In your messhall, being mocked by life.

[whoooosshh]

*The messhall is tonight the host of quite a spectacular spectacle. Upon a table stands an elaborate cake, shaped like a black coffin (dark chocolate) being draped in a red, torn sheet (marzipan) and adorned with sixtyone majestic black candles and marzipan-decorations shaped like broken hearts (tastes like strawberries). Next to it lies a written

Comments

[this_is_theway]

Oh! Is it your birthday?

[this_is_theway]

[Takes a few steps back and watches it turn back into baked goods]

. . .

[whoooosshh]

... Is it still good?

[this_is_theway]

I'm not sure...

This is this place being weird again, isn't it?

[whoooosshh]

... Yeah.

[this_is_theway]

Well no wonder you're over here by yourself.

[whoooosshh]

... If I leave, the cake disappears. It's better to let people eat it than just throwing it away.

[this_is_theway]

That's really sweet of you. I'll make sure to return the favor sometime.

[nom nom eating caake]

[whoooosshh]

... If you say so.

*Darn kids and how they never want to just leave me alone and let me be and just accept all my help without them feeling guilty and having to do me favors again. HARUMPH.*

[this_is_theway]

[Well sorryyyy for being not emotionally retarded]

My name's Penelo. What's yours?

[whoooosshh]

*YEAH YOU SHOULD BE. I remember the good old days when everyone who wasn't got shanked midgame THOSE WHERE THE DAYS HARUMPH.*

Vincent Valentine. It's nice to meet you, Penelo.