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Who is this sassy lost child
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((Cristóbal Morales continued from i can't wait to be sad and alone on the edge of the universe))

There was movement. Someone silhouetted against the light from outside, before slipping into the darkness just as quickly. Cristo blinked a couple times to let his eyes adjust again after the sudden intrusion of the light.

Now, he felt a trickle of fear, something that had been absent so far. People were dangerous in so many ways, he knew. But he stood anyway, grunting softly as his muscles protested from being hunched up so long. His fingertips just brushed the handle of the spear as he rose, but he left it at his feet.

"Hey," he called softly.
"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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Prepare to Burn · The Warehouse