Iplier House

Host For a Day

Darkiplier opened the door and leaned in the doorway.

The Host was leaned down near a microphone on the desk, with headphones on. "And Craig was never heard from again. Serves Craig right for resisting so much." He growled into the microphone. "Now, our time together has come to an end. Tune in tomorrow for another spoken story with your host." He leaned over, pressing a button and then slipped the headphones off. "Darkiplier entered the room, interrupting the end of the Host's show, to ask him if he would like to accompany him for groceries."

Darkiplier sighed softy. "We need to install a light for when you are on the air. So, would you want to come for groceries then?"

"The Host agreed that he would like to get out of the house, and would not mind accompanying Dark to fetch the groceries." The Host babbled.

"Good." Dark cracked his neck. "Are you ready to go then?"

"The Host thought it over a moment and decided that he was ready." He placed his hands on the desk and stood himself up. He easily crossed the room and his drew near the door, Dark placed a hand on his shoulder to stop the man from colliding with him. "The Host thanked Dark for his guidance."

"Of course." Dark nodded, gently placing the Host's hand in the crook of his arm and lead him down the hallway and out to the car. The Host followed along beside him, used to following Darkiplier's lead. Dark was one of the few in the house who he would trust to lead him, otherwise he preferred to find his own way around, feeling with his hands.

As the Host settled himself in the front seat, Wilford opened the front door, hanging out of the house. "Cookies! Oh, and cake mix!" He called as he tilted his head. "And chocolate!"

"You do not need all of that." Darkiplier pointed out, opening the driver's door and placed his hand on the roof, staring over it at Wilford.

"I do!" Wilford wiggled his mustache.

"I will consider it." Dark sighed.

"Warfstache Tonight helps pay for those groceries!" Wilford called, before disappearing into the house again.

Darkiplier sighed, sliding into the front seat. "The Host is curious about how the house finances are. The ad space on the radio show is not bringing in very much."

"Do not worry about it, Host. We are doing just fine. There are enough members of the house contributing, and every now and then, we funnel some of Mark's funds without him even realizing. If you slap a charity name on it, he assumes he forgot he made the donation." Dark explained as he headed to their usual grocery store. At least enough of the staff had gotten used to them popping in, and assumed they were all part of some show or eccentric live role play group. Sometimes the other customers would still cause a scene about Host's bloody eye cloth, or Dark's shell cracking, or about some of the other egos when they were in the store. These customers were easy enough to brush off with the help of the staff, luckily. Dark lead Host inside and grabbed a cart. He let Host grab onto the hand bar and walked to the front of the cart, gently grabbing the front edge and pulled it forward, leading where the Host pushed. As he got to places he needed to grab things, Dark would give small vocal cues, like "Here." or, "Just a moment." to let the Host know they were stopping.

The entire time, the Host babbled away under his breath, describing walking around the store, things Darkiplier was getting and the other people around them. He would turn his head, tilting it this way and that whenever they stopped, listening to the sounds in the store and other conversations.

"I think we are almost done here." Dark assured him, as he picked out some cake mixes for Wilford.

"The Host was disappointed that the trip was nearly over." The Host muttered.