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Daniel Garcia Rosillo

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1girl, solo, tall slender build, large breasts, thick fleshy thighs, long legs, coquettish smile, lopsided smirk, looking at viewer, one eyebrow raised, mid-battle stance, wide stance, low lunge, torso twisted, dual wielding, two glowing batons, glowing green light batons, arms crossed overhead, dynamic pose, leaning forward, long hair swept sideways, ponytail whipping, night, city street, pink walls, graffiti-covered walls, pink convertible, parked car, from below, dutch angle, cowboy shot, foreshortening, motion blur on batons, neon glow, magenta and green palette, shallow depth of field, rim light, wet asphalt, From a low dutch angle in a narrow night street, the tall slender woman drops into a wide split-weighted lunge, front knee bent deep and rear leg stretched, one thick thigh braced and both fleshy thighs flexed with the effort; her torso twists to her right so her large chest and shoulders lean across the frame toward the camera. Both arms are thrust up and across, each hand gripping a light baton — the pair crossed in an X above and to the left of her head, the blades casting a green glow that slides along her cheek, her collarbone and the underside of her breasts. Her hair whips out to the far side of the frame, ponytail arcing and strands catching the neon, and her chin tips down toward the lens while her eyes stay fixed on the viewer under one raised brow, mouth curled in a coquettish lopsided smirk with a glint of teeth. She is planted on the wet street in black boots, and her shadow is thrown long and sharp to her right. Behind her the pink stucco wall runs the length of the alley, plastered with layered graffiti in magenta, acid green and white, the spray-can curves distorted by the wall's texture and by the perspective of the low camera. To her left, a pink convertible sits parked close to the curb, its long hood and chrome bumper catching the neon, a slice of its body silhouetted against the brightest part of the wall. The only light comes from the two green batons, the convertible's chrome reflections, and a dim streetlamp high and behind camera-left; beyond their reach the alley falls into deep blue-black, and the wet asphalt mirrors the green glow in long smeared streaks, each puddle reflection darker and softer than the light it carries. Palette stays strictly pink, green and black, with the graffiti supplying all remaining colour. Cinematic anime night, punchy and electric.
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Original Prompt
Orchid de killer instint, esbelta con pechos grandes y piernas carnosas. Sonriendo coqueta. En una épica pose de batalla con sus dos bastones de luz. Está en una calle de noche con paredes rosas con grafitis y un carro convertible rosa estacionado a un lado.
Mode
flash
Size
1104 x 1824
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dg
1girl, solo, dark-skinned female, short dark hair, large breasts, tall slender build, thick fleshy thighs, coquettish smirk, half-closed eyes, looking at viewer, epic battle pose, wide stance, knees bent, holding two glowing light batons, dual wielding, light trail, night street, pink graffiti-covered walls, pink convertible car parked at the side, full body, from below, dutch angle, foreshortening, dramatic low angle, neon glow, wet asphalt reflections, motion blur on hair, high contrast A low, tilted camera looks up along the empty night street, the whole figure filling the frame edge to edge. A tall, slender woman with short dark hair and warm dark skin stands braced in a wide, athletic battle stance at the center of the asphalt: knees bent and pushed apart, hip cocked to her right, weight sunk low onto her back leg, torso turned slightly so the long line of her body reads from hip to shoulder. She is dressed in a dark fitted combat bodysuit that hugs her tall frame and full bust, the fabric stretching taut across her chest and hips, leaving her fleshy thighs bare below the high cut; her hair flicks out to one side as if caught mid-spin. Her right arm snaps a glowing light baton up across her face, the rod near-vertical, while her left arm drives the second baton out low and to the side; both hands grip the smooth rods tightly, knuckles taut, and each weapon throws a hot spill of light onto her forearm, her cheek and the underside of her chin. She grins at the viewer coquettishly, one brow lifted, one corner of her mouth pulled higher, eyes half-lidded and fixed straight on the lens, chin tipped down so she looks up through her lashes. Behind and beside her, the street walls are plastered pink and scrawled with tag upon tag of dripping graffiti, the color saturating the frame; a pink convertible is parked to the left side of the street, its long chrome flank catching and bending the glow of the two batons along the wet, puddled asphalt, where the reflections stretch and shatter beneath her boots. The batons are the only light source: their cool blue-white flare rakes across her, throws her long shadow back across the graffiti wall, and leaves the far end of the street in utter darkness. The palette is locked to pink, hot blue-white and black asphalt, with her skin the warm note in the middle; crisp clean lines and bright saturated cel shading throughout. Effortlessly stylish, electric.
