Trudy was once a government-run dirigible capable of indefinite flight. However, when the world’s pollution became unbearable, the rich and the desperate quickly annexed the airship.
As time passed, Trudy changed.

Due to Trudy's complex layout, I sketched out its rough proportions before handing it off to our concept artist. The districts were colour-coded to provide an easy point of reference.
Ramshackle garrets were built on its surface. Conveyor belts wound through the bricolage carrying all waste to the forge. The sewage systems became a home for the poor. Precious evergreen gardens were hung from its stern. Aeries stretched up, merging together in a web of brachiating cable cars. Anchors were built to collect and mine skybound flotsam. The corpse of a horologic AI was stripped to form its ram.
Trudy grew, and endured.

The first concept was quite good, but the "Big Ben" clock towers seemed too Victorian and didn't accurately capture the scope of the vessel.
The ship’s verdigris and rust covered surface has ablated over the centuries, but it continues to protect its denizens. Most of the people aboard consider the world below a myth; a legend as dangerous as Trudy’s own clockwork labyrinths. There are always those who try to brave the depths of the clouds, but they never come back. The rest are simply content to stay and persevere, just like their floating home.

The finished Trudy. Its ram was probably the hardest part to get right and took quite a few iterations.