Reclaimed blue-grey bricks from an old fermentation shed sat stacked by the mixer, black with decades of river silt and soot. The site lead wanted to acid-wash every face clean so the board wouldn't think we were cutting corners with salvage scrap. We talked him down to a dry wire brush, and on damp mornings that courtyard wall still pulls out a deep, bruised violet tone you can't fake with a modern kiln.