2007-04-22: Dark Future Is Dark


Cass_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif Lachlan_icon.gif (Painting by Mel!)


Peter comes by Lachlan's to get some training for Snowy and to test out his future painting abilities. What he paints upsets everyone involved. Because, come on, when does Peter ever paint something happy?

April 22nd, 2007:

Dark Future is Dark (OR Do Not Want OR Dark Shadow Tendrils of Doom)

Lachlan's Apartment - Brooklyn, NY

Though Lachlan's apartment is all but packed up and ready for the move, that doesn't mean that he's actually moved yet. Though it's weird for Cass to be hanging out in a place filled with boxes, she's decided to give the place a good old send off by cooking a full out dinner. Plus, it can double for a 'hurrah no more stitches' celebration, if a little late. She's not exactly the best cook in Manhattan (or Brooklyn for that matter) but she's passable and the few dishes that she knows she knows by heart. Pasta with a homemade simple tomato sauce (with sausages and beef mixed in) and some garlic bread are in the making. A bottle of wine is opened for Cass and some scotch is out for the Scot. "Laaach! Do you have a strainer?"

There had been a promise to meet a certain man about a dog, and today… would be the day he's trying to keep that promise. With dinner time creeping up on him, Peter's got the puppy on leash, and she's been more than happy to walk from the cab to the door of the apartment, while he carries something bigger and bulkier. Still, there's not as much bulk as he might have had if he had gotten full sized canvases. The ones he carries in the canvas bag are less than a foot by two feet in size, making them fairly small, but hopefully big enough. The biggest thing in the bag would actually be the unfolding eisle. Also, in the bag, are paints, in a pre set up palette, and brushes, and finally… a plastic tarp. Just in case this works at any time, he doesn't want to ruin anyone's place… Knocking on the door, he glances at his watch and checks. If the man isn't home, maybe he'll try painting in the park. The puppy looks up at him from where she stands, curious about where they are. This is a new place!

The only things that haven't been packed up are the bits of furniture, some clothes, and a few dishes that can be put away at the last minute. It's on the loveseat that Lachlan currently lounges, while Bonnie decided that whatever CassCass was doing in the kitchen required Supervision and thus she is sitting somewhere close at hand to catch any stray bits of food that are dropped (or thrown) in her general direction. Lachlan isn't so fortunate (besides, he gets to eat the /real/ dinner when it's finished); he's attempting to amuse himself with … a book. Yes, a /book/, of all things. Who knows where it came from or even what it is? The question from the kitchen easily distracts him (judging by the fact that he keeps turning pages at a quick pace, it's safe to assume he isn't /reading/, really) and he squints at the ceiling. "Wha's a strainer?" Cass may cook; the Scotsman does not. Then there's a knock at the door, and he rises to his feet with a grunt, tossing the book onto the sofa and moving to answer the summons. He doesn't have to look through the peephole to tell it's a client; he knew the instant Snowy came within range. The door is opened without question, and Lachlan stares at the bulky items Peter carries with one eyebrow raised. "… 'f yer plannin' ta move in, ye'll have ta wait; 'm no' moved out yet."

Cass doesn't answer right away as she sneaky-like gives Bonnie a small piece of sausage. Of course, she's willing to bet that Lachlan will /know/ that she just did that, but that's not the point! "You know, a strainer! You know, the dish thing with holes in it that lets water out so you can drain your pasta! A strainer!" It's highly possible that Lachlan does /not/ in fact know what a strainer is. But by explaining she can be extra sure. The knock on the door doesn't really phase her as it's Lachlan's apartment and she doesn't need to answer it. There's stirring and checking and taste-testing to do. But when he opens the door, she does turn around to look over the counter and see who it might be. "Peter!" she calls out with a grin, waving a saucy spoon as her greeting. "Hey!" Just as curious about what it is he's bringing with him other than a dog to a dog training session - what she assumes he's here for - she raises an eyebrow. "Is that all for Snowy?"

"No, I'm not— here to move in," Peter says, surprised at that comment before he looks nervously down at his paints. The little puppy is extremely excited, hopping around on her leash and giving this loud breathing noise as she looks up at Lach. She's not barking, but doing the closest thing. Why is she all excited? She smells food, and somehow he can tell that's why. Which he hadn't been able to before. "Am I interupting dinner?" He can't actually smell it himself, but a dog smells tons better than he does. "I can always come back later. I just— Cass and Elena both recommended you for puppy training— and we talked about it on the phone— and I figured you should meet her." Wait, there was another part, wasn't there. "…You're moving?" And— there's Cass! "Hi. No— no— this is— I wanted to try painting again." She should understand what that means, from the look he's giving her. "I've just been trying to find the right place to do it. Elena said I could use her apartment, but since she's out of town…" He's kinda up a creek.

