[littl3chocobo]

he pulled his cloak on and grabbed his hat, he was disgusted with the assistant he was given, the boy was an imbecile, he was slow and stupid and now on top of that incompetent. he slammed his fist on a nearby table. how could the child forget the carmine? the most important color! he stomped across the gallery, it was bad enough his paintings were not nella moda but his patron was threatening every day to cancel her contract, what could he do? he sighed, his anger gone for a moment, it was not the child's fault, it was too much for only one boy. he looked out the open window, the carnevale chiaro was still in full swing, he looked around for a mask, it would not do to be picked out just because he did not look the part of the reveler. he fit it over his face and rushed downstairs and out into the festival crowd. he'd have to knock on a few doors tonight if he was to get the painting started before the damning dawn rose to seal his fate