Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-3991308-20160512211718/@comment-3991308-20160525102218

Icarus instinctly grabbed onto the part of his shoulder that had been lightly punched. "Chill, dude," he said. "This is Dead Epics. We're all equal in death, so this club should be open to all, right?"

He stepped away from Bane and the piano and pulled out an ottoman for Tup. "C'mon, take a seat. Or stand. Whatever makes you comfortable."

Was that– did the Yankee just–. Icarus didn't really know whether to believe himself or not, but he could have sworn that in a small moment, the Yankee looked happy. Or impressed. Or amused. A rare sign of positivity. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but they're still forced to sit some classes here. Still, better some freedom than none, right?"

He looked around the room. If this was the turn-up, then it was actually pretty decent. Icarus was impressed. With himself? With the others, bothering to come? He wasn't sure, but there was an odd inkling of pride in him.

"We start with introductions, right? So I'm Icarus Juniper, the next brother-slash-bird from the Juniper Tree. Look, I could tell you how I die, but that's boring. Anyway, my orchestra's running a bakesale next Thursday and if you could come to support us that woul be great. Next."