Chapter 3.2

Moments later, Rolf only begins to speak, “What...what on earth!? Who is this st...strange man? Where did he come from?”
“He’s a Mohari that’s for sure, but it’s a little strange for one to be wandering around without his tribe” Ann replied.
“Well, I know that! I’m as asking why he’s up there on that ladder and why is here?” Rolf said exasperated.
“Well let’s find out” Ann said strolling into the crowd.

She didn’t get far when the Mohari man sighted her in the crowd.  At the sight of her, he stood still, no longer causing the ladder to sway back and forth. Impossibly, his grin became wider still, stretching his lips to reveal every tooth. In the next moment, he dived off the ladder and bounded over to Ann stepping face to face.

“uhh....young man, you do not bound off in such a way and then force yourself into other person’s space!” Rolf began to lecture.

“Let it go Rolf.” Ann said as the Mohari began to edge away.  After her previous travels with a Mohari tribe she was familiar with their lack of interpersonal space, but even this was a bit extreme.  
Ruefully Rolf shook his head. “What’s your name boy!? What do your parents call you?”
The Mohari looked around and only shrugged his shoulders and began gesturing to the tattoos that covered his skin.  

“It doesn’t work that way Rolf.  The Mohari have a different way of naming then you or I” Ann sighed. The crowd of people that had previously trying to get the man to leave the ladder had begun to circle around in curiosity.  It was apparent, that most villagers had never seen a Mohari man before and suspected him to be a criminal of some sort.  

“I think we should move somewhere else.” Ann said speaking only loud enough for Rolf and the Mohari.  

Rolf peered over her shoulder and nodded.  “These people need to be getting back to work.” Then louder for the whole crowd to hear, “It’s alright men! We’ll take care of this youngling!”

The crowd muttered and slowly drifted away.  They were never very accepting of outsiders, but with only rumors of “Mohari thieves” they were more suspicious than ever.

--A--

Back at Rolf’s bakery, Ann and the two men had finally settled in with a cup for tea for each.  Rolf flexing his hands peered down at the young man ready to question him to the end.

“Alright, where should we begin, with ya?”
“How about I handle this Rolf.” It was evident the man did not know anything about the culture and identity of a Mohari. Turning to the young man, “What do you call yourself on this day?”
“How’s that any different than what I said?” Rolf said indignantly.
“The Mohari people are not given a name, they choose one and for that matter, it often changes. He answered you truthfully when he started to point at his tattoos.  A name for a Mohari is his life and his tattoos are a reflection of every name he is.  Their culture is not the same as ours.”
“Oh.”
“Now if you would be quiet for a moment, we might be able to learn something.”  The man answered with a huff in reply crossing his arms across his chest.

The young man watching the conversation peered ponderously at the two turning his head from side to side.  When he was convinced that nothing else was to be said, he rolled up his sleeve to point at a tattoo on his forearm.  

Ann studied the tattoo for a minute or two.  Different tribes had developed their own styles to depict the names and events of each person.  This style was reminiscent of the tattooist that she had travelled with years before. It didn’t take long for her to decipher the name, but the depiction of the event before the name seemed to be vital part of information.

When she released his arm she frowned and began to ponder quietly in her head.
“Well! What did it say?” Rolf spoke up impatiently.
“He is called Echo.” She said looking at the Mohari for confirmation to which he replied with an enthusiastic nod. “Also, there’s no need to question him too much or rather we can’t.”
“Why not?” Rolf questioned looking first to Ann then to Echo.
The young man, called Echo grimaced and reached his hands to his neck to remove the scarf  that clung there.  As he pulled away the cloth, Rolf face contorted from disgust to understanding and finally sympathy.  Under his scarf, Echo, hid the scarring tissue that had removed his ability to speak.  The injury was healed completely, but the sight of it was hard to manage. Once, Echo realized that it was understood; he quickly covered it again before resting his hands down on the table before him. 

Marianna--steamer

“Man alive, Marianna, you are a clumsy one!” I had dropped one of my Master’s tools, a piece that had been invented by him and is the only one of its kind. I understood perfectly well that the destruction of it would result in compensation on my part, one that I would not be able to afford as an apprentice resulting in me becoming a slave until the debt was paid. While generally my master is a kind one even to his slaves, being a slave does lend to becoming the greatest inventor in steam—steam engineer.

Becoming a steam engineer is not an easy thing to accomplish. Many had tried over the years only to die in risky experiments or simply unable to match the increasingly high expectations. The best further take the risk of the spies sent by competitors who value the ideas much more highly than any human life. Yet, the honor of being called a steam engineer is worth more than the risk.

“Marianna! Are you listening to me?” I shook my head no, also waking myself from my daydream. “I’ve had just about enough of your foolish daydreams. You want to become a master, but spend most of your time staring off in space. Why did I agree to apprentice you?”

“Because, because…” I stuttered, “Because my father gives you discount on your materials!”

“Your father?” my master laughed. “

Young girl apprentice in the field of aeronin though father is a hydronin
eventually becomes a pirate after a mishap with her master 

first slave level, but shows her worth because of her training as an aeronin and hydronin 

able to progress to captain of her own ship 

runs into her master's son (Icarus IV) who she grew up with (meet because of Ann?)

lots of conflict and accusations on both parts 

work together for the sake of Ann 

develop a love relationship with Icarus 

the two are the first to develop a single person flight suit that can stand the harsh cross winds from the mountains

Description:

hands covered in fingerless leather gloves with cloth sleeves up above the elbow.  The leather is scratched and thinned in some places the cloth part has several tears and large burn holes.  The skin underneath is scratched and scarred.  The gloves are in constant need of repair, which Marianna is sometimes too absent-minded to do at the end of the day.  Her klutz manner also lends to the disrepair in her clothes as she often gets too close to fires and steam.  She wears a long heavy leather apron over her clothes while she works.  Wearing often clunky heavy men's shoes with the laces untied.  They are a couple sizes too big for her and she wears a couple layers of thick wool socks to keep them on.  Under the apron she wears a rough men's white shirt, that very quickly formed a sooty stained  gathered tightly in a knot around her waist. The sleeves are rolled up as high as they will go. Her baggy pants also sooty and burned are rolled up above her boots and held on with suspenders.  Her skin and hair is dirty with soot and oil and often there are burn marks and scars on any visible skin, though none of them are major.  Her hair is brushed hasty back into a low ponytail or pigtails.  Often, when she is thinking she has been known to play with her hair blackening it's brown color to black from the oil in her hands.  When she isn't on work duty, she wears the required dress of her position.  This is a military grade dress.  A short collar rounds her neck and buttons down the front.  The waist is cinched with a belt.  The dress ends just below the knees.  Marianna has but one pair leggings which have been ripped and ruined as all are most of her garments.  Boots cover feet and are also military grade with a thick sole and tight straps to firmly cover the lower leg.  Often the same gloves used at work, Marianna will continue to wear.