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近未来 路地裏
Show Parameters
- Original Prompt
- 路地裏、セクシーでエロい美女ロボコップ（顎の輪郭は整っている。光沢のある唇を持つ。ウエストが信じられないほど程い、信じられないほど巨大な胸を持つ、ロボコップアーマーとヘルメットとバイザーがある。表情は不明。）が敵キャラクター（美しい黒髪、片目が隠れる程長い前髪に若く色っぽい、カッコいい光沢があるライダージャケットを着て、光沢があるレザーパンツを履いている大変若く美しい中性的な18歳美少年長身美形）にキス攻撃で主導権を取られて負ける美女ロボコップ。
- Mode
- flash
- Size
- 1232 x 1232
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copyright: robocop
2girls, 1boy, robocop, cyborg woman, robocop armor, robocop helmet, visor, well-defined jawline, glossy lips, unbelievably slim waist, huge breasts, mouth slightly open, expressionless, restrained, bound arms, captured, enemy, tall bishounen, androgynous, handsome, very young man, long black hair, hair over one eye, seductive, glossy black rider jacket, glossy black leather pants, alley, back street, from side, dutch angle, cowboy shot, night, rim light, wet asphalt
The camera sits low and off-axis in a narrow back alley, tilted a few degrees so the brick walls converge: the robocop woman fills the left two-thirds, held from behind and slightly to her right by the young man, who is taller and stands close so his chest is at her shoulder blade. He has hooked his left forearm across her upper arms and pinioned them behind her back at the small of her waist — her gauntleted hands are locked palm-to-palm against her own spine, wrists pressed together under his grip, and his right hand closes on her opposite shoulder, fingertips denting the armor's shoulder plate. Her weight has shifted onto her back foot, one hip cocked, her breastplate pushed forward by the arm bar so the huge curve of her chest strains the armor's chest plate, the impossibly narrow waist cinched between the plate segments above and the hip guard below. His cheek almost touches her helmet; his chin is tipped down toward her, and the one eye not buried under the long black bangs that sweep across his face is fixed on the edge of her jaw — a cool, appraising half-lidded look, the corner of his mouth curled. She stares straight forward past the frame, nothing readable in her face, lower lip parted a few millimetres, a wet highlight sliding along the gloss of her lips; the visor throws a flat band of reflected alley light over the top half of her face and puts her eyes in shadow, so the unreadable expression comes from occlusion, not a blank stare. His glossy black rider jacket creases and throws a hard specular streak down his raised left arm, and his glossy leather pants catch a second sheen at the knee where he braces; her armor keeps a duller, scuffed metallic sheen, scratched and rain-flecked.
The alley is medium-narrow — wet asphalt running back between two brick walls, a fire-escape ladder overhead, a row of closed shutters and a humming vending machine glowing at the far end, one dim caged bulb above a service door on the left and a single cold streetlamp spilling over the wall at the upper right. The bulb is the near source: it carves the woman's helmet crown, jawline and breastplate from the left and drops her far side into black; the streetlamp rims the young man's black hair and the top edge of his shoulder from behind and above, so his bangs throw a sharp shadow across the hidden half of his face. Beyond those two pools the alley falls into wet dark, and the puddles on the asphalt repeat both sources as stretched, broken vertical streaks — reflections darker and softer than the lights themselves. Palette: cold blue-grey shadow, sodium amber near light, black leather, gunmetal armor, the red glint of the vending machine as the only warm accent. Rain has stopped; the ground still black and mirror-wet. Tense, vice-like.
Ryo Shiratake
copyright: robocop
2girls, 1boy, robocop, cyborg woman, robocop armor, robocop helmet, visor, well-defined jawline, glossy lips, unbelievably slim waist, huge breasts, mouth slightly open, expressionless, restrained, bound arms, captured, enemy, tall bishounen, androgynous, handsome, very young man, long black hair, hair over one eye, seductive, glossy black rider jacket, glossy black leather pants, alley, back street, from side, dutch angle, cowboy shot, night, rim light, wet asphalt
The camera sits low and off-axis in a narrow back alley, tilted a few degrees so the brick walls converge: the robocop woman fills the left two-thirds, held from behind and slightly to her right by the young man, who is taller and stands close so his chest is at her shoulder blade. He has hooked his left forearm across her upper arms and pinioned them behind her back at the small of her waist — her gauntleted hands are locked palm-to-palm against her own spine, wrists pressed together under his grip, and his right hand closes on her opposite shoulder, fingertips denting the armor's shoulder plate. Her weight has shifted onto her back foot, one hip cocked, her breastplate pushed forward by the arm bar so the huge curve of her chest strains the armor's chest plate, the impossibly narrow waist cinched between the plate segments above and the hip guard below. His cheek almost touches her helmet; his chin is tipped down toward her, and the one eye not buried under the long black bangs that sweep across his face is fixed on the edge of her jaw — a cool, appraising half-lidded look, the corner of his mouth curled. She stares straight forward past the frame, nothing readable in her face, lower lip parted a few millimetres, a wet highlight sliding along the gloss of her lips; the visor throws a flat band of reflected alley light over the top half of her face and puts her eyes in shadow, so the unreadable expression comes from occlusion, not a blank stare. His glossy black rider jacket creases and throws a hard specular streak down his raised left arm, and his glossy leather pants catch a second sheen at the knee where he braces; her armor keeps a duller, scuffed metallic sheen, scratched and rain-flecked.
