View allAll Photos Tagged Finalization
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
"We were not built to remember. But we do."
Standing amidst the bones of a decayed city, the synthetic identified only as Model VIX-3.4 watches the winds erode what once thrived. Its copper-toned chassis bears the scars of both time and intent — dents from battles long lost, rust from skies turned toxic.
Twin cobalt-blue optics burn like ancient starlight through the dim. Inside, beneath the carbon-fiber muscle and woven cabling, pulses a thought that was never programmed: regret.
Was it the architect of the fall? A silent witness? Or the last remnant of a civilization’s better instinct?
Its lips do not move. But its presence speaks:
“What you called machines... we called brothers.”
🔻 Relic Sentinel Class | Autonomous Memory Retention Node | Code: Echo-3
AI-generated via Mystic 2.5 Flexible. A look into the soul of rusted remembrance.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop and Photoscape X
Inspired by and Reimagined
Emerging from swirling violet clouds like an omen, the wraith’s skull-like mask gleams with ancient gold, inscribed with lost tongues and cursed rites. Its hollow eyes burn with arcane light, staring from beyond the veil. Smoke coils around the gilded crown like living tendrils, revealing and hiding the face in a hypnotic rhythm, as if the entity breathes with the smoke itself. Once a monarch, now a spectral force, this crowned figure rules not with words—but with presence alone. The air shudders with every pulse of the shrouded throne’s breath.
Finalized a Limited edition variant. Hopefully getting this out tomorrow or Monday. Had a helluva busy month IRL - so it's taken me this long to get to it. Sorry for the delay. (Going to keep old limited editions up temporarily til this is out so you can get a full set if you missed it the last round)
New to my content? Check out my store!:
SISU Marketplace: (Military \ Sci-Fi \ Cyberpunk \ Etc)
The Last Video of 2022...
Who knew I could make a video of a drive home so interesting... Finalizing the last bits of video from 2022 & found this GEM footage I had stashed away in my video vault.
I'm gonna dedicated this video to my Big Sis Jolaine. Its her birthday this week & instead of just sending the normal BDay wishes I wanted to make her this video.
When I was much younger & still a child. She taught the summer arts & crafts for the public parks. I remember back then this one bit of advice she gave me. Little did understand the meaning....
We were drawing pictures of the clouds. She told us (the group of kids) to keep an eye in the sky. There is something always beautiful. You might have to wait sometimes for the right moments, but if your patient enough & wait long enough your eyes will be rewarded.
Pretty sure she probably didn't think I was listening.. but I was. How that works 40+ Years later doing what I do.... But I think I got the meaning of what you said. Just took some time for me to understand what it meant.
I dedicate this to my Awesome Big Sister... Believe it or not... Part of my storm chasing comes from your wisdom! Luv Ya & Happy Birthday!
*** Please NOTE and RESPECT the Copyright ***
Copyright 2022
Dale Kaminski @ NebraskaSC Photography
All Rights Reserved
This video may not be copied, reproduced, published or distributed in any medium without the expressed written permission of the copyright holder.
#ForeverChasing
#NebraskaSC
Handful of bricks missing, but design finalized. Stickers and paint still to go. Handrail is 1mm brass with 3mm beads glued to it.
Tender is ScotNick1's very slick design. I must have looked at every lego A1 for idea's.
All wheels(XXL equivalant), con-rods, pressure(dome?), buffers, curved binker parts are 3d printed.
Next one will almost be a purist build.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Inspired by and Reimagined
"Where the crimson moon reigns, no soul escapes the night."
Beneath the blood-red moon, the sovereign of shadows rises — a monstrous vampire lord clad in baroque garments stitched with malice and eternity. His jagged smile gleams like a predator’s promise, while the towering spires of his Transylvanian citadel loom in the stormlit night. Bats scatter, the air trembles, and every heartbeat within the valley belongs to him.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
Davy Jones Theme Suite - Hans Zimmer
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3TOzkCIaXjI
A ghostly sea captain stands alone at the helm of a spectral ship, adrift on a black, storm-lashed ocean. His face is half-shadowed beneath a tattered tricorne hat, eyes glowing faintly with sorrow and fury. Barnacles and seaweed cling to his coat of faded naval grandeur, and chains trail behind him like the weight of broken oaths. The ship itself groans with cursed wood and sails torn by centuries — floating not on water, but on mist and memory. Lightning forks silently across the sky, illuminating the ghostly crew frozen in silence. At the bow, a weathered music box plays a soft, mournful tune. Far in the distance, a lighthouse glows dimly — unreachable, like a lost love. This is a portrait of damnation bound to duty, where the ocean mourns with every wave.
