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- Massimiliano Buccheri + (Giovanni Buccheri never had much time for … 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.the imaginations of those who come to him.)
