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C9I

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C9I

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horror, dark fantasy, gothic surrealism, wide shot, low horizon, extreme wide shot, dutch angle, 1 scarecrow, rotting scarecrow, tattered burlap, shredded clothing, wooden arms, straw hat, torn face, burlap face torn open, faceless, dark void inside head, hollow empty torso void, standing crooked, leaning on wooden post, dead cornfield, november, frozen crops, frost-covered ground, heavy frost, dead trees, bare branches, black ravens, many ravens, murder of crows, ravens perched on arms, ravens on straw hat, glowing eyes, hollow_eyes, glowing hollow eyes, overcast, barren overcast sky, thick fog, gray fog, cold palette, desaturated, black and gray, pale sickly tones, chiaroscuro, heavy shadow, backlit, rim light, film grain, cold, desolate, oppressive, still, no text A cinematic wide shot from a low, slightly tilted dutch angle, camera a knee-high distance back in the frozen field so the scarecrow stands small but unmistakable against a vast sunken overcast sky, occupying under a quarter of the frame and pushed to the right third, off-center. The scarecrow is a nailed-together cross of rough dark timber buried in the earth at a lean; two wooden arms run out horizontally, splintered at the ends, one slightly dropped lower than the other. Its coat and trousers hang in rotten shreds, stiff with frost and heavy with damp, holed through so the pale sky shows between the rags; a coarse straw hat sits cocked on the post-top head, its brim frayed, its crown split. The burlap face is torn clean open across the front: no features remain, only a ragged-edged hole and a pure lightless void inside the sack, a mouth of nothing that swallows the fog light. One crooked wooden hand points away toward the treeline. Ravens crowd the structure in a loose murder: two clamped on the left wooden arm with their claws dug into the splintered wood, one hunched on the right arm at the wrist joint, a third perched square on the peak of the straw hat with its beak angled down, and more sitting along the arms' ends and on the shoulder nail point. Their bodies are near-black against the pale sky; their eyes burn with small cold hollow lights, ringed in dark sockets, and every head is turned inward or down toward the scarecrow's torn face -- the birds stare, none looks at the lens. The nearest bird on the left arm is in profile, feather detail crisp; the far birds reduce to black silhouettes without flattening. The dead November cornfield fills the midground: stalks snapped and bent in a broken tide, leaves frozen mid-curl, every husk and broken tassel crusted with thick white frost so the field reads as a pale brittle sea of spikes. The frost is heaviest on upward-facing surfaces only -- the tops of the snapped stalks and the flat plane of the ground glitter white -- while the undersides of leaves and the shaded sides of the furrows stay raw umber-gray. The fog sits low and thick among the corn rows, swallowing the field's far edge and the bases of the dead trees beyond; the treeline is a mass of bare black branchwork, thin and skeletal, fading into gray haze with distance. Light comes from a single diffuse overcast source, cold and high behind the treeline and slightly behind the scarecrow, so the figure and every bird are mostly in shadow and drawn out by a thin pale rim along the hat brim, the wooden arms and the birds' backs; deep chiaroscuro keeps the hollow of the torn face absolute black and pools real darkness between the corn rows. No sun, no warm tone anywhere: the palette is desaturated blacks, cold grays and sickly pale bone-white frost, nothing else admitted. A fine heavy film grain rides the whole frame. The air is dead still -- the fog hangs without drifting, the stalks stand unmoved, the birds hold absolutely motionless. Oppressive, funereal, silent.
