> [!statblocks|full] > ![[62-Jo_Ravenswood.png|cover right circle hmed wmed lp]] > > # (name:: Jo Ravenswood) > [campaign:: [[Voidnodes]]] > [game:: Custom] > [player:: [[Leah Ferguson|Leah]]] > > --- > > Josephine “Jo” Ravenswood is a mechanical tinkerer whose soul was partially separated from her timeline, resulting in memory loss. She knows she's naturally inclined with machines, and with tools (like the ones handed to her right before she came through the portal), but the rest is fuzzy. She has a curious mind, and is the type of person who likes to fidget by disassembling pens. She comes from a version of our world resembling a gaslamp fantasy version of 1800s London. > > --- > > #### Clichés > > - [Wrench Wench](https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/WrenchWench) 4 > - [Amnesiac Resonance](https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/AmnesiacResonance) 3 > - [Badass Bookworm](https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/BadassBookworm) 2 > - [Pint-sized Powerhouse](https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/PintsizedPowerhouse) 1 ## Tools of the Trade (as packed by Evie) - A leather satchel - A compact multi-tool - A polished copper compass - A small music box - It plays a song Jo doesn't remember - A pocketwatch with a hidden compartment - Jo doesn't remember the hidden compartment exists either - A handkerchief with the initials J.R. - A lock picking set - A silk ribbon - A small mirror - A magnifying glass - A brass key - Sandwiches and cookies, wrapped in a cloth and tied with twine - Hairpins - A journal and pen ## Background The Antikythera Mechanism did not go down with the ship in that fateful storm in the second century BCE. The gods did not interfere; they watched as humanity reshaped destiny through invention. Instead of being lost for centuries, the technology was slowly built upon and given time to develop. There were losses and technological setbacks, of course. Throughout the ages, there always are. But the Dark Ages were never all that dark — both in our world, and in hers. And yet, in Josephine Ravenswood's world, the Renaissance gave birth to the High Sciences, in which the world came to know and revere mechanical invention as though it were magic. (It was not magic, but the evolution of science, dating back to one fateful ship's survival in the Mediterranean Sea many centuries prior.) The lasting legacy of Leonardo da Vinci is not the *Vitruvian Man*, but his *automa cavaliere*… his Mechanical Knight. What da Vinci was able to craft was not just a simple figure, made to move with pulleys and cables, to simply amuse the court of Milan in 1495. The Mechanical Knight, though as crude and elementary as it was when looking back, was the first automaton infused with the spark of a soul. It amused the onlookers at the pageant with its ability to move its head, lift its visor, and rise into a standing position. But when the Mechanical Knight began to walk independently and bow to the surprised Duke of Milan, everyone realized da Vinci had created something more. It marked the start of the High Sciences, in which man learned to weave essences of life — what da Vinci called the Divine Soul — into the mechanical creations. His work, between the study of mechanics, of time, and of the human spirit, not only founded the practice of the High Sciences, but split it between two main camps: the *Ars Temporis et Fati*, and the *Ars Machinica*. One that could bridge the skills between both was known — like da Vinci — as an *Animae Aeternum*, an Eternal Soul. ### *Ars Machinica* The *Ars Machinica* study the mechanical creation of complex automatons. Inspired by the Mechanical Knight, Machinartis have worked through the ages to develop increasingly complex automata, with or without the infusion of the Divine Soul. Many of the initial creations were simple devices to spark pleasure — a small boy writing pre-programmed notes at a desk with a quill and ink, or an elegant swan made of silver, plucking fish from a moving river of glass. Like music boxes, they were designed through repetitive mechanical form, though sometimes creating such splendour that non-scientific audiences wouldn't wonder if the little boy winked, or the swan flapped his wings out of sync. But complexity grew, as did scale. Machinartis began weaving the same techniques into other aspects of 16th and 17th century designs. Cathedral architecture was created to showcase more intricate devotions to God, replacing the stone carvings of the Notre-Dame de Paris with intricate mechanical figures, each moving and enticing the faithful through the doors of the cathedral. Early automatons were installed at the royal palaces across Europe, Asia, and the Middle East, keeping the kitchen fires both lit and stocked, and stationed at doors to open them for dignitaries. Machinartis continued the development of da Vinci's Flying Machine. They wove their learnings into creating rudimentary vehicles that could take to the sky for short distances at a time at first, and then increasingly longer and safer distances for humans to travel by air. These air ships, as they were called, were piloted by specialized automatons, and continued to evolve throughout the centuries, with steam power changing the nature of travel, and ushering in the Industrial Revolution much earlier than our own. A typical Machinartis became a master of creation, developing intricate automata and industrial mechanisms that are the backbone of the social and economic world. They are highly revered among the population for their ability to craft, even without the infusion of the soul into their creations. Only the few Animae Aeternum have the ability to imbue their creations with an essence of their eternal soul, and are