Pandemonium | Dream SMP

15. I've heard him called worse.

L'Manburg is eerily quiet as I step into its borders, past its black walls and billowing flag. The podium looks strange after last night. The chairs have been packed away, and the stage stands empty in the midday sun. Even though the rally was only yesterday, it already feels like a distant memory. So much has happened in such a short amount of time. And not all of it good.

The white house stands near the docks, up on a slope of land with what I imagine is a wonderful view of the ocean.

Again, the place looks quiet, and I hesitate before knocking on its doors. I receive no reply, and after a few more knocks decide to take the initiative and head on inside.

The floor is dressed in rich reds, and flowers line every dresser. The way the flowers are arranged make me think that Niki may have had a hand in decorating the place.

There's a second floor to the building, accessed by a large set of stairs. I've never been inside a white house before, but if I were to guess I'd say the main office is up there. And ultimately, Wilbur and Quackity.

I've known since arrival that Wilbur has been running L'Manburg alongside Tommy. But for some reason, I never really saw him as the nation's president. As a leader? Yes. It's clear that the people love and appreciate him. But the title 'president' just doesn't seem to suit his calm, friendly demeanour.

"You're literally admitting to using me, Wilbur!"

I jump, tripping up the last step of the stairs as a voice rocks through the second floor, ripping apart the quiet atmosphere.

"That's not what I'm saying! There'll be conditions on both sides!"

"You and I both know your conditions are shit! If you want me in, this can't be conditional!"

The voices of Wilbur and Quackity come from behind a large set of wooden doors, at the far end of the landing. Their heated argument is too loud for even the thick wood to muffle.

I approach the door quietly, feeling awkward for listening in on a conversation that has nothing to do with me. I don't know if I should knock now and interrupt, or wait out the cursing and interject at a more appropriate time.

The decision is made for me when one of the great doors suddenly swings open, revealing Quackity in its frame, one hand pressed to the wood as he stands with his back to me, facing a rather dishevelled looking Wilbur sat at a desk.

"It's clear we're not going to come to an agreement," Quackity says in a tight voice, "so either come up with a better deal or just give up."

Wilbur looks like he wants to say something, but at that moment he spots me, stood quietly outside his door. He quickly clears his throat and runs a hand through his mess of curls. "We'll try again later, then."

Quackity, noticing the male's sudden change in demeanour, glances over his shoulder. He about jumps when he sees me, looming in the shadows like a ghost.

"Sorry if I've come at a bad time," I apologise, glancing between the two. "But do you have a moment, Quackity?"

The boy blinks but slowly nods, his hand slipping from the door, "uh, yeah. Sure. I can talk."

I catch a glimpse of Wilbur's tight-lipped expression before the door shuts completely behind Quackity, blocking the acting-president from view.

"What is it? Ya need me for something?" He leans against a wall, folding his arms.

"I'm actually here on behalf of Schlatt. He'd like to talk with you if you have the time?"

At the mention of Schlatt's name, Quackity's entire face brightens, his dark eyes gleaming. "He does? Where is he? Did he say what he wants to talk about?"