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Being a degenerate is okay these days
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"It was the cafeteria," Georgia Lee mumbled against Fiyori's poncho. She wasn't sure if Fiyori was hugging her or trying to smother her.

"I had... g-good reasons..."

She always had good reasons, but nobody ever listened. She just had to hold out until they all saw that she was right.

It was funny in a way, the idea of Fiyori considering her a demon. It was a role reversal that Georgia Lee would never have considered.

Fiyori smelled terrible, a metallic tang of dried blood clinging to her along with the scent of going unwashed for a week. She felt terrible, some kind of spider encroaching on Georgia Lee, trapping her.

But she felt familiar.

When Georgia Lee's legs gave out, she slumped against Fiyori, clinging to her to stay upright. She felt solid, real, where Georgia Lee herself was starting to feel so very far away.

She felt like home.

G029 GEORGIA LEE DAY: DECEASED
"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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I know exactly what I want and who I want to be. · Doctors’ Offices