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Massimiliano Buccheri

Every beautiful thing in this world is a love letter from Jayus. Notice how morning bells scatter doves like ash across rooftops and the myriad colors of the sunrise bleed into artisan dreams.

Social Rank: 8
Concept: Skillful Sculptor
Fealty: Lyceum
Family: Buccheri
Gender: male
Marital Status: widowed
Age: 50
Birthday: 11/11
Religion: Pantheon
Vocation: Artisan
Height: tall
Hair Color: silver
Eye Color: gray
Skintone: warm

Description: Massimiliano Buccheri is a man of height and power, even if age has softened some of the broadness built into him from a life of hauling around stone and clay. More than anywhere else, that strength can be seen in his sculptor's hands. Age has stolen the color from his hair but left it an enviable silver with the natural thickness and health of it remaining untouched by time and now it complements the gray of his eyes better than ever the raven-dark mane of his youth did. Those eyes are not prone to the same warmth sometimes kindled in his personality. They're striking, but in a way that better serves the narrative of a cold heart and when he isn't smiling to take that edge from them few would be at fault for believing he's currently displeased with them. As a matter of course, his appearance is maintained thoroughly, his grooming a credit to the class of people from which he hails.

Personality: Never one to lose his temper, Massimiliano is a gentleman first and foremost. While he's gifted with the same passion that often drives his people in Lycene tales, he channels that into his artwork more than his arguments. His composure is his measure of how well he's moving through the world and when it fails him most it is often in the face of great beauty, not great rage. Painting, sculpting, theatre, he has a deep and abiding love for any and all works of art even those for which the mastery of remains an unreachable mystery to him. He's well-spoken for a commoner who claims to have been raised on the streets and maybe that's because books are a luxury he's prone to, never having one far from him in case of a lull during the unending excitement of a sculptor's life. Dry sarcasm may also come to him once in a while, as it sometimes does with those who are as long-lived as he is. He's charitable when he can afford to be, pleasant company when the mood strikes him and otherwise a watchful man of few words unless they're important or asked for.

Background: Giovanni Buccheri never had much time for his only son. He was a hard-working man who did his best to make end's meet on whatever coin a barber could pull in. It was always just enough and never more. Massimiliano's tale was a motherless one at that, so as a child he was largely left to see to himself on the streets of Tor and it was a relationship he grew comfortable with. Unlike some children left to that life he never found himself in much trouble, or if he did it was so unexceptional as to leave little behind him in the way of a reputation. Rather, Massi fell into good hands when he could have been taken in by much worse influences. Early on, in order to afford the things he wanted instead of just the things he needed, the southerner earned a place for himself as a sculptor's apprentice. It was a job that mostly had him hauling materials and running errands and largely wasted his cunning, but it also instilled in him like a seed some deep love for shaping things with his hands - not just the act of it but the whole culture surrounding it - the excitement of someone coming in to gush over a part of their imagination given life or the ways in which daily it would allow him to brush up against various other artisans. It was rare the sunrise that wasn't followed by a much younger Massi being held in awe by the beauty of one work or another whether they were glass blown into the likeness of Tor's famous roses or iridescite being cleverly inlaid into the carved wooden doors of a newly-founded shrine. Tor, very few could argue against, was a city of remarkable beauty playing against the backdrop of the young Buccheri's unremarkable upbringing. In time and with a very rudimentary skillset, Massi absconded from beneath his teacher's wings. He dabbled in other arts, but it was ever and always sculpting where he truly found his comfort and inspiration both. Eventually, with age and experience, people began to look at his creations with the same wide-eyed wonder he remembered feeling while gazing upon those works of his one-time teacher and fellow artisans. The rest has been history, but it's the quiet history of an unassuming man who runs a modest trade in making real the imaginations of those who come to him.

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