punch needle style, looped, textured, colorful, patterned "in the dank, abandoned courtyard of a long forgotten monastery, a 57 year old mystic stands shrouded in a tattered cloak of decaying silk, its face twisted in a visage of bitter resentment as it gazes up at a crumbling fresco depicting a forgotten ritual. the air is heavy with the stench of decay and rotting parchment, and the flickering torchlight casts eerie shadows on the cracked stone floor, where gears and pearls seem to be embedded like tiny, mechanical thorns. amidst the stagnation and decay, the automaton's mechanical limbs appear to blend seamlessly with the ancient stones, as if it has been waiting for eternity to reclaim its hidden treasures amidst the forgotten rituals."