Oh, it ain't MY birthday. Mine's in July. It's my friend's birthday, and she's spendin' it recoverin' from that handcuff crap... You should hurry and get it off!
[He was stabbed and left bleeding in the street on his most recent birthday. He only has vague, blurry memories of being in a hospital before he woke up here, in a morgue. It certainly hadn't been the best :|]
Or even poetic ☆ But that's such a pessimistic way of looking at things; you don't know you're going to die, after all. Or have you already given up?
[He sounds cheerful enough perhaps, but he's not feeling particularly healthy himself]
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My apologies, then.
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Thanks. I didn't think the handcuffs would be on this long.
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[Sarcasm all over that statement. Of course, "suspense" was being kind here.]
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But... happy birthday anyways!
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[She smiles, just a little.]
Thanks. [A light sigh as she shakes the handcuffs.] I think it's going to be a long day.
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That... really sucks. I'm sorry. But uh, Happy Birthday anyway? Even though, uh, I guess it won't be happy.
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I'm starting to think we should just have a huge party when the cuffs come off. [He doesn't say if, because that thought is scary.]
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Maybe. It would be a change of pace from being cuffed.
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Is it? I've never paid much attention to them, myself. It's just another day, after all.
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Or even poetic ☆ But that's such a pessimistic way of looking at things; you don't know you're going to die, after all. Or have you already given up?
[He sounds cheerful enough perhaps, but he's not feeling particularly healthy himself]
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[The fact that she feels like death isn't really convincing her that she might live, though.]
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