The Painter's Debut!

A small notebook in my lap as I wrote down a list.

A list of my mistakes, of my goals, and my past. Notes for future me to look at and work off of. Because I had messed up, so much. So many things. My messenger bag laid beside me at the part. I ignored the terrible weather.

I coughed. I clutched my ribs, my body. Everything was so sore. Nothing was healing. Nothing was healing right. Even my NanoSym was suffering. It could not regenerate, reconstitute itself the same way as it could before. Both of us were in pain, and it only increased tenfold with our mental link.

I can't even sleep either. Eat. Nothing. Just try and focus. Push through. What had happened to me? I only had a few guesses, a few conclusions to why I was in this predicament. And only one of them made a single bit of sense.

I closed and open a fist, open and close. Again and again. I had to stamp out the pain, the anger, the sheer anguish building up in my lungs. I wanted to scream, shout, cry.

No, I had to keep it in. I had to keep it down. I had to try.

I can't lose control. Not even for a moment.

I could only take so much. I had to find some way to fix this. I had to find a way to fix so many things. And a number of them my own mistakes. What I had done to Kore.

To Lark most importantly of all. What had I been thinking then? They deserved better than that. Better than I had treated. Spider-Bite or Cassidy, they were my friend, and I should have been better.

I should have handled that better.

Wait, was that sunlight on my skin? A new warmness flooded my body as I looked up. That's strange. The forecast said it would be cloudy for most of the day. And they were moving too rapidly for this to be normal weather patterns. What was happening?

I glanced around. Regular park-goers, even on this dreary day, moving about. So nothing strange here. At least, I thought so until someone began to speak up.

A little girl. And she was painting.

And everything in the canvas soon came into focus, into our reality. New objects and people and a tea house began to filter and materialize through into our reality, either created from the elementary particles of our universe or from some sort of alternate dimension. And that was the scientist in me rambling.

And once the girl seemed satisfied or had taken pause in her artistic expression, I got up.

And I began to head towards her. She did not seem to be a villain and my sixth sense was silent in regards to her. It had a lot to say about her person. She was strange and different. What was her deal?

I coughed and choked into my arm before clearing my throat, packed my things into my bag, and began hobbling over, midway straightening my walk and stature to appear somewhat normal and not all going through the worst pains of my life, even with my remarkable biology and natural pain suppression coursing through my veins.

"Hello. Did you make this? It's very nice. Although, I'm not sure if this will fly well with Parks and Recreation, heh."

I clutched my bag. Focus.

"Are those people real? Sorry. I'm Cassidy. And you are . . . ?"

I gazed down at the girl, tired yet intrigued, curious to learn her name and who she is. And how she had done this. I hope she was not a threat or a bad person.

I could use an easy day. Very much.

"Oh, thanks?"

I glanced to the little girl before back at the chair. I quickly sat in it. Not sure how much longer I could have kept standing. I winced. Even that brought its own fresh sort of pain.

I gazed at the girl and around the small establishment as the Painter, as she referred herself, began setting her one painting away. It was a painting of this park, of this very establishment.

The NanoSym pointed it out the picture had clear blue skies. Despite our fatigued state, our combined minds began to piece together what was happening, even before the girl sat down.

It appears she had dealt with park management somehow. I had my doubts for a moment. The NanoSym doubly so at the sudden appearance and power of this girl. The power of creations, even if it were limited by the girl's painting and her proximity to what she drew, was a powerful ability nonetheless.

She was dangerous in the NanoSym's eyes, no matter if she was good soul or not.

I was still stuck on the notion parks and services would allow this. After all, even with the whole money thing, did she have to prove her abilities or that they were temporary? What was involved in that process?

Enough. I was too tired to focus or think about that. Or even to think at all.

The girl poised me a question. One that I did not quite expect. Although, considering my tired state and my bruises and injuries, hidden or not, I was not exactly the picture of perfect health or success in any measure.

"I-uh. Let's get back to that later. Maybe."

I clasped my hands. The scientist in me was curious. And the NanoSym wanted definitive answers to all of this.

"You said this all won't vanish if you stay near here. How does that work when you said the food won't vanish? Certain things stay permanent or not or am I going to end up with, I don't know, hot air or paint in my belly once you're gone?"

My eyebrows creased together slightly. Not out of anger or disappointment, just concern. Concern that came from the curiosity that this place created.

"And what about these servers? Are they real people? Do they have thoughts and feelings? Or are they robots or puppets? If they disappear, does that mean you're . . . "

The girl was young, very young it seemed from what he could tell, and he was not sure if he should be so doom and gloom.

"Does it mean you're hurting them very badly when they go away? I'm sorry. I don't want to . . . . "

Be that guy. The boy scout. The stickler for doing the right thing. I moved and messaged my fingers and hands with each other before speaking.

"Do you have a name besides Painter? Anything else? I'd hate to call you that. Maybe Pate? Or Pai? Maybe even Pie, heh."