The alley is medium-narrow — wet asphalt running back between two brick walls, a fire-escape ladder overhead, a row of closed shutters and a humming vending machine glowing at the far end, one dim caged bulb above a service door on the left and a single cold streetlamp spilling over the wall at the upper right. The bulb is the near source: it carves the woman's helmet crown, jawline and breastplate from the left and drops her far side into black; the streetlamp rims the young man's black hair and the top edge of his shoulder from behind and above, so his bangs throw a sharp shadow across the hidden half of his face. Beyond those two pools the alley falls into wet dark, and the puddles on the asphalt repeat both sources as stretched, broken vertical streaks — reflections darker and softer than the lights themselves. Palette: cold blue-grey shadow, sodium amber near light, black leather, gunmetal armor, the red glint of the vending machine as the only warm accent. Rain has stopped; the ground still black and mirror-wet. Tense, vice-like.
Ryo Shiratake
copyright: robocop
2girls, 1boy, robocop, cyborg woman, robocop armor, robocop helmet, visor, well-defined jawline, glossy lips, unbelievably slim waist, huge breasts, mouth slightly open, expressionless, restrained, bound arms, captured, enemy, tall bishounen, androgynous, handsome, very young man, long black hair, hair over one eye, seductive, glossy black rider jacket, glossy black leather pants, alley, back street, from side, dutch angle, cowboy shot, night, rim light, wet asphalt
The camera sits low and off-axis in a narrow back alley, tilted a few degrees so the brick walls converge: the robocop woman fills the left two-thirds, held from behind and slightly to her right by the young man, who is taller and stands close so his chest is at her shoulder blade. He has hooked his left forearm across her upper arms and pinioned them behind her back at the small of her waist — her gauntleted hands are locked palm-to-palm against her own spine, wrists pressed together under his grip, and his right hand closes on her opposite shoulder, fingertips denting the armor's shoulder plate. Her weight has shifted onto her back foot, one hip cocked, her breastplate pushed forward by the arm bar so the huge curve of her chest strains the armor's chest plate, the impossibly narrow waist cinched between the plate segments above and the hip guard below. His cheek almost touches her helmet; his chin is tipped down toward her, and the one eye not buried under the long black bangs that sweep across his face is fixed on the edge of her jaw — a cool, appraising half-lidded look, the corner of his mouth curled. She stares straight forward past the frame, nothing readable in her face, lower lip parted a few millimetres, a wet highlight sliding along the gloss of her lips; the visor throws a flat band of reflected alley light over the top half of her face and puts her eyes in shadow, so the unreadable expression comes from occlusion, not a blank stare. His glossy black rider jacket creases and throws a hard specular streak down his raised left arm, and his glossy leather pants catch a second sheen at the knee where he braces; her armor keeps a duller, scuffed metallic sheen, scratched and rain-flecked.
The alley is medium-narrow — wet asphalt running back between two brick walls, a fire-escape ladder overhead, a row of closed shutters and a humming vending machine glowing at the far end, one dim caged bulb above a service door on the left and a single cold streetlamp spilling over the wall at the upper right. The bulb is the near source: it carves the woman's helmet crown, jawline and breastplate from the left and drops her far side into black; the streetlamp rims the young man's black hair and the top edge of his shoulder from behind and above, so his bangs throw a sharp shadow across the hidden half of his face. Beyond those two pools the alley falls into wet dark, and the puddles on the asphalt repeat both sources as stretched, broken vertical streaks — reflections darker and softer than the lights themselves. Palette: cold blue-grey shadow, sodium amber near light, black leather, gunmetal armor, the red glint of the vending machine as the only warm accent. Rain has stopped; the ground still black and mirror-wet. Tense, vice-like.
Ryo Shiratake
copyright: robocop
2girls, 1boy, 2 characters, alleyway, robocop armor, helmet, visor, glossy lips, defined jawline, extremely thin waist, huge breasts, mouth slightly open, long black hair, long bangs covering one eye, glossy rider jacket, glossy leather pants, androgynous, beautiful boy, tall, restrained, restrained by another, from side, profile, close-up, dutch angle, looking at another, parted lips, standing, arm behind back, wall, brick wall, night, wet ground, neon light, dramatic shadow,
A low dutch-angle close-up seen from the side, in a narrow night alleyway. On the right side of the frame, seen in near-profile and pushed back against a wet brick wall, stands the woman in matte silver Robocop armor: a full helmet hugs her skull, the visor shields her eyes as a dark horizontal band, and the armor's rigid plates cinch into a waist so narrow the silhouette pinches sharply before flaring into enormous, armor-clad breasts that dominate the upper half of the frame. Her jawline is clean and hard-edged below the helmet rim; her lips are glossy and parted slightly, catching a thin wet highlight. Her head is turned toward her captor, chin lifted, and one gauntleted arm is wrenched behind her back by his grip. Leaning in from the left, close enough that his glossy rider jacket almost brushes her chestplate, is the tall, androgynous 18-year-old boy, seen from the side: long black hair falls past his shoulders, and long bangs hang over one eye, leaving only the other visible and fixed on her face with a cool, youthful, sensual half-lidded stare. His glossy leather pants catch the neon; one hand pins her wrist at the small of her back, the other presses flat to the wall beside her helmet, boxing her in. Overhead a single sodium lamp and a buzzing pink neon sign are the only light sources: they strike the wet asphalt, outlining both figures in rim light with their shadows thrown long and doubled down the alley. Palette of cold silver-gray, wet black, and hot pink neon, with the walls' grime kept dark and low in the detail budget. The two gaze at each other in tense silence; her open lips and his steady stare read as a charged standoff.
Ryo Shiratake
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