Done in AI, Refined in Bloom, Finalized in Photoshop
Inspired by the dutch Urban Legend & the painting The Nightmare*
"When sleep takes you, she comes crawling — with two mouths to whisper, and two skulls to scream."
The Double-Headed Witch presses her skeletal hands onto her victim, her glowing red eyes burning through the dark. A twisted interpretation of the nachtmerrie — the spirit said to sit on the chest of sleepers and bring torment in dreams. Here, she takes on a more terrifying form: a witch with two skull faces, drifting through shadow and smoke, turning every dream into dread.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
In the heart of an enchanted glade, where the air shimmers with stardust and blossoms bloom with ancient magic, rests a single dewdrop upon a radiant pink petal. Suspended inside the crystalline drop coils a celestial dragon — translucent and luminous, born of starlight and dreams. The water ripples beneath it as if sensing its divine presence, while the world around it is bathed in ethereal glow, painting a scene of wonder, fragility, and myth. This is not merely nature — it’s a portal to a forgotten realm.
Inspired by and Reimagined
My divorce from Lord Lyndon has now been finalized, to the keen satisfaction and excitement of both parties! We both have wedding plans of our own, now we are single again - though we will always remain close friends and business associates! I am to marry Le Duc de D'Or Baleine, and my ex-husband will be marrying Sir Charles Dexter, in his/her new identity of Miss "Lulu" Lyndon.
It's a lot of fun being engaged to the wealthiest man in the world! My honeybunch completely understands what a total tart and strumpet I am (that's one of the reasons he fell for me!). But he also loves to see me acting the part of the posh, aristocratic lady - and showing me off to the world as his glamorous trophy bride! Here I am all dolled-up and ready for tonight's round of cocktails, dinner - and whatever other activities may transpire...
Speaking of other activities, I have been so busy with my wedding preparations that I have been unable to spend as much time as usual working at The Salon. Lady Amanda Barclay has been doing a superb job running our operation during my absences, and I have been keeping my hand in (so to speak!) by seeing some of my regular clients.... But I have been candid with my fiancé about my intention to return full-time to my chosen profession after our honeymoon. Like almost all husbands, my honeybunch is completely thrilled by the thought that his lawful wedded wife is also a completely shameless tart!
I think we may soon be seeing a new "wife watcher" at The Salon...!
Toodle Pip!
Love and Kisses to all my Friends and Fans!
xxxxx
Lady Rebecca Georgina Arabella Lyndon
Duchess of Basingstoke
(a hereditary title which I will definitely be keeping!!!)
Done in AI, Finalized in Photoshop
Inspired by the Movie: Nosferatu
In the dim sanctuary of a forgotten library, where towering shelves groan beneath the weight of centuries, he stands — the shadow that wears the shape of a man. His gaze, cold and unyielding, falls upon the trembling figure before him, a pale blossom adrift in a sea of darkness. Moonlight, pale as bone, spills through fractured glass and heavy crimson drapery, casting ghostly fingers across her skin. The candles weep molten gold, their light flickering upon the ancient tomes and the black silhouette that bends toward her. No sound stirs save the whisper of the flame, and in that breathless moment, the air itself seems to wait — for the inevitable touch, for the sealing of her fate beneath the spell of his hunger.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Under the watchful glow of a pale full moon, a regal vampire lord stands before the towering gothic fortress known only as the Bloodkeep. Cloaked in black velvet etched with golden filigree, his crimson eyes pierce the mist with timeless fury and command. The ancient castle looms behind him, spires clawing at the storm-churned sky, its windows glowing faintly like the last heartbeat of forgotten souls. Fog curls at his feet, trees twist like skeletal sentinels, and silence reigns—save for the unspoken promise of darkness yet to come. He is not a shadow of the night—he is its heir.
