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- Original Prompt
- 黒いダスターコートを羽織りペストマスクと羽帽子を被った男が金棒を担いで寛いでいる
- Mode
- flash
- Size
- 1104 x 1824
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Similar Images
Show more1boy, solo, anthro crow man, avian humanoid, shiny black beak, large red-brown eyes, black feathers, black wings folded over shoulders like a cape, long black plague doctor coat, black leather gloves, wide-brimmed plague doctor hat, black belt, leather pouches with glass potions and rolled spell scrolls, holding cane in crook of arm, crystal bird skull cane head, brooding, confident, lowered brow, half-lidded eyes, looking to the side, cowboy shot, from below, leaning back against wall, head turned three-quarter, crossed ankles, fantasy brothel tavern, dim candlelight, deep crimson and gold palette
The camera looks up from slightly below waist height at a three-quarter angle: one anthro crow man stands alone, leaning his left shoulder and upper arm against a carved wooden pillar of a fantasy brothel tavern, one ankle crossed over the other, weight carried on his right leg, his body angled toward the pillar while his head turns back over his right shoulder and his large red-brown eyes look down and off to the side, past the frame, half-lidded under a low, level brow. His shiny black beak catches a thin hard highlight along its ridge. Feathers lie sleek around his cheeks and jaw in an attractive, sharp-boned face; the wide brim of his black plague doctor hat shadows the upper half of his face, and its long curved beak-mask brim tips just above his brow.
His long black plague doctor coat hangs open a hand's width down the chest, its leather waxed and creased at the elbows; both hands are sheathed in black leather gloves, the right hand loosely curled, and in the crook of his left arm — forearm clamped against his ribs — he carries a dark walking cane laid diagonally across his body, its head a carved bird skull of cloudy crystal that glows faintly from within, so the crystal throws a small pale-green pool of light onto the underside of his jaw and the top of his glove. A black belt cinches his waist, and from it hang three leather pouches, one flap unclasped so that glass vials of amber, violet and clear liquid show their waxed stoppers, and a fan of rolled spell scrolls is tucked beside them. His large black wings are folded down and wrapped forward around his shoulders like a living cape, overlapping the coat's collar, their long primaries hanging to his elbows and their glossy barbs reflecting the room's candlelight in thin blue-white streaks.
Behind and around him the fantasy brothel tavern recedes: a low-ceilinged room of dark carved wood, red velvet drapes swagged across a balcony rail, brass censers, and hanging paper lanterns glowing warm rose and gold; soft-focus figures of other patrons and silhouettes of draped couches sit deep in the background, deliberately out of focus, none of them in focus or near the crow man. The only light on him is the crystal cane and a cluster of candles to his right, so his right side is warm and lit and the left side of his coat falls into near-black shadow; the room beyond glows in dust-softened reds and ambers behind a haze of incense smoke. Candle flames and lanterns are the only warm sources; the crystal is the only cool one. Palette locked to black, crimson, antique gold and a single cold green glint at the cane. Quiet, dangerous charm.
MalletMann
1boy, solo, anthro crow man, avian humanoid, shiny black beak, large red-brown eyes, black feathers, black wings folded over shoulders like a cape, long black plague doctor coat, black leather gloves, wide-brimmed plague doctor hat, black belt, leather pouches with glass potions and rolled spell scrolls, holding cane in crook of arm, crystal bird skull cane head, brooding, confident, lowered brow, half-lidded eyes, looking to the side, cowboy shot, from below, leaning back against wall, head turned three-quarter, crossed ankles, fantasy brothel tavern, dim candlelight, deep crimson and gold palette
The camera looks up from slightly below waist height at a three-quarter angle: one anthro crow man stands alone, leaning his left shoulder and upper arm against a carved wooden pillar of a fantasy brothel tavern, one ankle crossed over the other, weight carried on his right leg, his body angled toward the pillar while his head turns back over his right shoulder and his large red-brown eyes look down and off to the side, past the frame, half-lidded under a low, level brow. His shiny black beak catches a thin hard highlight along its ridge. Feathers lie sleek around his cheeks and jaw in an attractive, sharp-boned face; the wide brim of his black plague doctor hat shadows the upper half of his face, and its long curved beak-mask brim tips just above his brow.
His long black plague doctor coat hangs open a hand's width down the chest, its leather waxed and creased at the elbows; both hands are sheathed in black leather gloves, the right hand loosely curled, and in the crook of his left arm — forearm clamped against his ribs — he carries a dark walking cane laid diagonally across his body, its head a carved bird skull of cloudy crystal that glows faintly from within, so the crystal throws a small pale-green pool of light onto the underside of his jaw and the top of his glove. A black belt cinches his waist, and from it hang three leather pouches, one flap unclasped so that glass vials of amber, violet and clear liquid show their waxed stoppers, and a fan of rolled spell scrolls is tucked beside them. His large black wings are folded down and wrapped forward around his shoulders like a living cape, overlapping the coat's collar, their long primaries hanging to his elbows and their glossy barbs reflecting the room's candlelight in thin blue-white streaks.
Behind and around him the fantasy brothel tavern recedes: a low-ceilinged room of dark carved wood, red velvet drapes swagged across a balcony rail, brass censers, and hanging paper lanterns glowing warm rose and gold; soft-focus figures of other patrons and silhouettes of draped couches sit deep in the background, deliberately out of focus, none of them in focus or near the crow man. The only light on him is the crystal cane and a cluster of candles to his right, so his right side is warm and lit and the left side of his coat falls into near-black shadow; the room beyond glows in dust-softened reds and ambers behind a haze of incense smoke. Candle flames and lanterns are the only warm sources; the crystal is the only cool one. Palette locked to black, crimson, antique gold and a single cold green glint at the cane. Quiet, dangerous charm.
