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Chapter 47: We Spill Wine, Blood, and Secrets

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Bit of a longer chapter today- we had a lot we wanted to fit in :)

Bottles clinked around the table in the White House, the torches in the sconces on the walls flickering in time with the too-loud, too-drunk laughter that was echoing throughout the building. You sat with your feet propped up on the table, swirling the bottle of beer in your hand that Quackity had coerced you into drinking. He sat on the other side of the table, along with George, who you hadn't seen much of recently, but obviously seemed to be enjoying his position of power in the government, and Schlatt, who was already three beers deep in his haze of alcohol and entertainment. You glanced through the cards in your hand, feeling confident in your odds at winning the game. The shiny coins in the middle- substitutes for the non-existent poker chips -probably added up to enough to buy a full set of Netherite, and yet, you were gambling it off.

George bit his lip in deep concentration, his brow furrowed speculatively. "Right," he said after a moment, "Quackity- I'll take another two cards." The vice president obliged, dealing the top cards off of the deck and handing them to him. George winced as he picked up the cards, obviously not liking what he saw. With a drawn-out sigh, he placed a Two of Diamonds and a Six of Clubs on the table, face up, one at the point of the slowly forming triangle of cards and the other beneath the Six of Spades near his left hand.

"Ooh- careful, boys," you teased, taking another sip from your bottle before setting on the table. "Looks like Mushroom-Man over here might actually beat you! Mhm- hey, amigo, gimme another card- I'm almost done with my Triad." Quackity handed you the Three of Hearts, which you tapped against the table, grinning at your opponents, the effects of the alcohol starting to reach your head. "Alright, Schlatt- I propose a trade."

The president, who was definitely losing, probably because he was finding more interest in the bottom of a bottle than in a deck of cards, still had his Three slot on the Triad empty, but he did have a Seven, which was something you very much needed. He glanced down, saw which card you were looking at, then at the card in your hand, and groaned.

"Fuck- Y/N, you realize that I need both of those, right?"

You shrugged. "Yes or no, Bitch Boy?" Still grumbling, he grabbed the Seven and gave it to you, taking your own card in return. Quite contented with yourself, you nodded to Quackity, who proceeded to draw a card and cheered, slamming the Queen of Clubs on the table.

"SUCK IT, YOU BITCH!" He shouted in glee, scooping in the coins while the rest of you groaned. "Never bet against the dealer, my friends. House always wins." He began to deal out the next game as you rubbed your temples, feeling a strong headache beginning to pulse against your temples. 

Across the table, George noticed, and shot you a half-amused, half-concerned look. "The beer not agreeing with you, Y/N?" 

You groaned. "Yeah." In truth, it was. Techno had never really drunk any beer except for on the rare occasion that they stayed in a town for more than two nights, so you'd never really drunk anything strong. That, and the constant pressing of the voices. They'd grown quieter tonight, repressed by a mix of the drinks and the distraction of gambling, and yet their humming presence was still there, a constant reminder of what was happening to you. Tomorrow, you would have to go to Pogtopia to report to Wilbur. Tomorrow, you would quite possibly see your father, and you knew that he'd somehow recognize the signs of the voices. You weren't ready. "That, and my entire body aches from sparring."