"Yeah, yeah," Lachlan waves off Peter's explanation, grinning as he steps to the side to let the other man and his dog come in. "'M just pullin' yer leg. Yer a'righ', c'mon in." He is in a good mood, apparently. Snowy's excited state probably has a bit to do with that. The Scotsman's attention is almost immediately on the dog, to whom he sends calming signals as he smiles down at her. "'S Snowy, then? Hey, Snowy. Yer a young 'un." He squints a bit. "'Merican Eskimo, yeah? 'S got blue eyes." He says it like it's a bad thing. Everything about painting is basically ignored; Lachlan's got something else to focus on right now. Bonnie pads out of the kitchen to stare at the newcomer with ears curiously perked, head up and cocked to one side, tail slowly swaying behind her. Who's this?

"Oh!" Cass doesn't even need the look to get what Peter is talking about. Though he might be a hidden artist, she thinks it might have come out in conversation at some point. Plus, why else would he need to go to someone else's house to paint something. "Right!" She glances over at Lachlan and then over to her bubbling pots and quickly goes back to stirring so the water doesn't boil over. "There's enough for three, Peter. And I don't mind you painting here if Lach doesn't." While it might not be polite to invite someone in to someone else's apartment for dinner, she's the one that's cooking and therefore she gets to spread the wealth around. "He's moving soon anyway, so we can just blame the paint on someone else and then make a run for it." Lachlan's already inviting Peter in and getting on with the dog talk, so she'll let them do that.

Snowy calms down almost immediately, standing there with her tail wagging happily. The bigger dog's arrival gains a hint of reaction, mostly a lowering of her pointed ears and a slight backing away. "Yeah, and Eskie. The vet told me that blue eyes might cause problems later on, but— it's also the reason I got her in the first place, most likely. Someone abandoned her at a puppy daycare that Elena's friend works at." Which explains how he got a dog in the first place. Otherwise… he steps further inside, still holding onto the leash, as he looks towards Cass. "Oh, thank you. I can eat a little, thanks." Setting the canvas bag down, with all the stuff piled in it, he runs his freed hand over — and partially through — his hair and looks towards her, "I have a tarp, so— hopefully it won't get paint anywhere. And it's unlikely I'll get anything. I've spent hours staring at a sheet of paper and haven't even got stick figures yet. That's why I've decided to try paints this time." But— he can't do it at his own place. For various Elle-colored reasons.

"Yeah, s'no' allus a good sign fer Eskies," Lachlan agrees almost absently, nodding his head as he examines the dog. Calming, encouraging signals are directed at Snowy when she shows signs of nervousness in Bonnie's presence, and Bonnie herself sits promptly on her haunches in a completely relaxed manner. After a moment's pause, he glances at Peter, brow furrowing slightly, inquisitively. "So how come yer bringin' 'er here if ye can just take m'powers an' do the trainin' yerself?" Any regard for not letting on that he knows what Peter can do is thrown out the window. Nobody said the Scotsman had tact. "An' wha' sort o' trainin' ye lookin 'fer?"

"Well, it's not quite ready yet." Cass starts opening random drawers to find utensils she needs and pot holders. "You boys just go on with the dog talking. As soon as Lachlan tells me where he keeps his pot holders. You /do/ have pot holders, right?" But if he didn't have a colander, than it's possible he doesn't have pot holders. "It's fine, Peter. I'm sure you won't make a mess or anything. Almost everything is packed away anyway. Paint on a cardboard box isn't a huge deal." Mulling around, she stirs her sauce a few more times for good measure and then turns the heat down, listening to them talk about dogs in the background. However, Lachlan's last comment gets a frown and a stern sounding, "Lachlan!" Remember what she said about being nice to her friends?

There's a frown, and while Peter's getting /clues/ that he can talk to the dog, or at least understand what the dog's giving off… "I don't know half as much about dogs as you do. Even if I can absorb your ability, it doesn't make me better at it than you are. Or even as good as. If I could use half the abilities I have as well as the people I got them from, I wouldn't be carrying around these canvases trying to paint the future. I'd just be doing it." In some ways he sounds insulted, but in others… "Besides, ability isn't everything. You understand the dogs better, don't you?" Reaching in, he pulls out the eisle, and starts to set it up, unfolding it, and then the tarp, which he seems most concerned about covering the floor with. "I'm sure you even know more about what to train her for than I do. All I'm worried about is wanting her to be able to tell me when she needs to go out for a walk. And in a normal way." Because there are times he can't do a thing.