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Original Prompt
Dark art horror illustration of a tattered, rotting scarecrow in a dead November cornfield covered in the first heavy frost. A murder of black ravens is perched on its wooden arms and straw hat, staring with glowing, hollow eyes. The scarecrow's burlap face is torn, revealing a dark, empty void inside. Dead, frozen crops, thick gray fog, a barren, overcast sky, dead trees in the background. Cold, desolate, oppressive silence, gothic surrealism, hyperdetailed, chiaroscuro, desaturated blacks, cold grays, sickly pale tones, cinematic wide shot, film grain, by Zdzisล‚aw Beksiล„ski, masterpiece, 8K --ar 3:2 --v 6
Mode
pro
Size
992 x 992
Sampling Method
Euler
Negative
lowres, worst quality, low quality, bad anatomy, explicit
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Model & LoRA used

Tsubaki.3 - AI Model cover image

PixAI DiT.3

Tsubaki.3
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AI artwork
Avatar image of C9I
horror, dark fantasy, gothic surrealism, wide shot, low horizon, extreme wide shot, dutch angle, 1 scarecrow, rotting scarecrow, tattered burlap, shredded clothing, wooden arms, straw hat, torn face, burlap face torn open, faceless, dark void inside head, hollow empty torso void, standing crooked, leaning on wooden post, dead cornfield, november, frozen crops, frost-covered ground, heavy frost, dead trees, bare branches, black ravens, many ravens, murder of crows, ravens perched on arms, ravens on straw hat, glowing eyes, hollow_eyes, glowing hollow eyes, overcast, barren overcast sky, thick fog, gray fog, cold palette, desaturated, black and gray, pale sickly tones, chiaroscuro, heavy shadow, backlit, rim light, film grain, cold, desolate, oppressive, still, no text A cinematic wide shot from a low, slightly tilted dutch angle, camera a knee-high distance back in the frozen field so the scarecrow stands small but unmistakable against a vast sunken overcast sky, occupying under a quarter of the frame and pushed to the right third, off-center. The scarecrow is a nailed-together cross of rough dark timber buried in the earth at a lean; two wooden arms run out horizontally, splintered at the ends, one slightly dropped lower than the other. Its coat and trousers hang in rotten shreds, stiff with frost and heavy with damp, holed through so the pale sky shows between the rags; a coarse straw hat sits cocked on the post-top head, its brim frayed, its crown split. The burlap face is torn clean open across the front: no features remain, only a ragged-edged hole and a pure lightless void inside the sack, a mouth of nothing that swallows the fog light. One crooked wooden hand points away toward the treeline. Ravens crowd the structure in a loose murder: two clamped on the left wooden arm with their claws dug into the splintered wood, one hunched on the right arm at the wrist joint, a third perched square on the peak of the straw hat with its beak angled down, and more sitting along the arms' ends and on the shoulder nail point. Their bodies are near-black against the pale sky; their eyes burn with small cold hollow lights, ringed in dark sockets, and every head is turned inward or down toward the scarecrow's torn face -- the birds stare, none looks at the lens. The nearest bird on the left arm is in profile, feather detail crisp; the far birds reduce to black silhouettes without flattening. The dead November cornfield fills the midground: stalks snapped and bent in a broken tide, leaves frozen mid-curl, every husk and broken tassel crusted with thick white frost so the field reads as a pale brittle sea of spikes. The frost is heaviest on upward-facing surfaces only -- the tops of the snapped stalks and the flat plane of the ground glitter white -- while the undersides of leaves and the shaded sides of the furrows stay raw umber-gray. The fog sits low and thick among the corn rows, swallowing the field's far edge and the bases of the dead trees beyond; the treeline is a mass of bare black branchwork, thin and skeletal, fading into gray haze with distance. Light comes from a single diffuse overcast source, cold and high behind the treeline and slightly behind the scarecrow, so the figure and every bird are mostly in shadow and drawn out by a thin pale rim along the hat brim, the wooden arms and the birds' backs; deep chiaroscuro keeps the hollow of the torn face absolute black and pools real darkness between the corn rows. No sun, no warm tone anywhere: the palette is desaturated blacks, cold grays and sickly pale bone-white frost, nothing else admitted. A fine heavy film grain rides the whole frame. The air is dead still -- the fog hangs without drifting, the stalks stand unmoved, the birds hold absolutely motionless. Oppressive, funereal, silent.
