Gaetano Agostini


A 35 year old male born in the month of December; Milano, Italy

Languages: Italian and Latin

Bio: He comes from an unknown family with very little to his name except talent. Chance made him famous after being taken on as an apprentice to a very well known painter. His parents had the connections, and he the talent. Still, he was happy to follow along with his master’s plan until he started taken commissions himself. Since then, he’s risen in popularity almost exponentially. The more exposure his work gets, the more he is renown so that only the wealthiest patrons can commission him. However, in all the time that he’s been on his own, he has never taken an apprentice and he’s been a bachelor for 9 years now. The truth is, the world knows very little about their favorite master painter except that he is the ‘famous recluse’.

Parties, were the absolute worst. If not for the existence of wine, Gaetano wouldn't be able to stand it. Light streamed in through the windows of his small villa home. Groaning, he rolled over in the sheets, not caring that morning already neared its end. The world loved him too much, wanted too much from him, and he felt no need to give anything in return. Gaetano was just about to find a drink to ease his morning hangover when a knock sounded on his door. Grunting, his hand hit the table instead. "I'm awake! Speak your bit," he snapped, not even waiting for an introductory hello.

He got the introduction anyway. "Good morning, Maestro Agostini. Or what’s left of it anyway. If you are awake, you should get up already. There’s business to discuss,” the woman on the other side of the door nagged. Middle aged, hers was a voice that didn’t soothe well the aches in his head. Gaetano groaned again even though he expected this kind of treatment by now. How many years had it been? Twenty since the housekeeper became his constant companion and pain in the rear end? He didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. Dragging his robe about himself, he flung open the door to greet her, grumpy face and all.

“Did you have to knock?”

“Yes. Breakfast is ready and business, as I said.”

“Bah! Just get me a shot of something clear and tasteless or I’ll be biting back that party until tomorrow.”

The housekeeper hummed. “I don’t think a shot of water will be enough for you, but I’ll bring it up right away,” she added with a flash of grin before her face settled into its normal smudged, raw clay form. He imagined the sculpture just smushed the perfectly good face inward and created an old lady instead with only bright eyes to give her youth. The eyes would be a challenge, but he never felt inspired to take up that inspiration either.

“Forget it! Just tell them to bring out breakfast and get on with it!” Gaetano groaned. After one last look at his housekeeper, he spun away and down a flight of stairs to a large dining area below.

Breakfast was small, served without any pomp. He ate it over the pile of papers left by his ever so ‘kind’ housekeeper since he had no real hurry right now. If he could get away with it, he wouldn’t leave the house until work really began on his newest project. The sketches themselves would be easy considering they matched some of his recent works in a chapel now gaining notoriety. Scenes of creation and destruction—really, it was nothing special. Sighing, he revealed a letter buried in the middle of his stack. The unfamiliar handwriting drew his eye so he opened it up with a least a slight manner of haste. Inside, the letter revealed its purpose.

taaaaaabDear Maestro Gaetano Agostini,
I am responding in regards to the supplies and labor you have requested in association with the commission of St. Peters Cathedral. All that you have requested is in route already. However, I cannot afford to lend you any painters from my own studio so easily. As it turns out, I am in a predicament of my own. A fortnight ago, I received a request to take on an apprentice from a friend of mine. I have no time for another apprenticeship right now but I feel obligated to help the young painter so that I may fulfill my debt of friendship. If you were to take on this apprentice for me, I would be able to spare artists otherwise engaged. Since I doubt you have any other artists to ask favors from, I am expecting a warm welcome. I have sent the apprentice your address. He will arrive most likely a day after this letter. If the deal is set, I will make arrangements immediately.

Your friend and associate, Danilo


Gaetano groaned as he dragged a hand through his short dark hair. An apprentice? Danilo would pay for this deal, but if he wanted to complete his commission to the church, he didn’t have much choice. Smiling wryly, he went back to his breakfast with only one thought in mind. This apprentice had no idea what they just landed.