Whooof. Did Lachlan say something wrong? He sure got chastised there. He glances over his shoulder at Cass with a frown that is mixed confusion and remorse. He's not sure /why/ he shouldn't say such things, but he figures it was one of those Bad Things Not To Say To Customers, so he doesn't ask. Note to self: don't ask customers why they can't just train the dog themselves. Peter's explanation lends a little more enlightenment and the Scotsman nods a bit, any insult taken on the other man's part completely lost on him. "A'righ'. 'F yer just worried 'bout housetrainin', s'easier fer me ta take the dog fer a week ta teach 'em. Canna just magically 'ppear ever'time she's gotta go, yanno." Suddenly: Lachlan! "An' I'm movin' b'tween 'partments righ' now, so it'll be a day 'r so."

"Right. I figured I'd need to leave her with you for a while. I don't mind leaving her with you for a week. I can drop her off when you get settled into your new place?" All in all, Snowy starts to calm down around Bonnie, even if she still seems a bit timid. Size matters in the doggie world, and Eskies aren't often found to be mean. She doesn't have a mean bone in her tiny body. Maybe one mean fur out of thousands and thousands. Either way, her owner has set up what he needed to, including dropping the first pre-layed canvas down onto it, and he glances towards the place where Cass left to, then looks back at Lachlan, "Are you sure you don't mind? This is your place, after all. I'll give you back your cleaning deposit if you lose it, or anything." Assuming he hasn't already. Peter's not sure about the man, but he's wanting to be polite. Only thing he has to do is pick up the paints and the brushes.

"Nah, yer a'righ'," Lachlan assures as he drops back onto the sofa, keeping his mind on the two dogs and alternating signals as he deems necessary to keep both of them calm and comfortable. "'Ve prolly stained the carpet more'n ye can righ' now." He watches what Peter does with interest, going silent for a little while before he finally just can't take it anymore: "So … ye paint?" Astute.

"No, not really," Peter says, grabbing a bottle of water and a cup out of the bag, filling the cup up. "I sort of— I have once. But only around Isaac. Did Cass tell you about the paintings? The ones Isaac Mendez did? I— I gained his ability, but I can't really paint. I've only done it once. The other times were stick figures and colored pencils, but they came true— or would have." The ones with the city burning didn't come true, at least. With a deep breath, he picks up the brush, opens the pains in the other hand and looks at the canvas. Okay… now what? "The painting I did was already half done, but… I saw something in the canvas… so I'm hoping the same happens."

While Lachlan and Peter have been talking about dogs and security deposits, Cass has been problem solving in the kitchen. She couldn't find pot holders, so she rummaged around for some dish towels. Then, she couldn't find a strainer, so she rigged up the pot to drain through a small opening through a pot lid. Not exactly MacGuyver quality here, but it works! Then, noodles drained and washed, she takes the sauce and pours it right into the pasta, stirring and putting it back on the heat so that it will stick to the noodles. Once that is all done, she opens the oven, pulls out the garlic bread with her dish towels, scoops out pasta into bowls for three people and dinner is served! Trying to be a waitress, she runs into the problem of how to carry out three bowls with two hands. Well, she'll just balance the third bawl in between her arms. Which works for a bit since she's being careful until the heat seeps through and she yelps, the bowl drops and right after Lachlan asks his insightful question about painting, there's a crash. "Crap!" Luckily, she made a lot. "I've got it! Keep talking!"

The crash causes Bonnie to leap to her feet with a bark, as though that will somehow help the situation. Then, she's dashing over to investigate and — food! — begins to gobble up what was dropped. How nice of Cass to share so much food! Lachlan jumps too (but he doesn't bark) and half-turns to stare at the chaos. "Bonnie." The sharp command in addition to whatever telepathic recall he sends to the dog is enough to pull her away from the dropped bowl before she gets too much of it. The same sort of telepathic signals are sent to Snowy, should the dog show an interest in following Bonnie's example. "Ye a'righ'?" he calls back to Cass, but since she doesn't seem to be in any major crisis, he turns his attention back to Peter. He vaguely remembers something about paintings or whatever, but it was a while ago, and he's probably tossed it out as irrelevant information by now (whatever he retained of it, anyway). He just stares at Peter blankly. "Uh … righ'." Whatever you say, Mister Miracle-Gro.