C9I
AI artwork
Avatar image of C9I
horror, dark fantasy, gothic surrealism, wide shot, low horizon, extreme wide shot, dutch angle, 1 scarecrow, rotting scarecrow, tattered burlap, shredded clothing, wooden arms, straw hat, torn face, burlap face torn open, faceless, dark void inside head, hollow empty torso void, standing crooked, leaning on wooden post, dead cornfield, november, frozen crops, frost-covered ground, heavy frost, dead trees, bare branches, black ravens, many ravens, murder of crows, ravens perched on arms, ravens on straw hat, glowing eyes, hollow_eyes, glowing hollow eyes, overcast, barren overcast sky, thick fog, gray fog, cold palette, desaturated, black and gray, pale sickly tones, chiaroscuro, heavy shadow, backlit, rim light, film grain, cold, desolate, oppressive, still, no text A cinematic wide shot from a low, slightly tilted dutch angle, camera a knee-high distance back in the frozen field so the scarecrow stands small but unmistakable against a vast sunken overcast sky, occupying under a quarter of the frame and pushed to the right third, off-center. The scarecrow is a nailed-together cross of rough dark timber buried in the earth at a lean; two wooden arms run out horizontally, splintered at the ends, one slightly dropped lower than the other. Its coat and trousers hang in rotten shreds, stiff with frost and heavy with damp, holed through so the pale sky shows between the rags; a coarse straw hat sits cocked on the post-top head, its brim frayed, its crown split. The burlap face is torn clean open across the front: no features remain, only a ragged-edged hole and a pure lightless void inside the sack, a mouth of nothing that swallows the fog light. One crooked wooden hand points away toward the treeline. Ravens crowd the structure in a loose murder: two clamped on the left wooden arm with their claws dug into the splintered wood, one hunched on the right arm at the wrist joint, a third perched square on the peak of the straw hat with its beak angled down, and more sitting along the arms' ends and on the shoulder nail point. Their bodies are near-black against the pale sky; their eyes burn with small cold hollow lights, ringed in dark sockets, and every head is turned inward or down toward the scarecrow's torn face -- the birds stare, none looks at the lens. The nearest bird on the left arm is in profile, feather detail crisp; the far birds reduce to black silhouettes without flattening. The dead November cornfield fills the midground: stalks snapped and bent in a broken tide, leaves frozen mid-curl, every husk and broken tassel crusted with thick white frost so the field reads as a pale brittle sea of spikes. The frost is heaviest on upward-facing surfaces only -- the tops of the snapped stalks and the flat plane of the ground glitter white -- while the undersides of leaves and the shaded sides of the furrows stay raw umber-gray. The fog sits low and thick among the corn rows, swallowing the field's far edge and the bases of the dead trees beyond; the treeline is a mass of bare black branchwork, thin and skeletal, fading into gray haze with distance. Light comes from a single diffuse overcast source, cold and high behind the treeline and slightly behind the scarecrow, so the figure and every bird are mostly in shadow and drawn out by a thin pale rim along the hat brim, the wooden arms and the birds' backs; deep chiaroscuro keeps the hollow of the torn face absolute black and pools real darkness between the corn rows. No sun, no warm tone anywhere: the palette is desaturated blacks, cold grays and sickly pale bone-white frost, nothing else admitted. A fine heavy film grain rides the whole frame. The air is dead still -- the fog hangs without drifting, the stalks stand unmoved, the birds hold absolutely motionless. Oppressive, funereal, silent.