MalletMann
1boy, solo, anthro crow man, avian humanoid, shiny black beak, large red-brown eyes, black feathers, black wings folded over shoulders like a cape, long black plague doctor coat, black leather gloves, wide-brimmed plague doctor hat, black belt, leather pouches with glass potions and rolled spell scrolls, holding cane in crook of arm, crystal bird skull cane head, brooding, confident, lowered brow, half-lidded eyes, looking to the side, cowboy shot, from below, leaning back against wall, head turned three-quarter, crossed ankles, fantasy brothel tavern, dim candlelight, deep crimson and gold palette
The camera looks up from slightly below waist height at a three-quarter angle: one anthro crow man stands alone, leaning his left shoulder and upper arm against a carved wooden pillar of a fantasy brothel tavern, one ankle crossed over the other, weight carried on his right leg, his body angled toward the pillar while his head turns back over his right shoulder and his large red-brown eyes look down and off to the side, past the frame, half-lidded under a low, level brow. His shiny black beak catches a thin hard highlight along its ridge. Feathers lie sleek around his cheeks and jaw in an attractive, sharp-boned face; the wide brim of his black plague doctor hat shadows the upper half of his face, and its long curved beak-mask brim tips just above his brow.
His long black plague doctor coat hangs open a hand's width down the chest, its leather waxed and creased at the elbows; both hands are sheathed in black leather gloves, the right hand loosely curled, and in the crook of his left arm — forearm clamped against his ribs — he carries a dark walking cane laid diagonally across his body, its head a carved bird skull of cloudy crystal that glows faintly from within, so the crystal throws a small pale-green pool of light onto the underside of his jaw and the top of his glove. A black belt cinches his waist, and from it hang three leather pouches, one flap unclasped so that glass vials of amber, violet and clear liquid show their waxed stoppers, and a fan of rolled spell scrolls is tucked beside them. His large black wings are folded down and wrapped forward around his shoulders like a living cape, overlapping the coat's collar, their long primaries hanging to his elbows and their glossy barbs reflecting the room's candlelight in thin blue-white streaks.
Behind and around him the fantasy brothel tavern recedes: a low-ceilinged room of dark carved wood, red velvet drapes swagged across a balcony rail, brass censers, and hanging paper lanterns glowing warm rose and gold; soft-focus figures of other patrons and silhouettes of draped couches sit deep in the background, deliberately out of focus, none of them in focus or near the crow man. The only light on him is the crystal cane and a cluster of candles to his right, so his right side is warm and lit and the left side of his coat falls into near-black shadow; the room beyond glows in dust-softened reds and ambers behind a haze of incense smoke. Candle flames and lanterns are the only warm sources; the crystal is the only cool one. Palette locked to black, crimson, antique gold and a single cold green glint at the cane. Quiet, dangerous charm.
MalletMann
1boy, solo, anthro crow man, avian humanoid, shiny black beak, large red-brown eyes, black feathers, black wings folded over shoulders like a cape, long black plague doctor coat, black leather gloves, wide-brimmed plague doctor hat, black belt, leather pouches with glass potions and rolled spell scrolls, holding cane in crook of arm, crystal bird skull cane head, brooding, confident, lowered brow, half-lidded eyes, looking to the side, cowboy shot, from below, leaning back against wall, head turned three-quarter, crossed ankles, fantasy brothel tavern, dim candlelight, deep crimson and gold palette
The camera looks up from slightly below waist height at a three-quarter angle: one anthro crow man stands alone, leaning his left shoulder and upper arm against a carved wooden pillar of a fantasy brothel tavern, one ankle crossed over the other, weight carried on his right leg, his body angled toward the pillar while his head turns back over his right shoulder and his large red-brown eyes look down and off to the side, past the frame, half-lidded under a low, level brow. His shiny black beak catches a thin hard highlight along its ridge. Feathers lie sleek around his cheeks and jaw in an attractive, sharp-boned face; the wide brim of his black plague doctor hat shadows the upper half of his face, and its long curved beak-mask brim tips just above his brow.
His long black plague doctor coat hangs open a hand's width down the chest, its leather waxed and creased at the elbows; both hands are sheathed in black leather gloves, the right hand loosely curled, and in the crook of his left arm — forearm clamped against his ribs — he carries a dark walking cane laid diagonally across his body, its head a carved bird skull of cloudy crystal that glows faintly from within, so the crystal throws a small pale-green pool of light onto the underside of his jaw and the top of his glove. A black belt cinches his waist, and from it hang three leather pouches, one flap unclasped so that glass vials of amber, violet and clear liquid show their waxed stoppers, and a fan of rolled spell scrolls is tucked beside them. His large black wings are folded down and wrapped forward around his shoulders like a living cape, overlapping the coat's collar, their long primaries hanging to his elbows and their glossy barbs reflecting the room's candlelight in thin blue-white streaks.
Behind and around him the fantasy brothel tavern recedes: a low-ceilinged room of dark carved wood, red velvet drapes swagged across a balcony rail, brass censers, and hanging paper lanterns glowing warm rose and gold; soft-focus figures of other patrons and silhouettes of draped couches sit deep in the background, deliberately out of focus, none of them in focus or near the crow man. The only light on him is the crystal cane and a cluster of candles to his right, so his right side is warm and lit and the left side of his coat falls into near-black shadow; the room beyond glows in dust-softened reds and ambers behind a haze of incense smoke. Candle flames and lanterns are the only warm sources; the crystal is the only cool one. Palette locked to black, crimson, antique gold and a single cold green glint at the cane. Quiet, dangerous charm.
MalletMann
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