View allAll Photos Tagged Finalization
29 March
Transfer of passenger and provisions from the Zaandam to the Rotterdam completed at 17:30.
18:30
Captains Announcement:
The plan to transit the Panama Canal has been finalized. Here are the mandatory requirements dictated by the Panama Canal authorities:
Stay in your room.
Immediately turn off your veranda light if you have one.
Close your veranda or porthole curtains now and under no circumstance open them until the canal transit is complete and I announce it is permissible to open them.
NO exceptions.
There is to be no deck access for crew.
21:25 -
The Zaandam & Rotterdam moved into the Panama Canal west entrance.
So nothing - no visual, no photos, nothing until we exited the canal 30 March and were well into the Caribbean sea.
It was a rough canal transit. At each lock start/stop the rear of Rotterdam felt like a Mexican taxi from years ago - no springs, no shocks, plywood seats and driving on a cobblestone street. Lost track of how many times this happened.
05:00
The Rotterdam exited the east side of the Panama Canal.
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Permission to use photo.
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03 June, 2022.
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Hello Ted
Greetings from Chile. I am a journalist and I co wrote a book about the Zaandam saga. The book "Cabin Fever" is coming out in a few weeks. I am writing you to see if we could use a couple of your photos for articles about our book. For example, Bloomberg Businessweek and The Guardian are planning on running articles about the book - Cabin Fever
I have no idea what they pay for pics but I am sure it's not much. That said, it could be a great chance to get your pics out to a huge audience. But only if you are interested!
Please let me know what your thoughts are. We of course could offer you a free hard cover copy of the book signed by both authors as an incentive, but really it comes down to your personal choice about sharing pics.
Have a good day
Jonathan Franklin - author and investigative reporter
THE REPORT:
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17 June, 2022.
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Hello Ted,
Fantastic photos! The story is coming out and thank you so much for helping the world understand this important story.
Link here
www.bloomberg.com/news/features/2022-06-17/covid-cruise-s...
Jonathan Franklin
Trying to finalize some designs I started last year, but didn't get to, for Christmas gifts this year. The saucer was the hardest to do trying to get the center indentation right and use royal icing. This was actually done 3-D style with a small cookie stick baked in the cookie cup, and a hole in the middle of the saucer. The spoon is a small cocktail spoon dipped in chocolate.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
"Some spells require nine lives to perfect."
In the quiet glow of candlelight, the black cat wizard leans over an open grimoire, his golden eyes gleaming with intelligence and mischief. Draped in deep violet robes stitched with runes, a cluster of enchanted charms and a glowing amethyst pendant sway from his neck. Beside him, a skeletal bat-familiar bubbles in a brass cauldron, its eyes alight with violet fire, sending plumes of magic into the ivy-draped workshop. Shelves heavy with herbs, jars, and spell components line the walls, while strange shadows dance from the flicker of the flame. The air hums with secrets — here, every page turned could change the fate of the night.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Bathed in ancient blood magic and bound to an infernal pact, Vel'Zhara, the Crimson Vow, stands as a living weapon of ruin. Her ornate obsidian armor pulses with demonic sigils, each one carved into her flesh during forbidden rites. Twin horns spiral from her skull like a crown of damnation, framing eyes that burn with the fire of sealed realms. With a cursed blade forged in the heart of a dying star, she walks the ruins of broken empires, an omen of vengeance, power, and seduction. Every step she takes cracks the veil between worlds — and every soul she slays binds her closer to her final ascension.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Fanart
Eric Draven returns from the abyss, cloaked in regal black and deep violet armor, etched with silver filigree and crowned with death’s own motifs. His gaze pierces the veil, glowing with ghostly fury as he stands solemnly beside his own gravestone. A lone crow watches from above, sentinel to the sorrow and vengeance he carries.
The graveyard sleeps in silence—twisted trees reaching like claws under the cold moon, shadows crawling between forgotten tombs. This is no ordinary night. This is the night the dead remember.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop and Photoscape X
Inspirered by the classic Horror Movie The Car (1977) with James Brolin
Out of the storm and into your soul — Hell Drive brings terror to the open road. Forged in darkness and powered by something far from natural, this matte-black monstrosity hunts beneath lightning-laced green skies. Its twin red eyes pierce through smoke and silence, casting fire on the cracked highway like a warning from another world. It doesn’t chase. It chooses. And when the red glow catches you — you’re already too late.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoscape X and Photoshop.
