It was snowing again-- not that you could feel it's bitter cold, not while the large furnace hissed and spat, its harsh heat melted everything, leaving pools of slush by the door. The large furnace, blackened with age and use stood at the center of the cobbled room. If anyone cared to look closely they would be able to pick out moving shapes within the fire's depth, fire salamanders would be the most likely explanation, the slight smell of brimstone was also a clue that the small red-hot creatures were the source of the fire. Cogs, bolts, screws and gears were scattered on the cobbled floor. On closer inspection the slightly grubby room appeared to be a modified stable block, the lack of light (aside from the furnace of course) indicative of that, the only other light in the room came from two tiny windows, covered in dust. The door, too gave a little light as it was stood slightly ajar. The room was fairly large, despite the furnace taking up most of the room, though you would almost never be able to tell due to the amount of junk that was contained in it. Clock parts and half completed clocks covered the counter tops, half finished clockwork projects, some newly discarded, others collecting dust, every bit of a clock you could imagine was here, some were perfectly restored, they stood ticking on a high self, while the half completed ones stood in rows, gears and springs all around them. There was even a model of the solar system gently spinning around, it seemed to glow faintly as it spun. Mesmerizing. A large trunk and a stool sat in one corner, the trunk was locked but due to the note stuck on it there was no secrets as to what it held. "Molds + scrap metal. Do Not Misplace." Scrap metal? That was a joke-- this whole place was scrap metal. Everything that could be taken apart and looked at, seemed to be here. Was that half an organ in the corner? It could well be, though it was hard to tell in the half light. Even the odd motor was on the desk, some had little notes on, the paper yellowing and worn. Several sets of goggles and many sets of keys lay about, obviously put in that 'safe place' where you could never find them. The place was an odd mix of a junk shop, a black smiths, a clock repairers, a junkyard and someone's loft. It was quite astounding, you could have looked at the place every day for a year and you'd still find something new when you came back the next day. The door creaked open a little more as a figure came through it backwards, kicking the door open with her heel, in her hands was several pieces of broken clocks and a slightly tarnished silver tea pot. She was a striking figure, her black hair was pulled off her face, it was pulled through a hole in the leather hood that seemed to be either a modified aviators hat or something she'd thought up herself to keep the heat off her face, balanced carefully on top of that was a pair of goggles, one had to wonder if she knew they were there, judging by the several other pairs of goggles around, apparently not. She was petite and quite slim built. She was the wiry sort, what little curves she had were emphasized slightly by the blue cinch she wore around her waist. Despite seeming rather petite she had a toughened look to her, her clothes, despite being well looked after almost always had a little soot on them and her hands were slightly callused, she bore all the signs of someone who worked with metal and heat for a living. She set the teapot down brushing a few springs to the floor in her attempt to find some space to put it down on, unaware of the fact she'd forgotten a teacup, her eyes wandered along the length of the counter before they reached a mass of cogs and springs, if your eyes were focused enough in the half-light you might have just picked out a shape beginning to form, she fumbled in her pocket for a moment before pulling out a tiny wrench and a hair pin.
Several minutes later and Alanna Campden was feeling rather pleased with herself, in her slightly sweaty palm sat a brass grass hopper, it's copper antenna flicked about purposefully and it's tiny onyx eyes glimmered as it regarded it's creator. It gave a very soft 'Chirup' before it hopped, landing on the counter, Alanna sighed and tried to grab the feisty critter, it jumped up sailing over her outstretched hand with relative ease, as it landed the key in it's back stopped turning and it froze in its position, it's mandibles clicked in irritation before it stopped moving entirely. The young woman gave a soft laugh before she picked up the little creature and pocketed it, unlike some of the others this one was going to stay. Unlike the rag and bone women that went looking for cloth, Alanna went looking for scrap metal, either something that she could fashion into one of her clockwork critters or a clock she could repair or even just metal to melt down. Sometimes she'd sell the things she made, other times they would go into her privet collection of clockwork. The clock it it's glass case was one of her favourites and the mesmerizing model of the solar system was another. There were always people ready to give up their broken clocks and snapped chains among other things, Alanna also made it her business to go and visit the clock repairers, they were almost always happy for her to take away the clocks which were beyond fixing.
She should really put the fire out before she did anything else, but it seemed a little to cold for that, instead she reached over for a well used pair of coal tongs, she picked up the salamanders from the fire one by one before placing them in a metal bucket filled with snow, the small creatures hissed and writhed as they were unceremoniously dropped in the icey substance. After a moment of cooling off she placed them back in the fire, by now the roaring fire had degraded into a few embers. That would do for now. Alanna turned, making sure she had everything she needed, being as absent minded as her mother, she didn't. She pulled on a well patched coat, the leather was worn, and it seemed to be made up of mostly buckles, holes and patches of a slightly dark leather. She pulled the hood over her head before going out to face the snow, it was still only early in the day and Alanna was thankful it wasn't market day, for one carting around clocks was no fun to begin with, but in this whether the journey from the outskirts of the city to the center would be horrible. Instead she'd make her rounds with a few thank you trinkets in her pockets and a jar of slightly burned biscuits, maybe those in the larger houses on the other side would take pity on her, the rich always had the best clocks, she smiled thinking of everything she'd be able to do with another grandfather clock.
Her boots hit the cobblestones as she walked, their sound muffled by the snow. She couldn't see another soul out, not that she could see very far, large flakes of snow fell evenly, there was a bitter, bitter chill to the air, it seemed as if winter really had set in. Aldrect was a beautiful city, especially in the snow, if gently glazed over most of the flaws and tactfully covered the uglier bits of the city, everything was rather silent, only the slight sound of voices muffled by the snow could be heard and the quiet wheedling music of some street performer trying to make enough to escape the freezing temperatures he was enduring. She walked down the main streets, pulling her coat around her as she did so, despite the beauty of where she was it was still bitterly cold, it bit at her callused fingers and it bit at her nose. Alanna's head turned just in time to see her grasshopper jump out of her pocket and into the snow, it must have managed to wind itself up! Wonderful. Alanna cursed, before scrambling after it, the metal insect gave a noise of joy as it jumped, happy to be out of the pocket that smelt of wood smoke and iron. "Come back here you little fiend! You'll get rusty, you'll be laughing when you go all stiff and yeh can't move for squeakin'!" She knew he'd run out eventually, but it was cold and she had better things to do than be out in the snow looking for him when he finally stopped. Atleast she could look forward to making a nice woodlouse or millipede when she got in-- Something that was nice and slow when it was wound up.
(Long Post. X3 The Brass Grasshopper's name is Sprog. :3)
