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rubyrubyrubyThe harbor is large, sheltered and with deep draft, well suited to a
maritime kingdom such as Amber. The inner docks can accomodate the
largest of vessels and do so, making for efficient longshoring and
draying operations for merchant ships, and rapid resupply and
refitting for Amber's navy. Past the commercial and naval piers, a
long quay extends far into the harbor for the benefit of smaller
craft, a panoply of small pleasure boats, explorer caravels and
everything in between. Chandleries, husbandries and other marine
services have small offices here, typically in structures built onto
the docks themselves.
To say the engineer is inconspicuous is a lie. Despite his small height, the fact that he's standing on top of a massive steam shovel, involved in clearing debris into railway carts, whilst smoking a massive cigar would probably draw even the dullest of eyes.
Ruby stalks into the area. Fresh from some forge work, she's wearing a set of leather accoutrements that are a plain brown and provide some protection and modesty to her chest and from waist to knees. Hair tied back and some poorly maintained goggles helping to keep errant strands of hair out of her face, she meanders through some gawkers and rubberneckers. The sounds of the demolition and the big mechanism have drawn her attention more than once. The steam shovel has her eyeing it like it was some manner of dreadful creature. Hefting a sledge, she moves up a bit closer. Wary, but posturing like she has not a care in the world. Mismatched eyes glare up towards the short bloke puffing away.
Hywel glances down, "If you stay there, you risk being squashed by fifty tons of steel, lass!" He's ditched the jacket, but not the waistcoat, or tie, or hat, because, you know... standards. "The next truck will be there in a minute or so."
Ruby frowns and looks about her. Not sure of where the threat may suddenly appear, but it seems the fellow means to have her avoid getting flattened. She grimaces and steps to the left and right, the grip on her hammer tightening. "Whats this then? You responsible for all this noise'n steam'n whatevah tha 'ell that bloody big monstah you standin on? You look like you be tha bloke'n charge. An you can call me Robert if it isn't so. So call me Rubah."
Hywel puffs on his cigar, "Responsible? Well, that'd be the King." Another puff, "Course, he wouldn't know a flange nut from a pressure valve, so it's me who does the actual work." Him, and a few dozen workers, admittedly, "Master Hywel Chantris Jones. Royal Architect."
Ruby mouths the words 'Royal Architect' silently and eyes Hywel skeptically. The corner of her mouth quirks up and she approaches the base of the steam shovel. "Aye...tha's tha way 'o Kings or othah fancy folk. Don't know their own nuts fr...Aye, whatsits. But tha besides tha point!" She grinds her teeth and tries to get all up in the Began constructs face. Like some sort of dog that thinks there's cause to start barking and growling at another mongrel. "Gits a lot 'o work done does it? Honest work? Strong is it?"
Hywel gives a faint chuckle, "Oh... about the work of a couple of hundred labouring men, who are freed to do something that needs a craftsman instead. And it doesn't get killed if something goes amiss. Just needs a bit of steel replaced. Aye. Do you see this harm being replaced as fast, if at all without steam and railways?"
Ruby blinks and her lips part. Apparently she seems to have trouble believing such boasts. If anything, what she hears seems to give her more cause for worry than not. "It don't git killed. Aye...Not alive. Not dead either, cause it never been, roight?" She sniffs and flexes. "It ain't natural. Truth. Don't know nothin aboot't. Just know it can't be all tha grand. There gots tah be somethin it can't do, aye?" she rambles and rambles. "Aye-bomby-nation, aye? An I ain't found nuthin strongah than meself. Nuthin livin. Yet." She glares meaningfully at the Steam Shovel despite the fact it can't glare back. "Think yer steel bettah than bone'n meat?"
Hywel gestures to the sledge in her hands, "It's no less natural than that. Mankind makes machines. Mine are just better than most, lass. And it's better at what it's made for. Can't do everything you can do. That's why it's a machine, and not a man."
Ruby directs her attention to her hammer and rotates it against her shoulder. All this reasoning is playing havock with her blustering and badgering. "I dun't believe tha fer'ah second!" she blurts and sends some spittle flying. "If it was'ah man...I'd give't an elbow an challenge it to'ah brawl! Me 'ammer not some metal dragon huff'n an puff'n. I say it ain't natural an say I could beat't." she looks to the shovel and finds her brain butting up against the mighty steel for a reason and a how to somehow throw herself against it. "I kin beat't...It's strong, roight? I kin beat't..." Sounding more desperate. "Let me show ya."
Merrisol comes here from the direction of the Main Concourse and Royal Way - Amber City.
Hywel sniffs, "Aye. You can beat it." The machine keeps working. Shovelling debris after debris into the great railway carts beside it. "Get a shovel and start filling."
Currently making challenging postures at a Begman Steam Shovel, Ruby stands beside the contruct and the figure of Hywel who is smoking a cigar atop it. A few folk have gathered to watch the demolition of wreckage, which now includes the discourse between Master Hywel and the Ruby adorned in forge attire.
The large woman eyes the shovel as it efficiently does its duty. "I could!" she sputters. "Where the challenge be in fill'n a 'ole?" she swings the head of the hammer to the ground. "Nah...Make't bettah. Make't come at me. Aye...Or see who be tha bettah wreck'ah, aye? C'mon...show me 'ow strong it be. Give you'ah chance tah show yer craft. You proud 'o this stoof. Show't oof."
The massive steel arm casually shifts around to crunch one of the few standing walls (post Tsunami) over, and then starts to shovel it up. "Oh, not filling holes. Filling trucks. Then pulling trucks to the waste dump. In due course I'll make something to sort out the rubbish into what's useable, and what will have to be got rid of. But that's a task for another day, aye?" Hywel grins down at the woman, "So, get wrecking and shovelling, and hauling, lass."
Ruby looks a tad disappointed there will be no grappling. Apart from her hammer of course. She casts another look over towards the railcars and feels the rumble and vibration of whatever moves the steam mechanism to and fro. "I dun't take no orders frum yer royalty!" she says sourly. But she certainly doesn't slink off. No sir. She lifts the hammer up, releasing and then tightening the grip until she's got it halfway up the handle and sprints haphazardly towards where the shovel is making short work of some of the damaged architecture. She pants, taking some rubble with steps that become unsteady when debris slides and shifts. She's yammering out something in a cussy sort of language. "I wreck bettah than any bloody bloke, femme'r never-been!" Approaching a likely looking victim of her sledge, she brings it up in a high swing.