highly sought after artisans and scientists, like da Vinci was. ### *Ars Temporis et Fati* The *Ars Temporis et Fati* study the matters of time and of the human anatomy and spirit. During his career, da Vinci was known for his dissections of human cadavers, in which he filled countless sketchbooks with notes both on the human body and the tethers of the soul. He had developed a device that allowed the Fatum Artifex (High Science practitioners of the Ars Temporis et Fati) to not only see the intricate tendrils that wove fate and time together within the human form. In the early-1760s, Dr. Reginald Ashford, the famed British Fatum Artifex, had finally broken through the initial tethers of the soul on a living human, finding a way to separate them from elements of their personal timeline. Before this, no man had survived the separate of soul and their Past. Ashford was a doctor at London's infamous Bedlam Hospital, and his experiments had become the most popular among the spectated surgeries, fetching high ticket prices from the public until the barbaric practice was shut down in 1770. By untangling the soul from a person's timeline, Fatum Artifices argue that the person exists in a sense of peace by not being burdened with their memories of their past. The person still retains their functional abilities, though may not know or understand how they've come to learn them. Unlike a lobotomy, if performed correctly, no physical harm comes to the patient, and, in theory, the tendrils between time and the soul could be reconnected. (The opponents of this practice, however, argue that separating a person's soul from time is both barbaric and intellectual theft, and that Fatum Artifices play god. What remained of a person's memories after surgery depends on how severe the cut was. Sometimes wisps remain, while others wake up like a new person after the surgery. This practice remained in use in sanitariums through the 1800s, albeit in a complicated, morally grey area.) In secret, some Fatum Artifices practice harvesting the entire soul from a living person, not just separating parts. These souls have traded on the black market for close to a century and fetch a high price, leaving behind a soulless husk who is disconnected from their Past, Present, and Future. Souls separated from the dead or those that have died after separation do not retain their value nearly as well. ### Jo Ravenswood As the only child of Dr. Joseph Ravenswood, the pre-eminent British Machinartis, she was named for her father. (And, much to his chagrin, she prefers to be called Jo.) His creations had wowed close to six million people at the Great Exhibition of the Works of Industry and Automata of All Nations in 1851. She was only six at the time, but has strong memories of seeing the royals and dignitaries who flocked to the fair to discuss advanced automata with Dr. Ravenswood, but who paid no mind to the quiet girl child reading in the corner. Between her father’s study and workshop, Jo was raised in the art of engineering from an early age. Jo had access to the finest books in his library, and the best tutors that Dr. Ravenswood's ample wealth could provide. He had been disappointed she was born a girl, and blamed this unfortunate occurrence on her mother, Margaret Ravenswood. Margaret had died from complications during Jo's childbirth — a fact that Dr. Ravenswood blamed Jo for, and as she grew, resented how much she had grown to resemble her. Dr. Ravenswood considered his child an investment in the Ravenswood name until he could have a son, and that even if she could live up to a quarter of his ability, there was hope for his legacy. By the 1862 Exhibition in London, her contributions to the High Sciences had eclipsed that of Dr. Ravenswood. On display next to Charles Babbage's Indifference Engine No. 10, the thirteen-year-old Jo Ravenswood had a display of her eerily lifelike automaton, the Echo Vitae. The Echo Vitae had an androgynous humanoid form, and sat in an ornately carved walnut chair upon a small podium. As a curious on-looker approached, the automaton's posture and facial expressions would shift to mirror and mimic the person, all with silently whirring cogs and wheels contained within its mechanical form. The Times proclaimed Jo to be a generational Animae Aeternum, but her father downplayed her achievement in interviews, explaining that she was simply a promising student with a brilliant mentor and ample opportunities at her fingertips to develop. Despite her acclaim, Jo spent the next ten years in relative seclusion. Dr. Ravenswood served as her business manager, taking on contracts from across the British Empire for complex mechanisms that his daughter designed, and he oversaw fabrication. Dr. Ravenswood's fame in the High Scientific continued to grow as he positioned himself publicly as the face of the creations, allowing him the opportunity to network with deeper circles of Fatum Artifices. To help keep rumours from spreading, the staff of the Ravenswood estate were entirely mechanical, and built by Dr. Ravenswood. He was in full command of the house automata. On the side, Jo never stopped developing the Echo Vitae. She continuously iterated upon the first generation until she had been able to build a fully responsive and mobile model who displayed both intelligence and compassion. Evie, as they decided to name themselves, became a companion for Jo in her isolation. Evie would spend their nights voraciously reading and internalizing human knowledge while Jo slept, and her days happily conversing with Jo in the shop, recounting what they had learned the night before. A tight-knit friendship formed between the pair, as Jo continued to tinker and design while listening to Evie's knowledge. Jo spoke with every evolution of Evie