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AI art "One of my first prompts on PixAi" featuring #Sky, #Outdoors, #Ruins, #Post-apocalypse, #Clenched fist, #Overcast and #Renewal
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One of my first prompts on PixAi

Running from the monster that pursues in the gray days following the apocalypse…

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Breath of Fresh Air 🐇😈
#Sky#Outdoors#Ruins#Post-apocalypse#Clenched fist#Overcast
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1boy, solo focus, running toward the viewer, running from monster, 2 subjects total, monstrous figure, dark silhouette, background figure, fog, ruins, post-apocalyptic, grime, ashes, wind, decay, dynamic pose, from below, foreshortening, dutch angle, motion blur, short dark brown hair, messy hair, soot smudge on cheek, olive-green tactical jacket, charcoal grey t-shirt, dark denim jeans, frayed hems, brown leather boots, wide-eyed, gritted teeth, looking back over shoulder, outstretched arm, clenched fist, dust cloud, debris, crumbling buildings, gray sky, backlight, silhouette, ominous atmosphere The shot is taken from low to the ground and slightly off-axis, tilted a few degrees, so that the boy's sprinting figure looms and foreshortens toward the lens: the viewer is placed low in his path as he charges forward. His left boot plants hard in the ash-caked rubble in the near foreground, sole grinding into the debris mid-stride; his right leg drives back, knee folded, boot toe just peeling off the ground behind him. Torso pitched forward over that leading foot, olive-green tactical jacket flapping open and streaming back off his shoulders as the wind whips through, the charcoal t-shirt beneath dark with sweat and grime. Both arms swing in a hard counter-rotation—his right fist punched forward at chest height, knuckles whitened, his left arm swept back behind his hip. His chin is turned over his right shoulder, eyes wide, brows pulled up and in, mouth open and teeth bared in a hard exhalation, one raw glance thrown back at what follows him. Short-cropped dark brown hair is shoved flat against his skull by the forward rush, a smear of soot dragged across his right cheekbone, another along his jaw. His boots are scuffed through to pale leather at the toes, denim hems unraveling into threads that whip around his ankles. Behind him and far down the ruined avenue, a monstrous figure stands in the fog as a pure black silhouette, tall and wrong in its proportions—hunched shoulders too wide, a long head tilted, limbs that hang a beat too long—edge-fuzzed by the mist and entirely without interior detail, closing on the boy's back. The ruins stack in receding layers between them: broken facades with their windows punched out, a concrete slab leaning across the street, a bent streetlight, everything scoured and grayed, choked with decay and drifts of ash that pile only on the upward-facing ledges of the wreckage. Fog fills the deep distance, thinning as it approaches the lens so the boy's near shoulder reads sharp against it while the monster dissolves into gray. Wind is visible in the horizontal streaming of ash and dust across the whole width of the frame, in the flap of the jacket, in the threadbare hems snapping around his boots. The light comes from a broad, sourceless gray sky overhead, cold and diffuse, so shadows pool under his jaw, inside the open jacket and beneath the rubble lips; the deepest contrast sits between the boy's lit near shoulder and the black silhouette behind him. Palette is nearly monochrome—ash gray, dust beige, the desaturated olive of the jacket the only color note, brown boots and skin warming it faintly. Grim, breathless dread.
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Original Prompt
Running from the monster that pursues in the gray days following the apocalypse… 1boy running toward the viewer, dark silhouette of a monsterous figure in the background, fog, ruins, post-apocalyptic aesthetic, grime, ashes, wind, decay,
Mode
pro
Quality Tag
﹝Prompts﹞
Size
1824 x 1104
Sampling Method
Euler
Negative
lowres, worst quality, low quality, bad anatomy, explicit, from behind,
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Model & LoRA used

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AI artwork
Avatar image of Ai…Whut?
1person, running, running away, fear, terrified, desperate expression, open mouth, sweat, tattered grey hooded sweatshirt, frayed cuffs, soot stains, olive drab cargo pants, torn knees, worn brown leather hiking boots, mid-stride, arms pumping, looking back over shoulder, wide-eyed, chasing, towering gaunt monster, pale translucent skin, skeletal frame, long spindly limbs, blackened claws, wide maw, needle-like teeth, sharp teeth, from behind, dutch angle, foreshortening, dynamic perspective, apocalyptic scenery, ruined city street, collapsed buildings, ash falling, overcast gray sky, flat gray light, dust haze, motion blur on background, depth of field, Seen from behind and low, close to the wet asphalt, the terrified runner fills the left half of the frame mid-stride: their right hiking boot is planted hard on cracked pavement, the sole's tread compressed flat against the ground while the left boot is lifted behind, laces whipping, and their torso twists so the head snaps back over the right shoulder, mouth open in a scream of breath, eyes wide and fixed on the thing behind them. Their arms pump unevenly, the left hand fisted at chest height, the right flung back for balance, the frayed cuffs of the grey hooded sweatshirt dragging and the soot-stained olive drab cargo pants torn at one knee. The camera tips into a dutch angle so the horizon slants and the street rushes away; foreshortening pulls the runner's body toward the lens and compresses the distance behind them. In that distance, filling the right third of the frame and taller than the broken streetlights, the gaunt pursuer strides through the haze, its pale translucent skin showing the dark architecture of its ribs, long spindly limbs swinging with a terrible unhurried length, blackened claws splayed at the ends of its fingers, and its wide maw hung open to show rows of needle-like teeth. It is not sprinting; it is simply walking fast enough that the gap is closing, and that is the horror. Its head is tilted down toward the runner, the hollow shadow of its eye sockets locked on them. The street is a gutter of the end of the world: collapsed facades with their windows blown black, a burned-out car shoved up onto the curb, drift lines of ash and shredded paper along the gutters, a snapped utility pole trailing lines across the road. Nothing green survives. The sky is a solid overcast slab of gray with no sun disc, so the light is flat and sourceless and cold, and shadows are soft smudges rather than shapes; a faint warm ember glow leaks from one broken basement window and is the only color in the frame besides the olive of the pants. Ash falls in slow flakes and settles only on upward-facing surfaces -- the shoulders of the burned car, the flat crown of the monster's skull -- while the runner's hood and back stay streaked clean by speed. Dust kicks up behind each planted boot and hangs in the still air. Palette: charcoal, ash white, cold slate gray, with the olive of the pants and the warm brown of the boots as the only saturated notes. Wide lens, deep focus on the runner, the monster softened slightly by haze, motion blur smearing the background. Quiet dread, desperate.
Ai…Whut?

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