Merrisol comes into view down the street, semi-idly following the railway as though he'd been on his way somewhere else before the stapled oddities caused a surprise detour in his steps. He looks up ahead and regards first the rubble-making and -gouging steam shovel and its mini-me smoke stack, then Ruby with her forge sweat-clothes and... no, that's not a forge hammer. It takes a few moments to figure out what's going on with that.. and then just as he does, Ruby confirms with her braying wind-up against a standing structure of brick and mortar. "Oh Ruby..." he mutters in combined bemusement and alarm, and breaks into a jog.
Hywel settles into place, watching, then lets out a puff of smoke, "Aye. You need a shovel too? I'd offer a head start, but this Lower City is not going to rebuild itself if we pause."
Ruby attacks the structure at a loping stride. Not having a clear path stunts the full-on gallop, but adds to the exhuberance of her swooping arc. The head of her hammer connects with a meaty stanchion or bit of mortar and gives a satisfying explosion of dust and fragmentary stone. The large woman is pelted with bits and pieces as she moves almost completely inside the structure. Another bellow. "Fook 'eadstarts!" the acoustics throw her voice about. Two-handed grip, she does a quick about-face and swings in the opposite direction to pulverize where ceiling and wall meet. "Rebuild this!" Roar. She's through the wall and barrelling about like a mad woman, sending the hammer in wild whooping swoops.
Merrisol chuffs out his own billows of vapour in the wintery air, bounding over the rails while the coast is clear. He deccelerates to an amble as he gets within the ring of bystanders around the demolition spectacle, then squares off a bit on Ruby's side, if only so he can maintain a good viewing angle on the Begman-Chantris atop the automaton. "Good point, why /isn't/ the city rebuilding itself? Did the workforce get washed out to Sea, Master Jones?" he calls out. Just then, Ruby crashes into her inert target, and Merrisol sidesteps and raises an arm so flying bits of brick bounce off his thick coat sleeve. "Lir's Gears, Ruby.. what is this..?" he coughs, the question most likely lost in the next barrage.
Hywel looks over towards Merrisol, and grins, "Can't get a decent bricklayer in the lower city! We're rebuilding in brick and stone.... and with water and sewerage! Have you not seen the streets already built?" He's looking highly amused at the handicrafts, "You missed a bit."
Ruby bludgeons her way along, laying about herself in arcs of destruction, bringing down ceilings almost on top of her head if she stopped moving. She shakes her head like a taunted bull and does a few leaps to clear fallen beams that threaten to trip her up. Her stride is interrupted however, and she hip-checks the soggy weather-beaten remains of a broad table. She sends a few oaths to gods high and low and swings her hammer up through the sill of a empty window, smashing it out and her body follows suit, emerging next to the damaged structure. Quite a bit dustier, she heaves her chest like bellows and peers over with a wide feral grin to where she /thinks/ she started. She zeros back in on Hywel and then notes Merrisol. "I'll crush this 'hole bloody neighbor'ood." she promises with a gleam in one of her eyes. She hefts her massive hammer again and prepares to head back into the fray.
Raphaela comes here from the direction of the Queen Street and Sceptre Way - Amber City.
Hywel remains smoking cheerfully on top of the steam shovel, which is in the process of demolishing the remains of the old ruined lower city. All? No, for Ruby appears to be in the process of assisting, whilst Hywel offers helpful commentary, "You missed the rest of that wall."
Huh! "Who's -WE-?" Merrsiol squints up from under his shielding wrist, but the air in his vicinity is rapidly gone hazy with mortar dust and spitting gravel chips. He switches his view to Ruby on ground level, working her way through the ruined shell of a residence, mighty sledgehammer a-swinging at all standing structures within her long reach. "Should've let her deck a Triton.." he mumbles, but gives her a well-exaggerated double-thumbs-up. Then more chunks of wood and brick rain down at him, and he's retreating to the safe-ish perimeter where most of the witnesses are gathered.
A railway track runs from the demolition site off to a yard, the hitched trailers filling up with rubble as Hywel's creation both crushes and shovels with steam-powered efficiency. It only takes a bit of watching and listening to the shouts lobbed between Artificer and Smith to realize she is not assisting the project but *challenging* the might of the machine with that of her own muscles. Soon enough, with every thunderous cave-in, the spectators raise a brief cheer, attracting more passerby from other condemned sidestreets.
Dirk comes here from the direction of the Queen Street and Sceptre Way - Amber City.
Hywel is puffing away at his cigar. After a while, he digs around in his jacket, which sits on the top of the steamshovel next to him, and pulls out some architectural plans, "A bit to your left. That bit needs to be flattened out. And watch out. There should be a big sewerpipe near..."
Dirk is walking down near the docks sticking out like a goth sore thumb.
Raphaela has a armfull of folders in her arms as she walks towards the commotion of the demolishing site, sticking to safe out of puff spots. She headtilts. Not exactly a sore thumb. She visits docks a lot and apparently feels cozy here.
Dirk yawns as he stops to watch the machinations of the machine and man.
Raphaela looks to her side and is not at all suprised to see Dirk there. "Oy."
Ruby licks at her lips, slurping up some dusty sooty goodness. The large woman's answer to what amounts to 'you missed a spot' has her working her tongue about to collect grit into a loogie, sending it towards the closest railcar. She wrinkles her nose and leverages the maul up and points it towards the shovel, a display of bravado. Jabbing the considerable weight in the direction of the busy engine of progress. "Tha's just fer'ah start! Nuthin beats blood'n bone!" she wargarbles and hops backwards and then forwards, using the momentum to start the ugly hammer in another revolution about her body. She seems to be in her own little world, or psyching herself up like some braying prizefighter without a ring. "Always comes back tah blood'n gristle!" And a bloody big sledgehammer. With a huge swing she turns and disembowls the nearest wall, moving inside again with the followup arc, her legs smashing past wood and brick.
Raphaela oohs and shuffles folders so she can applaud.
Dirk says "hey Ralph of my dreams how is it going?"
RPG: Ruby declares that she owns this token:
Title: Da Bonk
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Created via Magic-Hardened Blade (REC-MB)
A large war hammer of immense size and weight. It is an ugly and brutish tool. A cross between a pole arm and a maul. There are no delicate engravings, artful accents or decorations of any kind. It is bereft of colour, comprised of cold grey steel and the sooty black leather wrappings that wind along the hilt. The face of the hammer is full of closely packed pyramidal wedges, like a giant tenderizer. Opposite this is a relatively smaller hunk of steel that tapers into two giant teeth or cogs. They resemble incisor-like shapes that are focused enough to pierce with the application of enough force. At the bottom of the six foot handle is a smaller cap of metal that acts as a slight counterbalance.
