In Search of the Mirror Image (Septiplier/Septiplier AU)

The Journey to Meet Mark #90

At least these "Chicken and Dumplings" were delicious, and I could have easily eaten another serving or two. I waved down the server for my check, and the confused look on her face made me realize that I had done something wrong.

"Not putting it on your tab like usual, Mark?"

A tab? Mark #90 had a running line of credit at this place. If that was the case there would be records of his credit card on file. If I could just get to those then finding out his home address would be much easier for me.

"Yes, of course," I say with what I hope is a pleasant smile. "Just wanted to make sure that I had the correct information on my tab. Made a few changes."

Luckily for me, the server who I found out is named Alice, seemed to swallow my lie fairly well. Within a few minutes she returns with a paper document with my credit card information and much to my excitement, a Los Angeles address.

I jot down the information quickly, hopeful that Alice doesn't notice what I'm actually doing. I move from the restaurant as soon as I am able to, with a few other customers looking at me. Mark # 90 must be more popular than I first have first researched. A couple of smiling people approach me in the parking lot and ask for pictures. My grin is as big and cheesy as I can make it, then I continue on my way.

I would need to move someplace open and away from crowds to make my next jump to Los Angeles. I was hundreds of miles from there and need to get moving. The field that I originally jumped into would have to do again. Usually it's never a good idea to jump from the same location more than once, but I'm on limited time. Mark #90's schedule seems fairly predictable and it was likely for him to be making videos at his home right now.

With a few pushes of buttons on my jumping device I was gone in a whirl of bright colors and blurred shapes. The racing sounds of wind in my ears were nothing compared to the beats of my own drumming heart.

I blink into a slightly less pressing amount of sunlight and start to walk at once. Checking out my pathway I am right on schedule to get to Mark #90's house by midday. The side street I have landed in is deserted, just like I had hoped. I didn't want to immobilize anyone other than my target if I could help it.

Turning tightly to the right, I travel up a side street towards a local taxi stand. I just pray that I have enough money to get me to his house. Getting cash for this plane was a bitch in a half. All sold on the black market, and I'm only somewhat certain that it isn't counterfeit. The last thing I need is to be bothered by law enforcement for some shady bills.

"Oh my god! Are you Markiplier?"

The squeaky voice is of a young girl. She's already racing over to me, with her arms opened wide for what was undoubtedly a hug. I'm not a hugger but apparently Mark #90 was. Lucky for me she does most of the talking for the next few minutes, and seems content with me just smiling and nodding my head.

Thankfully she is gone on her way fairly soon, and I am able to get to the taxi stand without being stopped again. I give the taxi driver the is address and with a grunt of understanding, we're on our way. Checking my bag one more time at all of my supplies, I start to get myself ready. I know nothing about how Mark #90 is when cornered if my first plan goes wrong. From research he did take wrestling in high school. Obviously we were pretty much the same build. I need to be exact and precise in my meet up.

The taxi slows down in front of a large home, and the driver turns to me.

"That'll be $43.50."

I hand him a $60 and tell him to keep to stay close by. That I was only stopping by my house for ten minutes at most. He grunts and nods again as I get out of the car.

I pause, and take another deep breath as I start to head up the walkway.

This is for you Jack. All for you.