darkiplier’s nod.
Dark sighed after the two disappeared from sight. “Oh Mark, when will you make someone with a happy backstory?” They slipped through the void to their office, already planning out the text he’d be sending to the man himself.