Bastien
The sound of a whisper by the door drew Bastien's attention and he turned to look, seeing there a young woman with bright red hair and...some kind of puppet? Or perhaps a gourd she had carved to be a pretend friend. Though it was moving...regardless, he did not think he had met this woman before. With a smile he left his canvas, brush haphazardly tossed to the bottom leaving a mark (he liked those little accidental touches, blobs of colour that told more the story of the process than of the finished image), and walked over to the threshold of the door, nodding a greeting. "Ciao! Would you like to come in? I have a blank canvas and paints waiting for you, should you want to use them - or indeed clay too, or pens and paper for writing." He was well equipped for any medium, had made it a personal quest to be before he started off his guild.
Let's pick the truth that we believe in
like a bad religion
