Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26414442-20150506015955/@comment-26414442-20150512043740

((That sounds like a rap battle that would go down in history. I'll have to see what I can do with a prompt like that.))

Airmid had been silent the whole debacle, waiting for the moment to strike.

"While I appreciate your confidence in sharing your thoughts," she said, trying to keep her voice in its typical cool clarity. "Some people are clearly ignoring the purpose of Dead Epics."

She breathed in. If she wanted to calm everyone down, if she wanted to break the awkward silence, she had to do this right. And that meant, speaking right. "Firstly, Baga Yaga wanted me to run this group to support Future Dead Students. Not Grimm. He's hardly rubbing this in our faces – in fact, he doesn't care about us. Which brings me onto my next point."

Airmid paced the room. "Who cares about us, anyway? The rest of the school avoids us! Being friends with those destined to die, you can practically feel the tension! You would have to think carefully about anything you might say, least we be sensitive. And being emotionally attached to someone who would be leaving this world after graduation... hardly anyone would want that pain. You realise we get called ghosts behind our backs, right? You realise the faculty doesn't speak to us as often as the others, right? The whole world – the Grimms, the staff, fate, destiny, whatever you believe in – is against us."

"What I'm trying to say is, if the world's against us, then we need to support each other. Oppression from destined death is not a contest."

She sighed, and slumped down onto the nearest chair, defeated. There was so much more she wanted to say, so many more ideas swirling into her head. But everything was so confusing. There was so much noise, so much movement. Airy felt her senses becoming overloaded. She wanted to yell at the others as well. She wanted to fight and scream and let out her emotions.

Emotions. Airmid frowned at that word. She wished she could express her emotions, but never knew how to express them the ways others did. Comforting pats on the shoulders and whatnot.

"Also," she added, with a tone of finality, with her head bowed, tugging anxiously on a strand of hair in front of her hair. "Don't make fun of people's coping methods."