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AI art "ワンプロンプト：悲しみ砕く太陽の鼓動" featuring #Smile, #Sunlight and #Cloudy sky
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ワンプロンプト：悲しみ砕く太陽の鼓動

こちらはちゃんと(^_^;)tsubaki3で生成したもの。 同じプロンプトでここまで違う画像になるとは…

#Smile#Sunlight#Cloudy sky
Avatar image of 鷹木澄成
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鷹木澄成

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from below, wide shot, solo, dramatic sky, sun low behind heavy cloud, sunbeams breaking through, tall slender figure standing on a shard-strewn stone rise, arms flung out and back, head thrown up toward the light, open mouth, shouting, eyes squeezed shut behind tears, tear streaks on both cheeks, long dark hair whipped sideways, tattered knee-length cloak snapping outward, cloth folds stretched by wind, broken fragments of pale stone floating and rising around her, dust motes in the god-rays, desaturated palette of cold slate grey and bruised violet with a single hot gold core, backlit silhouette rim, voluminous cloudbank, no text The camera sits low near the ground and looks steeply up: a single young woman stands balanced on the crest of a rough stone rise at the center-right of the frame, the horizon far below her boots, so that her body is drawn long against a towering wall of storm cloud. She is a tall slender figure with long dark hair, wet at the temples, that whips out to the left of frame in the wind; her cloak is knee-length, grey-brown, worn at the hem, and it bellies away from her back and snaps in the same direction, tugging the shoulder seam taut and lifting the collar off her neck. Her arms are flung out and back and slightly down, palms open, elbows soft, weight pitched onto her back foot with the front heel just lifting — she is caught at the top of a shout, chin high, throat stretched, mouth wide open, brows knotted, both eyes squeezed shut with tears squeezing from the corners and two wet tracks running down past her jaw. Her face is turned into the light, and everything the up-angle sees of her is rim-lit: the undersides of the jaw and chin, the inner edges of her forearms, the front face of the cloak's folds. The light comes from one place — a low sun buried behind the cloudbank directly ahead of her — so the sun itself is never a clean disc but a blazing gold eye burning through a tear in the overcast; hard shafts break downward and toward the viewer, visible as pale aerial haze only where they cross the dust. The figure is otherwise a near-silhouette with a hot gold contour on every upward-facing edge, and the darkness of the storm presses in from the top corners and the bottom of the frame. Around her, broken slabs of pale stone float and rise, some as small as gravel, some as long as a forearm, all lifted a hand's width off the ground and turning slowly; fine dust hangs in the shafts, and the sharp-edged shadows of the stones below her have not caught up with them. Palette: cold slate grey, bruised violet and ash in the cloud and the stone, against a single hot gold core where the sun breaks — nothing else admitted, and no other warm colour anywhere in the frame. The steep upward camera makes the cloudbank a ceiling and the woman small under it, the shafts radiating out from her open arms as though she were pushing the sky apart. Stormswept, aching.
Show Parameters
Original Prompt
悲しみ砕く太陽の鼓動
Mode
pro
Quality Tag
最高品質を指定, ﹝Prompts﹞
Size
1104 x 1824
Sampling Method
Euler
Negative
lowres, worst quality, low quality, bad anatomy, explicit
Prompt Helper

Model & LoRA used

Tsubaki.3 - AI Model cover image

PixAI DiT.3

Tsubaki.3
7.46k

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e
1girl, solo, poem, ink wash painting, from below, looking up, arms outstretched, head tilted back, eyes wide, half-closed mouth, wind, flowing hair, long hair, dark hair, loose strands, flowing clothes, long skirt, bare feet, standing on tiptoe, reaching up, outstretched arm, scattered paper, torn paper, shards, floating particles, glowing particles, broken bars, iron bars, shattered fragments, night sky, starry sky, blazing stars, swirling clouds, nebula, from side, dutch angle, wide shot A girl stands alone beneath a sky that is tearing open, seen from below at a low dutch angle so her body tilts across the frame and the whole vault of heaven reels above her. Both arms are flung up and open, elbows soft, fingers spread wide and trembling with the effort of reaching, and she is caught on tiptoe, heels lifted clear of the ground, weight carried on the ball of one foot while the other toe drags for balance. Her head is thrown back so her throat is bared and her jaw cut sharp against the glow, eyes wide and wet and fixed straight up into the light, lips parted on a breath she has not finished taking. Her long dark hair pulls sideways and upward off her shoulders in the updraft, individual strands separating and lifting, and the loose fabric of her skirt and sleeves bellies out and streams away from her legs, snapping at the hem. Around her, iron bars hang in the air in a broken ring; several are cracked through and drifting apart from their sockets, their jagged ends catching the light, and the gaps between them open onto a vast deep blue-black sky crowded with stars burning unnaturally large and bright, their cores white-hot and their halos bleeding outward into torn veils of amber and cold violet cloud that spiral slowly around a single unseen axis. Every upward-facing surface catches the light -- the flat crowns of the shattered bar ends, the tops of her cheekbones, the bridge of her nose, the ridges of her knuckles -- while beneath her chin, inside her elbows and behind her knees the shadows stay deep, and she throws a long, hard, faintly violet shadow down and away from the blaze. Glowing motes and curled flakes of broken metal drift upward past her, not falling but rising, slow, weightless, each one lit on the side that faces the stars and dark on the other. The ground she stands on is a bare, cracked dark plain holding nothing else, so that the empty space at the bottom of the frame sets her smallness against the immensity overhead. The palette is restricted to deep indigo and ink black, hot white starfire, and a warm amber bleeding through the cloud, with the girl's skin and hair kept in muted umber so the sky owns the colour. Her figure is drawn clean and specific -- the strain in the tendons of her raised arms, the lift of her chin, the fine strands crossing her face -- while the sky and the broken bars are rendered loose and blooming. A whispered awe, dizzy and free.
Ethorin
#Barefoot#Sky#Milky Way

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