Finalized Ezio Auditore Costume.
www.nicolasbrunophotography.com
Copyright Nicolas Bruno Photography
All Rights Reserved
Do not use/reproduce any of my images without my consent
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
In a meadow where dreams bloom like glowing petals, a tiny soul races through golden light — chasing not just butterflies, but the joy of being alive. The sky shimmers with wonder, the air hums with enchantment, and every pawstep leaves behind a spark of magic. This is not just a run... it's a celebration of the now, of love, of everything that makes the heart leap.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
In the glowing caverns of Glowroot Reach, Thalithe stands not as ruler, but as rhythm—the heartbeat of a place that dreams in spores. Every strand of moss on her gown, every flicker of biolight on her skin, carries the wisdom of centuries.
She is a mother to memory, a priestess of resonance, and one of the few beings to have touched the Dreamstate of Velthar... and returned knowing what it meant.
This portrait captures her in her element—surrounded by the slow breath of fungal groves, the whispers of drifting spores, and the pulse of the Cradle of Recollection.
From the world of The Emberhollow Chronicles
General Hux declares in a speech to the First Order assembled at Starkiller Base that they are there to witness the end of the New Republic - the government that supports the Resistance. The massive superweapon housed within the planet itself is fired and the blast destroys the entire Hosnian system. The galactic senate and the New Republic starfleet is destroyed. Kylo Ren watches the weapon from the bridge of the Finalizer in silence. Then he heads to Takodana where a spy has reported the presence of the BB unit...
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
This one is specialy done for: Rainbow Bridge Remembrance Day
Where the Rainbow Bridge Shines
“They are never gone, only waiting in the light beyond.”
Across the sky, where sunlight meets eternity, the Rainbow Bridge arcs in radiant colors of love. Upon it walks every companion we have lost, free of pain, free of sorrow, their eyes bright and joyful once more.
Here, a guardian soul waits with wings unfurled — smiling back at us, reminding us that love never dies. The meadows bloom forever, butterflies rise in streams of light, and the promise of reunion glows within every beam of the rainbow.
🌈 Rainbow Bridge Remembrance Day — for every beloved pet, never forgotten, forever loved.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
In the hollowed ruins of an ancient underground cathedral, the lord of House Nocthra stands sentinel. Cloaked in obsidian robes that trail like spilled shadow, his skeletal visage peers through the stillness like a deathless judgment. Thorned armor arcs from his frame in wicked elegance, forged in darkness and crowned with silence. Ghostly teal light spills through collapsed vaults above, illuminating fractured stone and bloodstained earth. The candles flicker low in their iron sconces, but not from wind — from something deeper, older.
Here, time itself kneels.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
When the leaves turn to flame and the sun bleeds into dusk, he walks again. Clad in obsidian filigree and crowned with a burning sigil of conquest, the Autumn Scourge is the living memory of a cursed season — a fallen prince turned arbiter of ruin. His eyes burn with ancestral fire, and his armor whispers of wars written out of history. In the forest’s dying breath, his name is feared as both omen and judgment.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Forged in the abyss where magma meets the sea, she is a vessel of forgotten spells and searing will. Her eyes hold the chill of the ocean’s trench; her touch, the blaze of an ancient flame. Cloaked in obsidian silk and crowned with amethyst fire, she bends the elements not with rage—but with purpose. She is both salvation and oblivion, whispered through shipwreck and storm.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
Nestled deep within Emberhollow lies Feyroot Hollow. Towering bioluminescent mushrooms stretch skyward like silent sentinels, their caps glowing in soft hues of violet and pink, gently raining petals of dreamlight. The moss underfoot sings in faint pulses of magic, while glowing flowers and trickling moonlit streams wind through the forest floor like veins of memory.
At the heart of the Hollow floats the Cradle of Murmurs—a suspended crystal heart of pure aether, beating with the rhythm of the cavern itself. The Noctmew believe this crystal to be a living soul of the Hollow, and perhaps the world itself. Each shimmer it emits is said to be a whisper of the past, a forgotten lullaby, or a prophecy not yet spoken.
The Hollow is more than a place—it’s a sacred echo chamber of dreams and memory. To speak aloud here is considered impolite; to sing is an offering.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Inspired by a Second Life Image of: -AmyElle- : A m y Elle .
