<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong>Amanuel</strong></span><br/><br/>There were people in his workshop. There had been people in his workshop in the past, to be sure. There were now people living in his workshop. They were eating. Drinking. Fucking. Not fighting, not yet. Not stealing, not much.<br/><br/>They were having sex within Her. In truth he found it hard to criticize this without falling into hypocrisy. She was very sensual, overpoweringly so, and he could not fault the others for trying to commune with her on that ecstatic level. He had repaired the left rear tire, bringing it into balance with the others. He had done what he could do bring Her peace, to bring Her pleasure. Inside the cavity of his heart he knew, though, that She was not to be his. He could serve Her. He could service Her. He could seek pleasure within Her embrace. But she was destined for larger things.<br/><br/>A 9/16" nut on the left rear wheel bearing needed replacing, and it was made so. He swallowed the worn part, so that a piece of Her would ever reside inside him.<br/><br/>His plans were glorious. Sheets of blueprint as wide as his outstretched arms showing Her transformation. He would bring Her beauty to light so that others might revel in it just as he had. In her time She was one of many; he knew that now. She was designed to blend in. In this time She was unique, and She would be made to stand out. To exult in the greater glory of the Creator. The plans were nailed to the wall near Her so that She might see Her new garb. Golds and silvers, flashing lights, an array of brass horns tuned to the fanfare of the Creator. And the windows -- they were not necessary. Her presence would protect those within. In his vision each panel was replaced with a kaleidoscope of stained glass, bathing the interior in a wash of color.<br/><br/>If only it could be. That would depend upon The Wheel. He stood now with The Wedge as she failed to pierce Her armor. She did not feel pain from the attack, only pleasure in showing Her strength. The Wheel was a good man. He would know what to do.<br/><br/>With a start Amanuel recognized his foolishness. The Wheel was here, and a mere six meters away, beyond two concrete walls and buried beneath sheet metal, lay the Thing that was Taken. Before the last trip Amanuel had been coaxing it to play again, to join its voice with the mighty Organ, and he knew without a doubt that he had stupidly left it powered. There were potential outcomes here which were not good. He moved to stand closer to the Wedge and the Wheel, ready to offer his assistance or advice should either desire it.<br/><br/><br/>