The smell of antiseptic and disinfectants wafts through the air of the Ring's long gallery hallway. It is rather spacious than most other houses. Of course, you need a lot of space if you want to show your art to people, but become too big, they'll disregard the art completely because of how far away it is. Such a bother as it is always when trying to find balance. As you pass by, there are multiple grotesque statues made of human flesh and bone standing on displays. Of course, these masterpieces are made by you, the Maestro of Corporism, which is also the Nursefather of a certain apprentice. Now that you remember... You noticed that she hasn't attended your class. Strange. She was always happy and eager to enter your class, being flawless in such classes in being present and doing her work. Has something changed perhaps? A new view on art, a revelation, or simply boredom?
Your hand slowly turned the oval door handle, revealing a neat room with a small bed on the corner, which, for some reason, has the covers and mattress placed onto the ground.
...
Ah. There she is; holding her sword, carefully implanting each strand of muscle and tendon to the red sword. She is so careful in fact, as if she was painting the small unnoticeable details that are seen in some paints. One wrong move and the whole canvas is broken, forever gone. She has learnt well in your classes. That's good to know.
Her reaction time was late and slow, turning her head towards you before standing up and bowing perfectly fifteen degrees before sitting down to tend to her sword. "I am so close to perfecting Fascia, Maestro. Yet so far at the same time. I wonder why that is, making things difficult for me? Fascia deserves perfection, and why do they have to make it difficult?" It's hard to tell whether she's talking to herself or asking genuine advice from you. "Maestro, is it simply because I lack the skill or creativity to make such a feat?"