Gloamfeather:
A half-cat, half-crow ethereal being.
Lower body: agile feline form cloaked in mist.
Upper body: crow wings, ruffled and torn like broken memories.
A ghostly glow radiates from its upper form, pulsing softly.
Meaning of the Name: "Gloam" refers to the twilight — the time between day and night — while "Feather" speaks to its crow wings and the fragile, fleeting nature of memory. Thus, the Gloamfeather is a creature of the twilight, carrying forgotten dreams and sorrow through the mist.
The Hollow Veil
Obliterator Bricks had the best idea by far so here’s the outline of the contest. There will be two categories. The first is you can build any military vehicle(even Star Wars or a sci-fi stuff), and I mean anything but you have to build a scene to go with it. Doesn’t have to be anything special it just has to go with the vehicle you built. The best combination of vehicle and scene will win the main prize which I haven’t really thought of yet. The second category will be a mini/micro build. You can build any vehicle for this as well but there’s no scene required and the prize is the mini char I posted. You will have until May 4th cuz idk. Thank you so much for 600 and happy building!
also the pic for those interested is me and my lil 702. Went to my friends ranch down in Copperas Cove Texas for the start of spring break and now I’m sunburned so yay😒 It was still really fun tho. Hope y’all have a safe and fun spring break!
The Legs have finally been corrected, and now My Mr. Freeze is done. The leg design belongs the Zeessi, a friend of mine and a known hardsuit builder. Here's the suit he used the legs on:
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Inspired by and Reimagined
Emerging from the haunted thickets of an ancient, bewitched forest, the Ember Veil Enchantress commands the raw currents of forbidden magic. Her crimson hair billows like wildfire through fog-drenched air, a fiery contrast to the obsidian ritual cloak etched with ancient sigils. Amethyst runes flicker across her arms and robes, revealing traces of powerful enchantments woven directly into her flesh.
Adorned in sacred bone totems, blackened silver, and occult emblems, she is the embodiment of a forgotten order—both feared and revered. A pulsating sphere of violet energy swirls in her outstretched hand, casting flashes of arcane lightning through the gnarled forest. Her eyes pierce the veil between realms, reading fate and bending it to her will.
Done in AI, Finalized in Photoshop
Clad in opulent Victorian armor etched with arcane patterns, Doctor Doom stands regal and foreboding in the heart of a gaslit city veiled in fog. His mask, a fusion of classical Doom menace glows with eerie green eyes beneath a sweeping cloak of emerald silk. Towering gothic architecture looms around him, lanterns flicker like dying stars, and the clocktower behind seems frozen in time—marking the eternal reign of this iron sovereign. A perfect blend of nobility and dread in a steampunk-shadowed empire.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop and Photoscape X.
Beneath the ruined stone of a forgotten world, she walks. Cloaked in black and bound in armor adorned with gilded thorns and bone, she is not a queen — she is a verdict.
Torches flicker along the crypt walls, casting shadows across the broken ground, where skulls whisper the names of the fallen. Her gaze is lowered, not in humility, but in promise — of wrath yet to be delivered.
This is her domain now.
And the dead do not rest — they serve.
“In silence she rose, in death she reigns.”
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
In the corners of forgotten homes, in rooms where the light never reaches, something stirs. Varnhusk is no demon, no ghost—he is a collector. Wrapped in a robe of frayed cloth and silence, he moves between the walls, watching, listening, waiting.
He doesn't wear his trophies. He stores them.
Teeth. Collected not out of hunger, but obsession.
He removes them gently, with tools of silver and string.
He catalogues them in little boxes, each labeled in a script no one remembers.
And when he finds a lie, he leaves a smile behind—one too wide, made of air.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
A massive, ethereal dragon that glides silently through the valley’s skies. Its wings stir no wind, its roar has never been heard. Said to be the embodiment of a voice that was never allowed to be spoken — its scales shimmer with unfinished thoughts and its breath is a mist that carries memory.
