with his boat out of commission and a spectacle made by some unruly tyrant (Thomas Benoit), nikkari no longer has an easy road home. bartering for passage has been proven difficult with trade restrictions on the rise and it's not exactly easy to get into contact with the branch of his organization here. 

but that's a puzzle he's shelved for later.

while he's here as an illegal, he might at least enjoy what hoenn has to offer. it's what crossed his mind when he saw an advertisement for the new art gallery. the cash in his pocket is negligible; one can always drum up resources if they have the proper assets (though he's lacking in most, he still has some at his disposal). 

so with a proper cup of tea in his hands, he wanders about. there's no force behind the act to enjoy himself; the art is pleasant, its brush strokes the work of a pained master. he nibbles on a biscuit before a rather peculiar painting and abruptly turns away.

the red was far too angry and dark in that one for his tastes.

Frank Caffey

☉

nikkari turns minutely. it's not out of place for idle chatter among like minds in a place like this, but the discussion sets him a little on edge given his current situation. he picks at his sleeve collar and finds an easy smile, though still looks somewhat perturbed as he glances back at the painting. 

"savagery," he says. "i would be inclined to think the artist was rather angry when they painted this." the mottled reds, the raging claw-like strokes. 

"but it wouldn't surprise me. these people have been through a lot." the exhibition itself is a beacon of human triumph. bisecting dimensions, assassins from other realms, and yet humans still find joy in sharing their art with the world.

or perhaps it's less of a triumph and more of a desperate plea to feel significant.

Frank Caffey

☉

another tourist. not that nikkari's come to think of himself as such, but sometimes that's all you can feel like. opportunities, mysteries, people - all passing you by because you've only been the watcher.

if he'd taken the time there is a chance he could have pieced it together himself. if he takes the time now, he could probably learn more about this man than the other might be comfortable with. but this is amicable chatter and besides, he's not on the job. 

"i feel most people i've run into are new. it's always the spectacles that get people interested. this region's tragedy is no different than this art gallery," he muses. 

"i haven't, no, but i must be just like the rest. i'm to join a crew on an expedition team to the crater soon." his gaze lifts. "what brings you here?"

Frank Caffey

☉

"oh?" he says, smiling thinly. "then we're similar in that regard." despite his attempts to smother her angular smile and the memories of the intensity in her eyes, they blossom back to the surface now. he looks wistfully at another passing painting, pausing beside frank so that they might peruse while they converse. 

"nikkari hect," he offers warmly in return with an extension of his own. frank's grip is strong, businesslike. most of the rest of him is too. the psychoanalyst in nikkari looks for flaws, but before he can delve too deep, he turns his interest back to the painting at hand. 

"i might be interested in accompanying you, if i may be so bold."

Frank Caffey

☉

nikkari gives the proffered business card a quick once-over, skimming over what he's most curious about: caffey financial group. he tucks the card, and his follow-up questions, away for later.

"i appreciate that. i'm still getting my feet under me, but you'll be hearing more from me, frank."

Frank Caffey

☉