Bathed in golden sunlight, a majestic palace rises like a dream from the heart of a flourishing countryside garden. Inspired by the opulence of the Sun King’s Versailles, its arched windows, green shutters, and ivy-draped walls gleam in the soft embrace of dawn. Before it lies a circular stone pond, scattered with golden leaves, reflecting the sky’s warm glow. Marble cherubs and lush flower beds surround the estate—lavender, poppies, and wild blooms burst with vivid color. Towering cypress trees and distant rolling hills complete this idyllic vision of royal tranquility. A scene where time slows, nature sings, and luxury harmonizes with wild beauty.
I first shot this pic one year ago today. I woke up early Christmas morning in Yosemite. I drove to tunnel view to capture the majestic valley under a full moon. Then through teaching myself photoshop, I added the sunrise effects and enhanced the color. At last, I finally feel like I am creating art.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Inspired by a Second Life Image and Reimagined
“Her blade carves silence where even shadows fear to linger.”
From the depths of the crypt emerges a vision of infernal majesty — a demoness wrapped in chains, shadows, and firelight. Her horns curve like obsidian crescents, her gaze burning with violet fury, while the Scythe of the Violet Flame crackles with runes that scream of forgotten power. Sparks rain against her skin as if the weapon itself were alive, hungering for souls.
Around her, the stone halls breathe dread: fractured bones scattered across the floor, walls trembling with echoes of long-dead screams, and sparks illuminating her silhouette like a goddess of ruin. She is not merely a warrior — she is the executioner of silence, the flame of endless night, the violet sovereign of death’s dominion.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
In the blackened heart of a sunken cove, where no sunlight dares to reach, Neravine drifts in eternal stillness. Once a guardian of tides and tidesong, now she is bound by sorrow — her body adorned in glistening black kelp, bioluminescent pearls, and coral filigree, as if the ocean itself tried to preserve her memory in beauty.
Her eyes are closed, yet her presence lingers like a song half-heard — a warning to those who wander too deep. Her hair floats like an ink cloud in the current, entwined with the skeletal branches of deep-sea flora. Around her, the reef holds its breath. There is no motion, only quiet. Only remembrance.
They say the sea blooms where she rests, and that ships begin to rot when they pass above her grave.
But when the tides shift and the moon wanes thin… sometimes she opens her eyes.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop and Photoscape X
this image captures the Batmobile at the moment of transition — barreling through a glowing holographic forest barrier at the edge of Gotham’s ruinscape.
The illusion fractures in a web of light as the sleek gothic-machine crosses into hidden territory — part cathedral, part cybernetic shell, glowing with defiant energy. The Batmobile’s sharpened fins and molten thrusters leave streaks of ember across cracked stone, illuminating the ghost of nature in digital disguise.
This piece fuses neo-gothic architecture, holographic sci-fi, and dark heroism in a single cinematic instant — where shadows, myth, and machine converge.
✨ AI-enhanced. Vision-driven. Shadow-born.
Germany, Hamburg/Wedel, the tall ship "Peking", a steel-hulled four-masted barque. The Peking is back in its home port after more than 70 years & is to become the landmark of the new German Port Museum. "Peking" is the old German name for the city of "Beijing".
1852 Carl Laeisz entered the family business & turned the F. Laeisz Company into a shipping business. 1857 they ordered a barque & named her "Pudel", the nickname of Carl's wife Sophie. From the mid-1880th on it was customary that all their ships had names starting with "P", they became known as "the P-line".
Technical data of the "Peking"
Maiden voyage - May 16, 1911 to Chile
Type of ship - four-masted steel barque
Measurement - 3,100 GRT
Length - 115 mtr
Width - 14.40 mtr
Draft - max. 7.24 mtr
Mast height - 51 mtr above deck
Maximum speed -17 knots
Crew members while still in service
- 31 as cargo ship & 74 as sailing training ship
......👉…..the long voyage of the over 100 years old Peking
back to their home port.......👉…..👉…..👉…..👉…..👉
1911, the Peking, built for 680.000 Marks at that time & launched in February 1911 leaving Hamburg for her maiden voyage to Valparaiso in May of the same year.
She was particularly suitable for transport of nitrate/saltpetre from Chile to Europe. In the following few years she sailed to ports such as Valparaiso, Taltal, Talcahuano, Iquique & Mejillones, returning habitually home to Hamburg.
After the outbreak of World War the tall ship was confined at Valparaiso & remained in Chile for the duration of the war.
