Zavros was agreeable to being shown the studio - appropriately enough, really. He really did just kind of stand out like a pig in a dress at a high society party - he tried, he technically followed whatever rules for entry were there (for just having the strange mark on his head and the abilities that came with it), but everyone was going to notice that he was the one thing that didn't look like the others. And he hated that - he hated that a lot. He really, really wanted to be doing something that could help this motley group that he'd been dragged along with, but he...he wasn't a good speaker - he'd just proven that. He didn't have any way to smoothly approach the ladies, unlike Talion did. He wasn't the best fighter like Mouse or Kisara...<br/><br/>...but as he was brought to the studio, all of his worries seemed to fade away. This - this seemed more like it. Sure, it probably had been neglected and unused for years, maybe even decades or more - he doubted that any smith worth their salt had been in here in quite awhile. Yet he was more than happy to bring it back to life...and play to something he knew he was darned good at.<br/><br/>Turning to the god-blooded who brought him here, he asked, "so you've been 'round this block before...what's the big guy want?" He spread his arms out to emphasize. "An' I don't want you to be shy 'bout it. I wanna know - what does the big man want, and what d'you reckon he'd appreciate having as a gift?" If they were going to be here for any amount of time, it was probably a good idea to keep him on his good side...