“It was born of the scream that never left your lips.”
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
In the heart of Gotham's forgotten greenhouse, where roses bloom from ruin and stone gargoyles watch in silence, Batman and Poison Ivy meet beneath a canopy of glass and vines. Crimson petals litter the floor like spilled blood, while the air pulses with tension — nature’s fury against the dark knight’s resolve. Ivy, crowned in thorns and draped in living green, stands unyielding; her power rooted deep in the soil beneath them. Batman, cloaked in rain and shadow, mirrors her defiance. This is no simple clash — it is a battle of ideologies, blooming within gothic decay. One moment before conflict, or perhaps redemption.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
Suspended like a cursed stalactite from the heart of The Witherdeep, the Woundspire pulses with an otherworldly violet glow—an ancient shard of pure arcane trauma. No one knows who carved it, or if it was ever meant to exist, but it bleeds magic into the stone like a splinter in reality itself.
The surrounding mushrooms—once kin to Feyroot’s gentle bloomcaps—have mutated beyond recognition, their canopies blooming with false stars and echoing with hollow whispers. They drink from the Woundspire’s aura, becoming sentient and fevered, muttering spells in forgotten tongues.
Beneath the Woundspire, rivers of Hexflow—a tar-like magical substance—cut jagged paths through brown moss and obsidian shale. The air itself distorts here. Time slows. Thoughts loop. The bravest Spikkin and the most curious Noctmew know better than to enter unguarded, for the Woundspire remembers you…
Done in AI, Finalized in Photoshop
Emerging from a web of obsidian silk and shadowlight, The Widow Mask is the veiled queen of the Hollow Web — a demoness cloaked in bone and vengeance. Her face, a haunting exoskeletal mask carved with cracks of ancient torment, radiates with a fiery red glow from within, as though her soul burns like a spider’s venomous bite. Ornate horns spiral from her brow, entangled with arcane sigils and a skeletal spider emblem that pulses with cursed energy. Adorned in flowing robes that whisper in unnatural patterns, she lingers where the veil between realms frays, weaving nightmares into the minds of those who dare glance her way.
She is not a creature of flesh — but of curse, bone, and infinite patience.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Beneath the shattered arches of a once-holy sanctuary, she rises—clad in obsidian armor, crowned with the relics of vanquished kings. The Hollow Queen, sovereign of silence and decay, calls upon the embers of the forgotten world. Her eyes burn not with wrath, but with dominion—her presence alone bending the very air into reverence and fear. Each skull upon her crown whispers a name erased from time, and every step she takes echoes like the toll of a final bell.
Inspired by and Reimagined
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
Summoned when balance tips too far, the Briarthorn Golem is no passive watcher—it is the walking wrath of the wild. Forged from twisted roots, living wood, and centuries of moss and fungus, this towering construct strides through ancient groves as a living embodiment of nature’s fury and memory.
Glowing embers flicker within its bark-wrapped chest, and golden fungi sprout like war paint across its limbs. Where it walks, saplings rise. Where it strikes, stone splits. It does not speak—it groans like falling trees and thunders like distant avalanches.
Sorted out what I think I can bring, got my MOC Cards done up online, and cleaned off a little dust from a couple that had been sitting for too long.
Good news: my fiancee is coming along! She's not a huge Lego nerd like me, but she likes it well enough to let me keep buying it, and she wants to hang out in Seattle. Should be a good time.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
She arrives without warning—when the sky is heavy with snow and the world holds its breath. Crysalune glides across the frozen landscape like a whispered memory, her body a sculpture of ice and moonlight. Wings stretch like frost-laced silk, and her gaze holds the hush of ancient winters.
Her breath carries no flame, no frost—only stillness. A silence that pauses time, quiets hearts, and leaves even the wind too stunned to move.
She is not a destroyer. She is the reminder that even in a world of fire and fury… peace is possible.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Beneath the crushing weight of the ocean, a long-lost German U-boat descends into eternal shadow — its steel hull cloaked in deep-sea corrosion, every rivet a scar of wartime memory. Bioluminescent trails surge from its ballast vents, casting an eerie turquoise glow across the abyss. Figures stand motionless atop the deck — spectral sailors, barely formed from mist and memory, frozen in time.
