How These Floorboards Creak

5

There were only so many directions the word 'it' could go. It was almost odd how nearly all players so far had the right letters to spell it. It was a daring move when Alfred spelled out 'fish'. The game changed then. Others were more daring with their word choices. Toris was the one to take the first shot.

He proudly took the shot of vodka. Seemingly unfazed by it unlike many of the others. Alfred started the next round. He took the shot leisurely, savoring the burn down his throat. 

"Next person!" He grinned.

"I don't get it, what exactly is the point of this?" Arthur asked as Francis concentrated on forming the next word now that the game changed. Alfred simply shook his head, his grin staying despite the mild annoyance of Arthur asking stupid questions. 

"It's a challenge, of course." Alfred answered his eyes focused on the board, his grin fading into a simple smile. 

"A challenge?"

"Yeah, the challenge is not to get drunk."

"Why is that a challenge?" 

"Because when you get drunk, you get a hangover the next morning, and when you get a hangover you become incredibly annoying because you're complaining about your hangover as if anyone actually cares." All but Francis and Toris looked at Alfred. The two unfazed by the nation's demeanor. Such passive-aggressive statements were normal to them. Not to mention that Francis was occupied. The others had never heard such a statement though. He looked up at them with the warmest smile he could muster. "So, if you don't want to be absolutely annoying, don't get drunk, 'kay?"

Francis finally put down three letters. He spelled out 'dare' in a space with double points to be added to a letter, earning him a shot. He took it gladly wanting to drown out the fear from knowing that look on Alfred's face. It was the same look he put on when he was reaching his limit. Looking at Toris, he knew that look as well. He wore a bored look, though. It was odd to say the least. Francis could only wonder where this was going.

All eyes moved to Arthur. The Brit didn't waste a second putting down 'pi'.

"This is actually impossible." He stated with a frown. "You're so limited on words."

"Maybe if you're a lightweight." Toris spoke up with an eye roll. "And an idiot."

"Aren't you a lightweight?" Arthur asked, ignoring the last comment.

"I do have a weak stomach but there's no other rules to the game, you know." His eyes watched Ivan with intensity. There was a noticable challenge in them.

"Ominous." Francis commented with a cheeky grin as Ivan put down a simple 'da'.

"So, that means that the game is based on language and physical ability, correct?" Kiku questioned, looking down at his letters.

"Depends on the way you look at it." Alfred shrugged. "Anyone hungry? I know I am." Nearly all shook their heads. It was Toris and Kiku to request a snack. Alfred happily got up and left for the kitchen. Something clearly changed in Toris' demeanor. He grew more rigid, his expression more serious than before. Francis could only wonder if he was going to take the chance to warn the others. Everything was perfect for him to do so. All was in place.

Except, Toris didn't do such. Instead he concentrated on his letters and moved a few. He was serious about the game now. The question of why now swirled on Francis' head as Lovino quietly put two letters down, spelling 'let'.

Alfred returned with a little tray of snacks. He carefully sat down right back in his place next to Toris. He handed Toris a bit of bread and reached over to Kiku to give him a foreign bag of chips. Alfred had only a sandwich stuffed to the brim on the tray. He picked it up and took a big bite out of it with ease. He seemingly inspected the crowd. Eyeing Toris for a longer few seconds than the others. He noticed the more interested and serious look on the nation. A muffled chuckle made its way out of his throat. He swallowed the big bite, licking his lips to clear any excess.