| Based on | Click to view |
| Artist | Strudel [gallery] |
| Time spent | 1 hour, 29 minutes |
| Drawing sessions | 4 |
| 8 people like this | Log in to vote for this drawing |
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[b][u]Items/accessories[/u][/b]: (You may draw or describe them)
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[url=http://www.chickensmoothie.com/Forum/viewtopic.php?f=53&t=3446116][img]http://www.chickensmoothie.com/oekaki/image/image.php?id=2818029&size=large&format=png&rev=1493702256[/img][/url]
Mutations:
|| Minor mane- Uncommon ||

Item Notes
The face mask is a muzzle: meant to restrict facial movement but he can still speak
The cuff around his neck is to prevent his escape- the chain links are longer than perceived in the picture, but not long enough for him to move more than a few meters
Blacksmith gauntlets are permanently sealed on his wrists- allows him to pick up live coals with bare paws and stick his paws into fire and lava for an indefinite amount of time
The belt and sash are his smithing outfit- the steel on the belt is perpetually hot steel
{100 words}
“So you're entirely sure he won't wake up if we just waltz into his forge?” Zwei-Ming peered at the eye markings on her tail as the irate spirit scowled with the mouth of the tail. If she didn't know any better, she would think the markings were glaring at her to further translate Zehn’s ire.
Zehn scoffed at what he knew to be baseless worries. “If he does wake up, it’s not like he’ll be able to go anywhere, Zwei,” the tail paused to rest its head between her shoulder blades and almost cracked a smile when Zwei winced as the feathers bent awkwardly under Zehn’s weight. “If it bothers you so much that he might wake up from his dozing, we can always come back in say, a thousand years or so…”
“Alright, fine.” Zwei rolled her eyes at Zehn’s comment, but her gaze was wary as she crept into the dark, dry room. Even by her heat-loving standards, this place was unbearable. With every step she could feel her paws growing numb, and the thin air made the embers in her armor dim ever so slightly. She had the wild urge to lick her paws despite her muzzle being covered.
The only light in the room burned dimly from the slow-burning furnace towering in the close quarters. Zwei looked to the side — well, there were the tongs they were looking for, still in pristine condition after all these years. And the barely moving body beside the tools.
The tight cuff and chain around his neck was little comfort to Zwei-Ming. Acid green eyes were thankfully hidden, but Zwei froze as she debated on how close she really wanted to get to that beast. Her back leg still twinged with phantom pain when she recalled the last time he got his claws into her.
His face, littered with tiny scars and burns was tethered closed with a suspiciously new-looking muzzle. Zwei wondered how recently he destroyed his last one to get a new one issued so quickly. She took one step, barely a brush against the ground, when one of his eyes cracked open.
Zwei felt her heart seize, and viciously beat back her desire to flee and schooled her expression into something carefully aloof. “Still a light sleeper, Memphis.”
He bared his teeth in a not-grin at the jab, but didn't make a move beyond that. “You're not very subtle, dearest.”
Zwei pointedly didn't flick her gaze over to the tongs. Even Zehn, with its snarky self, was wisely silent. Her eyes stayed trained on his one open orb as he spoke and idly tapped his claws against the stone ground. His claws sparked each time one struck the ground. “This can't simply be a mandated house visit, now can it? You want something, don't you? Something that I have…”
Zwei shuffled in place in faux idleness, but cursed inwardly as Memphis’ gaze remained stoutly focused on her. “Well, now, I wouldn't say that.” His grin only stretched wider.
“Oho, I think you would, dear. You wouldn’t happen to want back your tongs now, would you?” Memphis was met with silence, and his grin darkened even further. “You know I don’t particularly enjoy giving back gifts. And it’s such a nice gift, too…”
Zwei felt her anger spark at his condescending tone, and she impulsively bared her teeth at the unpredictable male. “You stole those tongs from me years ago, brute, it’s no wonder they put that chain back exactly where it belongs- strangling you for the rest of eternity!”
Memphis’ grin abruptly morphed into a sneer, and a snarl ripped through his chest. Zwei only saw him move at the last second, and jumped back just in time as the larger male struck out at her.
Her only saving grace was well-honed memory. She leapt back just enough to avoid wicked claws that whipped through the air right in front of her nose. The sound of him choking on the cuff was wet, and the clang of the magic-enforced chains echoed in the small chamber as he was roughly yanked back. Still, he strained against the chain.
His breathing was hoarse as he continued to rage at her. “And who put me here?! WHO PUT ME HERE?!”
Zwei met his crazed glare with equal fire, but her eyes were pinpricks of fear. And you know damn well you’re not going anywhere.











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