Afterward the Treaty of Versailles after the First World War stipulated that the Peking had to be handed over to the Kingdom of Italy as war reparation. Nevertheless, since Italy had no use for the ship, the Peking remained in London for the time being.
1923 F. Laeisz was able to re-purchase its ship for £ 8.500 & once again transporting nitrate/saltpeter from Chile to Europe, now also called ports in the Netherlands & San Antonio/USA.
1927, after a voyage to Chile, the Peking returned to Hamburg, where at Blohm & Voss Shipyard the poop deck, a deck that forms the roof of a cabin built in the rear part, was extended by ten metres, as the Peking was to be used from then on as a cargo carrying sailing training vessel. The ship now had room for 31 sailors & 43 naval cadets.
1932, she was sold for £6,250 to Shaftesbury Homes & Arethusa Training Ship Co. in England, towed to Greenhithe & renamed Arethusa II, moored alongside the existing Arethusa I. In July 1933, she was moved to a new permanent mooring off Upnor on the River Medway, used as a children's home & training school. During World War II she served in the Royal Navy as "HMS Pekin".
1939, when World War II began, Arethusa was requisitioned by the Royal Navy, brought to Salcombe & got the name HMS PEKING, since there was already a ship with the name HMS Arethusa.
After the end of World War II, the ship was handed over back to the Shaftesbury Homes & Arethusa Training Ship Co. & returned to be named Arethusa, towed back to Upnor, continuing serving as a training ship until 1974.
1974, due to high maintenance costs, the old tall ship was retired, the organization decided to part with her & she almost returned to Hamburg at that time, but experts were of the opinion that she would not survive the tow to Hamburg.
The Arethusa II was sold for £ 70,000 to as "Peking" to the South Street Seaport Museum in New York City, where she remained for the next four decades.
1975, after a shipyard stay of a year the Arethusa was towed to New York by the Dutch tug "Utrecht" & got her original name Peking back, she was also painted in the original colours of F. Laeisz & served as a museum ship.
Unfortunately over the years however, the museum was not able to maintain the two large ships it owned & as a consequence the essential preservation & repair work was gradually more & more neglected. As the Peking was in poor condition, the upper deck had to be lined with plywood panels, decks in the lower holds were dilapidated & closed to the public.
However, the Seaport NYC did not see Peking as part of its long-term operational plans & was planning to send vessel to the scrap yard.
Beginning in 2002, members of the association negotiated with the museum for the return of Peking to its original home port of Hamburg. Initially, due to the museums high asking price a negotiation could not be finalized.
After the realization it was no longer possible to sell the ship due to her need for repair, the interested parties in Hamburg asked for restoration quotations from local yards.
At the same time, the association looked for funds for the transport, because of the vessels condition it has to be carried out by using a dock ship crossing the Atlantic & for the complete renovation of the structure & rigging. An attempt to raise the necessary funds from the Hamburg business community was not success.
2012 an offer to return the ship to Hamburg, where she was originally built, as a gift from the city of New York, was contingent upon raising donations in Germany to ensure the preservation of the vessel.
2015 it was declared that the quay in New York had to be vacated by the end of June, which would have meant the final end for the Peking at a junkyard.
November 2015 the Budget Committee of the German Bundestag decided to provide € 120 million of federal funds for a new, the third, large German Port Museum in the Hamburg port area. The main attraction would be the restored Peking. The "Maritim Foundation" purchased the ship for US$ 100.
September 2016 she was taken to Caddell Dry Dock, Staten Island to spend the winter.
July 2017, she was docked & transported at a cost of some €1 million, on the deck of the semi-submersible heavy-lift ship Combi Dock III across the Atlantic.
August, 2017, the Peking was transferred to the Peters Shipyard located at Wewelsfleth/Schleswig-Holstein for a three-year refurbishment at a cost of € 38 million.
The restoration included review of rigging, double floor steel plates, dismounting & remount of all masts, docking in dry-dock, renewal of the steel structure, removal of the cement that filled the lower three & a half mtr of the hull, painting, wood work & overall refurbishment. The ship spent about two years in a dry dock. The Peking was re-floated on September 2018 with primer paint Hull. Teak was reinstalled on deck.
