Chapter Text
"What are y'all doing?" Second peered through the doorway to find the other three hollowheads lounging about.
Dark looked up from his slouched position. "Absolutely nothing. These two," —he waved a hand judgmentally at Chosen and Vic— "are boring as hell."
He sighed. "Not like you'll be much better. You're Chosen's reincarnation or whatever. By my logic, you can't be very interesting."
Chosen let out a snort. "Yeah, by your impeccable logic that assumed Second was me reincarnated when I was still alive. Very trustworthy, that logic of yours."
"Pfft, what do you mean by 'was still alive'?"
"I mean that you are slowly driving me down the path of insanity and I am getting increasingly likely to spontaneously jump off a cliff, so I want my possible last words to be grammatically accurate."
"One, you're starting to sound like old stuffy Vic. Two, you can literally fly."
"Both are beside the point."
"Shut up."
"You shut up—"
"Both of you shut up!" Victim interrupted. He gestured at Second to sit down at the table, who did so gratefully. "Anyone have something we can do that's not listen to Chosen and Dark bicker like some trope-filled enemies-to-lovers romance novel?"
"Hey-" Dark started, before being interrupted by Second.
"They literally are the characters in the romance novel." he pointed out. "Born to destroy each other, collaborated instead… "
"Heh, yeah, I see it." Vic replied with a chuckle, prompting indignant noises from Chosen and Dark.
"Okay, well does anyone have anything to do other than taunt us relentlessly?" Chosen said in mock exasperation.
"You used us in your sentence, what does that imply…"
If looks could kill, Second would have been instantly disintegrated. He raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I have a deck of cards, if anyone has a game."
"Texas Hold'em?" Dark suggested. "We can bet and whoever wins can have a prize. Ooh, maybe we can have the winner choose what clothes Chosen wears tomorrow—"
"We are not gambling, Dark." Victim replied flatly.
"Aww~"
"What about Go Fish?" Chosen said in that characteristically quiet voice that they used when talking to anyone except Dark. "We all want to murder each other already, so what better way to bond than to strengthen that urge?"
"That-" Vic paused. "Okay, as someone who has actually tried to murder most or all of you in this room, I cannot deny that."
Chosen let out a breathy laugh. "Pfft. Wow, not even any regret or anything for… " They gestured to the scars around their neck. "That?"
Vic looked away. "Uhm, I apologized for that already… sorry…"
Chosen shook their head. "It's fine, I've gone through worse."
They glared at Dark, who stifled a snicker. "Sorry not sorry."
After some trial and error, Second managed to maneuver open the paper card box. "Anyone want to shuffle? I don't know how. Last time I tried, I hit Green in the face."
"I don't trust myself to not burn them by accident," Chosen said. "And I don't trust Dark to not burn them on purpose."
"Alright, here." Second handed the cards to Vic, who shuffled them expertly.
Dark gaped at the cards falling smoothly between his fingers. "How in the Outernet did you do that."
Vic grinned back, taking the rare chance to be smug to Dark. "Dedication and practice. Two things you younglings don't understand."
"Isn't Chosen, like, less than a year younger than you?" Second asked.
"One, I don't know, and two, I'm talking about age in terms of maturity."
"I have leveled cities and killed more times than I can count." Dark said. "I am not immature."
"That's not how maturity works…" Chosen said, trailing off.
"How do you all manage to get anything done with the amount of arguing you do?" Vic groaned. "Can we play already?"
"Agreed." Chosen said. "Here, deal five cards each."
"You do it." Vic slid the cards over to the black hollowhead. Chosen swiftly dealt the cards, five each.
"Uhhh…" Second showed four cards in his hand, all of them aces. "I already have four of a type…"
"WHAT-" Dark stared at it incredulously. "What are the odds of that?"
"I could check…" Vic said, and Chosen shook their head rapidly.
"No, please don't. Second, put that down as a set."
"Do I draw four new ones?"
"Obviously, mentally retarded waste of code." Dark said.
"Wow. That was uncalled for." Second replied as he drew new cards. "Can we go in reverse age order?"
"And let Dark go second?" Chosen shook their head. "How about we go in order of crime severity, least to greatest?"
"Yes." Vic said. "I get to go sooner, and I'm also proudly anti-Dark Lord, so…"
"Majority wins!" Second said. "Okay, me, then Vic, Chosen, and Dark, I guess."
"I hate you all." Dark said.
Chosen shrugged. "Heh, tell me something I don't know."
"Okay, my turn!" Second scanned his cards. "Dark, do you have a five?"
Dark smiled, showing off his carnivorous teeth. "Go fish. I hope you drown in whatever body of water you're fishing in."
Pointedly ignoring him, Second drew a card from the deck. "Vic, your turn!""
"Hmm…" Vic scanned the faces of his opponents like a serious sports bettor studying the expressions of the referee. "Second, do you have a seven?"
"If I did, I would give it to you." Second said. Everyone knew full well Second was the only one here who would ever say that with no sarcasm attached. "Go fish."
Vic drew without further conversation.
"Dark." Chosen looked at him, and Dark was noticeably surprised by how expressionless they looked. "Uh, yeah?"