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RPG: Hywel declares that he owns this token:
Title: Steam Shovel/Crane
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Created via Begman Artificer (BEG-AR)
A huge mechanical digger and crane, driven by steam, and moving on tracked wheels, this creation of SCIENCE is solidly working at clearing the ruins in the lower city, particularly with a view to getting the docks fully operational again.
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Merrisol holds his breath as a wall folds inwards with the force of the woman's swing. The concern in his expression speaks of a desperate urge to fashion a regulation construction hat and rush in to plant it upon Ruby's crazy noggin. But it seems there's no getting close to the woman at the moment, for fear of either breaking her stride and/or getting brokened by her.
The technophiles in the crowd jeer at Ruby's wild efforts as the mean machine methodically works its way through its targeted structure, cleaning up after itself. But other Lower City residents appear to be rallying to the forge-mistress's great yawps, answering her bravado and destructive passion with an encouraging roar.
As Ruby is lost in another toppling cave-in, only to emerge from the roiling dust clouds still swinging, Merrisol shakes his head then has to give in to a loud laugh that tosses his head back. "Get it done, Ruby!!" he hollers. "BLOOD and BONE!"
Raphaela sighs "Machines of course are the way to go, but nothing stirrs emotion like effort alas." she shouts, then "YOU are doing it all wrong." she points at Ruby and tells to Dirk and other nearbystanders finger to chin "They should suit her up IN a machine. That woman combined with mecha would be...AWESOME."
Hywel puffs at his cigar. Yep. The little man is looking smug. Not least, because, well, someone is actually using powers to help out, at last, with the rebuilding.
Ruby can't be flinging herself wilding through what the tsunami left behind without encountering all those sharp and splinter filled jagged bits. When she re-emerges covered in a lighter all-over tint, she coughs out a lungful of particulate. She staggers, trying to slow her progress and not waste all the adrenaline that's pumping through her body. She's trying to tackle all those structures and formidable looking parts that the Steam shovel has not gotten to yet, because it reduces things down so well and leaves nothing for the crazed amazonian to do anything to. And she hasn't even tried to transport the rubble into any of the railcars yet. She pivots, the weigh of her sledge helping a little too eagerly to assist her. Cuts and a slices in her skin bleed through her covering of dust, soaking and matting the grit. Another example of flesh versus steel. Perhaps a helmet would have been appropriate. Lowering her head, her gritted teeth like a pearly-white radiator, she charges back, rushing ahead of the Shovel if she can, leaping and bounding before swinging her over-long mallet in a one-handed strike before carrying it over her shoulder in a diagonal arc for another wall-bashing crash and following it inside to murder the interior.
Dirk yells " go go!"
Amidst the people shouting: "Blood and Bone!" and then "Ruby.. SMASH!!" as her given name circulates, Merrisol hears Raphaela's voice and cranes back to catch sight of the Baroness and listen. "Exactly!" he points to her, "Equip the People! Train and educate, don't replace them!" She'd only been talking about Ruby-powered Mecha, of course. But Merri, he's such a good listener! This is totally what he heard. "Power the People!" He turns back to look for Ruby, but she's no longer sticking to the visible edges of the demolition site. Concern rises anew, while he moves in closer to catch a glimpse. Just follow the broken brick road?
Raphaela ponders "I'd love to watch her in battle. It would rain blood, I reckon." bystanders eye the gentle baronesse and take a step back from her sparkling enthusiasm. She ohs "Or a chainsaw. THat would be neat." she blinksa s Merri's shout awakes her from miscelanous sordid contemplations. She arches a brow. Yeah yeah, whatever, revolutionary. She then shouts "A round of beer on Sorgo in filltheblankname(someone will owe me a favor) tavern for every structure crushed AND removed by the end of the day!"
Hywel puffs away, "Free the People!" He puffs out a cloud of smoke, "No MORE need people slave away at things which do not require a man!" He stands, a little unsteadily on the moving roof. "No MORE need people work their fingers to the bone and achieve nothing! With the Power of SCIENCE we may let you work less, and achieve MORE!" He reaches down, and puts on his jacket, "For in these houses which rise, there will be running water for ALL! Safe, clean, and hygienic Sanitation, for ALL! These are not, my Brothers and Sisters, mere aspirations! These are RIGHTS for the working Man! Aye, and woman too!"
Raphaela offered BEER! Eff the running water, she knows what flows as blood on the docks! This is a true test of men here! Ruby's way, Hywy's way, or they can be heros cooperate and everyone gets a free beer. DIPLOMAT's WAY!
Dirk tickles Ralph.
Raphaela does not allow people tickle her randomly in public. Her bodyguard looms over Dirk all grumpy all of the sudden. He knows Dirk bt he's ready to protect reputation of Baroness.
Ruby's initial presence can be heard easier than seen, apart from when she passes in front of a caved-in bit of wall. Thunks. Crashes. Smashes. Curses. These challenge the larger sounds of the Steam Shovel as it inexorably does what it was designed to do. The large woman comes out the other side and shakes herself, hair whipping about as she strains to hear the raised voices sounding out from their particular positions. Hard to make some of it, the blood pounding in her ears like skin-lined drums in the deep. Her forearm comes up to swipe vigorously at her eyes and nose. Rapid blinks and another assessment of what she's managed to accomplish and what she can set herself on next. "Bloody thing..." she snarls as the machine cares not and simply continues on and on. She coughs out another wad of mucous and makes her way along the outside of a wall, laying into it like it said something bad about her Nan.
Hywel sways atop the working engine, "Your King has ordered these things... aye, and paid for them too.... and set a genius to build them. But NEVER forget these are things you are entitled to! The dignity of the working man must NEVER be undermined!" A beat's pause, "Uh.... Mistress?" He yells over towards Ruby, "On the subject of undermining you're _right_ over the sewer downflow....."
Some people from the crowd shout out, "With what money if the jobs are scooped up?!" Conflicting opinions on making things hyper-efficient cry out. "Free to starve on our arses when one machine will do the work of many?" "What about the dignity of an honest days work?"
Hywel says, "My comrades, it's not the way in Begma! Machines make things cheaper, so all may afford it. People make machines. People direct machines. This is not to steal bread from your mouths, but to put it there! Clean milled bread. Less grit in it."
Dirk listens quietly so not to draw attention to himself as a shadow walking weirdo.
Ruby stampedes along, ignorant of such things like the location of sewer downflows and pipes. Probably filled with all manner of horrible and yucky stuff. The smell would probably tip her off if she wasn't so focused on trying to compete. Smash. Stamp stamp stamp. Her hammer drags along, catching and pulling at joice and rivet, post and pillar. Lumbering like a rhino with the scent of a another in it's nostrils, she trudges and continues to bludgeon away right overtop the helpfully pointed out 'bad place'.
