Behold! A Master at work!
See Campanella, dressed in a tatty old tracksuit and cheap sneakers. He has been cleaning - with mops; and buckets; and entire volumes of hand wipes. He had been working since breakfast; yet for all his effort the shared sanctum appeared no cleaner. Certainly, the kitchen area's now gleamed and the sideboard was a shiny, nice, colour again. Yet the floors remained as stained as ever. The cobwebs were gone from the main thoroughfares of the building - but the vast chambers once claimed by Star and the others remained delapidated as ever.
Campanella struggled with the large bucket, begrimed water and creamy foam sloshing over the rim as he tipped its contents down the drain. The befouled water gurgled and growled as it poured away, leaving whorls of stains behind. He didn't need the Sight to tell him that the liquid was almost caustic - a mix of dirt, soap, and bleach.
He misjudged how light the bucket had become and it slipped from his grasp, clanged on the floor.
Campanella, Moros of the Mysterium, cursed loudly but without much venom; he was too tired to burn the necessary energy.
The Theatre was large and empty. Someone had to try - at least - and maintain the place.
Saber Sloth Briar Rose