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Who is this sassy lost child
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What Cristo could see of Tara's smile in the dim light unnerved him. Her following words were no better.

The cameras... he'd forgotten about the cameras, for a little while. There had been no whir of motion, no indication that they were zeroed in on him while he remained still and huddled in the corner. Now he was up and moving, and they were surely tracking his every breath.

He shuddered.

There was something off about Tara, too, something just under the surface there that he couldn't put his finger on and wasn't sure he wanted to. Maybe she was a little unbalanced from all that had happened. Maybe she did have a plan and just didn't want to let him - or anyone watching - in on it. Maybe she was just an odd girl.

"I... see," was all he could come up with as reply.
"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