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- Original Prompt
- 20歳ほどの美人 169cm Cカップ 白髪の腰まで届く長髪と金の瞳 マントを羽織っている 体のラインに沿った黒いコルセットミニドレスと黒いタイツ 銀の王冠を被っている スレンダーな体つき 冥王 【霊剣モルス】を持っている 蔦の意匠が施された西洋剣 足を組んで玉座に座っている 薄暗い謁見の間 冷たい表情
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- pro
- Style
- Water-Infused Oil
- Quality Tag
- ﹝Prompts﹞
- Size
- 1104 x 1824
- Negative
- lowres, worst quality, low quality, bad anatomy, explicit, (nsfw:1.2),(nude:1.6),(nipple:1.2),naked
Style: Water-Infused Oil
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Show moree1
白髪の女王・玉座の剣
eitaeita.1007@icloud.com
e1
玉座に佇む白銀の王女
eitaeita.1007@icloud.com
e1
1girl, solo only, beautiful woman in her twenties, 169cm tall, slender build, C-cup, long white hair to waist, gold eyes, silver crown on head, cape over shoulders, black corset minidress fitted to body line, black tights, crossed legs, sitting on throne, holding sword, western sword, ivy motif sword, cold expression, cold stare, half-closed eyes, low angle, from below, wide shot, royal throne room, dark hall, dramatic lighting, painterly anime illustration, luminous watercolor light, soft oil texture, atmospheric
From a low angle looking up, a single woman sits enthroned in a vast dark hall: her chin lifted a fraction, eyelids low and lids heavy, mouth a flat line, her gaze aimed straight past the crown of the viewer's head into the far distance of the chamber rather than at anyone in it. Her long white hair falls past her shoulders and spools down to her waist, one lock sliding forward over the cloak's collar while the rest lies trapped between her back and the throne's high carved backrest. A slender silver crown sits level on her head, its points catching a hard cold glint. Her legs are crossed at the knee, the top thigh draped over the lower, both sheathed in black tights, one foot suspended off the floor with the toe pointed toward the tiles; the black corset minidress follows the line of her ribs, waist and hip with no slack, boning seams and a laced front running down her center. The cloak is fastened at the shoulders and spills outward across the chair's arm and down over the dais step in heavy folds, so the garment brackets her silhouette on both sides.
Her right hand rests atop the sword hilt, fingers wrapped around the grip and thumb laid along it; the western blade stands point-down on the stone floor between her knee and the chair's edge, and the sword's guard and cross-piece are chased with carved ivy vines and leaves winding the full length of the steel. The tip of the blade meets its own small notch in the flagstone, a single sharp contact. Her left forearm lies along the throne's armrest, wrist slack.
The source of illumination is one narrow shaft of pale cold light falling from a high window slit behind and above her left shoulder; it burns across the crown, the white hair and the polished ivy on the sword, and leaves the far half of the hall in absolute darkness beyond the dais. Cold palette only: black, silver-white and the gold of her eyes against deep blue-grey shadow; the red-black of the throne's dark upholstery stays nearly swallowed by shade. Tiny dust motes drift through the light shaft. Painterly anime illustration, broad airy brushstrokes, luminous watercolor bleed into the dark, soft oil texture. Still, imperious, cold.
eitaeita.1007@icloud.com
e1
1girl, solo, 19 years old, tall, 169cm, slender, C-cup, peerless beauty, waist-length white hair, long straight white hair, gold eyes, crown, cape, cape over shoulders, black corset minidress, form-fitting dress, corset, black tights, crossed legs, sitting, throne, holding sword, western sword, purple ornamentation on blade, cold expression, expressionless, jitome, half-closed eyes, seated, full body, from below, dutch angle, throne room, dim, purple and gold lighting, painterly, brush texture, sketch-like linework, cool teal shadows, warm gold highlights
From a low, tilted angle near the foot of the dais, the throne towers in the frame's upper half while she fills the lower center, seen from below and slightly to her right so the crossed legs are pushed toward the lens in strong foreshortening. She is a slender young woman of about nineteen, 169 cm tall, with a C-cup bust held in a black corset minidress that follows the line of her waist and hips without a crease — the boning channels pull taut and the laces sit flat against her spine. Waist-length white hair falls straight past the small of her back and pools where it meets the seat, one strand caught under her hip. Her legs are crossed right over left, black tights stretched sheer over the knee of the top leg, the suspended foot hanging with the toe pointed and the ankle relaxed; her weight sits back into the left side of the seat, right hip lifted slightly by the cross. A cape is draped over her shoulders, its hem spilling down the throne's arm and over the step, the folds catching the cold light along their ridges. A crown rests level on her head, its points catching one bright spark. In her right hand, angled across her lap and resting its flat along her thigh, she holds the spirit sword Mors: a western-style blade with a purple design worked into the guard and the fuller, the metal gleaming dull violet where the light rakes it. Her left hand lies slack over the armrest, fingertips curled just over the edge. Her chin is level, her eyes half-lidded in a cold, flat stare directed straight down the aisle at the viewer, mouth set without a curve. The only light is a single shaft from a high window behind and above her left shoulder, rimming her hair and crown and the top edge of the cape in cold teal while warm gold grazes the sword's purple ornamentation and the tops of her knees; everything below the dais steps falls into absolute darkness. The palette holds to white, black, cold teal and the one warm gold accent on the blade, with purple confined to the sword's design and the throne's shadowed velvet. Her hair's ends and the cape's hem drift a few centimeters as though the hall's air is moving, the only motion in the still frame. Cold, regal.
eitaeita.1007@icloud.com
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