Darius looked at Zech with a small frown forming as his hand was stalled but didn't retreat. He glanced down then back up.

"That ... those pieces aren't for show." He had seen the repulsion on his brother's face. "Those are for me." He was working through something and posing the dead helped somehow while also making him a little ill. Maybe he was desensitizing himself from something, he didn't know but it did something beneficial.

"I show off my paintings. And I don't like how they were your go to for embarrassing." He was feeling more like this was a mistake, something stewed inside and felt like something buried was becoming unsettled and rising to the top once more. "But this is supposed to be about the contract, not me getting my family's approval or notice." The few times Darius had been noticed it was never anything good. He was happy to cast them out and live in the mansion like it was cursed by something that stalked the windows. That sounded really nice actually to Darius.