Glancing over towards the sound of crashing and dropping of things, Peter's half tempted to help out until… he catches something in the corner of his eye. Suddenly glancing back, he frowns, squinting vaguely at the canvas for an instant, as if trying to look at one of those magic eye puzzles of old. The crash and the spilled pasta has been forgotten in favor of whatever his eyes are trying to catch. Another deep breath, and his eyes slide shut, and when they open again, if the two move to look, they're no longer brown at all, but all white, and he starts to move as if suddenly confident and with a purpose. A purpose to paint, apparently.

Sighing, Cass puts down the bowls of pasta to clean up. "I'm fine!" It doesn't take too long. She just grabs some paper towels and a sponge, cleans up what Bonnie didn't wolf down and is careful with the broken pieces of bowl on the floor, talking as she does so. "Yeah, it's kind of scary. It was an Isaac Mendez painting that actually got me into this whole thing. I've got one hidden away in the back room of my store." Though no one may be listening, she doesn't mind. Once the floor no longer has pasta sauce on it, she comes back into the room with only two bowls - handing one over to Lachlan and…well, she's about to hand one to Peter when she notices that his eyes are completely white. While not quite as scary as a hand being taken off, it's still startling and she stands there with a bowl being held out to a man seemingly in a trance for a few moments before she brings it back closer to her body with a worried frown. "I hope that's how he always looks when he's doing that."

That … it … wow. Lachlan doesn't even realize he's been given a bowl; he's too busy staring at Peter in bewilderment and even a bit of uneasiness. "Uh." Awkward pause. "'S he a'righ'?"

At first, the painting is a mess of frantic strokes and colours that take no familiar shape. There are strange lines that don't seem to fit with the blots next to them. At some point, however, the strokes become more purposeful, the painting beginning to take form. It is a massive thing, this painting: a landscape, desolate and bleak, with no blue sky or yellow sun. In their place, there are dark clouds obscuring natural light, and liquid shadows reach out like wicked tentacles over Times Square. Windows of skyscrapers are shattered, walls crumbling, but this is only half of the painting; as yet, Peter hasn't begun to paint the bottom half.

Though Cass has made all this food, she's kind of creeped out by Peter's eyes and his intense focus. Dropping onto the couch absently, all her attention is on the canvas and what is slowly being depicted there. "I…I don't know." And it's true. She's never seen him do this before, it's not a power they've practiced. "I hope so." Though she's not really hungry, she spears pasta with her fork and slowly chews it without thinking or even watching what she's doing.

Meanwhile, Lachlan is completely speechless and his food remains untouched. He just sits there on the loveseat, staring. Bonnie grows slightly uneasy at the silence and the staring and the creepy vibes she's getting from everyone and she whines in a low voice, watching it all uncertainly. Once the painting starts to take shape and grow recognizable, the Scotsman remarks: "Tha' looks like Times Square." Except … not really.

Snowy is also a little creeped out, and actually moves closer to Bonnie as if seeking protection from the bigger dog. The little white eskie isn't fond of this exersize. It smells funny and makes her owner act weird.

This is most decidedly not the Times Square with which anyone in the room will be familiar, for the wrecked buildings soon take a back seat to what is being painted in the foreground. There are several words that might be used to describe what Peter paints next - disaster, destruction, misery - yet none quite seem to properly capture the scene. There are no cars, as the streets had been blocked off, as evidenced by barriers in the background of the painting; posters and banners tell of a rally, some citing propositions that will be unfamiliar to anyone likely to see the painting. What is most disturbing, however, is the audience of this rally.

The streets and sidewalks of Times Square are littered not with forgotten garbage but with the lifeless bodies of dozens, hundreds of people. The nearest of them lies with her head twisted at an impossible angle, blood, grime and brown hair obscuring most of her face, with lifeless blue eyes staring out from the canvas. What little is shown of her face, however, will look familiar in a strange way, like looking at a photograph. The woman is Cassandra Aldric, and she is almost certainly dead.

As the rest of the painting starts to reveal itself, Cass puts down her fork and the bowl. The apocalyptic scene of Times Square banishes any hunger that she had before. As Peter starts to finish and the woman can make out that it's actually /bodies/ on the ground and nothing else, she tilts her face away from the canvas. That's not something she wants to see fleshed out. Already she can tell this is a future that she wants to stop, even before it's finished. As soon as the scratching the brush on canvas stops for long enough to indicate that he's done, she looks back out of some sort of morbid curiosity as to what the end product looks like. And it takes less than a second for Cass to recognize the body in the foreground of this painting and as soon as she does she continues to stare it in horror, her face turning white. Even as broken and twisted as that woman is, it would be impossible for her to not recognize herself. Understandably, she's struck speechless.