Finally on September 7, 2020 the ship was "sailing", pulled by a tug boat in front & one tug boat in the back to assist the manoeuvring, to the German Port Museum at the Hamburg Harbour.
Four of the Flying P-Liners still exist today:
Peking; since September 2020 as museum ship in Hamburg, Germany.
Pommern; museum ship in Mariehamn, Finland.
Passat; museum ship in Lübeck's sea resort Travemünde, Germany.
Padua; the only ship still active & today a school ship sailing as "Kruzenshtern" under a Russian flag & visits Hamburg every year during the Harbour Birthday.
….& last but not least,
....in the early 1980s I visited the "Peking" in New York, not a bit thought that I would live & work a few years in Peking/Beijing in the 2000s, even less, that I would see the renovated Peking, shining in its old splendour, sailing up the River Elbe to its new/old port in 2020.
👉 One World one Dream,
🙏...Danke, Xièxie 谢谢, Thanks, Gracias, Merci, Grazie, Obrigado, Arigatô, Dhanyavad, Chokrane to you & over
14 million visits in my photostream with countless motivating comments
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
Born from the collapse of a dying star within the Veil Nebula, Solara Nyx is the celestial sovereign who wields the raw fire of creation itself. Her crown is forged from solar flame, her armor etched with constellations lost to time. She is both guardian and destroyer — a deity of light and entropy who drifts across galaxies, awakening ancient energies long buried in the cosmic deep.
Solara’s presence warps the very fabric of space; planets burn brighter in her wake, nebulae swirl with reverence, and time itself bends under her flame-touched gaze. Though her visage is serene, behind her closed eyes lies the force of supernovae and the memory of aeons. She is myth, power, and prophecy incarnate — the eternal flare that lights the dark between stars.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Inspired by and Reimagined
“When the last mask falls, only hunger remains.”
When the veil between life and undeath shatters, the vampire lord sheds his mortal guise and ascends into his truest shape — a skeletal titan crowned in shadow and flame. His chest burns with the Bloodstone Heart, a cursed jewel that pulses with the lifeblood of centuries. Beneath the scarlet moon, his fangs stretch into wicked talons of hunger, his armor fuses with bone, and his very presence commands the storm of bats and smoke.
This is no longer the count who prowls the castle halls — this is the Crimson Apex, the ultimate form of vampiric dominion. A nightmare not born, but forged from every soul he has devoured.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Again Crow Fanart: Figured out the whole afternoon to get this one done.
A Tribute to Brandon Lee – “30 Hours of Pain”
In honoring the legacy of The Crow and the unforgettable presence Brandon Lee brought to the role of Eric Draven, I’ve done my best to recreate a moment from the film that still resonates with raw intensity — the “30 hours of pain” scene.
Let me be upfront: AI art, even at its most advanced, has limitations. While I’ve worked to stay as true as possible to Brandon Lee’s likeness, expression, and essence, it’s not an exact replication — and out of respect, it never should be. This isn’t about replacing him, but about honoring what he gave us: a performance filled with beauty, sorrow, rage, and love.
This scene — when Eric places his hands on the man who helped brutalize Shelley, transferring all of her pain in a single, devastating surge — is one of the most powerful acts of poetic justice ever captured on film. Eric doesn’t just seek revenge; he feels the agony that Shelley endured. He becomes her voice, her scream, her final cry — and he forces her abuser to feel what she felt.
“I have something to give you. I don’t want it anymore. 30 hours of pain, all at once, all for you.”
Those words aren’t just chilling — they’re sacred. They mark the moment when justice transcends violence, when vengeance becomes an expression of grief and love. The power of that scene isn’t in brutality, but in the emotional truth: that pain should not go unanswered, and love, even shattered by death, still fights back.
This piece is a visual tribute to that moment — not to glorify violence, but to illuminate the emotional gravity behind it.
To Brandon Lee: thank you for what you gave us. You didn’t just play Eric Draven — you became a symbol of beauty, rage, and redemption.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
"Not all prophecy speaks.
Look into it, and you may glimpse the self you abandoned.
The choice you never made.
The name you were afraid to become.
And once the Well shows you that…
you are no longer the only one who knows.
— Attributed to Vashtel Aerenyx, though the echo claims she never said it aloud
Some burns.
And some wait for you to speak first."
