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Who is this sassy lost child
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Jae's expression shifted somewhat over the course of Brendan and Dorothy's awkward almost-reunion, but it was all some variation of frowning. Mildly interested, a bit more than mildly annoyed, vaguely disbelieving, in that order.

He tensed again when Brendan retrieved the broomstick, but the next words out of Brendan's mouth just brought the annoyance back rather than anything else. "What, you think we're just going to sit here all day?" He asked, but Brendan was already out the door. "Right, sure, because you're the only one around here who has people to see," he continued at the empty space where Brendan had been.

The thought occurred to Jae, fleetingly, that he could have raised the crossbow again and put a bolt right between Brendan's shoulder blades as he hurried off.

He huffed out a sigh, a short, sharp note of disgust. "Whatever."

There was something to be said for normalcy, but Brendan had always been worse than useless. Brendan with a gun, jumpy, uncertain, with only the faintest idea of what he was going to do? Yeah, fuck that. There was no way that was coming to anything other than disaster. Brendan could dig his own grave if he wanted to, but he wasn't taking Jae down with him.

Jae felt an irrational twinge of resentment; he'd been here first, but now he he had the urge to leave just because Brendan had to go and show his face.The problem was, he didn't actually feel like running off anywhere even if he'd been physically capable of running. He had no idea where to look for Hazel, he was tired, and he wasn't keen on leaving Asha behind. He had half a mind to try barricading the door against any other unwanted company and going back to sleep.

How long had it taken him to get from the garage to the asylum the night before? He'd had no way to tell time besides the position of the moon when he could see it and his own increasing exhaustion.

"The radio tower's on the other side of the island," he informed Asha and Dorothy. "I was there yesterday. There's no way he's getting there and back before nighttime, even if he doesn't make a detour to look for whoever the fuck." Or get himself killed, was the unspoken addendum.

Jae sighed again, quieter, and let himself flop bonelessly backwards to rest his head on his bag again, uncaring if he was squishing any of the food inside. The colored pattern of the stained glass window had crept across the ceiling to the opposite wall in the time since he'd last looked at it.

"I'm going to rest here for a while, but I'm not waiting for him to get back," he said aloud, a sulky note to his voice.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."

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Devil's Choir · Crematorium Chapel