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Nana 123

AI art by Nana 123 on PixAI. Made with Tsubaki.3.

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Nana 123

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artist: redjuice 1girl, 1boy, duo, back to back, dynamic action pose, reaching toward viewer, holding futuristic rail-lance, long flowing platinum silver hair, floating hair, iridescent hair highlights, glowing crimson red eyes, long eyelashes, glossy lips, sculpted face, ethereal beauty, beautiful face, handsome face, matching outfits, pearl white and glossy black sci-fi plugsuit, asymmetrical white armored trench coat, glowing red circuit lines, mechanical joints, holographic halo crown, cybernetic earpieces, translucent red visor, floating mecha blade drones, swirling glowing data ribbons, shattered glass shards, rain-slicked cyberpunk city, orbital tower, dramatic rim lighting, lens flare, high contrast, glossy rendering, chromatic aberration, from below, foreshortening, dutch angle, floating crystalline particles, luminous bloom Camera looks steeply up from below the plaza in a low two-shot, tilted a few degrees off level: the two figures stand pressed spine to spine at the center of the frame, and their bodies are seen against the wet, black mirror of the street. The girl occupies the left half, her back flat against the boy's back, shoulder blades overlapping, and her body turns three-quarters away from him while her right arm drives forward past her own shoulder toward the lens, fingers splayed wide, the reaching hand enormous in foreshortening and half masked by a smeared bokeh of falling rain. The boy occupies the right half, mirrored, his left shoulder braced low against her spine, his hips shifted below hers so the two silhouettes make one crooked axis, and both hands clamp the long futuristic rail-lance diagonally across his chest โ€” the barrel rising past her ear, the stock jammed into his ribs, one gauntleted finger curled over the trigger housing. Their heads are tipped back toward each other, the crowns almost touching; her chin tilts up and left of frame, lashes low, glossy lips parted on a held breath, while his jaw stays cut hard and level, mouth flat and set, cheekbone catching the one hard light. Both pairs of glowing crimson eyes stay fixed upward and outward past the camera, wide and lit from within, wet highlights running in them. Each wears the same suit: pearl white and glossy black plugsuit hugging waist and thigh, seams of glowing red circuit lines tracing hip, rib and wrist, and over it the asymmetrical white armored trench coat โ€” the long panel sweeping off the girl's right hip in the rain-blast, the short armored shoulder plated over the boy's left, both collars standing. The mechanical joints show as exposed segmented tendon at the elbows and the backs of the knees, and the coat hems snap and bell away from their bodies in the same gust that lifts every strand of their long platinum silver hair; the hair floats out and up in both directions, and the rain-soft rim light refracted through it splits the platinum into iridescent violet, sea-green and gold filaments. A holographic halo crown rotates above each head, thin and translucent, its edge dissolving into scanline sparks, and a cybernetic earpiece hooks the visible ear of each, its tiny light pulsing in time. Her translucent red visor rides pushed up at her brow, tilting light down her nose; the boy's hangs half-lowered over his brow, so only his eyes burn through it. Three floating mecha blade drones hover at staggered depths behind and beside them โ€” one just off her reaching wrist in the near foreground, two further over his shoulder โ€” each a slim black blade with a burning red core, their shadowless undersides catching the city's glow on the top edge only. Swirling glowing data ribbons spiral up between the two bodies and outward past their shoulders in long loose helices, torn into ragged threads where the wind takes them, and shattered glass shards hang arrested around their boots, each fragment showing a mirrored sliver of the tower. Behind them the orbital tower rises out of frame in a single vertical stab, its lit rings stacked up the shaft and its lattice lost in bloom and haze above; the rain-slicked cyberpunk city fills the base in receding layers of signage and elevated walkways, all lettering blurred past legibility, every surface doubled by reflection in the flooded pavement. One hard cold key light burns from high behind the tower, rimming the girl's reaching arm, the boy's lance barrel and the torn edges of both coats in a white-hot line, while a red underglow comes off the street and the circuitry and lights their jawlines and inner forearms from beneath; the shadows fall forward toward the camera, deep and black. Lens flare blooms across the upper right, high contrast crushes the blacks, and chromatic aberration splits the frame edges โ€” red and cyan fringes running along the contours of both faces and the blade drones. Glossy rendering, every wet surface holding a hard specular line, playfully dangerous.
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Original Prompt
Artist: redjuice, masterpiece, best quality, absurdres, artist:redjuice, 1girl and 1boy, duo, back to back, extremely beautiful girl, extremely handsome boy, ethereal beauty, sculpted face, glossy lips, long eyelashes, glowing crimson red eyes, long flowing platinum silver hair, floating hair, iridescent hair highlights, matching outfits, pearl white and glossy black sci-fi plugsuit, asymmetrical white armored trench coat, glowing red circuit lines, mechanical joints, holographic halo crown, cybernetic earpieces, translucent red visor, floating mecha blade drones, holding futuristic rail-lance, dynamic action pose, reaching toward viewer, swirling glowing data ribbons, shattered glass shards, rain-slicked cyberpunk city, orbital tower, dramatic rim lighting, lens flare, high contrast, glossy rendering, chromatic aberration