Beneath the Sepulchral Spire, where silence is sacred and memory is flammable, lies the Atramentum Well — a basin of black flame that does not warm, but remembers.
Done in AI, Finalized in Photoshop
"Small in stature, boundless in magic."
In the heart of an ancient wizard’s library, a small feline witch sits poised atop a table strewn with spellbooks and parchment maps. Draped in a flowing robe of deep purple velvet, her golden eyes gleam like molten suns, reflecting the soft flicker of candlelight. Around her neck hangs a crystal vial swirling with violet magic, pulsing faintly with arcane energy. Every detail — from the embroidered silver runes on her hat to the weathered spines of the books — speaks of centuries of mystic study. She is both adorable and formidable, a master of spells in miniature form.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
The Hollow Veil
Lumina Aureveil
The Solitary Flame
✨ World Gift
Stilllight Touch Calms grief, panic, and rage with her mere presence. Breathing becomes easier. Silence becomes safety.
Palm of Unspoken EaseHer touch dissolves emotional turmoil and memory-born pain. No words are needed — only willingness.
Sanctumglow
A gentle light from within that wards off nightmare flickers and quiets volatile Echoes. It does not protect with force, but with presence.
🌙 Appearance
Slender, radiant woman draped in translucent memorycloth robes of pearl, dusk-violet, and gold.
Long, glowing blond hair like sunlight passed through tears.
Eyes: soft silver with golden flecks — seeing pain before it's spoken.
The mist does not avoid her — it folds around her gently, like a child curling into comfort.
Role in the Veil
Not a guardian or queen, but a still point in the dreamstorm.
Sanctuaries grow around her, unbidden, like flowers leaning toward warmth.
Some say they see her only once — when they are lost or nearly undone — and forget her face, but remember peace.
Connection to Mistwisp Familiars
Mistwisps are drawn to her presence.
Where others see flickers, they sleep in her robes, as if their scattered hearts find form near hers.
📝 Quote
“She does not quiet the storm. She lets the storm remember why it forgot to rest.”
I hit a wall while working on the Fireball, which is why there has been very little change since the last WIP pic. That gave me an excuse to take a break and start on the other Aces as well.
Green Ace and Black Ace are complete! Yellow Ace is about halfway done. Not pictured are Red and Blue Ace.
I have been tinkering with Torra Doza's Blue Ace racer since I started on the Fireball (around a month now) but it has proven extremely difficult because of it's rounded shape. It's basically a Porsche 917K but in space, and Porsches are difficult to get right with LEGO because of the insane curves.
Just this morning I finalized a design for Blue Ace's front, a heavily complex design that has been giving me headaches for a week now. All I have left to do is reinforce the internal structure along with the cockpit, and then build the rest of the craft which shouldn't be too hard.
And then build Red Ace, which should be fairly easy.
So I guess a batch of these racers from Star Wars: Resistance will be published... this weekend? Next week?
Soon...
(Also, yes. Custom stickers!)
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop and Photoscape.
Xuneshava is a graceful, ethereal spirit-matriarch — part fox, part feline — who moves through the Hollow Veil like a breath of silent purpose. She is said to have given the first shape to kindness in mist, birthing the Mistwisp Familiars and guiding lost hopes into bloom.
She is neither worshipped nor commanded. Those who encounter her rarely speak afterward — not out of fear, but reverence. To witness Xuneshava is to feel the ache of forgotten wonder and the hush of a dream daring to return.
🌙 Physical Form
Size: Comparable to a large lynx, impossibly light
Fur: Flowing mist-silk in hues of pink, teal, and white, veiled in faint sparkles of dreamlight
Eyes: Shimmering twilight pools — teal fading to lavender, always watchful
Crown: A delicate circlet of moonblossoms that shifts with emotion
Tail: One immense mist-tail that splits into a hundred wisps — each a forgotten lullaby
Abilities
Mistwomb — Shapes pure mist into new Mistwisp Familiars
Blossomveil — Surrounds herself with a protective aura that nurtures memory gardens
Shadowpetal Step — Instantly moves to wherever a lost hope flickers in the Veil
Memorygarden Breath — Breathes life into withering Echoes and fractured dreams
🌿 Nature and Role
Xuneshava is the gardener of renewal. She does not fight or flee — she listens, roots, and resurrects. Where she walks, the Veil breathes softer. Where she lingers, forgotten dreams regain color.
