Sold Painting

It had been before the Nothing emerged. Before the world turned into chaos with fusions and danger. Micah had lived in Rivertide for quite a while, several years where he had helped out with festivals, donated paintings to galleries and such. He had made a name of himself there, despite not wanting to, by aiding the festivals and decorations. After several years he had decided that he wanted to start anew again and thus moved to Wintervale.

He still struggled with the cold of the region, dressing himself up warmly. Even inside, he still felt the biting chill of the snow outside. He’d only been there a couple of months, and needed to sell some of his works to try and get a studio that wasn’t funded by his rich friends. He still struggled with that concept, however- keeping the profit. “Why don’t you keep the money.” People had asked him. “Why not keep the profits and the recognition?”

The thing was, though, that Micah wasn’t doing it for money, or recognition. Sure, the money helped, but he liked being able to create works that influenced the mood and feelings of other people. It inspired anger, sadness, loneliness, happiness, butterflies, and more. His reputation would reach the people it needed to. That’s what he convinced himself of.

This time around, he had been standing in front of a sculpture, his hands behind his back as he examined it. One of his peers had made it- displayed it in the gallery that he was oh so familiar with. There were some areas he would’ve preferred to do differently on it, if he did say so himself, but it was a steller sculpture nonetheless.

He circled it, examining the metal on it. The man preferred stone, himself. It wasn’t something many people still used except to pay homage to the old ways. With the increasing advancements in technology and such, many artists and sculptors went on to use more modern methods. Micah was more of the olden times. Paints- oils and fresco- marble, that sort of stuff. And, judging by how some of his work sold, he wagered there was still a market of appreciators like him as well.

It wasn’t until he got back to the original position that he realised a woman had joined him in the appreciation of the statue. She was sharply dressed, a long elegant dress skirting over her legs with a gap in between. Her chest was adorned with what seemed like golden pearls trailing off to her arms to form mock sleeves. Her hair black- a sharp contrast to his own cream coloured head. Behind her, a large Seviper with greyed scales seemed to look around- keeping an eye on anyone that would come close. Even more noticeable were the bodyguards stood not too far away from her. Someone of importance, then, he assumed.

“It’s not often I see others who look at statues like this the way you do.”

Her voice sounded just as elegant as her looks- and it made him nervous. Sure, he had rich friends- artists and not- but something about her… was different. Not just the bodyguards and the Seviper. It was something more than that. He dragged his eyes away from her to look back at the statue.

“It’s good to see you again, Micah.”

She spoke with a flirty smile, her hand reaching to stroke the Seviper’s back as it stood beside her. Micah knew her- Diana Laine. He had met her numerous times in Rivertide.

“Likewise, Diana.” “I will say, I wasn’t expecting to see you in Wintervale, of all places. Visiting?” “Not this time. I moved here a couple of months back.” “I see. Well, it seems good art chases you around, then. Convenient.”

Diana gestured to a painting further away from them, where a man walked up and pasted a ‘sold’ next to it. Micah knew it. It was up for thousands of credits- because he was the one who had made it.

“I adore the artist. I have contacts in every art gallery, making sure to inform me when he donates a piece to be sold.

She turned to him with a smile on her face- probably smugger than anything. Still, he couldn’t exactly hold it against her- he was profiting off of her purchase, even if it’s a little.

“If you ever find him, make sure to point him my way. I’d love to commission him for a private painting.”

Micah had to let out a chuckle as he too smiled and looked back to the statue. He couldn’t lie- but he kept his own reputation under wraps. So he couldn’t speak the truth, either.

“I don’t know what gives you the impression that I know him, but I’ll keep your words in mind for if I do happen across the mysterious painter.”

She gave him a wink and a smile before she turned, the Seviper noticing and slithering around to follow. Micah let out a laugh, turning to follow her then. Her pokemon knew him at the rate that the two have met, and so did her bodyguards. Micah gave them a nod in greeting as he walked along with the woman. While he was here, new, in Wintervale– it would do him well to take her up on her offer. After all, it seemed like she knew exactly who he was.