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doot doot
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Jae's eyes snapped open. He wasn't sure when he had closed them, or how long it had been. An exhaustion that had nothing to do with how much sleep he had gotten was weighing down on him, at odds with the morning sun filtering through the willow tree's branches and the quiet sounds of nature.

And now some random bitch was yelling at him.

"The hell do you want?" He rasped, almost inaudibly. Right, he had screamed his voice out. He wasn't sure if the girl had heard him properly.

She had a gun, an outstretched hand, and a declaration of peace. She didn't look deceptive, but god, he had made that mistake before. Any retreat he had gotten from violence here had always ended worse than before.

Jae didn't lift the crossbow yet, but his finger settled on the trigger.
"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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The Scarlet Garden · Crematorium Gardens