The conning tower juts upward like a forgotten monument, its antennas stretching into dark currents. Faint flickers of ghostlight pulse from the shattered communications array, echoing long-dead signals. Below, the seabed swirls with silt, disturbed by the silent churn of a vessel that should no longer move.
It is not merely a wreck — it is a myth drifting through the deep, the bones of war clad in shadow, haunting the silence with a hum of phantom engines.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Inspired by Kraven the Hunter and Fanart
Deep within the emerald labyrinth of Borneo’s jungles, Kraven the Hunter stalks his prey — not from hunger, but from the thrill of the hunt. His massive frame, carved from years of relentless pursuit, is draped in the golden mane of a lion, each strand whispering tales of past victories. Sunlight spears through the canopy, glinting off the fangs and claws strung around his neck, trophies from beasts that now exist only in legend.
At his side, a black panther moves in silent synchrony, its amber eyes fixed on the shadows ahead, every step a ghost’s tread. The humid air carries the scent of moss, rain, and danger, and the jungle itself seems to hold its breath. For when Kraven hunts, the forest becomes his domain, and in his domain, there is no escape.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
"It does not fly through space. It carves through time."
The Eventshell Mk.V is not a starfighter. It’s an anomaly wearing a hull.
Developed in orbital silence under Project FRAYLINE, the Mk.V is a prototype tachyon-pulse interceptor, designed not to chase targets — but to predict them. Outfitted with phase-glide engines, gravitational pin cores, and an AI that dreams in equations, it warps its own trajectory mid-maneuver. To an observer, it doesn't accelerate — it appears where it has already decided to be.
Onboard systems record no true flight. Only results.
Where its earlier iterations failed — either vaporized on activation or lost in chronal drift — Mk.V succeeded. At a cost.
Now it patrols the edge of orbital silence, hunting pre-echoes of threats that haven't yet launched. Engines scream like reversed thunder.
Class: Tactical Chrono-Interceptor
Designation: Eventshell Mk.V
Drive Type: Tri-Core Tachyon Splice Engine
Origin Node: Red Verge Blacksite | Project FRAYLINE
Status: Active — Unregistered in realspace telemetry
AI-generated via Mystic 2.5. A weapon that arrives before war begins.
Excerpt from stmarysrcchurch.ca:
The First Church
On August 16, 1854, land for the church on the southeast corner of Weber and Young Streets in downtown Berlin, was purchased for $200.00 from David Weber. The purchase was finalized the same year Berlin was incorporated as a village on January 1, 1854.
The church was completed in 1856 and blessed by Bishop Farrell, the first Bishop of Hamilton, and dedicated to Our Blessed Mother, under the title of St. Mary of the Seven Dolors. The church, not including the sanctuary or tower, measured 80 by 40 feet. A small room was added on the west side, to serve as a Sacristy and provide sleeping quarters for the priest.
In 1871 the sanctuary was added to the church and adorned with beautiful stained glass windows from Holland. Two of these windows were later installed in the new church and a third one, the "Pieta" was stored away.
A large pipe organ, with a water motor, was installed in 1883 for a cost of $1,750.00. This organ was later rebuilt and enlarged and placed in the new church.
The Present Church
On June 26, 1892, a meeting was held in the church to discuss a building fund for a new church.
By 1899, sufficient funds were raised to purchase property adjoining the church land from John Fennell for $7,500.00. On Sunday, May 27, of the following year, the project was begun. After every Mass that day, all the parishioners went in a body to the building site and each one dug a shovel full of earth. Each of the school children had been equipped with a toy shovel tied with a red ribbon bow, so that they could share in the momentous experience of turning sod for the church. On September 30, 1900, Bishop T. J. Dowling laid the cornerstone, and Father John Kosinski, C.R., delivered the sermon. The silver trowel used by Bishop Dowling was later presented to Sheriff John Motz, the oldest member of the building committee, after whose death it was passed on to Mr. George C. H. Lang. The six parishioners who signed the address to Bishop Dowling on this occasion had been present at the laying of the cornerstone of the first church in 1854.