For his part, Lachlan is too fascinated by the fact that Peter's just … /spreading paint on the canvas/ and it looks all dark and twisted and cool — he doesn't pick up on the face in the foreground immediately. He forgets the implication that these paintings tell the future, because really, that was just a tidbit that didn't seem to stick with him. But when Peter finishes and the Scotsman takes in the entire painting, anything appealing he found about the picture dies. Instantly. "The bloody fu— " He surges onto his feet and in two strides has cleared the distance between himself and Peter. Peter himself will soon find himself grabbed by the shirtfront and hauled bodily to his feet. "The /fuck/ d'ye think yer doin'?" Lachlan demands angrily. "Ye think tha's /funny/ 'r somethin'?" It's not funny. It's /creepy/.

For the entirety of the painting experience, Peter is completely unaware of what's occuring. His eyes blink out and regain their color right when Lachlan crosses the room and grabs him. No way at all he could have dodged, still shaken and confused by the transitition from trance to real-life, he doesn't even have much time to look at what he'd drawn. The palette and the brush fall from his hands as he's hauled up. "What— I don't…" He looks around confused, rather lost and bewildered, like someone who just woke up and got lifted up to their feet. Then those returned eyes settle on the painting. What— that's not— Lowering, his eyes find the staring blue eyes, looking out at him, and his face pales. "Is that what— what I painted?" Of course it is. It looks so similar to Isaac's style it'd be hard to tell them apart, but the /painting itself/, the content… leaves him staring. "Oh God. Cass."

When Lachlan surges to his feet and accosts Peter, normally Cass would be immediately on her feet and scolding him to put her friend down. However, she's still taken aback and sort of staring horrified at what appears to be what her future holds. Lachlan's yelling suddenly sinks in and she stands up. "Lach. Stop it. Put him down. It's not his fault." He told her how Isaac's power worked and how it manifested before. Though her voice is shaky, it's still scolding. "You saw how his eyes were. He couldn't see what he was painting." Just mentioning it causes her to shiver and her eyes drift back toward the easel. Then, she turns her back on it and she's staring squarely at Peter. "Mr. Nakamura said that you've stopped Isaac's paintings from coming true before. That they don't all happen this way. This'll be one of those." Though she's trying to sound resolute, she's badly shaken.

And now comes the part with denial in it. It looks for all the world like Lachlan would enjoy putting Peter's face through that canvas and /make/ him take back what he painted, but Cass is there telling him to stop, and so he reins it in. With a small shove to Peter's chest, he releases the other man's shirt and takes a few steps back, though he continues to glare. "S'no' happenin' b'cause he got it /wrong/," the Scotsman growls. "S'a cock-up." That's right. The woman in the painting isn't /really/ Cass. Peter just screwed up. That's all.

Due to the increased tension in the room, Snowy lets out a whine, lowering her head and her ears, as if hoping to avoid the possible danger. Pets often react to the feelings of their owners, even when they can't actively send off signals. Once he's released, Peter stumbles, catches himself, and looks back towards the canvas, trying to look for any sign of when— where is obvious. At least one who is obvious, and it definitely isn't sitting well with him. "Yes— we can stop it. There was a series of paintings on one thing— that was changed. It didn't happen. If it had— none of you would be here anymore. Not only that, but the woman who— the woman who I saved from Sylar— she had a painting too…" At least they are pretty sure it was her. Almost entirely convinced. "It's not… 'set in stone', Lachlan. We can stop it. Treat it as a… as a warning. It doesn't… it doesn't have to happen." His voice is so tight by the time he finishes.

