"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Being a degenerate is okay these days
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((Min-jae Parker continued from I know my soul's freezin', Hell's hot for good reason))

Jae hadn't slept much either.

He had gone where Dorothy said, believing that he was following her, only to find the staff dorms empty with no sign of either her or Alessio. Maybe she had found him again and given chase. Maybe she had just wandered off somewhere. No skin off Jae's back either way, right?

No, either way he was still empty-handed and pissed off. He had sworn a bit, kicked a few things, overturned a piece of furniture or two to make himself feel better, and then he had skulked around the building for the rest of the day in case Alessio decided to show his face. Night came without Jae seeing another soul, insert some edgelord musing about whether he or anyone else left still had souls here. Every thought and feeling that he had was becoming old news; it was all so draining.

He had taken the pillow from a bed and crawled underneath to sleep, dragging his belongings under with him. He was tired of getting surprised during the night. Sleep hadn't come easily, and when it had, it didn't last long. He woke several times during the night to half-heard, half-imagined sounds, clutching the crossbow to his chest and trying not to breathe, straining to hear if anyone or anything was coming closer. Nothing ever did.

Until now.

Jae was already rattled from the announcements. Nadia had gotten her last wish; his name hadn't been called. She had made her choice and gotten her last laugh. He was envious, in a way.

But after her, it was Isabel, Isabel, Isabel, and Dorothy who had helped to kill her and wait what.

What.

That was all that still circled through his head: What. How. Dorothy? Seriously? Seriously?

Dammit all, now he'd probably have to take back some of the worse stuff he had thought or said to her if they ran into each other again.

But, (un)fortunately, there were more immediate things to be concerned with. Such as the pair of feet occupying the doorway. If Jae craned his head to the side a bit, he could make out a girl. Something about her nagged at him, but he didn't think he recognized her. The main problem here was that huge fuckoff sword she was dragging along, but really it was almost as big as she was so the effect was more comical than menacing.

She didn't seem to be moving any time soon, and Jae was starting to get pins and needles from being wedged under the bed for so long, so that decided it. He reached out and bumped the bed frame, deliberately making noise to signal his presence and keep her from getting too... whatever the sword equivalent of trigger-happy was when he started to move.

"Morning," he said, for lack of anything else.
"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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Rear-End Collision · The Staff Dormitories A Block