Homeless

[dreamtofbeing]

It's my birthday! Thank you for letting me out on my birthday. You should let me out more, not just on my birthday. I like getting out and chatting with people. You know that, better than anyone, really.

So, February 29! It only comes around every four years. Didn't really celebrate, last time it did. And before that, it wasn't my birthday yet, so . . . anyone else out there whose birthday it is? How are you celebrating? Why did you pick February 29? Or did you not pick it yourself? I suppose there have to be at least a handful of people out there who are just statistically unlucky.

I think I want cake. And a candle. 44 candles! Or--do you get a candle for every year, or for every birthday? That'd be 12 candles, then. Or actually, it'd be two. That's a bit disappointing.

Mun, why did I pick February 29 as my birthday again?

Comments

[dreamtofbeing]

[You got him a card. He catches it with a smile--that's so sweet.]

I don't know about you. I'm 44. [It's 2016--he moved back to Cardiff in early 2013, and gave up his single apartment only a couple of months ago.]

Do I open it now? [He's inspecting the envelope. It's blue. He likes blue. He bends it back and forth a little and smiles at you. He wants to open it. Can he?]

I need to get my proper icons over to this account

[greatest_monster]

Of course you open it now. [He crosses his arms, twitchy, just so avoiding sneering at you. If you're 44, than they've just moved in together recently. He's still working on mixed feelings about the new domesticity.] And then you toss it out in a week. Useless human custom.

[dreamtofbeing]

I toss it out in a week? No, I won't. [Have a surprised frown.] I keep birthday cards; don't you?

[He briefly looks down to tear off the corner of the envelope and slide his finger in; then looks back up as he opens it, still frowning. It wouldn't be very nice to toss out birthday cards, would it? People spend money on those.]

I hope I got the age you gave me right. Tell me if I haven't!

[greatest_monster]

No. What am I going to use them for? Reminding myself that I used to be younger? [That does come out with a sneer. He's living with you. He's living with an idiot who saves £3 pieces of cardboard for sentimental reasons.]

[The card's a cheap kid's card, with the Incredible Hulk on the front and the words "HULK HEAR YOU'RE 8!" Inside, it says "HULK GREEN WITH ENVY. Happy Birthday, Superhero!"]

["Superhero!" has been crossed out, and "Welsh Civil Servant!" written under it.]

["Only Wales would hire 8-year-olds," the Master has added below that.]

Nope, it's all good. The Doctor's eight. :|b

[dreamtofbeing]

Reminding yourself that you've got friends who care about you enough to send you birthday cards. [Dry. You're so sadly predictable.]

[He finishes tearing open the envelope and pulls the card out. As he looks at it, his dry expression changes into a smile. He opens it to read it and gives a small laugh; then looks up, still smiling and looking genuinely pleased, as well as amused.]

Who's the Hulk here? You?

[greatest_monster]

Me? [The Master had never considered the card implying that.] No. No one's the Hulk. [His tone is flat and definitive. No one here is a self-loathing scientist who turns into a green giant with a bad haircut and purple shorts on his bad days. Quit being silly.]

[He eyes you a moment, and then uncrosses his arms with an effort.]

Happy birthday. [He is Being Civil.]

[dreamtofbeing]

[No one's the Hulk. Alright. He nods, still smiling, and inspects the card again before he looks back up to watch you make an effort to be civil. He doesn't stop smiling, but the expression grows softer, more thoughtful.]

Thank you.

[He lives with you. He shares a flat with you; they went curtain-shopping together. Or, well, you went curtain-shopping and he tagged along because he likes looking at all the different buttons on the button rack in the fabric store. Still. He could never have predicted this. Would have laughed if anyone had.]

[He's going to move in for a hug. Is that okay? Can they do a hug? You can count it as a thank-you-for-the-birthday-card hug, which it actually is, at least partly.]

[greatest_monster]

[Lets you hug him, and attempts to hug back. It comes off as very business-like, stiff-spined, his chin up instead of resting on your shoulder. Hugging. Okay. He's hugging.]

[dreamtofbeing]

[Oh, Master. You're usually better at this. When you can be sure that it's not sincere. He'll give you a squeeze and then release you fairly quickly, still smiling.]

Do we have any plans for today?

[greatest_monster]

[Oh. You let go. He was planning on having time to be standoffish and then to give in and relax. Reluctantly, of course.]

We? [Eyebrows at you. If he'd made plans with you, he'd think you'd know.] I don't know. Have we? [He's made plans. But he's going to be arch for a moment.]

[dreamtofbeing]

[Yes, he let go. It was just a thank-you hug. Don't worry, he's sure they'll have more chances to hug as the day progresses.]

I don't; I've kept the day free in case we do. But I wouldn't mind spending the day kicking back and relaxing, either. [Have a broad smile. It's up to you.]