Peter felt the shield as it settled in place. That was enough to let him relax. He slipped off his jacket, draped it over the back of a chair, and picked up one of the paint brushes.
"I don't know how long this'll take," he said, glancing back at her. "But... here goes."
He turned to face the canvas and shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. A moment later, his eyes opened, stark white, with no pupil or iris. He tilted his head back and forth, as though watching something on the blank canvas. After another moment, he began to paint, hands moving as though they were being jerked along by marionette strings.