C9I
AI artwork
Avatar image of C9I
horror, dark fantasy, gothic surrealism, wide shot, low horizon, extreme wide shot, dutch angle, 1 scarecrow, rotting scarecrow, tattered burlap, shredded clothing, wooden arms, straw hat, torn face, burlap face torn open, faceless, dark void inside head, hollow empty torso void, standing crooked, leaning on wooden post, dead cornfield, november, frozen crops, frost-covered ground, heavy frost, dead trees, bare branches, black ravens, many ravens, murder of crows, ravens perched on arms, ravens on straw hat, glowing eyes, hollow_eyes, glowing hollow eyes, overcast, barren overcast sky, thick fog, gray fog, cold palette, desaturated, black and gray, pale sickly tones, chiaroscuro, heavy shadow, backlit, rim light, film grain, cold, desolate, oppressive, still, no text A cinematic wide shot from a low, slightly tilted dutch angle, camera a knee-high distance back in the frozen field so the scarecrow stands small but unmistakable against a vast sunken overcast sky, occupying under a quarter of the frame and pushed to the right third, off-center. The scarecrow is a nailed-together cross of rough dark timber buried in the earth at a lean; two wooden arms run out horizontally, splintered at the ends, one slightly dropped lower than the other. Its coat and trousers hang in rotten shreds, stiff with frost and heavy with damp, holed through so the pale sky shows between the rags; a coarse straw hat sits cocked on the post-top head, its brim frayed, its crown split. The burlap face is torn clean open across the front: no features remain, only a ragged-edged hole and a pure lightless void inside the sack, a mouth of nothing that swallows the fog light. One crooked wooden hand points away toward the treeline. Ravens crowd the structure in a loose murder: two clamped on the left wooden arm with their claws dug into the splintered wood, one hunched on the right arm at the wrist joint, a third perched square on the peak of the straw hat with its beak angled down, and more sitting along the arms' ends and on the shoulder nail point. Their bodies are near-black against the pale sky; their eyes burn with small cold hollow lights, ringed in dark sockets, and every head is turned inward or down toward the scarecrow's torn face -- the birds stare, none looks at the lens. The nearest bird on the left arm is in profile, feather detail crisp; the far birds reduce to black silhouettes without flattening. The dead November cornfield fills the midground: stalks snapped and bent in a broken tide, leaves frozen mid-curl, every husk and broken tassel crusted with thick white frost so the field reads as a pale brittle sea of spikes. The frost is heaviest on upward-facing surfaces only -- the tops of the snapped stalks and the flat plane of the ground glitter white -- while the undersides of leaves and the shaded sides of the furrows stay raw umber-gray. The fog sits low and thick among the corn rows, swallowing the field's far edge and the bases of the dead trees beyond; the treeline is a mass of bare black branchwork, thin and skeletal, fading into gray haze with distance. Light comes from a single diffuse overcast source, cold and high behind the treeline and slightly behind the scarecrow, so the figure and every bird are mostly in shadow and drawn out by a thin pale rim along the hat brim, the wooden arms and the birds' backs; deep chiaroscuro keeps the hollow of the torn face absolute black and pools real darkness between the corn rows. No sun, no warm tone anywhere: the palette is desaturated blacks, cold grays and sickly pale bone-white frost, nothing else admitted. A fine heavy film grain rides the whole frame. The air is dead still -- the fog hangs without drifting, the stalks stand unmoved, the birds hold absolutely motionless. Oppressive, funereal, silent.
C9I
AI artwork
Avatar image of C9I
1 raven, no humans, giant bird, raven, black plumage, iridescent feathers, perched, standing still, motionless, looking into the distance, looking away, from behind, from below, wide shot, cinematic composition, landscape, night, snow, snow-covered scarecrow, twisted scarecrow, tattered burlap, frayed twine, empty field, fog, pale moon, moonlight, cloud, deep blacks, monochrome, silver and pale grey palette, film grain, dark, melancholic, gothic, silent, no text, no watermark, no signature From behind and slightly below, a cinematic wide shot of a vast empty field at night, the giant raven perched at the top of a twisted snow-covered scarecrow, its dark silhouette small against an expansive foggy environment and negative space. The scarecrow's crooked wooden crossbeam leans to one side, a tattered burlap sack body and frayed twine arms slumped under a layer of snow that gathers only on upward-facing surfaces. The raven, a giant black bird with iridescent plumage, stands completely still on the scarecrow's shoulder with its head turned away from the camera, looking out into the darkness toward the far treeline; talons grip and compress the snow-capped crossbar where it meets the wood. Its long shape throws the eye across the empty field, the snow unbroken except for a faint suggestion of the scarecrow's shadow. The pale moon sits behind banks of cloud, the only light source in the image, casting a cold silver edge on the snow and the bird's back; everything beyond that quiet rim falls into absolute crushed blacks. Fog swallows the field's far edge, muting depth into layered silver-grey. The palette is strictly deep black, silver and pale grey, with fine film grain across the whole surface, the image completely free of written text, watermark, or signature. Deeply melancholic and gothic, silent.
C9I

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