In late autumn 1903 the church was completed. On December 13, His Excellency, the Most Reverend Donato Sbaretti, Papal Delegate at Ottawa, together with Prelates, priests and people from far and near, dedicated the new edifice under the same title as the first church.
The new church had been planned by A. W. Holmes of Toronto. Caspar Braun had the masonry contract and William Forwell was the carpentry contractor. The original plans of the church included three steeples, as can be seen on the original architect's drawing, hanging in the church museum. The spires, however, could not be added in time for the opening, and it was later decided to omit them entirely.
The church is Gothic in style, in the shape of a Latin Cross, having a large tower on the front right corner and a smaller one on the left. Four sets of double doors are at the front, with a large rose window over the two centre ones. The church is 186 feet long. The nave is 61 feet wide and the transept is 92 feet in width. At the front, the church is 100 feet wide. The seating accommodation, excluding the gallery, is for 1,000 persons.
The church was well furnished through substantial donations by parishioners, the Choir and the Church Societies. These gifts provided statues, stained glass windows, holy water fonts, candelabra, altar candle holders and other essentials. Outstanding among the personal gifts were the Fourteen Stations of the Cross, presented by the wife of Dr. Anthony Kaiser, nee Mary Lang a sister of George C. H. Lang. The main altar, started by Nicholas Durrer of Formosa, was completed after his death by his son, Walter. It was donated by the ladies of the parish. The organ which had been in the old church was rebuilt and enlarged and placed in the new church, together with a water motor, purchased some five years earlier, to pump the organ. Two bells were placed in the tower of the church. The smaller bell, named St. Joseph and the larger, named St. Mary, had been moved from the old church. The church was heated by a fan system, still reputed to be one of the finest to be found.
The total cost of the new church was approximately $90,000.00.
Father Theobald Spetz, C.R., became pastor in 1911 and had the church decorated in 1912 by Signor Ilario Panzironi, a Roman artist of New York, for $6,000.00. The Gothic vault with its twelve large panels was nicely suited to hold life size group paintings. Since the church is dedicated to the Sorrowful Mother, portrayals of her Seven Sorrows dominate the ceiling. The remaining five panels received paintings of The Annunciation, The Nativity, The Coronation, The Resurrection and The Ascension. Other improvements such as wainscoting and new lighting fixtures came to $4,000.00.
On August 4, 1948, the installation of a new Casavant Pipe organ was completed. It was dedicated on September 12, 1948, as a memorial to the men of the parish who gave their lives in World War II. A plaque placed behind the organ lists their names.
A Miracle at St. Mary's
In 1892, a 9 year old boy was told by his father that his mother would die that day (she had just given birth, with complications). Devastated the child ran to St. Mary's his parish church and kneeling in front of the statue of the Mother with 7 swords piercing her heart he cried and begged her to save his mother. In return he promised Our Blessed Mother that one day when he grew up he would do something BIG for the church. His mother survived.
His name was Ambrose Mayer. When he grew up he joined the Servite order and was ordained at the Cathedral of Our Mother of Sorrows in Chicago. He was then sent to Oregon where he purchased a piece of land from the railroad and built the National Shrine to Our Sorrowful Mother in Portland.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop and Photoscape X
From the heart of an arcane storm, she emerges—an enigma woven from shadow and starlight. Her obsidian mask glistens with etched runes of forgotten power, eyes ablaze in spectral magenta, piercing through the glowing amethyst fog that coils like smoke from another realm. Adorned in intricately embroidered robes shimmered with gold and violet thread, the Mistborne Sovereign is neither fully alive nor truly spectral—she is the guardian of veiled paths and forbidden prophecy. The swirling embers that dance around her whisper of battles fought in silence, and of a destiny written in shadow.
Inspired by and Reimagined
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Inspired by and Reimagined
Shrouded in the sacred folds of ancient darkness, the High Ritualist of the Veil commands reverence beneath twisted trees and whispering shadows. Draped in ceremonial robes of tattered obsidian silk, her garments are etched with runic glyphs that pulse faintly with forbidden power. Bone charms and arcane pendants sway from her belt like echoes of past incantations, each trinket a memory bound in ritual.