In the face of tension and what may be her death, Cass can't think of anything else to do other than head back into the kitchen and make a bowl of pasta for Peter. He may not be hungry, but it gives her something for her to do other than stare at something so disturbing. Maybe once the shock of it has worn away she'll take a closer look to see if she can figure out clues to help stop it, but right now she just doesn't want to think about it. So, she doesn't really respond to either Lachlan or Peter's explanations. She really doesn't want to argue with Lachlan about whose dead body that may be and all she can do is agree with Peter's assurances that what he's shown them will never come to pass. "There. Good. Warning received." Though the pasta is more lukewarm than hot now, she holds out the bowl to Peter. It seems she'll be determined to feed him no matter where he goes. "Here. Don't know if you're still hungry, but…"

"/S'no'/ gonna happen b'cause ye /fucked up/," Lachlan insists heatedly, clearly the only person who knows what he's talking about in this room. "Ye painted it wrong." He's quite adamant about this, and he will continue to sit in his little box of denial until the Apocalypse. It is a defensive mechanism to keep him from having to deal with deeply emotional things — that is not /manly/. "Yer paintin's a lie." Maybe he doesn't really blame Peter for the painting's contents (except that he misread the vision or whatever-it-was he was looking at). Right now, he's just angry at who-knows-what. The Scotsman slinks back to the sofa and drops down onto it with a huff, scowling.

"Thank you," Peter says to the woman, but can't help but wave his hand, "I— don't feel like eating anymore and…" He looks towards Lachlan, whom he can't really blame for the denial, and the anger and frustration, "I think I should go. Do you want me to… leave this here?" he gestures towards the painting, moving to pick up the fallen paint brush, and the palette that fell, and still looking pale and not too well. "It'll need to dry before it can really be moved but…" he looks towards the man near the dogs, Snowy, who is still cowering with soft whines, "I can still take it with me…" Either way, though, he pulls out his phone. Like all new fancy phones, it has a camera, and he starts to flip through the options. God— he wants this to not be true. "…It's possible I did mess up. I've never done a painting on my own. The one I did was already half done…" So— it could happen. Right?

Nodding absently, Cass just takes the bowl back to the kitchen where she sets it on the counter. Things will be cleaned up later. Automatically, she's moving back to the living room. "You can leave it here for now," she says softly to Peter. "You can pick it up at my place next time you're over if you want." She heads straight for the couch, but doesn't sit down on it. Instead, she stands right next to where Lachlan is sitting and reaches downwards to put a hand gently on his cheek. It's a tender and reassuring sort of gesture. "Maybe it is." Frowning, she turns back to Peter. "Look, just in case…please don't show anyone bottom of the painting. The part with--" she almost says 'me' but stops herself. Frowns. Rethinks. Simply just continues. "--I don't want anyone to freak out."

Meanwhile, Lachlan says nothing more on the matter, offering only a grunt of "yeah, really, y'think?" proportions when Peter concedes the fact that the painting is a mistake. It /is/ a mistake. The more the Scotsman tells himself this, the more it's true. He leans absently into Cass' hand when it touches his cheek, but by now his attention has wandered elsewhere — specifically to Bonnie and Snowy, both of which he is now placating mentally. It gives him something to do, something else to focus on, even if his eyes are currently not focused on anything at present. It's off into Lach Land for him, where everything is perfectly fine and wonderful and there are dogs.

"Right, of course," Peter says, taking one long picture of the whole painting, then shifting the camera so that he only takes the top half and /some/ of the bodies. Not the recognizable one, but enough that they can see the banners. Maybe figure out what they're for later. And to give some level to the range of threat of this particular image. Closing his phone-camera, he pockets it, and begins cleaning up everything but the tarp and the eisle and the painting, stuffing it all back into his canvas bag, which he puts over his shoulder again and walks over to Snowy and picks her up. She's doing better thanks to the active placating, but she's still not quite as perky as she'd been when she first appeared in the house. "I— Cass— I'll talk to you later. I'm really…" Sorry? He hopes she catches that. "I'll drop Snowy off when you're settled so she can be trained. Sorry… for interupting your night." And painting your girlfriend dead.

"Thanks," Cass replies when she sees Peter taking the picture not including her own twisted body. She doesn't move from her standing position by Lachlan, as it's comforting to be just standing by something warm and solid. Something real to anchor her thoughts in the present and not in the future. Then, she gives Peter a weak smile, trying to reassure him as well, knowing that it probably won't have the desired effect. "I know. I'll talk to you soon, Peter."

There's just a faint mumble of acknowledgement from Lachlan that sounds like "yeah". His gaze moves to Snowy when she's picked up, but he's not really looking at her. Once her new canine buddy is taken away, Bonnie simply lays down next to the sofa and remains quiet, watching Peter in much the same fashion as the Scotsman: distant.

Leaving the painting behind, for the two to destroy, mull over, or keep… Peter opens the front door and leaves with his canvas bag and dog in hand. And he doesn't look as pleased with himself as he hoped he'd be with this testing of his abilities.

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