(no subject)
[There is a banner painted in large, purple, glittery and ever so obnoxious lettering somewhere where lots of people gather, saying:
Congratulations Vincent Valentine, to Sixty years and Thirty-nine votes!
And may you have many many many many many many many...
And so on and so forth, in smaller and smaller font. And look at this, there is a large cake in the shape of a black coffin (chocolate with strawberry filling if you're curious) and red wine and black currant juice/strawberry juice/lots of other red juices for the wee ones! But where's the birthday boy? Oh there he is, lying on that slab! My such dedication he must have to his horror theme, he even got a nine-foot tall guy in a doctor's outfit carrying his severed... arm...]
Now then Valentine, with the final injection out of the way all that is left is to reattach the arm before your flesh can heal and where did my clinic go?
... What the-
Ah, as I was saying-
[And so Faust sticks Vincent's arm into it's socket whereupon it reattaches itself to his body with many gruesome sounds and painful gruntings.]
-It should be functional within two minutes or so, given what I know of your body's recovery rate. So, I suppose all that is left is to wish you a quick recovery and ah, a happy birthday!
[... Well. As long as you ignore the freaks there's totally cake and drinks to be had. That's always nice, no.]
[[OOC: I AM GETTING KIND OF POSTVIOLATED HERE. Hence I ask you all to bear with me and my slow, slow responses.
ETA: And I'm out for the night. I shall return to pick up later, birthday boys and girls!]]
Congratulations Vincent Valentine, to Sixty years and Thirty-nine votes!
And may you have many many many many many many many...
And so on and so forth, in smaller and smaller font. And look at this, there is a large cake in the shape of a black coffin (chocolate with strawberry filling if you're curious) and red wine and black currant juice/strawberry juice/lots of other red juices for the wee ones! But where's the birthday boy? Oh there he is, lying on that slab! My such dedication he must have to his horror theme, he even got a nine-foot tall guy in a doctor's outfit carrying his severed... arm...]
Now then Valentine, with the final injection out of the way all that is left is to reattach the arm before your flesh can heal and where did my clinic go?
... What the-
Ah, as I was saying-
[And so Faust sticks Vincent's arm into it's socket whereupon it reattaches itself to his body with many gruesome sounds and painful gruntings.]
-It should be functional within two minutes or so, given what I know of your body's recovery rate. So, I suppose all that is left is to wish you a quick recovery and ah, a happy birthday!
[... Well. As long as you ignore the freaks there's totally cake and drinks to be had. That's always nice, no.]
[[OOC: I AM GETTING KIND OF POSTVIOLATED HERE. Hence I ask you all to bear with me and my slow, slow responses.
ETA: And I'm out for the night. I shall return to pick up later, birthday boys and girls!]]