Her violet hair is woven with fragments of sacred relics—carved bone pins and black iron rings—while her glowing eyes pierce through the fog like twin omens. Faintly revealed beneath her garb, inked runes spiral across her skin, alive with ancient language and pact-bound energy.
Cloaked by a forest where time halts and candlelight never fades, she is the gatekeeper of unspoken rites. Every breath she takes draws on centuries of lost power. She is the voice of the void—and the last thing you hear before it answers back.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Inspired by a Second Life Image of: warlock42069 ; James(Eros) Darkside
Clad in obsidian armor threaded with glowing violet runes, the Amethyst Monarch stands amidst towering crystal spires that pulse with ancient magic. Their molten-gold eyes pierce through the mists of this arcane realm, a domain shaped by forgotten pacts and raw power. The crown, fused from crystal and voidsteel, radiates dominance as much as elegance—each gem etched with runes of command. A fusion of arcane royalty and dread authority, this ruler is not just born of magic.
done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop and Photoscape X.
Based on a Dinkie Second Life Friend.
Princess Rosalinn is the beloved heir to the Petalshade Kingdom, a hidden realm where flora and feline-kind flourish in harmony. With her shimmering silver-tabby fur, soft curls, and golden eyes full of wonder, she is known as the most radiant soul to walk among the wild rose hedges and moss-covered halls of her enchanted homeland.
Rosalinn wears her gown of pastel silk and lace, a ceremonial piece woven by garden fairies from dew-dusted petals and moonlit threads. Around her neck rests an ancient brooch — the Emerald of Everspring — said to grant her a deep bond with the flora of her land. Her crown of living roses never wilts, blooming endlessly as a sign of her connection to the Heartroot Tree, a sacred symbol of her bloodline.
Gentle yet wise beyond her years, Rosalinn is adored by woodland folk, whispered about in fairy circles, and sought after for her ability to calm storms simply by singing. Despite her elegance, she is often found walking barefoot among the blossoms, speaking softly to bees, and writing poetry on rose petals.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop and Photoscape X.
A sweeping panoramic view of the entire realm of Tenebris Dei from high above, as if seen from a celestial vantage point. In the distance, the towering Sepulchral Spire pierces the heavens — a black, cathedral-like fortress glowing with internal soulfire, surrounded by thousands of needle-thin spires. Above it, a massive, cracked celestial dome swirls with golden flame and void light, casting down rays that scorch the sky.
A thin, shining Bridge of Chains stretches from the spire over a vast, bottomless chasm — the Chasm of Lament — connecting to the dark outer reaches.
In the far distance: shimmering fog veils the edge of the Meridian Scar — the burning divide between night and blinding light.
The entire realm is bathed in twilight, torn between flame and mist.
Time to finalize your travel plans!
In just two weeks, on October 12th, 2023 the one24thscale team will have a gallery opening at the Hippodrome Arts center in Julesburg, Colorado. We expect to see you there. No, not really. It is fun to imagine some of you might show up for the opening at 7PM Mountain Time. It is even more fun to imagine you might show up and buy a print or two. Being realists, we do not expect to meet and greet with our small fan base. We will be happy if 20 or 30 townspeople show up for the gathering.
There will be a short presentation, a slide show. We will reveal how the magic is done to the local art lovers and members of the Historical Society.
This gallery showing will be a first for both Ken and Larry.
So, finally we get a benefit from being card carrying artists.
Do any of you have experience at this sort of thing? I mean, do we need to buy a beret to be accepted as artists?
Done in Ai, Finalized in Phostoshop and Photoscape X.
"Water does not fall here. Memory does.
The Harmonic Cascades shimmer high above the Empyrean Bastion — radiant waterfalls of refracted light and emotion. Each strand flows not with sound, but with resonance: grief, joy, forgiveness, purpose.
Beneath the Third Cascade, the soul forgets its burden.
Beneath the Seventh, it remembers why it was born.
The Aurelians leave feathers here.
The Dawnblooded leave silence.
And some… simply stay."_
— Oracle Lumina, “Meditation in Goldlight”
Done in AI, Finalized in Photoshop.
