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Suspended above the city of NeoExtropia, Sky Port Bury hangs in a tangle of steel, secrets, and light. Power is traded in whispers, beauty is engineered, and loyalty runs on voltage.
When casino matriarch Vivienne Ravenwood finds a broken synthetic in a back-alley, she doesn’t call security—she takes it home. What begins as curiosity becomes obsession, and in the city’s electric heart, creation always asks for something in return.
The Ravenwood Construct Book I: Eidolon
A new series of dark cyberpunk stories from the world of NeoExtropia.
Chapter 1 – Vivienne and the First Signal
Sky Port Bury was bracing for a storm. One of the high, thin tempests that hovered instead of falling, turning the air sharp and expectant. Neon flickered against dry steel, and the freight lifts sighed somewhere below. Vivienne Ravenwood moved through the service alleys in a long red coat and a pace that kept the city from catching up.
She’d meant to cut ten minutes off her night. Instead, she found a body.
Not human. Human-shaped.
It sat propped against a dumpster, plating gone in places, framework showing like a graphite sketch under paint. The face, even half-ruined, had been engineered toward beauty—cheek geometry tuned for light, orbital wells proportioned to imply calm. Someone had cared how it would be seen. Someone else had cared less and left it here like a confession they couldn’t finish.
Vivienne crouched. Cold oil and ozone; the city’s perfume. Close up, the chassis revealed quiet wealth in its design: anti-shear anchors at the shoulders, micro-gimbal spine segments, a combat-grade pelvis coupler disguised as grace. Industrial strength folded into elegance. She traced the line of the jaw where dermal mesh had torn back from its seam. The synthetic looked like a statue interrupted.
“Who threw you away,” she murmured, “and why did your worth change?”
A small light flickered deep inside the skull cavity—nothing dramatic, a moth inside a lamp. Not power; a capacitor’s envoi. Then she heard it: two quiet tones in succession, nearly subsonic, more gesture than sound.
Da - dum.
She didn’t believe in omens. She believed in patterns. The two notes repeated, slightly lower. The second slid. A human would call it wistful. A diagnostic would call it noise.
Vivienne stood. “All right,” she told the empty air. “You’re mine.”
She called no one on the casino channels. She didn’t like paperwork in the stormlight.
Ten minutes later, a plain cargo van eased into the alley. Two of her dockhands—one old enough to know what not to see, one young enough to want a promotion—lifted the chassis under her eye. Vivienne insisted on a blanket around the torso, an absurd courtesy that made the younger man less brave and the older one less curious.
“Workshop A?” the old one asked.
“Beneath Workshop A,” Vivienne said. “And use Route Three. No cameras.”
The van pulled away, leaving the alley to its hum. Da - dum, she thought, and almost smiled.
The private lift smelled like sterilized winter. Vivienne stepped out into a room that appeared on no Ravenwood blueprint: low-lit, three gurneys, a ceiling that remembered silence, a ring of devices named with numbers because names were incriminating. Her security chief had called this place a rumor. That was the point.
“Put it there,” she said. “Arms along the sides. Head turned slightly to the left.”
The dockhands obeyed. She dismissed them with enough pay that would keep them indebted and silent—two conditions she trusted more than loyalty. When the door shut, the room felt like a stage without an audience.
The synthetic lay where she’d wanted it, as if it had chosen the pose. Vivienne circled, cataloguing: servo array graded for torsion, knuckle housings built to take a blade, throat cavity widened for a speech modulator. There was taste in the build. There was money. And there was the violence of a hurried disassembly—cut lines not unscrewed, brackets warped where patience would have sufficed.
“Who were you to them,” she asked, and the question left condensation in the air.
The platform’s diagnostic rails extended with a quiet hydraulic curtsey. She connected three lines: power, data, and truth. Power would be patient. Data would be hungry. Truth would be whatever she could prevent from being a lie.
“Shell only,” she told the system. “No core wake. Map the lattice and stop at thirty percent.” Her voice slowed when she gave orders to machines. People mistook it for tenderness. It was tuning.
Screens bloomed. The lattice unfolded in false color, a cathedral of logic in cross-section. Weathered, yes. Sabotaged, no. And there—like writing under scraped paint—an encrypted partition nested beneath the system’s scheduling layer, mislabeled as inert fabric support. Not corporate. Not Guild. Not any vendor she’d bribed.
The identifier was wrong in a specific way: too short by two characters and too symmetrical to be a mistake.
EIDOLON.
Vivienne tasted the word like a jeweler tests metal—instinct before science. She didn’t touch the encrypted partition. Not yet. Let a thing think you hadn’t noticed it and it would tell you who it was trying to impress.
