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AI art "The Ultimate Muscular Bad Boy in a Rainy Alley!"
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The Ultimate Muscular Bad Boy in a Rainy Alley!

I just had to draw this incredibly cool guy walking through a neon-lit, rainy city alley—the mood is just perfect! There's something about his rugged beard and confident stride that I find absolutely irresistible. If he caught your eye too, please leave a like and follow me for more amazing art!

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1 man, solo, adult male, short black hair, grey streaks in hair, full grey beard, cybernetic implants, facial cybernetics, cybernetic eye, metal plates on temple, neck port, bare chest, open sleeveless black leather vest, no shirt, black gothic cargo pants, silver applications on pants, silver studs, silver chains, walking, smoking, cigarette in mouth, hand in pocket, one hand in pants pocket, rain, raining, cloudy night sky, night, alley, futuristic city, neon signage, wet asphalt, from below, cowboy shot, dutch angle, looking to the side, serious expression, jitome, wet hair, wet skin, rain droplets, puddle reflections, backlighting, rim light, blue and magenta palette, cinematic The camera sits low and tilted a few degrees off level, looking up along the alley so the wet walls converge overhead and the man looms into the top of the frame at a cowboy shot, cropped at mid-thigh. He walks toward and past the lens, body angled three-quarters away to his left, right shoulder forward, weight caught on the leading left foot with the trailing right heel just lifting off the asphalt; his left hand is sunk to the knuckles in the front pocket of the cargo pants, pulling the fabric taut across that hip, while his right arm hangs loose with two fingers lightly crooked as if he has just taken the cigarette away from his lips. The cigarette sits at the right corner of his mouth, ember bright orange and a thin thread of smoke peeling upward and bending away in the rain. His head is turned slightly to his right, eyes narrowed against the drizzle and cutting sideways toward the mouth of the alley — a hard, unimpressed look, lower lids tight, brow ridge heavy, jaw set around the cigarette. Short black hair is soaked into wet spikes with grey streaks catching the light along the temples and crown; the full grey beard is rain-darkened, plastered to the jaw with a few loose strands, and water beads hang in it. The cybernetics read as hardware grafted into a living face: a matte metal plate running from the left temple back into the hairline with three small indicator lights, a ring of brushed steel around the left eye socket with a faintly glowing lens, a slim segmented conduit down the left side of the neck into the collarbone, and a small port in the right cheekbone. The open sleeveless leather vest hangs loose and unzipped, black leather glossy with rain, seams and worn edges silvered by water, its armholes framing bare shoulders and a broad bare chest where rain has collected in the hollow of the sternum and runs in thin lines over muscle, cooling the skin to a damp sheen. Below, the gothic cargo pants in black with heavy silver applications — stud rows down the outer seams, flat hammered plates at the knee panels, a couple of short chains swinging with the stride — are soaked dark, one silver knee plate flaring with a wet highlight. The environment is the alley itself: close brick-and-composite walls on both sides layered with pipes, vents and half-illegible signage in Japanese and English that stays out of focus, deep puddles across the paving, and the cloudy night sky visible only as a narrow ragged strip between the rooflines, churning low and lit from below. Rain falls as fine diagonal streaks across the whole frame. The only true light comes from two neon sources — a cold blue tube high on the left wall and a magenta sign behind his right shoulder — so his face takes cool blue on the left and warm magenta rim on the right edge of the beard and shoulder, the alley floor throws broken coloured reflections in the puddles, and every gutter and recess beyond those two pools goes to near-black. Water runs in rivulets along the grout seams of the paving and gathers around his boot soles; the smoke and the falling rain visibly bend the same way in the light. Palette restricted to black, wet grey, cold blue and one magenta accent, with the cigarette ember the single warm point. Gritty, rain-soaked, quietly dangerous.
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Original Prompt
Ein Mann, er hat schwarze kurze Haare mit grauen Strähnen und einen grauen Vollbart, er Hat verschiedene Kybernetische Implantate, er trägt eine ärmellose Lederweste die offen ist und seinen freien oberkörper zeigt, er trägt eine Gothic-Cargohose mit silbernen applikationen, er läuft eine Gasse in einer Futuristischen Stadt entlang und raucht eine Zigarrette, eine hand hat er in der Hosentasche, der Nachthimmel ist bewölkt und es regnet
Mode
ultra
Quality Tag
﹝Prompts﹞
Size
1744 x 1152
Negative
lowres, worst quality, low quality, bad anatomy, explicit
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Model & LoRA used

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AI artwork
me
character: david_martinez, copyright: cyberpunk:_edgerunners, cyberpunk_edgerunners 1boy, solo, david_martinez, short hair, brown hair, undercut, mohawk fade, brown eyes, rugged young man, glowing cyberware, chrome plating on arms, yellow jacket, standing, cowboy shot, from below, dutch angle, looking to the side, serious expression, narrowed eyes, rain, rain-slicked streets, neon glow, neon signs, night city, cyberpunk cityscape, tall skyscrapers, holographic advertisements, wet asphalt reflections, cinematic lighting, detailed background, highly detailed, intricate details, masterpiece, best quality, very aesthetic Composed from a low, tilted dutch angle in a cowboy shot, looking up past the figure's hip to his shoulders so the towers and signs lean over him and he reads as small against the vertical city. The young man stands with his weight on his left leg, right leg loose and slightly forward, hips canted; his right hand is hooked loosely through his belt loop at the jacket's hem, the left arm hanging with the fingers half-curled, knuckles catching the neon. His head is turned to his left, chin lifted, eyes narrowed against the drizzle, gaze aimed off-frame toward something above and behind the viewer; mouth set flat, jaw tight. Rain beads on and runs through his brown undercut, the shaved sides darkened and stuck flat, the longer top swept back and dripping, and drips run down his temple and along his jaw. The yellow jacket hangs open over a dark sleeveless top, collar popped against the wet, sleeves pushed to the elbow; the fabric is soaked at the shoulders, darkened and heavy, the hem flaring slightly away from his back where a wind pushes down the alley. Below the elbow the cyberware is exposed on his forearms, segmented plates and cable channels, seams and joint gaps burning with cool cyan-white light that his wet skin and the water droplets pick up as a hard rim on the underside of both arms; the same glow bleeds faintly through the fabric at his shoulder seam. Street level closes in around him: wet asphalt mirroring the signs, a shallow puddle at his left heel holding a stretched, wavering reflection of a pink sign, water tracking in the seams of the pavement and running toward the gutter. Behind him the street recedes between towers whose faces are sheer dark glass, plastered with stacked neon signboards in pink, cyan and acid green, holographic figures flickering above a distant storefront, cables strung across the gap, all of it softened by rain haze and deliberately simplified into layered silhouettes so the near signages read sharp and the far ones dissolve. The palette is disciplined: near-black blue shadow in the buildings and the sky slot, saturated neon in magenta and cyan, and the jacket's yellow as the single warm block in the middle of the frame, bouncing a dull gold back onto his wet jaw and collar. The only key light is the neon itself, spilling from a pink sign at the right and a cyan panel to the left, with no sky light; the rims they carve on his cheeks, shoulder and the chrome are the brightest things in the image, and the shadowed side of his face falls into pure blue-black. Wet surfaces read as darker and softer than the neon they reflect, never as bright as the tubes. Moody, cinematic.
Mya Efta

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