with compassion and genuine friendship, her personality growing and expanding as she had someone to talk to she cared about, and cared about her. ## Betrayal Through his networking, Dr. Ravenswood made the acquaintance of a Fatum Artifex named Dr. Sebastian Alistair, who not only listened to Ravenswood's jealousy over his daughter's skills, but encouraged it. Alistair believed that not only could a soul be extricated from a living person, but their essence could be absorbed by another. Alistair began working to slowly convince Dr. Ravenswood that he could absorb the soul of his daughter, thereby combining her natural intuition for mechanics with his own. Unbeknownst to Jo, her work allowed for the funding and experimentation of this process, with Alistair performing an illegal harvest of the soul of a man he had found at a workhouse. The surgery for the extraction of a soul from Time was a long process, with the patient needing time to recuperate between Past, Present, and Future. The man from the workhouse was made comfortable for the weeks he spent in and out of surgeries and recovery, believing his family in the countryside would be looked after as a result. When the soul was fully extracted, Alistair killed what remained. Once the man's soul was successfully transferred it into his assistant as proof of concept, both he and Dr. Ravenswood staged the death of the assistant to further hide the evidence. Dr. Alistair was invited as a guest to the secluded Ravenswood countryside estate where Jo lived and worked. At his bequest, Dr. Ravenswood informed his automata staff to obey Alistair's requests, helping him set up a covert operating and recovery room in one of the guest bedrooms. Over the course of a week, Alistair settled comfortably into the estate, spending long afternoons speaking with Dr. Ravenswood in his study while Jo continued to work in the workshop. Alistair would visit her in the mornings and late afternoons, taking an active interest in her research and in her. Jo became suspicious of his questions about her work, and her beliefs about the soul and eternal souls. While he and Dr. Ravenswood were out one afternoon, she searched his guest bedroom by herself, telling Evie to keep watch from the workshop. Hidden among his things, Jo found a detailed research file about both Ravenswood family members, and about the ritualistic absorption of eternal souls. She found notes about how best to manipulate Dr. Ravenswood, and chillingly, how easy it was to gain his trust. She was unable to find a key to the locked room in either his room or her father's study, so instead used her tools to pick the lock. Within the locked room, she found an operating table with trays of specialty implements to detach the soul from a person's timeline, and from the tethers of their body. The bed had been turned into a recovery bed, with restraints like you would expect at Bedlam. When they had returned home, Jo attempted to confront her father alone in his study, showing him the notes she had recovered from Alistair's room. Dr. Ravenswood dismissed his daughter's concerns, still believing that he would be the one to absorb her soul, and refusing to listen to reason or compassion in favour of greed. Realizing the danger, Jo fled to her workshop, seeking refuge with Evie. But the house automata, now under Alistair’s control, seized her before she reached the door. Helpless, she watched in horror as Alistair ordered them to murder her father and prepare her for the soul extraction. Dr. Alistair proceeded with the first phase of the operation, successfully separating her soul from the Past portion of her personal timeline. Jo Ravenswood was kept heavily drugged and locked in the recovery room to keep her from escaping. ## Into the Void Knowing time was running out, Evie devised a desperate escape plan for Jo. They had absorbed everything from the Ravenswood library, every scrap of knowledge and fragment of humanity their creator had imparted. In the workshop, they fashioned a machine—a portal, a doorway to another dimension, or so Evie hoped. After his last check of the evening, Alistair had locked the door to Jo's recovery room before turning in for the night. After weeks of recovery, tomorrow he intended to sever her from the Present — if she survived at all. Moving stealthily in the dark of night, Evie slipped into the main house and broke the lock on Jo's recovery room door. They gently lifted Jo's unconscious form and carried her back to the workshop. Evie dressed her carefully, and tucked a small bag of tools and essentials next to her, then set to work to open the portal. Jo awoke to the glow of a shimmering portal, its surface rippling with light. An androgynous metallic figure — familiar, and yet unplaceable — worked intently at the control panel. She was on the floor of her workshop. She was certain it was hers, though she could not remember what she made here, or who this figure was. Her memories were fragments and scraps. She remembered her name — Josephine Ravenswood. She remembered Dr. Alistair, but nothing beyond his cold, clinical presence after her surgery. (Her surgery? What surgery?) And she remembered little else. The metallic figure noticed they were awake, and helped Jo to sit up, speaking softly and kindly to her in hushed tones while they pressed the bag into her hands. They explained she needed to trust them, but that she would need to hurry. They were sending her somewhere else, and would bring her back when it was safe. The automaton helped Jo to her feet, hugged their creator, and sent her through the portal, closing it behind her. Once she was safely through, Evie began disassembling the construction so that it could not be used by the humans of this world until Evie had prepared for Jo's return.