Adam Browne's incipient webpage

... and soon Frederick’s reclining between Bessarion and Regiomontanus on marshmallow upholstery as the royal sausagerobot chauffeurs them through a confusion of glories to an industrial park on the outskirts of Vienna, where stands the Astrologer’s home. Which is a storm cloud’s death mask. Architecture fashioned by the layering of ultralight metals over a tropical thunderhead; diaphanous lamina draped on proud towers and windwhipped billows. The stratocumular form preserved in strata of glitter and film so placed as to produce structural strength… And inside now, the Emperor and the Cardinal follow the Astrologer up and up through a great rising coriolis waltz of labs and workshops and well-furnished hell-furnaced smithies (Regiomontanus being an eminent artificer as well as Astrologer), and halls shaped like turbulence, and everything lit by lamps the colour of midnight lightning...