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- Original Prompt
- 遊戯王_キース・ハワード、サングラスで目が隠れている、アメリカ国旗の柄のバンダナを頭に付けている、無精ひげ、赤い半袖シャツ、紺色のノースリーブジャケット、シルバーのリストバンド、ベージュ色のズボン、古びた木の椅子にだらけて座っている、古びた木のテーブル、うなだれている、酒瓶を持っている、テーブルの上に大量の酒瓶が置かれている、暗い空間、スポットライト
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- ﹝Prompts﹞
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- Sampling Method
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- Negative
- lowres, worst quality, low quality, bad anatomy, explicit
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に
character: keith_howard, copyright: yu-gi-oh!
1boy, solo, short blonde hair, stubble, sunglasses, eyes hidden, american flag pattern bandana on head, red short-sleeved shirt, navy blue sleeveless jacket, bare arms, silver wristband, beige pants, slouching, hunched over, head down, sitting on old wooden chair, leaning forward, holding bottle, liquor bottle in hand, many bottles on old wooden table, dark room, spotlight, chiaroscuro, from side, cowboy shot, dutch angle, looking down, defeated
A low, slightly tilted side view from just below shoulder height: a lone man sits collapsed forward on an old wooden chair at the near end of a scarred old wooden table, body folded over his own knees. His head hangs heavily, chin toward his chest, the short blonde hair falling forward in messy strands; a pair of dark sunglasses sits in the middle of his face and shows only two dim reflections of the light, hiding the eyes entirely. A bandana printed with the American flag — blue canton with white stars on one side, red and white stripes banding across the rest — is tied around his skull, its knot and loose tails at the back of his head where the hair is crushed flat beneath it. Grey-blonde stubble grains his jaw, cheeks and upper lip, catching the light in fine specks. His shoulders roll forward inside a navy blue sleeveless jacket whose armholes leave his bare arms free; under it a red short-sleeved shirt is bunched and creased across his hunched back, its short sleeves ending above the elbow. A flat silver wristband circles one wrist, throwing a small hard glint. Beige trousers crease deeply at the hips and knees as he slumps, one boot planted flat, the other leg sprawled out, one forearm dropping onto the tabletop to prop his sagging weight, fingers loosely curled around the neck of a liquor bottle that tilts a little in his grip, its base just off the wood.
A crowd of empty and half-empty liquor bottles covers the table around his arm — tall, squat, amber and green glass, some standing, some lying on their sides, a couple rolled to the table's far edge — each stoppered mouth and shoulder catching a small white highlight, and the nearest bottle throws a long thin shadow across the grain. The chair's old wood is worn pale at the arms and back rail, and it takes his weight at a slant, its rear legs dug into the unseen floor.
The room is a dark space: beyond the spotlight the blackness is absolute, no wall, no door, nothing but the table edge and the chair fading out. One hard cone of light drops from above and slightly behind his left shoulder, striking the crown of the bandana, the tops of his shoulders, the rim of the sunglasses and the table's bottles; his face beneath them falls into shadow, and his thrown shadow stretches away from camera across the tabletop. Palette of deep black, warm amber glass and lamplight, muted red, navy and beige. Quiet ruin.
にばんめ
に
character: keith_howard, copyright: yu-gi-oh!
1boy, solo, short blonde hair, stubble, sunglasses, eyes hidden, american flag pattern bandana on head, red short-sleeved shirt, navy blue sleeveless jacket, bare arms, silver wristband, beige pants, slouching, hunched over, head down, sitting on old wooden chair, leaning forward, holding bottle, liquor bottle in hand, many bottles on old wooden table, dark room, spotlight, chiaroscuro, from side, cowboy shot, dutch angle, looking down, defeated
A low, slightly tilted side view from just below shoulder height: a lone man sits collapsed forward on an old wooden chair at the near end of a scarred old wooden table, body folded over his own knees. His head hangs heavily, chin toward his chest, the short blonde hair falling forward in messy strands; a pair of dark sunglasses sits in the middle of his face and shows only two dim reflections of the light, hiding the eyes entirely. A bandana printed with the American flag — blue canton with white stars on one side, red and white stripes banding across the rest — is tied around his skull, its knot and loose tails at the back of his head where the hair is crushed flat beneath it. Grey-blonde stubble grains his jaw, cheeks and upper lip, catching the light in fine specks. His shoulders roll forward inside a navy blue sleeveless jacket whose armholes leave his bare arms free; under it a red short-sleeved shirt is bunched and creased across his hunched back, its short sleeves ending above the elbow. A flat silver wristband circles one wrist, throwing a small hard glint. Beige trousers crease deeply at the hips and knees as he slumps, one boot planted flat, the other leg sprawled out, one forearm dropping onto the tabletop to prop his sagging weight, fingers loosely curled around the neck of a liquor bottle that tilts a little in his grip, its base just off the wood.
A crowd of empty and half-empty liquor bottles covers the table around his arm — tall, squat, amber and green glass, some standing, some lying on their sides, a couple rolled to the table's far edge — each stoppered mouth and shoulder catching a small white highlight, and the nearest bottle throws a long thin shadow across the grain. The chair's old wood is worn pale at the arms and back rail, and it takes his weight at a slant, its rear legs dug into the unseen floor.
