Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26414442-20150506015955/@comment-14800267-20150512025859

Jane got slowly to her feet, taking a couple of carefully controlled steps right up to Pirouette, coming within inches of her face

"Then. Do. Something. About. It!" She snarled "You think any of us deserve what we get? Do you think death is a just desserts for any of us here? All we did to deserve this fate was to be born of the wrong people.  Lead for brains over there says the grass is greener on the other side. The other side of what? The inferno that leaves nothing left of you except a sequin?" She jabbed the girl's sequin with the flat of her hook "Good luck enjoying all that lovely green grass when you're a pile of ash. But hey! Why don't we trust the judgement of a guy who falls in love with a piece of paper because she appears to be missing a limb like him? Someone who doesn't give a flying fish what you're like, only what you LOOK like. Sounds like someone with great rationalizing skills right there, but if you want to get what you deserve, not what that foul fold of flesh we call headmaster dictates, then you better woman the hell up, stop blubbering and get on the right team."

She stepped away, rounding on Tim, hooking his shirtfront, and twisting the fabric so it wouldn't tear around the hook. "And you... I really don't care if yousee your ridiculous, pointless death as some kind of aspiration. I deal with Wonderlandians, I'm used to mad people, but don't you dare tell me what to do! I do not want to die. I do not want to waste my time and effort chasing a flying child. Grimm already ordered my hand cut off. Do you have any idea what that's like, boy? ANY idea what it's like to be tricked into the woods, held down by a grown arse man and have your limb severed by a crying six year old who hasn't got the strenghth to get a clean cut? You go into shock, you bleed, you scream. Yer papa's lookin' fer ye, an' he'll have Grimm's guts in a pile but he can't find ye, because Grimm's got magic. Then ye gotta run fer yer life bein' chased by an eight foot croc. DO YE KNOW WHAT THAT'S LIKE!? No, o' course not. Those who ne'er suffer are always the first tae lecture. Grimm is a human stain, an' a stain on th' carpet is what I plan tae make o' him." She gave a slight physical start when she realised she'd gotten angry enough to drop her Queen's Englished polished accent and fall into the more comfortable (but far far less stylish and respectable) Cornish "pirate" brogue. She released Tim with a shove, stalking back to her chair.

"If you want to sit around and make daisy chains and talk about your feelings, then fine. Just get the hell out."