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Who is this sassy lost child
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...Well, then.

Cristo turned to watch the matchbox sail away, eventually landing in some unremarkable patch of grass. Maxim had quite the throwing arm, it turned out. He wasn't sure what to make of the other boy's erratic behavior, but he felt responsible, in a way. Maybe this was the way that Abby felt all the time, with the animals and people that she took it upon herself to care for. All of that "What Would Jesus Do" philosophy, though she wouldn't call it that herself.

Well, he knew what Abby would do in this situation.

He turned back to Maxim, considering his words carefully. He almost backed out of saying anything, but he forced himself to go through with it. He supposed he was responsible in a way, since his attempts at putting Maxim at ease has clearly fallen flat, so now it was up to him to smooth things out again.

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but... is something going on? Are you okay? I know it's probably not my place to ask, but if there's something you want to talk about, I can listen." Cristo made sure to keep his voice even and soft, not pushing too hard for Maxim's response.
"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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Land of Milk and Honey, Don't Fail Me Now · Memories from the Past