Born from the last breath of a forgotten god, Seraphix is a celestial moth-being who descends only after great magical tragedies. Cloaked in flowing silks and crowned in starfire, Seraphix is both a witness and a warden—gathering the final fragments of memory, light, and sorrow before the world forgets what was lost.
Their wings shimmer with divine runes, like stained glass woven from starlight. Long white hair drifts as if caught in a dream, and a soft golden radiance trails in their wake.
This piece captures Seraphix at the height of their grace: luminous, powerful, and untouchably serene. Part angel, part moth, all myth.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Inspired by and Reimagined
✨ “To master the void is to master all creation.”
Veiled in violet shadow and clad in runic steel, the Arcane Harbinger wields knowledge older than empires. His gauntlet radiates power as a swirling orb of pure arcana crackles above his palm, weaving strands of forbidden geometry into reality. Glowing runes blaze across his armor, each inscription a binding of forgotten gods. His hooded gaze pierces with a spectral blue fire, a silent promise that no fortress, no soul, and no world is beyond his reach.
Past weekend we finalized the shoot on this GN and thanks to Dave for letting me use his shop! Help so much to do light painting and it kept us warm also! Ohh and forgot to add help to give the spooky feel although it was not as hard since I felt that whole night so many chills... I think that places is hunted!!! Still have a few more to edit from this shoot and a few other upcoming projects so I might take a bit of time in the next updates...
Canon 5Dmkii
16-35mm f2.8 ii
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Inspired by and Reimagined
In a darkened chamber lit only by flickering industrial lights, a towering cybernetic revenant stands sentinel — half war machine, half ossified relic of humanity. Its bare skull, yellowed and cracked with age, is embedded with neural ports, clamps, and worn comms tech, the remnants of countless integrations and disconnections. Thick armored cables snake from its jaw and spine into a bulked exosuit of tarnished steel, scarred by battle and corrosion.
Each piece of the armor feels like it was forged in an age long past — with visible wear, deep scoring, and faded insignia etched into its massive chestplate. Snow or dust drifts in slow motion through the stale air, suspended by a stillness that feels post-apocalyptic. The skeletal figure’s mouth is locked open in a silent, eternal scream — rage or command, no one can tell.
My finalized build for Round 4 of the "Starfighter Telephone Game". The fighter has a hinged cockpit, working landing gear, and hidden missle bays that open (see additional pics).
For tHe VeNt: Freaks and Geeks! -- FREAKS!
I love my penis.
The most revered object of human biology existence.
The penis … baby.
You girls in American culture can sit there and flaunt your tits and ass all you want. Show off your curves… yeah I love it baby. Oh you’re so hot in your high heels and short skirt. Fuck it you even want to do some lesbian action for my 21st American man loving ass. That’s so hot… I guess.
But you know what? It all boils down to dick baby. You lesbians getting it on (or actually straight girls who are pushed by society to fuck each other) always wind up doing this wild lick me sex.
I mean okay it’s hot. But what is better than good old fashioned dick?
It’s the finalization to sex? It’s the one object in human anatomy that is beyond XXX rated.
Come on. When you see a hot dog, or a banana, or a cucumber, or even a weird shaped stick on the ground, the jokes come roaring in.
Dick.
Cock.
Penis.
Rod.
Manhood.
Could I go on and on? Personally I love mine and it rocks. And I love the fact that when I want to take a piss I can just straight piss into a urinal. I always feel so bad for chicks at concerts or just walking home from a bar or anywhere actually when they have to take a pisser.
Squat?
Hahahahaha! SUCKS TO BE YOU! Don’t get it on your dress! **giggle**
Sit my ass on a dirty ass public toilet? Actually I have when I do a number 2 and I don’t give a shit. But that’s because I am a guy and the most important part of my anatomy is on the OUTSIDE.
Kidding aside. You girls are BEAUTIFUL! In your curves and your breasts and your hairless bodies and your hips and legs and all that shit. I salivate looking at all you each day.. yum.
But the one thing I have going for me is the dick. You know you can’t live without it. Pretend like you don’t care, but you do.
My point? Girls are just as horny as guys … IF NOT MORE!