"Do you have a three?"
Dark made a shooing motion with his hand. "Go fish somewhere else."
"Fine." Chosen looked at their card, and their poker face rapidly dissipated into the closest their face had ever gotten to an evil grin.
"Heh, it's my turn~" Dark smirked, and somehow he managed to make it look menacing. No one was surprised it was Dark who took a smirk and scared people with it. "Chosen…"
"Go die."
"Wha- okay, Mr. I-get-mean-when-I'm-losing-at-card-games. Anyway, do you by any chance have a four?"
"Go die, again."
"Joke's on you, I've done that already."
"Wow. What a thing to be proud of."
Second looked up. "Ookay, it's me?… hm. Vic, d'you have a king?"
"Well, since you were so kind to me earlier…" Vic said, "here." He passed his two kings to Second.
"Woo, three down, one to go."
"Heh…" Dark laughed quietly under his breath. "Heheheh." Luckily, Second didn't seem to notice.
"Okay," Vic said. "Dark?"
"Huh, what? I wasn't listening, sorry. Was too busy fantasizing about murdering you all."
Vic nodded philosophically. "Relatable."
Second's bright green eyes widened. "Wh-"
"Ignore that." Vic said awkwardly. "Anyway, Dark, do you have a seven?"
Dark glanced over at Chosen, noticing their expression morph strangely between stifling laughter and proud triumph. Their scarlet eyes looked back, their face twitching in a smile. They haven't even got a set yet… but why is Chosen kind of terrifying at Go Fish?
Looking back at Vic, Dark replied, "Nope."
"Dammit." Vic said. "I bet it's in the draw pile. Stupid draw pile."
Chosen exhaled loudly, and Dark thought he heard them mutter something. "Your turn, Chosen," he said.
"Vic." Chosen said, their eyes unreadable.
Vic looked up, probably from cursing at the draw pile, Second thought with a laugh.
"Mhm?"
"So… about those sevens."
Shocked silence filled the room for a moment. Vic's cyan eyes looked like twin blue marbles, large and round. Dark secretly was reminded of when the grey stick had found out he had killed Mitsi, although he would never say that.
"WHAT?" Vic stared at Chosen, looked down at his three sevens, and back up again. "No. You wouldn't."
Chosen raised an eyebrow. "I'm a former cyber-terrorist. I absolutely would."
"…I'm debating finding those Box blueprints from the dusty corner under my desk and rebuilding it."
"Don't you glitching dare do that," Chosen said, "Or I'm commissioning Dark to kill Mitsi again."
Dark shrugged. "What's the payment?"
"Bragging rights, I guess?"
Dark raised an eyebrow in response.
"Look, I'm broke, okay?"
Vic groaned. " All of you shut your insolent mouths."
"Vic, just pass the sevens." Second said, trying to break it up. "Please?"
"Why should I listen to you, youngling?" Vic asked.
"Because if you don't, he'll turn into a neon green glow stick and blast you into a mountain." Dark said flatly. "Don't ask me how I know."
"Hey, you deserved it!" Second yelped indignantly.
"No I didn't. No one deserves that."
"Yes you did!"
"Can we stop the younger-sibling bickering now and make Vic give me the sevens?" Chosen said exasperatedly. "Also, Dark, that no one pun had better have been accidental or I'm going to blast you into a mountain."
"Uhm… heheh." Dark said, scratching the back of his head nervously. "Give Chosen the sevens, quick! Before they murder me!"
Vic groaned, again. "Fine."
Hands shaking from what Second guessed to be raw fury, Vic passed the sevens over to Chosen. "Thanks so much!" They replied, grinning as Vic cursed under his breath.
"You know, Vic," Second said as Chosen placed down their set proudly, "If you hadn't been so hyperfixated on those sevens and nothing else, maybe you would have done better."
Clapping exaggeratedly, Dark added, "Good unsolicited advice there, Sec. He does have a tendency to hyperfixate, though."
Chosen snorted. "Ahem ahem, seventeen years spent building a torture chamber and planning revenge on the wrong stick, ahem ahem."
Vic swatted at them, and promptly missed. "I was not hyperfixating," he said in the tone of a petulant child, "I was coping."
"Bad coping methods, then." Chosen said. "Trust me. I had to cope a lot. Mostly thanks to you two." They gestured at Dark and Vic. "Speaking of the menace to society, it's your turn, Dark."
"Second? Queen?" Dark asked.
"Nope. Go fish."
"Fine."
"What is happening to the younger generations that they can't even use full sentences anymore?" Vic said.
"I know," Chosen replied, eyes widening in mock worry, "They resort to anger and violence as solutions to everything."
Vic shook his head. "Children these days."
"Sigh… children."
"Shut up, old people," Dark and Second said in unison.
"Whoa." Chosen's eyes widened, in actual worry this time. "What happened? Did Dark and Second actually agree on something?"
"Dark probably rebuilt the Machine and possessed Second or something."
"No," Dark said, "I'd need your help for that. Speaking of…"
"I am not having anything to do with your destructive projects," Vic stated.
"Ah, old people and their grumpiness."
"Shut your trap, inexperienced whippersnapper."