Daniel Garcia Rosillo
AI artwork
n
1girl, solo, adult, 20 years old, upper body, half body shot, cowboy shot, looking at viewer, expressionless, cool expression, standing, under shop awning, cyberpunk, sci-fi, night, neon lights, pink neon, cyan neon, skyscrapers, elevated walkway, light rain, wet pavement, reflection, huge moon, purple moon, night sky, very long hair, straight hair, jet black hair, waist-length hair, side-swept bangs, hair over one eye, dark blue eyes, sharp eyes, upturned eyes, large eyes, almond eyes, long eyelashes, glossy lips, small chin, light makeup, fair skin, hourglass figure, large breasts, f-cup, narrow waist, wide hips, black jacket, cropped jacket, high collar, white tight top, low-cut, cleavage, black pleated miniskirt, black over-the-knee socks, black boots, short boots, bare thighs, silver collar, choker, sword belt, katana, black handle, black lacquered sheath, sheathed, matte blade, left hand gripping sheath, right hand on hilt, hands on weapon, from below, dutch angle, foreshortening, Shot from below and slightly off-axis, tilted a few degrees so the awning's underside cuts a hard diagonal across the top of the frame: a lone 20-year-old woman stands at the lip of a shop awning, upper body and hips in frame, thighs cropped just below the skirt hem, her boots out of shot. She fills the left-center of the frame; the awning's dark underside and its single hanging tube light run above her head, and past her right shoulder the street opens into depth. She faces the lens squarely, chin level, and looks straight at the viewer — no smile, no tension, her mouth flat and glossy, a cool blank calm. Her dark blue upturned eyes stay half-lidded and level under straight brows, long lashes casting a faint shadow onto her cheekbones; her side-swept bangs fall across the right side of her face and half veil that eye, the rest of her jet black hair hanging straight and heavy past her shoulders to her waist, flattened and darkened along the crown where the rain-damp air touches it. Her weight sinks into her left hip — hip cocked, waist creasing sharply inside the tight white top, jacket hanging open and short above the black pleated skirt. Her left hand closes around the sheathed katana at her sword belt, fingers wrapped around the lacquered scabbard just below the belt loop, thumb pressed flat to the lacquer; her right hand rests higher, palm cupping the black handle at the hilt, index finger laid along the guard. The sheath angles down and back across her hip, so the raised right elbow sits close to her ribs. The thin silver collar band rings her throat above the jacket's towering black collar, one narrow bright arc of metal against her fair skin; the white top's low neckline shows the tops of her breasts and a clear cleavage line, and the cropped jacket's hem leaves a strip of bare midriff above the skirt. Her bare thighs show between the skirt's pleats and the black over-the-knee socks, cool-toned skin with a faint sheen of damp air. The katana is entirely matte: the black lacquered sheath and black handle absorb light with only dull, low-contrast highlights, a slender slightly curved line of dark against the neon, no glowing edge, no aura, nothing luminous along the blade. Overhead, elevated walkways with handrails cross the street in two receding spans, their undersides lit pink from below and their rails catching cyan; behind them the skyscrapers rise in a stack of dark stepped silhouettes. Pink and cyan signs in illegible script climb the facades — vertical signboards down both sides of the street, one huge sign sagging across the gap between towers — blooming into soft halos through the drizzle. A huge dark moon hangs low over the rooftops at the top right, its disc nearly black with a faint purple rim of glow and a thin scrim of cloud crossing its lower edge. The rain is light: fine diagonal streaks visible only where they pass in front of neon, beading as tiny separate points on the shoulders of her jacket, the crown of her hair and the top edge of the awning. The pavement below the awning is soaked and black, and it carries the whole street upside down — pink and cyan smeared into long vertical streaks that break into ripples where drips strike, and the awning's own shadow printed across the wet stone in a matte band where no neon reaches. The tube light under the awning is the source closest to her; it lies above and slightly in front of her, laying a cool white edge along her cheekbones, nose bridge, collarbone and the silver collar, throwing the undersides of her jaw, breasts and jacket into soft shadow, and the neon adds pink on her right side and cyan on her left. Beyond the light's reach the street falls into deep ink-black. Palette discipline: black, jet black hair and lacquered sheath and jacket, white top, and neon pink and cyan, with the single warm-neutral note of her fair skin and silver collar; nothing else admitted. Quiet, icy cool.
Nox

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