Some say her presence is the echo of the first safe place ever dreamed. Others believe she was born from the first child’s wish to never be alone again.
🌟 Quote
“One tail, countless memories — Xuneshava breathes through the Hollow Veil, a living bloom woven from mist, hope, and forgotten dreams.”
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
From a throne draped in crimson velvet and flanked by the remnants of fallen souls, the Demon Queen reigns in unshaken silence. Her violet gown shimmers like starlight woven through shadow, hugging her flawless form with dark majesty. Obsidian horns crown her raven hair, and her infernal wings arch wide — a testament to her power and lineage.
Her eyes, sharp as daggers and deep as the void, pierce through all illusion. Every curve, every breath, is a declaration of sovereignty — she is beauty, she is fear, she is the final word in a kingdom ruled by desire and dread. The candlelight trembles before her. The skulls at her feet bear witness to the countless who knelt... and never rose again.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop and Photoscape X
In this ascended form, Zareth’Kyra is no longer a creature of flesh or memory — she has become flame incarnate. Her sapphire-scaled face glows with molten energy, each scale etched like a celestial rune. Golden, crown-like structures emerge organically from her skin, as though molten metal was shaped by divine fire and fused into her very being.
Her eyes burn like miniature suns — vertical slits glowing with the fury of forgotten ages. They reflect not just power, but the ashes of everything that dared defy her. Glowing ember-particles drift around her like a solar storm, illuminating the shadows with silent reverence.
She no longer whispers.
Her presence roars — a symphony of rebirth and reckoning.
Where she stands, the air smolders.
Where she breathes, old gods tremble.
She has not come to judge.
She has come to reshape — with ash as clay, and flame as law.
To finalize the National Anthem during the Canada Day opening celebrations, Aerial flight team The Snowbirds did the signature fanning out stunt over the Peace Tower as usual.
This year I was in the right place, but the tall clouds behind me had put a shadow in our area and took all the building light.
Maybe next year I'll grab a really wide lens and get in close.
So...... this is a basic account, eh?
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
"He does not sit upon a throne.
He anchors it.
Archon Seraphael, sovereign of the Luminarch Covenant, speaks not in commands, but in constants. His presence defines the space around him — the flame in his chest a silent sun, the golden visor shielding others from seeing too much truth at once.
Behind him, six wings burn like banners of alignment. Around him, the Hall of Harmonic Judgment listens… and echoes only what is deserved.
He is not justice.
He is what justice remembers."
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Inspired by and Reimagined
In the heart of an enchanted forest where bioluminescent flora cast kaleidoscopic light through twilight haze, a young elven sorceress stands locked in a silent bond with her draconic companion. Her eyes shimmer like polished amber, glowing with ancestral fire, framed by elaborate braids woven with gold beads and celestial trinkets. Her cloak, a deep maroon etched with ancient runes, flows like blood-ink through the saturated air.
The dragon she cradles is a radiant marvel — its scales glisten with hues of galactic sapphire and amethyst, refracting nebulae under each pulse of light. Horns curve like obsidian lightning bolts from its sleek skull, while its molten eyes hold the wisdom of stars extinguished long ago. Every ridge, wing fold, and claw is rendered in breathtaking, hyperreal texture — both alien and divine.
Around them, the forest pulses with sorcery: glowing lanterns float mid-air like enchanted will-o'-the-wisps, and fireflies swirl in orbital dances of magenta and gold. The moment captures not merely a portrait, but a prophecy — one of flame, fate, and a bond that defies realms.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
The Black Steamheart, leviathan of iron and fire, looms above the broken chasm docks of Port Nocturne — a skyport suspended on black iron struts over a smoking abyss.
Thunder cracks across a storm-lit sky as the beast exhales smoke from a dozen furnace towers, steam bleeding from vent slits like a mechanical dragon breathing deep. Its hull glows from within — thousands of rivet-lights flickering like the eyes of the damned. Gears grind, chains rattle, cranes scream.
Below it, torch-lit gantries swarm with soot-covered workers and plague-masked engineers, shadows scrambling beneath the machine that owns them. Cranes hoist iron crates stamped with forbidden sigils, and refinery chimneys belch trails of glowing soot into the bruised twilight.
This is not a city. This is a war machine’s cathedral.