The room is a dark space: beyond the spotlight the blackness is absolute, no wall, no door, nothing but the table edge and the chair fading out. One hard cone of light drops from above and slightly behind his left shoulder, striking the crown of the bandana, the tops of his shoulders, the rim of the sunglasses and the table's bottles; his face beneath them falls into shadow, and his thrown shadow stretches away from camera across the tabletop. Palette of deep black, warm amber glass and lamplight, muted red, navy and beige. Quiet ruin.
にばんめ
に
character: keith_howard, copyright: yu-gi-oh!
1boy, solo, sunglasses, eyewear covering eyes, bandana on head, american flag pattern, stubble, short blonde hair, red short-sleeved shirt, navy blue sleeveless jacket, silver wristband, beige pants, old wooden chair, leaning back, sitting, slumped, head down, head hung low, holding bottle, liquor bottle in hand, many bottles on table, old wooden table, dark room, spotlight, front view, facing viewer, cowboy shot, dutch angle, from below, dejected, gloomy
A man sits front-on to the camera in an old wooden chair, the shot taken from slightly below so the chair's back rail rises behind his shoulders and the table edge cuts a low horizontal across the bottom of the frame. He is slumped back hard into the chair: pelvis pushed forward on the seat, spine bowed so his back and shoulder blades press into the chair's rear rail, head hung down so his chin nearly meets his collarbone, the short blonde hair falling forward with the weight. An American-flag-patterned bandana is knotted around his head, the stripes and star field wrapping the curve of his skull above his brow. Dark sunglasses hide his eyes completely; only the stubble darkening his jaw and upper lip catches the light below the frames. He wears a red short-sleeved shirt, bare forearms exposed, with a navy blue sleeveless jacket open over it, silver wristbands banding each wrist. Beige pants; his knees are apart, one boot planted flat forward, the other foot slack and turned out. His right hand hangs between his knees loosely gripping the neck of a liquor bottle, the bottle's base resting on his thigh, tilted some forty degrees toward the floor, its contents pooled low along one side of the glass. His left arm lies limp along the chair arm.
In front of him, the old wooden table: its surface is crowded with many empty and half-empty liquor bottles of mismatched shapes, shoulders and necks silvered where the spotlight grazes them, their shadows fanning away from the light. Every bottle casts its own tapered shadow, and the ones near the table's edge hang a little over the drop. The chair legs and the table legs plant on a floor that disappears into blackness beyond the light.
The spotlight is the only light source: a hard cone from high front-left strikes the crown of his bandana, the star field and stripes lit bright, runs down the side of his face and the stubble, catches the rim of the sunglasses, and pools on the tabletop around the bottles. Behind and beneath that pool the darkness is absolute — no walls, no visible room, just black. Cool white key against the smeared warm amber of the bottle glass; the palette is red, navy, beige and the paper-white of the light on the flag bandana's stars, nothing else admitted. The spotlight cone is faintly visible as haze in the air where it passes above the table, and it is that haze, more than anything, that makes the emptiness of the room legible. Bleak, heavy quiet.
にばんめ
に
character: keith_howard, copyright: yu-gi-oh!
1boy, solo, sunglasses, eyewear covering eyes, bandana on head, american flag pattern, stubble, short blonde hair, red short-sleeved shirt, navy blue sleeveless jacket, silver wristband, beige pants, old wooden chair, leaning back, sitting, slumped, head down, head hung low, holding bottle, liquor bottle in hand, many bottles on table, old wooden table, dark room, spotlight, front view, facing viewer, cowboy shot, dutch angle, from below, dejected, gloomy
A man sits front-on to the camera in an old wooden chair, the shot taken from slightly below so the chair's back rail rises behind his shoulders and the table edge cuts a low horizontal across the bottom of the frame. He is slumped back hard into the chair: pelvis pushed forward on the seat, spine bowed so his back and shoulder blades press into the chair's rear rail, head hung down so his chin nearly meets his collarbone, the short blonde hair falling forward with the weight. An American-flag-patterned bandana is knotted around his head, the stripes and star field wrapping the curve of his skull above his brow. Dark sunglasses hide his eyes completely; only the stubble darkening his jaw and upper lip catches the light below the frames. He wears a red short-sleeved shirt, bare forearms exposed, with a navy blue sleeveless jacket open over it, silver wristbands banding each wrist. Beige pants; his knees are apart, one boot planted flat forward, the other foot slack and turned out. His right hand hangs between his knees loosely gripping the neck of a liquor bottle, the bottle's base resting on his thigh, tilted some forty degrees toward the floor, its contents pooled low along one side of the glass. His left arm lies limp along the chair arm.
In front of him, the old wooden table: its surface is crowded with many empty and half-empty liquor bottles of mismatched shapes, shoulders and necks silvered where the spotlight grazes them, their shadows fanning away from the light. Every bottle casts its own tapered shadow, and the ones near the table's edge hang a little over the drop. The chair legs and the table legs plant on a floor that disappears into blackness beyond the light.
The spotlight is the only light source: a hard cone from high front-left strikes the crown of his bandana, the star field and stripes lit bright, runs down the side of his face and the stubble, catches the rim of the sunglasses, and pools on the tabletop around the bottles. Behind and beneath that pool the darkness is absolute — no walls, no visible room, just black. Cool white key against the smeared warm amber of the bottle glass; the palette is red, navy, beige and the paper-white of the light on the flag bandana's stars, nothing else admitted. The spotlight cone is faintly visible as haze in the air where it passes above the table, and it is that haze, more than anything, that makes the emptiness of the room legible. Bleak, heavy quiet.
にばんめ
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