05-16-2022, 02:30 PM
[div style="width: 48%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]Art? What the fuck was he, da Vinci? Sure, he had his profound (and perhaps surprising to others) appreciation for the arts, but he could not call himself an artist himself. Well, blacksmithing was an art form in and of itself, wasn't it? Maybe that was a stretch, but shit, if he was getting paid, he could do just about anything a customer demanded of him. Regardless, the harsh caws of an unfamiliar beast requesting his presence summoned the demon over to the source, glancing at the three-eyed crow curiously.
"That'll be me, birdbrain," Zjarr mused to the avian entity, his nose crinkling slightly at the sudden reek of rot that permeated from the other. Not all Pittians smelled as foul as this, though — that bounty hunter fellow he met had no particular smell apart from a very faint scent that he assumed belonged to The Pitt. Maybe this particular one just needed a nice, long bath. Whatever the case may be, he was not in the place to judge a potential customer, lest he lose vis business. "A'ight, I'll say this now: I ain't no Michelangelo, so I can't offer anythin' crazy huge. Now, smaller pieces, I'll work around 'em, they'll be more manageable. What're you thinkin' 'bout, exactly? Oh, I'll need a name for this, too, if you'd like to indulge me."
The husky now rested upon his haunches, patiently awaiting the crow's response. He had never been commissioned for an art piece before, but there was always a first time for everything, wasn't there? It wasn't as though he couldn't draw a stick figure to save his life — with Flamey in his head, he managed to pick up an affinity for sketching and some miniature sculpting, usually made with clay and other soft materials. Metal sculpting would be a whole other realm of experimentation, so he would use this order as an opportunity to dive into such a field. Practice made perfect.
"That'll be me, birdbrain," Zjarr mused to the avian entity, his nose crinkling slightly at the sudden reek of rot that permeated from the other. Not all Pittians smelled as foul as this, though — that bounty hunter fellow he met had no particular smell apart from a very faint scent that he assumed belonged to The Pitt. Maybe this particular one just needed a nice, long bath. Whatever the case may be, he was not in the place to judge a potential customer, lest he lose vis business. "A'ight, I'll say this now: I ain't no Michelangelo, so I can't offer anythin' crazy huge. Now, smaller pieces, I'll work around 'em, they'll be more manageable. What're you thinkin' 'bout, exactly? Oh, I'll need a name for this, too, if you'd like to indulge me."
The husky now rested upon his haunches, patiently awaiting the crow's response. He had never been commissioned for an art piece before, but there was always a first time for everything, wasn't there? It wasn't as though he couldn't draw a stick figure to save his life — with Flamey in his head, he managed to pick up an affinity for sketching and some miniature sculpting, usually made with clay and other soft materials. Metal sculpting would be a whole other realm of experimentation, so he would use this order as an opportunity to dive into such a field. Practice made perfect.
[glow=#f24b00,2,300]cold cold cold[/glow] — ☼
✰ — I'M JUST A SOUL WHOSE INTENTIONS ARE GOOD
zjarr ignibus / tanglewood / hellcat / weapons dealer / plot