An architect who finally gets his wish, is acknowledged as someone of importance, isn't shamed for his craft. Not a soul spoke badly of him besides a grand scribe, who sits away with his books and work. Who never leaves himself time to cook or take care of himself. In this off landish universe Alhaitham relies on our dear artist. In many more ways than one. Not allowing silly things in the way of his work, until they physically can't be ignored anymore and pull him away from his book entirely. A spilt cup of paint evenly sinks in and stains, leaving a permanent dash of color.