The corridor outside Scogworth's workshop was already bustling by the time they opened the over sized, brass bound door. The brass signified the shop of an engineer. Had it the door been bound in steel it would have marked the establishment of a higher officer with rank. Copper was more widely used, since it was in greater abundance. The more base medal was synonymous with the working class. One younger, willowy girl was unceremoniously snatched from the hall by Scogs. “What is going on? What is the meaning of all this, girl?” He asked impatiently. “It's one of the Trollers, sir! They been spotted by the South Tower!” Her sentences were delivered in rapid succession. Scogs released the girl and she went on her way, faster than before. He turned and surveyed his shop, his mind racing faster than the young girl. Draisy spoke first. “Scogs what are we going to do?!” All of the fail safes had flown out of her head. “The plans, Draisy, they mustn’t fall in to the hands of the trollers. Grab the filings and I will begin dismantling the prototypes .” He spoke as he moved towards the work table. Draisy went straight to the filings and started pulling the schematic drawings along with preliminary finding sheets. She consigned the preliminarys to the flames of the lamp. In preparation of such an event, the old man had scribed his schematics small. They were easily concealed in the bodice of Draisy's dress. “Scogs! We have to go, now!” The sirens were louder now but muffled every so often by the sound of large cannon. It was now or never. Sky Port 3-12 was not garrisoned or designed for heavy defense. The population was mostly civilian. Scogs strapped on his small SteamShot, bumping the table in his haste to exit the room. They were both unaware of the sloshed oil from the lamp, the flames trailing across the intricate handle and dancing their way towards the welding tanks. Draisy was already in the corridor as Scogs slammed the door behind him. The hall was almost deserted, as they raced in the direction of the closest dock. When they rounded the third corner, the floor greeted them both in the face. The explosion had rocked the whole building at it's core. The structure was a honeycomb design and Scogs's workshop was just slightly away from the center. The building was breaking apart around them when the dock came into sight. For an old man, Scogs was keeping up surprisingly well. Draisy only had to fall back for him once when he was jostled into a doorway, his coat ripping on a protruding hinge.

The first ship in sight was their destination, with no time for contemplation. The ropes were loosed before they even cleared the rails. Draisy rolled to a crashing stop against the main support, lying on her back and staring up at the oval shaped canvas that would lift her away from certain death. Scogs was on his feet and staring over the rail when she finally raised herself up to join him. The fire was quickly spreading across the port. The effulgence of the flames had a wicked beauty to them, Draisy had never seen its like before. The propellers for forward motion were picking up speed, as the schooner dropped low behind the mountain crest and slipped away. ~

Draisy's Misfortune: Draisy on a Line...

The moonlight glinting reflectively off the polished copper buttons of her black corset, surrounded on all sides by the sounds of the waves. By now she is out there clinging to that line. As the fabric starts to shrink in the cold water, the panic starts to set in. The petticoats are the first thing discarded when she hits the ocean. She knows how they will slow her down. Feeling the line go tight, Draisy knows the steam ship Catherine has started to move again, some 150 feet up in the air above her. She is waiting now for what lies ahead. The rope goes tight, in the frigid open waters, and her drag begins This torment, although not the first time, is deserved, to some degree.

This is how we find Draisy right now, but how did she get here? I am afraid, I will have to backtrack a little to get you to fully understand. Her story began, much like any other. It was a bright, sunny day at Sky Port 3-12. Draisy was the assistant to, a somewhat prominent engineer, Scogsworth Ratan. Scogs, as most people referred to him, worked in the Gunny division and he was really getting close to making his SteamShot technology a reality. The small prototype, he kept at his waist, was functioning fine. True, the boiler cylinder was still getting a little to hot, but the tin used was extremely light weight. The problem, however, was the larger version .It was dead-lined for installation in less than a week. The compression he was producing was phenomenal, but the tin was not standing up to the job. Draisy was busying herself with arranging the Engineer's hand tools. The long trestle table was cleaner than usual, Scogs must have took her advice and made it an early night. As she placed the last tool in its' normal home, a ball-peen hammer, Scogs rushed in rounding the table in a hurry. He was apparently Hell bent on making up for his lapse on the previous night. “Draisy! Good your here. I fear your advice may be the death of me!” The older man blustered. “Good Morrow, Draisy. How was your evening, Draisy?” The girl chided. Her voice was dripping with her usual, sarcastic charm. “Foolish whelp of a girl! I just received word of the Inspectors coming this way, today. I do not have time for your antics this morning.” The Engineer was definitely not in the best of moods. “Worst of all is the fact I am behind schedule, no thanks to you.” “Scogs, I am so sorry. I didn't know! You just looked so tired, I thought.” Draisy trailed off, abashed. She quickly bent to the morning preparations, at breakneck speed, fearing to dissatisfy her employer further. Taking a calming breath, Scogsworth, began again. “Oh Draisy, dear, It is not your fault and I did not mean to upset you so. My stress level is reaching a new threshold and I need you now. Please do not take offense at an old man's mistreatment.” “Scogs, it is I who should be sorry, Sir!” Draisy replied, quickly. “What can I do to help? Inspectors are the worse, even for you.” “No time to waste, then. Draisy, set up the welder. We will begin with the housing walls for the tanks. I have an idea for a more solid construction.” They both began to set about their task and by mid-morning, their work was rewarded. The tanks were taking the proper shape and the copper tubing he had ordered three days before had finally arrived. All seemed well prepared for the impending visit. In two more hours a working model should be ready for the initial round of testing. That was when the sound of the sirens began to fill the air.

Draisy/ Short/ Serial

After much thought and "Brainstorming" with an important group of friends.... I have decided to create a Serial/Short/Flash Friday spot on my blog! I have been toying and writing, a little, on a new story. I plan to slowly debut it right here on my blog. So, a couple of quick things to cover, beginning with the most scary fact for me... All excerpts posted will be rough and unedited! I ask that you judge my creativity and NOT my punctuation. Seriously though, I will be editing as I go and hope that it will not be too grammatically challenged.

Alright, time for the "Meat and Potatoes".... The Story Line: Draisy's Misfortune The main character's name is Draisy and the genre is, you guessed it... Steampunk. My story is still coalescing, at the moment, but we find Draisy in the middle of the ocean, hooked to a line. The other end of that line is attached to an Airship, One hundred and fifty feet above her... Well now, I can't give you too much, can I? Hopefully it will be a story everyone can enjoy. I plan to debut the first installment THIS FRIDAY! So be sure to check back. Oh, I am adding a new page to the blog just for Miss Draisy. This way I can keep her separate and make checking for new stories that much easier. Happy Reading!