Raphaela's eyes narrow on Hywel, "Ah. We all might want to step back." she pads away to an estimated safe spot, she whistles "I do hope those machines can stand the extreme enviroments and corrosion..."
Raph should know, sewage so low is mixing with salt of the sea... salt and machines... lovely. Yay Salts.
The machines, it should be noted, are not where Ruby is. Rather they are reaching over to claw and scoop at things, before bringing the rubble back to railway carts, to be moved away. There's a big spoil heap at one end of the Lower City, and at the other, the regimented ordered rows of brick houses have risen.
Dirk smiles " well if she falls it that's gonna stink for her." Dirk follows Ralph to safety. yay keen senses!
Oh oh. Someone is underestimating the flow of stench reaching docks from up above, oy. Do not underestimate how much of bs can UPPERS dump on Lowers. It's a matter of ballads.
The pressure, the sheer pressure...Geysir? Whassitspelled? It should be epic! If it's not. Aw.
Whump! If it wasn't directly struck with the hammer, her stompy feet certainly helped precipitate matters. The sound of metal giving way under her feet, the cringe-inducing, shrieking sound of chirping metal separating from rusty hinges and bolts. It certainly /looks/ painful when she suddenly lurches forward and one leg descends into the dank darkness while the other remains topside. Her eyes bulge and arms windmill before lurching forward. Both hands clasp onto the handle for all she's worth. With the hammer across the top of the violated storm drain as a brace, she hangs there. Her first words are cast downwards into the foul smelling drain, and have an echoing quality. "Bawls!"
Hywel lets out a little groan, "I warned her. Everyone heard me warn her." He starts climbing down from the roof of the steamshovel, hammering on the cab, "Going to need the crane line...."
Dirk is busy plugging his nose. NO help there.
Raphaela doesn't even wrinkle her nose. Oh the stylish. Who had sense of retreating up the wind...
Merrisol is somewhere around the site, wading through the puffing plumes of dust in search of his headstrong friend. Of course, following her trail of destruction out through the other side of the building lets him know she's come out all right. Right? RIGHT?
Hywel takes the end of the crane cable, and ties a rope to it, which he starts to pay out, as he advances in the direction of vanishment, "Aye.... are you alright in there?"
Ruby kicks against the side of slick sewer pipe. Her face contorts into an assortment of grimaces as the smells of sewer play havoc with her olfactory senses. These grunts and curses echo out hollowly, perhaps a bit comically, from where she considers her options. Narrowing her eyes and allowing herself a moment to simmer towards a boil, Ruby tightens her hands against the haft of the hammer until her knuckles pop. Using her prodigious strength, she sets her face into a mask of effort and very slowly pulls herself up so that her head and shoulders become visible, muscles and veins standing out in freakish definition. Merrisol will probably see her rising from the tomb of smells like some very unhappy gal. And Hywel too for that matter.
Merrisol pauses in the swirling drifts of particulate, scarf over his nose and one arm up to wave away clouds from his eyes. Somewhere nearby, the pleasant hollow basso sounds of the sousaphone. At least, it /sounds/ as if there is a polka band playing within a large tin can. He walks several paces towards it, then jumps back from the slowly figure rising from the big drainage pipe. Up zips his glance to see Hywel peering down from a derrick with his fishing cable. "Oh, Ruby!" A reprisal of his entrance exclamation, and he's jumped forth to hunker down and offer Ruby a hand out of the sewer pipe before it belches at her or something. Sewers are rude that way.
Hywel works his way closer, with the rope, which, whilst holding onto, in case anything shifts unexpectedly, he dangles down towards Ruby, "Here y'are, Lass."
Ruby spares some effort to glare towards those close enough to have an eyeball on her. Scissoring her legs in quick swiping motions to help cheat her higher a few inches. "Anybody laughs...they get caved in." Like a sewer grating. The offered rope is treated as if it were coated in...sewage. "Git tha thing away from me! I ain't no bloody carp!" Ooooh, bursting with self-reliance and pride like an overflowing sewer pipe. She bares her teeth at it while she urges her body to focus on but one task. Get out of this big hole. Her hammer shifts while she redistributes her weight, making more protesting metallic nails-on-chalkboard sounds. Merrisol's offered hand is looked at more favorably. But she's committed to salvaging herself. "Bog's bloody sunken balls. Blokes...line'n oop tah 'elp a...lass. Save mah...save mah..." Mocking the situation and herself. Gritting her teeth hard enough to seriously risk a trip to the dentist, she heaves herself with a howl and manages to lurch up and pull a leg up over the edge. "I just need'ah min-oot...Still stoof tah smack. Very hard.
Hywel gives a little shrug, and retreats, coiling back up the rope as he goes, to resume his rebuilding of the lower city in a GRAND DESIGN, informed by the precepts of SCIENCE, powered by the majesty of ENGINEERING, and enlivened by the principles of HYGIENIC LIVING! So there!
Dirk stares at ruby. "is she Gerard spawn?"
Merrisol scoots back to give the self-help maiden some room, and waits on his haunches a few moments before he levers to his feet and looks up to see Hywel going back to standing tall atop the product of his genius. "He's not but a little man standing on the shoulders of giants," he observes, perhaps referring to more than the literal sight of the the automaton boosting Hywel's stature. He looks around carefully, then turns a bit to regard Ruby again, observing her powder-coated bruises and cuts, and somewhat amazed she is also getting right back into things.
"Looks like you've got more competition," he tells her, with a gesture around to the small groups of citizens coming over with their own hammers and prybars and work gloves, possibly in response to Ruby's inspiring demonstration of pure grit and the joys of peak physical power.. possibly in response to Merrisol's call for people to take back their work from the machines that made their skills pointless.. possibly in response to Raphaela's standing offer to buy rounds for demo'd and cleared lots.. or possibly.. in response to Hywel's.. erm.. naw. It's gotta be the beer.
Dirk sings a song of beer a six pack mixed with rye. two and twenty citizens drank hywel dry.
Ruby gets to hands and knees, the smell of Amber's underside still fresh in her nostrils. "Wish it was a bloody giant. Sumpthin with'ah face..." she settles backwards, rocking on the heels of her feet while she drags her sledge closer to her. Once Hywel has retreated and clambered up on his soapbox of steam and metal, she slowly raises to her full height again, stepping back from the sewer. The large woman casts her gaze over the assortment of voluntary labour.
