Rudi scanned the horizons looking for any trace of the old ground cities, where perhaps a bit of metal or, even better, intact machinery, might be found. This was the purpose of a Scrapper's life: To glean the detritus of the human race's previous existence.
A petite young woman barely out of her teens, many considered Rudi too young for the dangers of scrapping. Her response was always to brush off those comments as irrelevant, as an orphan with no clan name or property there was little else in society that was open to her, at least that she was willing to do.
Rudi's hair was cut short in a boyish no nonsense style, though it was seldom seen as she was never without the tight flying helmet that had become her trademark. Other than that she wore her usual outfit of heavy thick-soled ground boots, trousers tucked into the thigh high boots, and the long flying jacket which had been all the rage 50 years back. All in all, she looked like an anachronism from a by-gone era. It was a look she preferred over the more modern getups that either mimicked the military or the wealthy styles, both of which she sneered at.
Rudi plopped down onto her belly at the edge of the platform and peered out over the edge. The drop of a few thousand feet before her might disturb most people, but for someone who grew up playing tag in the latticed under-structures of these SkyLands, the height held no fears.