The SAME android girl head as in the references: same face, same freckles, same grey-green eyes, same transparent glass dome skull with copper wiring and circuit boards inside, same chrome hydraulic neck rods, same black base box, same ribbon cables hanging down. But sixty years later: an old, worn machine that has sat unrepaired on a family bookshelf for decades. Her synthetic skin has aged like old porcelain and rubber: a fine web of hairline cracks across one cheek and the forehead, a small chipped patch at the left temple showing dull metal underneath, freckles faded, skin slightly yellowed and matte, a thin layer of dust. The glass dome is scratched, clouded and faintly yellowed, with one small crack; inside, the copper wires have a green patina and only one small warm light glows very dimly. The neck rods are tarnished, one wrapped in old black electrical tape; an old coiled power cable runs from the base to a battered external battery pack held together with tape. Her eyes are still alive, clear and intelligent, looking slightly off camera with a calm, dry, watchful expression; mouth closed. She is NOT an old human woman: no wrinkles, no grey hair, the aging is only in the materials. Plain neutral grey studio background, soft cinematic side light, photorealistic, 35mm film look, the whole head, neck and base in frame.