Ruby says, "Aye. Watch 'oot fer them stink-pits. Strange 'ow they just laying a-boot. Like them whatsits...traps. Like an ambush. Bloody metal. Bang't intah shape...It let you down at tha worst times."
maritime kingdom such as Amber. The inner docks can accomodate the
largest of vessels and do so, making for efficient longshoring and
draying operations for merchant ships, and rapid resupply and
refitting for Amber's navy. Past the commercial and naval piers, a
long quay extends far into the harbor for the benefit of smaller
craft, a panoply of small pleasure boats, explorer caravels and
everything in between. Chandleries, husbandries and other marine
services have small offices here, typically in structures built onto
the docks themselves.
To say the engineer is inconspicuous is a lie. Despite his small height, the fact that he's standing on top of a massive steam shovel, involved in clearing debris into railway carts, whilst smoking a massive cigar would probably draw even the dullest of eyes.
Ruby stalks into the area. Fresh from some forge work, she's wearing a set of leather accoutrements that are a plain brown and provide some protection and modesty to her chest and from waist to knees. Hair tied back and some poorly maintained goggles helping to keep errant strands of hair out of her face, she meanders through some gawkers and rubberneckers. The sounds of the demolition and the big mechanism have drawn her attention more than once. The steam shovel has her eyeing it like it was some manner of dreadful creature. Hefting a sledge, she moves up a bit closer. Wary, but posturing like she has not a care in the world. Mismatched eyes glare up towards the short bloke puffing away.
Hywel glances down, "If you stay there, you risk being squashed by fifty tons of steel, lass!" He's ditched the jacket, but not the waistcoat, or tie, or hat, because, you know... standards. "The next truck will be there in a minute or so."
Ruby frowns and looks about her. Not sure of where the threat may suddenly appear, but it seems the fellow means to have her avoid getting flattened. She grimaces and steps to the left and right, the grip on her hammer tightening. "Whats this then? You responsible for all this noise'n steam'n whatevah tha 'ell that bloody big monstah you standin on? You look like you be tha bloke'n charge. An you can call me Robert if it isn't so. So call me Rubah."
Hywel puffs on his cigar, "Responsible? Well, that'd be the King." Another puff, "Course, he wouldn't know a flange nut from a pressure valve, so it's me who does the actual work." Him, and a few dozen workers, admittedly, "Master Hywel Chantris Jones. Royal Architect."
Ruby mouths the words 'Royal Architect' silently and eyes Hywel skeptically. The corner of her mouth quirks up and she approaches the base of the steam shovel. "Aye...tha's tha way 'o Kings or othah fancy folk. Don't know their own nuts fr...Aye, whatsits. But tha besides tha point!" She grinds her teeth and tries to get all up in the Began constructs face. Like some sort of dog that thinks there's cause to start barking and growling at another mongrel. "Gits a lot 'o work done does it? Honest work? Strong is it?"
Hywel gives a faint chuckle, "Oh... about the work of a couple of hundred labouring men, who are freed to do something that needs a craftsman instead. And it doesn't get killed if something goes amiss. Just needs a bit of steel replaced. Aye. Do you see this harm being replaced as fast, if at all without steam and railways?"
Ruby blinks and her lips part. Apparently she seems to have trouble believing such boasts. If anything, what she hears seems to give her more cause for worry than not. "It don't git killed. Aye...Not alive. Not dead either, cause it never been, roight?" She sniffs and flexes. "It ain't natural. Truth. Don't know nothin aboot't. Just know it can't be all tha grand. There gots tah be somethin it can't do, aye?" she rambles and rambles. "Aye-bomby-nation, aye? An I ain't found nuthin strongah than meself. Nuthin livin. Yet." She glares meaningfully at the Steam Shovel despite the fact it can't glare back. "Think yer steel bettah than bone'n meat?"
Hywel gestures to the sledge in her hands, "It's no less natural than that. Mankind makes machines. Mine are just better than most, lass. And it's better at what it's made for. Can't do everything you can do. That's why it's a machine, and not a man."
Ruby directs her attention to her hammer and rotates it against her shoulder. All this reasoning is playing havock with her blustering and badgering. "I dun't believe tha fer'ah second!" she blurts and sends some spittle flying. "If it was'ah man...I'd give't an elbow an challenge it to'ah brawl! Me 'ammer not some metal dragon huff'n an puff'n. I say it ain't natural an say I could beat't." she looks to the shovel and finds her brain butting up against the mighty steel for a reason and a how to somehow throw herself against it. "I kin beat't...It's strong, roight? I kin beat't..." Sounding more desperate. "Let me show ya."
Merrisol comes here from the direction of the Main Concourse and Royal Way - Amber City.
Hywel sniffs, "Aye. You can beat it." The machine keeps working. Shovelling debris after debris into the great railway carts beside it. "Get a shovel and start filling."
Currently making challenging postures at a Begman Steam Shovel, Ruby stands beside the contruct and the figure of Hywel who is smoking a cigar atop it. A few folk have gathered to watch the demolition of wreckage, which now includes the discourse between Master Hywel and the Ruby adorned in forge attire.
The large woman eyes the shovel as it efficiently does its duty. "I could!" she sputters. "Where the challenge be in fill'n a 'ole?" she swings the head of the hammer to the ground. "Nah...Make't bettah. Make't come at me. Aye...Or see who be tha bettah wreck'ah, aye? C'mon...show me 'ow strong it be. Give you'ah chance tah show yer craft. You proud 'o this stoof. Show't oof."
The massive steel arm casually shifts around to crunch one of the few standing walls (post Tsunami) over, and then starts to shovel it up. "Oh, not filling holes. Filling trucks. Then pulling trucks to the waste dump. In due course I'll make something to sort out the rubbish into what's useable, and what will have to be got rid of. But that's a task for another day, aye?" Hywel grins down at the woman, "So, get wrecking and shovelling, and hauling, lass."
Ruby looks a tad disappointed there will be no grappling. Apart from her hammer of course. She casts another look over towards the railcars and feels the rumble and vibration of whatever moves the steam mechanism to and fro. "I dun't take no orders frum yer royalty!" she says sourly. But she certainly doesn't slink off. No sir. She lifts the hammer up, releasing and then tightening the grip until she's got it halfway up the handle and sprints haphazardly towards where the shovel is making short work of some of the damaged architecture. She pants, taking some rubble with steps that become unsteady when debris slides and shifts. She's yammering out something in a cussy sort of language. "I wreck bettah than any bloody bloke, femme'r never-been!" Approaching a likely looking victim of her sledge, she brings it up in a high swing.
