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[out_of_realm]

On the couch in the common room, Tom was sprawled out in sweatpants and a wife beater, blankets pooled around his hips and an old buddy cop movie flickering on the projector screen. He wasn't used to this, being so god awful sick. Once in the last five years, maybe, and that had been when the flu had hit him in the middle of snow storm out in the

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[self_named]

"Nice sweater," Duo commented, peeling off some of his own layers, which were numerous, Zwerg in toe, to go and kick back across from Moist.

"Who'd you swindle it off of?"

[forged_hero]

Moist barely looked up, dealing a fresh hand of cards.

"Oh, dear husband, I procured it for you," Moist protested, watching Duo drop layers like certain dancers employed down in the Shades for their fortitude against the elements and the ability to pull of a Watch uniform made entirely of lace. "You're still able to bend under all of that. I wouldn't want you walking around not prepared for the elements."

He tossed Duo a reckless grin, shuffling without even glancing at his hands. "The young soldier in the corner," he said without moving his mouth, "He's harmless. Trust me."

[self_named]

"Moist," Duo said disapprovingly, casting a sympathetic look over at the guy before looking back to the person who had dibs on half his shit.

[forged_hero]

"Oh, come on, I got you out of dog walking the pack for next week," Moist said, sounding put out. It was kind of sad, actually, what he'd always been a little bit afraid of. Do it long enough, and eventually you end up conning old women out of the crusts they toss to the birds. Conning a doe eyed soldier for a ratty sweatshirt was only the first step.

"You want in?" he forged forward, hoping to distract Duo and himself. "Old Man Onion? I know almost all your tells..."

[self_named]

"Oh yeah?" Duo said, kicking his feet up on the table.

"I'm game for testing that theory. First thing I want on the table is that sweater."

[forged_hero]

Moist actively suppressed the twitching grin. "Interesting, I'll grant you. And what will you be putting up, dear husband?"

[self_named]

"What do you want?" Duo countered with a twitch of his eyebrows to mirror Moist's suppressed expression.

[forged_hero]

"I suppose wagering the Deathbot would be in poor taste?" Moist said with a heavy sigh, looking quite put upon.

"Lets get that belt on the table," Moist said after a pause. "For starters."

[self_named]

"All right," Duo drawled, grinning and leaning back, dropping his hands to undo and start sliding his belt out of its hoops.

"Deal, bitch." He wrapped the belt around his hand to coil it then set it tableside.

"Hey, so, I was kinda thinking, about how long I've been here and everything?" he said, voice wholly casual, as was his posture and general air.

"And since I'm comin' up on three years, I think I'm like... twenty one."

[forged_hero]

Moist looked up from his cards with an impassive stare, his default expression when his hands were full of cards and young men were undressing in front of him.

He cleared his throat, looking up at Duo innocently. "...Pardon?" he murmured, calmly rearranging his cards. "When in Anioa's name did that happen?" he asked, gears churning steadily in his head. "You haven't once mentioned your birthday."

[self_named]

Duo laughed, making a subtle show of scratching his stomach just beneath his belly button, so his shirt rode up with the gesture, before dropping his hands again.

Tell this, dealer.

"Yeah, dude, I don't have one. Glad you caught on."

[forged_hero]

"Oh, did you grow out of the ground and slowly ripen into adulthood?" Moist said, mostly to Duo's naval. He looked significantly at Duo's cards, with a certain air of strained professionalism. "I suppose this means I can't introduce you as my teenage bride anymore?"

[self_named]

"Well, you can," Duo said, "but it'll be a lie, I dunno how that sits with you." He idly passed his cards between his fingers, looking the mover.

"Anyway, I didn't have a birth certificate when they found me wandering around on the street, yanno? So who can tell."

[forged_hero]

"Gods and saints, protect me," Moist said, rattling an imaginary drawer. Lies were a lot like glitter, in that as long as you had just a little, you may as well go for broke. It hardly made a difference, in the end.

"We can make one for you," Moist suggested, eyes flicking up to take in Duo's expression. "Throw a dart at a calendar? Roll the dice? Wait for the moon and the stars to align?"

[self_named]

"Oh, come on," Duo said, taking two cards and sliding them to the dealer, face down, "you can't just pick your birthday."

[forged_hero]

Moist dealt two back, then took two of his own, rearranging his hand with practiced deftness.

"Well, not your actually day," Moist agreed reasonably. "That would be ludicrous. But you can, of course, pick a date to get gifts and drink too much and eat cake."

He raised his eyebrows at him. "Doesn't that sound nice?"