Casually use his birthday has a welcome excuse to throw a party at Mother Base again in order to boost staff morale which is getting low after the recent events. "I remembered it was your birthday today and figured you’d like a small party." Give him a -notreallygentle- slap on the back with his crutch. "Come on; Ocelot. Let's enjoy ourselves for one evening, what do you think? The men's needs it. It will boost their morale to see you actually behaving like a human being once in awhile."
“Wait, you what?” Gaze transfixed on familiar features, it was in an almost neutral tone that disbelief was uttered, displaying but a MERE FRACTION of his incredulity faced to a behaviour he deemed abnormal.
‘Watch the man to your left, to your right. Assume nothing. Report everything. The deadliest enemy’s right here - in our midst.’
PARANOIA ENFORCED upon all rallied under a command as eminent as Big Boss’ would lead to no favourable outcome. Not that he had expected a man lost to his LUST FOR REVENGE, satiating it the sole purpose of his thrives, the UTMOST PERFECTION of his public image in spite of missing limbs born of a sheer stubbornness willing to fight all inconvenience he put upon himself on his own, to leave a MANIACAL state. And yet, raison, or a hint of it, had descended from the Seychelles sun (or maybe he still possessed a bit of it in itself, who knows?) to grace his brain, in amounts sufficient to temper a TREMENDOUS pride enough to NOT ONLY acknowledge a special day he had made no prior mention of, but also to celebrate it.
A hit, of strength reminiscent of the soldier Miller had once been, STARTLED, ensuring that the circumstances were no dream, no show of TWISTED HUMOUR buried beneath anger gnawing at a dog’s bones.
Oh he was going to enjoy it!
“Is that so?” MISCHIEVOUSNESS DRIPPED from a feline’s words, lips curling up, and up, his frame slithering closer, his arm sliding around (too) heavily clothed shoulders, a gloved hand holding muscle yet to soften in inactivity. “You threw a birthday party just for me, hmmm? Who would have thought?” DENIAL awaited he was certain, reminders of the soldiers’ disastrous morale resulting from their VERY EXECUTIVE OFFICER failing to cater to it, or perhaps a couple more childish jabs for him to disregard. “You’re on. I’ve heard very interesting things about these— parties you threw back in MSF. Don’t disappoint me, Miller.”