Merrisol comes into view down the street, semi-idly following the railway as though he'd been on his way somewhere else before the stapled oddities caused a surprise detour in his steps. He looks up ahead and regards first the rubble-making and -gouging steam shovel and its mini-me smoke stack, then Ruby with her forge sweat-clothes and... no, that's not a forge hammer. It takes a few moments to figure out what's going on with that.. and then just as he does, Ruby confirms with her braying wind-up against a standing structure of brick and mortar. "Oh Ruby..." he mutters in combined bemusement and alarm, and breaks into a jog.
Hywel settles into place, watching, then lets out a puff of smoke, "Aye. You need a shovel too? I'd offer a head start, but this Lower City is not going to rebuild itself if we pause."
Ruby attacks the structure at a loping stride. Not having a clear path stunts the full-on gallop, but adds to the exhuberance of her swooping arc. The head of her hammer connects with a meaty stanchion or bit of mortar and gives a satisfying explosion of dust and fragmentary stone. The large woman is pelted with bits and pieces as she moves almost completely inside the structure. Another bellow. "Fook 'eadstarts!" the acoustics throw her voice about. Two-handed grip, she does a quick about-face and swings in the opposite direction to pulverize where ceiling and wall meet. "Rebuild this!" Roar. She's through the wall and barrelling about like a mad woman, sending the hammer in wild whooping swoops.
Merrisol chuffs out his own billows of vapour in the wintery air, bounding over the rails while the coast is clear. He deccelerates to an amble as he gets within the ring of bystanders around the demolition spectacle, then squares off a bit on Ruby's side, if only so he can maintain a good viewing angle on the Begman-Chantris atop the automaton. "Good point, why /isn't/ the city rebuilding itself? Did the workforce get washed out to Sea, Master Jones?" he calls out. Just then, Ruby crashes into her inert target, and Merrisol sidesteps and raises an arm so flying bits of brick bounce off his thick coat sleeve. "Lir's Gears, Ruby.. what is this..?" he coughs, the question most likely lost in the next barrage.
Hywel looks over towards Merrisol, and grins, "Can't get a decent bricklayer in the lower city! We're rebuilding in brick and stone.... and with water and sewerage! Have you not seen the streets already built?" He's looking highly amused at the handicrafts, "You missed a bit."
Ruby bludgeons her way along, laying about herself in arcs of destruction, bringing down ceilings almost on top of her head if she stopped moving. She shakes her head like a taunted bull and does a few leaps to clear fallen beams that threaten to trip her up. Her stride is interrupted however, and she hip-checks the soggy weather-beaten remains of a broad table. She sends a few oaths to gods high and low and swings her hammer up through the sill of a empty window, smashing it out and her body follows suit, emerging next to the damaged structure. Quite a bit dustier, she heaves her chest like bellows and peers over with a wide feral grin to where she /thinks/ she started. She zeros back in on Hywel and then notes Merrisol. "I'll crush this 'hole bloody neighbor'ood." she promises with a gleam in one of her eyes. She hefts her massive hammer again and prepares to head back into the fray.
Raphaela comes here from the direction of the Queen Street and Sceptre Way - Amber City.
Hywel remains smoking cheerfully on top of the steam shovel, which is in the process of demolishing the remains of the old ruined lower city. All? No, for Ruby appears to be in the process of assisting, whilst Hywel offers helpful commentary, "You missed the rest of that wall."
Huh! "Who's -WE-?" Merrsiol squints up from under his shielding wrist, but the air in his vicinity is rapidly gone hazy with mortar dust and spitting gravel chips. He switches his view to Ruby on ground level, working her way through the ruined shell of a residence, mighty sledgehammer a-swinging at all standing structures within her long reach. "Should've let her deck a Triton.." he mumbles, but gives her a well-exaggerated double-thumbs-up. Then more chunks of wood and brick rain down at him, and he's retreating to the safe-ish perimeter where most of the witnesses are gathered.
A railway track runs from the demolition site off to a yard, the hitched trailers filling up with rubble as Hywel's creation both crushes and shovels with steam-powered efficiency. It only takes a bit of watching and listening to the shouts lobbed between Artificer and Smith to realize she is not assisting the project but *challenging* the might of the machine with that of her own muscles. Soon enough, with every thunderous cave-in, the spectators raise a brief cheer, attracting more passerby from other condemned sidestreets.
Dirk comes here from the direction of the Queen Street and Sceptre Way - Amber City.
Hywel is puffing away at his cigar. After a while, he digs around in his jacket, which sits on the top of the steamshovel next to him, and pulls out some architectural plans, "A bit to your left. That bit needs to be flattened out. And watch out. There should be a big sewerpipe near..."
Dirk is walking down near the docks sticking out like a goth sore thumb.
Raphaela has a armfull of folders in her arms as she walks towards the commotion of the demolishing site, sticking to safe out of puff spots. She headtilts. Not exactly a sore thumb. She visits docks a lot and apparently feels cozy here.
Dirk yawns as he stops to watch the machinations of the machine and man.
Raphaela looks to her side and is not at all suprised to see Dirk there. "Oy."
Ruby licks at her lips, slurping up some dusty sooty goodness. The large woman's answer to what amounts to 'you missed a spot' has her working her tongue about to collect grit into a loogie, sending it towards the closest railcar. She wrinkles her nose and leverages the maul up and points it towards the shovel, a display of bravado. Jabbing the considerable weight in the direction of the busy engine of progress. "Tha's just fer'ah start! Nuthin beats blood'n bone!" she wargarbles and hops backwards and then forwards, using the momentum to start the ugly hammer in another revolution about her body. She seems to be in her own little world, or psyching herself up like some braying prizefighter without a ring. "Always comes back tah blood'n gristle!" And a bloody big sledgehammer. With a huge swing she turns and disembowls the nearest wall, moving inside again with the followup arc, her legs smashing past wood and brick.
Raphaela oohs and shuffles folders so she can applaud.
Dirk says "hey Ralph of my dreams how is it going?"
RPG: Ruby declares that she owns this token:
Title: Da Bonk
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Created via Magic-Hardened Blade (REC-MB)
A large war hammer of immense size and weight. It is an ugly and brutish tool. A cross between a pole arm and a maul. There are no delicate engravings, artful accents or decorations of any kind. It is bereft of colour, comprised of cold grey steel and the sooty black leather wrappings that wind along the hilt. The face of the hammer is full of closely packed pyramidal wedges, like a giant tenderizer. Opposite this is a relatively smaller hunk of steel that tapers into two giant teeth or cogs. They resemble incisor-like shapes that are focused enough to pierce with the application of enough force. At the bottom of the six foot handle is a smaller cap of metal that acts as a slight counterbalance.