“Slow copy of the surface layers,” she told the system. “And prep the dermal frame for re-anchoring.”
If she was going to keep it—and she was, after all—she would not parade a ruin. Beauty wasn’t weakness; it was armor. People got hypnotized by beauty and confessed things they didn’t mean to.
She keyed three messages, disguised as unrelated repair orders:
To Kel Foran, who fixed neural lattices because he couldn’t fix his own sleep:
Prototype drone. Mesh burn on scheduler. Need reflow and stitch, no full boot. My lab.
To Lio, who worked the port’s edges where the cameras gave up:
Collector’s piece—frame reinforcement and servo retrofit. Has to run silent. Assume nothing. Tell no one.
To the ex-Arcova engineer who changed names monthly:
Behavioral dampers and etiquette bundles for a civilian face. You don’t know what you’re working on. If you think you do, you’re wrong.
She watched each message send, tracking acknowledgments. When the room was quiet again, she lifted a tray of dermal mesh, midnight-soft and threaded with carbon shimmer. The synth’s cheekbone caught the light at the angle the mesh would lay; the room believed in symmetry and Vivienne obliged.
Then—the two-tone hum again, fainter this time, carried in the transformer’s throat. Da - dum. The second note stepped down.
“I didn’t ask you for a song,” she said.
No answer, of course. The platform hummed and waited for her to invent meaning. Vivienne set the mesh down and let her hand find the curve of its jaw, almost gentle.
“You belong to me,” she said—not loudly, not for the cameras that didn’t exist down here, not for the city that kept its own ledgers. For the room. For the machine. For herself.
Da - dum.
Visit Sky Port Bury at maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Kasieopeia/219/128/534
Old ledger from the early 1900's. This book is a big one; it measures 23.5x19 inches and 4.5 inches thick!
My mother has my grandmother's antique writing desk from approx. the 1930s. She has it adorned with an old ink well and pen, old glasses, a pocket watch and a cashbook ledger from the district post office of Calimesa California from January of 1930. I gave them a vintage treatment to make the photos look old. It gives me chills to think about my grandmother's hands touching these same drawers 80 years ago!
In August 2023 I got Betty Mouridsen's embroidery pieces and different drawings and patterns. Some of you might remember the embellished nightgown.
Today the focus is on the drawings and patterning. All is tucked away again in a pocket but you can see the drawings in the collage.
Inle Lake lies at an elevation of 884 m (2,900 ft.) 425 km (264 mi.) north of Yangon in Shan State, Myanmar. Covering an area of some 116 sq. km (44.8 sq. mi.), its depth ranges from 1.5 m (4.9 ft.) during the dry season (November to April) to 3.7 m (12 ft.) during the rainy season (May to October). The lake was included in the UNESCO World Network of Biosphere Reserves in 2015. In 2018, it was designated a Ramsar Wetland of International Importance.
The Aung Mingalar Pagoda is located in Ywama village on the western side of the lake near its southern end. A market rotates on a five-day cycle to various villages on the lake, including Ywama, where it is held at the Aung Mingalar Pagoda complex and the adjacent canal.
Wow another TDK custom.
Anyways how's your day been my has been pretty good.
Back in before I started flickr I loved watching and still do forrestfire101 lego batman videos. I always loved his TDK joker so that's why based the off of. And yes it is sharpie I wanted it to be like Forrestfire101's I wouldn't have done it if the head wasn't as bad in shape is it. There are tons of light spots and where the printing is wearing off. The coat is made from a purple lego cape. He has a painted BA knife. The torso is a Louis lane torso that I painted.
~Jeb
A custom repaint of 1/6 Heath Ledger Joker head with attached real hair
custom one-of-a-kind repaint by Noel Cruz.
