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Who is this sassy lost child
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Adrenaline drove Jae forward even though his body felt weak and numb. He rolled onto his side and scrambled over Alvaro for the dropped baton, didn't care if his elbows and knees drove in painfully, felt something like victorious when his hand closed around the baton once again.

Alvaro made another move for it, but this time Jae was ready. He kicked out again, felt a satisfying crunch under his boot that might have been Alvaro's glasses or his nose, turned and raised the baton-

"You little-"

His cheeks were wet and his makeup smeared and he was still crying but he was furious and there was a vicious satisfaction as he turned the assault back on Alvaro-


If Jae had been thinking more clearly, he might have been surprised at how much difference a weapon made even when he was down one leg and half a hand-

"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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This Isn't My Home, It's Where I'm Locked Away · Regular Wards