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RPG: Hywel declares that he owns this token:
Title: Steam Shovel/Crane
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Created via Begman Artificer (BEG-AR)
A huge mechanical digger and crane, driven by steam, and moving on tracked wheels, this creation of SCIENCE is solidly working at clearing the ruins in the lower city, particularly with a view to getting the docks fully operational again.
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Merrisol holds his breath as a wall folds inwards with the force of the woman's swing. The concern in his expression speaks of a desperate urge to fashion a regulation construction hat and rush in to plant it upon Ruby's crazy noggin. But it seems there's no getting close to the woman at the moment, for fear of either breaking her stride and/or getting brokened by her.
The technophiles in the crowd jeer at Ruby's wild efforts as the mean machine methodically works its way through its targeted structure, cleaning up after itself. But other Lower City residents appear to be rallying to the forge-mistress's great yawps, answering her bravado and destructive passion with an encouraging roar.
As Ruby is lost in another toppling cave-in, only to emerge from the roiling dust clouds still swinging, Merrisol shakes his head then has to give in to a loud laugh that tosses his head back. "Get it done, Ruby!!" he hollers. "BLOOD and BONE!"
Raphaela sighs "Machines of course are the way to go, but nothing stirrs emotion like effort alas." she shouts, then "YOU are doing it all wrong." she points at Ruby and tells to Dirk and other nearbystanders finger to chin "They should suit her up IN a machine. That woman combined with mecha would be...AWESOME."
Hywel puffs at his cigar. Yep. The little man is looking smug. Not least, because, well, someone is actually using powers to help out, at last, with the rebuilding.
Ruby can't be flinging herself wilding through what the tsunami left behind without encountering all those sharp and splinter filled jagged bits. When she re-emerges covered in a lighter all-over tint, she coughs out a lungful of particulate. She staggers, trying to slow her progress and not waste all the adrenaline that's pumping through her body. She's trying to tackle all those structures and formidable looking parts that the Steam shovel has not gotten to yet, because it reduces things down so well and leaves nothing for the crazed amazonian to do anything to. And she hasn't even tried to transport the rubble into any of the railcars yet. She pivots, the weigh of her sledge helping a little too eagerly to assist her. Cuts and a slices in her skin bleed through her covering of dust, soaking and matting the grit. Another example of flesh versus steel. Perhaps a helmet would have been appropriate. Lowering her head, her gritted teeth like a pearly-white radiator, she charges back, rushing ahead of the Shovel if she can, leaping and bounding before swinging her over-long mallet in a one-handed strike before carrying it over her shoulder in a diagonal arc for another wall-bashing crash and following it inside to murder the interior.
Dirk yells " go go!"
Amidst the people shouting: "Blood and Bone!" and then "Ruby.. SMASH!!" as her given name circulates, Merrisol hears Raphaela's voice and cranes back to catch sight of the Baroness and listen. "Exactly!" he points to her, "Equip the People! Train and educate, don't replace them!" She'd only been talking about Ruby-powered Mecha, of course. But Merri, he's such a good listener! This is totally what he heard. "Power the People!" He turns back to look for Ruby, but she's no longer sticking to the visible edges of the demolition site. Concern rises anew, while he moves in closer to catch a glimpse. Just follow the broken brick road?
Raphaela ponders "I'd love to watch her in battle. It would rain blood, I reckon." bystanders eye the gentle baronesse and take a step back from her sparkling enthusiasm. She ohs "Or a chainsaw. THat would be neat." she blinksa s Merri's shout awakes her from miscelanous sordid contemplations. She arches a brow. Yeah yeah, whatever, revolutionary. She then shouts "A round of beer on Sorgo in filltheblankname(someone will owe me a favor) tavern for every structure crushed AND removed by the end of the day!"
Hywel puffs away, "Free the People!" He puffs out a cloud of smoke, "No MORE need people slave away at things which do not require a man!" He stands, a little unsteadily on the moving roof. "No MORE need people work their fingers to the bone and achieve nothing! With the Power of SCIENCE we may let you work less, and achieve MORE!" He reaches down, and puts on his jacket, "For in these houses which rise, there will be running water for ALL! Safe, clean, and hygienic Sanitation, for ALL! These are not, my Brothers and Sisters, mere aspirations! These are RIGHTS for the working Man! Aye, and woman too!"
Raphaela offered BEER! Eff the running water, she knows what flows as blood on the docks! This is a true test of men here! Ruby's way, Hywy's way, or they can be heros cooperate and everyone gets a free beer. DIPLOMAT's WAY!
Dirk tickles Ralph.
Raphaela does not allow people tickle her randomly in public. Her bodyguard looms over Dirk all grumpy all of the sudden. He knows Dirk bt he's ready to protect reputation of Baroness.
Ruby's initial presence can be heard easier than seen, apart from when she passes in front of a caved-in bit of wall. Thunks. Crashes. Smashes. Curses. These challenge the larger sounds of the Steam Shovel as it inexorably does what it was designed to do. The large woman comes out the other side and shakes herself, hair whipping about as she strains to hear the raised voices sounding out from their particular positions. Hard to make some of it, the blood pounding in her ears like skin-lined drums in the deep. Her forearm comes up to swipe vigorously at her eyes and nose. Rapid blinks and another assessment of what she's managed to accomplish and what she can set herself on next. "Bloody thing..." she snarls as the machine cares not and simply continues on and on. She coughs out another wad of mucous and makes her way along the outside of a wall, laying into it like it said something bad about her Nan.
Hywel sways atop the working engine, "Your King has ordered these things... aye, and paid for them too.... and set a genius to build them. But NEVER forget these are things you are entitled to! The dignity of the working man must NEVER be undermined!" A beat's pause, "Uh.... Mistress?" He yells over towards Ruby, "On the subject of undermining you're _right_ over the sewer downflow....."
Some people from the crowd shout out, "With what money if the jobs are scooped up?!" Conflicting opinions on making things hyper-efficient cry out. "Free to starve on our arses when one machine will do the work of many?" "What about the dignity of an honest days work?"
Hywel says, "My comrades, it's not the way in Begma! Machines make things cheaper, so all may afford it. People make machines. People direct machines. This is not to steal bread from your mouths, but to put it there! Clean milled bread. Less grit in it."
Dirk listens quietly so not to draw attention to himself as a shadow walking weirdo.
Ruby stampedes along, ignorant of such things like the location of sewer downflows and pipes. Probably filled with all manner of horrible and yucky stuff. The smell would probably tip her off if she wasn't so focused on trying to compete. Smash. Stamp stamp stamp. Her hammer drags along, catching and pulling at joice and rivet, post and pillar. Lumbering like a rhino with the scent of a another in it's nostrils, she trudges and continues to bludgeon away right overtop the helpfully pointed out 'bad place'.