I’m insane.
I love you all!!!!
Taken May 10th, 2009
Posted May 11th, 2009
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Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Inspired by the idea of a friend, imagined by Ai
In the heart of a decaying Addams manor, Uncle Fester lounges in his ornate chair, swathed in heavy black robes, a gleeful glint in his lifeless eyes. Around him, flickering candles barely illuminate the gothic opulence—carved bookshelves stuffed with tomes of the occult, cobweb-laced skulls, and antique candelabras of wrought iron.
Above, a bizarre string of birthday lamps dangles from the cracked ceiling—each shaped like iconic heads from the Addams lineage, including Wednesday, Gomez, Morticia, and Lurch. These surreal lanterns glow in a sickly amber hue, their warped faces stretched into hollow smiles or vacant stares. Some lamps take the form of skulls with candlelight glowing from their hollow eyes, while others resemble stitched-together paper-mâché busts with Addamsesque features, suspended from twisted iron hooks and black thread.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
Once a soldier. Then a ghost. Now, only a machine with a memory.
VANTAGE-X is an off-grid, AI-integrated kill unit developed under Project Nemesis—decommissioned, buried, and erased. But something brought him back online. Something personal. Now, he moves through the underbelly of Neon Sector 17, hunting crime lords, cyber-cartels, and corporate warlords with a singular directive: purge by precision.
His obsidian armor is war-forged and unforgiving, laced with crimson energy veins and powered by an illegal reactor core. The iconic skull insignia isn’t for intimidation. It’s a statement. A brand. A curse. His weapons are modular: a plasma-charged carbine fused with a monoblade emitter — built to kill clean, or not at all.
Every step VANTAGE-X takes sends shockwaves through the data-grid. Encrypted bounty boards go dark. Surveillance feeds cut out. Justice, in this world, isn't blind — it's infrared.
Milky Way core, taken after the moon set. 10, 6-sec exposures stacked in Sequator, cleaned up further with Topaz DeNoise AI, and finalized in Lightroom.
Orland, Maine.
Well... due to recommendations from some experienced builders (tagged in this photo) I have modified the nose to be more accurate. This video gives a brief overview of such modification. The nose now bears a more realistic, built-up intake, a more accurate contour and a shorter, thus more realistic length. I don't know if it's much of an improvement, but I hope to get better on hopefully more jets in the future!
Film Credits: My little sister ;D.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Inspired by Akira
In the electric heart of Neo-Tokyo, where rain cuts through neon and thunder rumbles like a war drum, a lone rider ignites the streets. Clad in obsidian leathers and astride a monstrous red cyberbike pulsing with blue-core energy, he waits — calm before the storm. Towering holograms flicker overhead, reflecting in the slick pavement beneath his wheels. As lightning veins the sky behind him, the machine growls to life, ready to tear through the undercity on a path of vengeance, speed, and rebellion.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
A haunting vision of regal horror, the Queen of the Silken Abyss stands enshrouded in a flowing obsidian cloak, her cracked bone-white mask etched with eight hollow eye sockets, each lit from within by searing crimson eyes. Twisted black horns frame a crown of bone, crowned with a skeletal spider sigil—an emblem of her dominion over shadows and silk. Adorned in talon-forged jewelry and bone relics, she emerges from a void of glowing purple web filaments, her calm expression concealing a predatory will. Lit with dramatic shadows and eldritch embers, she rules not with fury, but with an eternal, chilling grace.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
I am going to do some sexy shoots as well, its new for me but i call it my Femme Fatale series. This is the first one.
Lady Seraphyne Noctra, the Crimson Widow of the Ebon Crypts, is a vampiress of ancient nobility and dark renown. Clad in ornate black lace and leather, her attire reveals as much as it conceals—a weapon of seduction as lethal as her fangs. Her glowing red eyes burn with ageless hunger, and her voice is a velvet whisper that chills the soul.
She dwells within a forgotten crypt buried beneath ruined cathedrals, where the walls bleed candlelight and the ground is littered with the bones of trespassers and prey. Adorned with spiked chokers and gold-ringed corsetry, Seraphyne moves with regal menace, each step echoing the doom of centuries past.