based upon Batman The Dark Knight film
This collectible is an auction doll for 6days on eBay starting June 18th, 2017. r.ebay.com/apdqoE
FOR MORE OF MY ART, PLEASE VISIT MY WEB SITE AT WWW. NCRUZ.COM . Link below:
See more examples of my work at my web site: www.ncruz.com/
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Deviant Art: noeling.deviantart.com/
on eBay at www.ebay.com/usr/ncruz_doll_art
Official list entry
Heritage Category: Listed Building
Grade: I
List Entry Number: 1163790
Date first listed: 30-Jun-1961
Statutory Address: CHURCH OF SAINT JAMES THE APOSTLE
Location
Statutory Address: St Jame's Church, Village Rd, Christow, Exeter EX6 7LZ
County: Devon
District: Teignbridge (District Authority)
Parish: Christow
National Park: DARTMOOR
National Grid Reference: SX 83613 85039
Details
CHRISTOW CHRISTOW SX 88 NW 2/88 Church of Saint James the Apostle 30.6.61 GV I Parish church. C12 font, medieval fabric C15, restoration of 1862 by Edward Ashworth included rebuilding the chancel, the porch, adding the vestry, reseating and repairing and repainting the screen. Granite ashlar tower, the remainder of the church rubble and snecked stone ; slate roofs. Largely Perpendicular. Plan: of nave, chancel, 4-bay north and south aisles, south porch, west tower north- east vestry. C19 chancel with granite ashlar quoins set back buttresses, 3-light C19 Perpendicular east window with carved label stops, 1 buttress on the south side which has a C19 moulded priest's door and a 1-light cusped window with carved label stops; similar north window to chancel ; north-east vestry with 2-light cusped square headed window on the east side and a moulded doorway on the north side. North aisle with set back buttresses and buttresses with set-offs between the 4 C19 Perpendicular 3-light windows retaining medieval mullions and jambs ; similar east window ; 2-light square-headed cusped west window. South aisle with set back buttresses 2 windows east of porch, one to west, Perpendicular, 3-light with C19 tracery ; smaller west window ; tall 3-light C19 Perpendicular east window. Tall slim battlemented granite ashlar west tower of 3 stages with battlementing and obelisk pinnacles, set back buttresses and string courses. Shallow-moulded granite west doorway dated 1680 (presumably a restoration date) on the arch ; 3-light Perpendicular granite traceried west window ; 2-light chamfered belfry openings on all 4 faces ; rectangular openings at bellringers' stage on east and west faces. Porch with set back buttresses and a shallow moulded granite outer doorway with NB carved on one jamb, C19 hoodmould and carved label stops, good ledger stone used as paving slab outside porch, commemorating Nicholas and Walter Busell, died 1631 and 1632 ; C19 arched brace roof to porch with crude chamfered rounded inner doorway and probably C17 door. Interior: Plastered walls ; C19 timber chancel arch on brattished corbels ; 4-bay granite arcades of conventional Perpendicular design; double chamfered tower arch, the inner order on stone corbels. Ceiled wagon roofs with carved bosses to nave, similar C19 roof to chancel, ceiled wagons without bosses to north and south aisles. 5-bay rood screen, (Pevsner 'A'type), the coving missing, re-painted in the C19. 3- bay of the screen, formerly across the south aisle, have been re-sited as the tower screen. 1860s stone reredos of 5 gabled bays with texts and paintings on tin in the centre 3 bays, co-eval floor tiling and C19 poppyhead choirstalls with traceried fronts. The nave has a late C19 timber drum pulpit with carved panels incorporating C16 blind tracery ; C12 font with a square scalloped bowl on a replaced cylindrical stem and plinth. C16 square-headed bench ends with 2 tiers of blank tracery, one carved with a pomegranate, fixed to later seating in the aisles with low door added in the C19. Plain C19 benches in the nave except for 2 rows facing north and south with carved frontals. 1682 Royal Arms in plaster in high relief with the names of Tho Moore and Chr Moore, churchwardens, below. Memorials: Numerous C19 wall white marble wall monuments to the Exmouth family in the chancel, 2 of 1833 signed E. Gaffin, Regent Street, London : one to the Right Honourable Pownoll Bastard Pellew with a mourning woman ; the second commemorating the Right Honourable Edward Pellew with a sarcophagus, urn and laurels framed by half columns, naval trophies above and long verse below recording Pellew's rescue of 500 people from the wreck of the 'Dutton' ...." so, when this mighty orb, in dread alarm,/ shall crash in ruins, at its God's decree;/May thy redeemer, with triumphant arm,/ from the vast wreck of all things - rescue thee"/. The nave has a number of C19 wall monuments and 2 fine slate-cut ledger stones fixed to the west and north walls commemorating Edmund Davis, died 1652 and John Davys died 1682. Stained Glass: Fragments of C15 canopy work and a figure in the easternmost window of the south aisle ; some C18 bottle glass in the head tracery of the north aisle ; Outstanding Clayton and Bell glass, memorial date 1862, in the east. window of the south aisle ; chancel east window probably by Drake of Exeter, memorial date of 1899 glass by Ward and Hughes in the window in the south aisle, first bay from the east, memorial date of 1913. Window in north aisle, opposite the door, with memorial date of 1867, probably by William Wailes. Devon Nineteenth Century Churches Project.
© Historic England 2022
Dog portrait photographer in Milton Keynes, UK.
Brian Tomlinson Photography: www.bt-photography.co.uk