Raphaela's eyes narrow on Hywel, "Ah. We all might want to step back." she pads away to an estimated safe spot, she whistles "I do hope those machines can stand the extreme enviroments and corrosion..."
Raph should know, sewage so low is mixing with salt of the sea... salt and machines... lovely. Yay Salts.
The machines, it should be noted, are not where Ruby is. Rather they are reaching over to claw and scoop at things, before bringing the rubble back to railway carts, to be moved away. There's a big spoil heap at one end of the Lower City, and at the other, the regimented ordered rows of brick houses have risen.
Dirk smiles " well if she falls it that's gonna stink for her." Dirk follows Ralph to safety. yay keen senses!
Oh oh. Someone is underestimating the flow of stench reaching docks from up above, oy. Do not underestimate how much of bs can UPPERS dump on Lowers. It's a matter of ballads.
The pressure, the sheer pressure...Geysir? Whassitspelled? It should be epic! If it's not. Aw.
Whump! If it wasn't directly struck with the hammer, her stompy feet certainly helped precipitate matters. The sound of metal giving way under her feet, the cringe-inducing, shrieking sound of chirping metal separating from rusty hinges and bolts. It certainly /looks/ painful when she suddenly lurches forward and one leg descends into the dank darkness while the other remains topside. Her eyes bulge and arms windmill before lurching forward. Both hands clasp onto the handle for all she's worth. With the hammer across the top of the violated storm drain as a brace, she hangs there. Her first words are cast downwards into the foul smelling drain, and have an echoing quality. "Bawls!"
Hywel lets out a little groan, "I warned her. Everyone heard me warn her." He starts climbing down from the roof of the steamshovel, hammering on the cab, "Going to need the crane line...."
Dirk is busy plugging his nose. NO help there.
Raphaela doesn't even wrinkle her nose. Oh the stylish. Who had sense of retreating up the wind...
Merrisol is somewhere around the site, wading through the puffing plumes of dust in search of his headstrong friend. Of course, following her trail of destruction out through the other side of the building lets him know she's come out all right. Right? RIGHT?
Hywel takes the end of the crane cable, and ties a rope to it, which he starts to pay out, as he advances in the direction of vanishment, "Aye.... are you alright in there?"
Ruby kicks against the side of slick sewer pipe. Her face contorts into an assortment of grimaces as the smells of sewer play havoc with her olfactory senses. These grunts and curses echo out hollowly, perhaps a bit comically, from where she considers her options. Narrowing her eyes and allowing herself a moment to simmer towards a boil, Ruby tightens her hands against the haft of the hammer until her knuckles pop. Using her prodigious strength, she sets her face into a mask of effort and very slowly pulls herself up so that her head and shoulders become visible, muscles and veins standing out in freakish definition. Merrisol will probably see her rising from the tomb of smells like some very unhappy gal. And Hywel too for that matter.
Merrisol pauses in the swirling drifts of particulate, scarf over his nose and one arm up to wave away clouds from his eyes. Somewhere nearby, the pleasant hollow basso sounds of the sousaphone. At least, it /sounds/ as if there is a polka band playing within a large tin can. He walks several paces towards it, then jumps back from the slowly figure rising from the big drainage pipe. Up zips his glance to see Hywel peering down from a derrick with his fishing cable. "Oh, Ruby!" A reprisal of his entrance exclamation, and he's jumped forth to hunker down and offer Ruby a hand out of the sewer pipe before it belches at her or something. Sewers are rude that way.
Hywel works his way closer, with the rope, which, whilst holding onto, in case anything shifts unexpectedly, he dangles down towards Ruby, "Here y'are, Lass."
Ruby spares some effort to glare towards those close enough to have an eyeball on her. Scissoring her legs in quick swiping motions to help cheat her higher a few inches. "Anybody laughs...they get caved in." Like a sewer grating. The offered rope is treated as if it were coated in...sewage. "Git tha thing away from me! I ain't no bloody carp!" Ooooh, bursting with self-reliance and pride like an overflowing sewer pipe. She bares her teeth at it while she urges her body to focus on but one task. Get out of this big hole. Her hammer shifts while she redistributes her weight, making more protesting metallic nails-on-chalkboard sounds. Merrisol's offered hand is looked at more favorably. But she's committed to salvaging herself. "Bog's bloody sunken balls. Blokes...line'n oop tah 'elp a...lass. Save mah...save mah..." Mocking the situation and herself. Gritting her teeth hard enough to seriously risk a trip to the dentist, she heaves herself with a howl and manages to lurch up and pull a leg up over the edge. "I just need'ah min-oot...Still stoof tah smack. Very hard.
Hywel gives a little shrug, and retreats, coiling back up the rope as he goes, to resume his rebuilding of the lower city in a GRAND DESIGN, informed by the precepts of SCIENCE, powered by the majesty of ENGINEERING, and enlivened by the principles of HYGIENIC LIVING! So there!
Dirk stares at ruby. "is she Gerard spawn?"
Merrisol scoots back to give the self-help maiden some room, and waits on his haunches a few moments before he levers to his feet and looks up to see Hywel going back to standing tall atop the product of his genius. "He's not but a little man standing on the shoulders of giants," he observes, perhaps referring to more than the literal sight of the the automaton boosting Hywel's stature. He looks around carefully, then turns a bit to regard Ruby again, observing her powder-coated bruises and cuts, and somewhat amazed she is also getting right back into things.
"Looks like you've got more competition," he tells her, with a gesture around to the small groups of citizens coming over with their own hammers and prybars and work gloves, possibly in response to Ruby's inspiring demonstration of pure grit and the joys of peak physical power.. possibly in response to Merrisol's call for people to take back their work from the machines that made their skills pointless.. possibly in response to Raphaela's standing offer to buy rounds for demo'd and cleared lots.. or possibly.. in response to Hywel's.. erm.. naw. It's gotta be the beer.
Dirk sings a song of beer a six pack mixed with rye. two and twenty citizens drank hywel dry.
Ruby gets to hands and knees, the smell of Amber's underside still fresh in her nostrils. "Wish it was a bloody giant. Sumpthin with'ah face..." she settles backwards, rocking on the heels of her feet while she drags her sledge closer to her. Once Hywel has retreated and clambered up on his soapbox of steam and metal, she slowly raises to her full height again, stepping back from the sewer. The large woman casts her gaze over the assortment of voluntary labour.
Ruby says, "Aye. Watch 'oot fer them stink-pits. Strange 'ow they just laying a-boot. Like them whatsits...traps. Like an ambush. Bloody metal. Bang't intah shape...It let you down at tha worst times."