Mode
pro
Quality Tag
๏นPrompts๏นž
Size
1104 x 1824
Negative
lowres, worst quality, low quality, bad anatomy, explicit, (nsfw:1.2),(nude:1.6),(nipple:1.2),naked
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AI artwork
n1
artist: redjuice 1girl, 1boy, duo, back to back, dynamic action pose, reaching toward viewer, holding futuristic rail-lance, long flowing platinum silver hair, floating hair, iridescent hair highlights, glowing crimson red eyes, long eyelashes, glossy lips, sculpted face, ethereal beauty, beautiful face, handsome face, matching outfits, pearl white and glossy black sci-fi plugsuit, asymmetrical white armored trench coat, glowing red circuit lines, mechanical joints, holographic halo crown, cybernetic earpieces, translucent red visor, floating mecha blade drones, swirling glowing data ribbons, shattered glass shards, rain-slicked cyberpunk city, orbital tower, dramatic rim lighting, lens flare, high contrast, glossy rendering, chromatic aberration, from below, foreshortening, dutch angle, floating crystalline particles, luminous bloom Camera looks steeply up from below the plaza in a low two-shot, tilted a few degrees off level: the two figures stand pressed spine to spine at the center of the frame, and their bodies are seen against the wet, black mirror of the street. The girl occupies the left half, her back flat against the boy's back, shoulder blades overlapping, and her body turns three-quarters away from him while her right arm drives forward past her own shoulder toward the lens, fingers splayed wide, the reaching hand enormous in foreshortening and half masked by a smeared bokeh of falling rain. The boy occupies the right half, mirrored, his left shoulder braced low against her spine, his hips shifted below hers so the two silhouettes make one crooked axis, and both hands clamp the long futuristic rail-lance diagonally across his chest โ€” the barrel rising past her ear, the stock jammed into his ribs, one gauntleted finger curled over the trigger housing. Their heads are tipped back toward each other, the crowns almost touching; her chin tilts up and left of frame, lashes low, glossy lips parted on a held breath, while his jaw stays cut hard and level, mouth flat and set, cheekbone catching the one hard light. Both pairs of glowing crimson eyes stay fixed upward and outward past the camera, wide and lit from within, wet highlights running in them. Each wears the same suit: pearl white and glossy black plugsuit hugging waist and thigh, seams of glowing red circuit lines tracing hip, rib and wrist, and over it the asymmetrical white armored trench coat โ€” the long panel sweeping off the girl's right hip in the rain-blast, the short armored shoulder plated over the boy's left, both collars standing. The mechanical joints show as exposed segmented tendon at the elbows and the backs of the knees, and the coat hems snap and bell away from their bodies in the same gust that lifts every strand of their long platinum silver hair; the hair floats out and up in both directions, and the rain-soft rim light refracted through it splits the platinum into iridescent violet, sea-green and gold filaments. A holographic halo crown rotates above each head, thin and translucent, its edge dissolving into scanline sparks, and a cybernetic earpiece hooks the visible ear of each, its tiny light pulsing in time. Her translucent red visor rides pushed up at her brow, tilting light down her nose; the boy's hangs half-lowered over his brow, so only his eyes burn through it. Three floating mecha blade drones hover at staggered depths behind and beside them โ€” one just off her reaching wrist in the near foreground, two further over his shoulder โ€” each a slim black blade with a burning red core, their shadowless undersides catching the city's glow on the top edge only. Swirling glowing data ribbons spiral up between the two bodies and outward past their shoulders in long loose helices, torn into ragged threads where the wind takes them, and shattered glass shards hang arrested around their boots, each fragment showing a mirrored sliver of the tower. Behind them the orbital tower rises out of frame in a single vertical stab, its lit rings stacked up the shaft and its lattice lost in bloom and haze above; the rain-slicked cyberpunk city fills the base in receding layers of signage and elevated walkways, all lettering blurred past legibility, every surface doubled by reflection in the flooded pavement. One hard cold key light burns from high behind the tower, rimming the girl's reaching arm, the boy's lance barrel and the torn edges of both coats in a white-hot line, while a red underglow comes off the street and the circuitry and lights their jawlines and inner forearms from beneath; the shadows fall forward toward the camera, deep and black. Lens flare blooms across the upper right, high contrast crushes the blacks, and chromatic aberration splits the frame edges โ€” red and cyan fringes running along the contours of both faces and the blade drones. Glossy rendering, every wet surface holding a hard specular line, playfully dangerous.
Nana 123
AI artwork
n1
artist: redjuice 1girl, solo, glowing crimson red eyes, long flowing platinum silver hair, floating hair, iridescent hair highlights, glossy black and white sci-fi plugsuit, mechanical joints, high-collar cropped tactical techwear jacket, floating holographic halo, cybernetic earpieces, levitating mecha blade drones, holding futuristic rail-katana, dynamic floating pose, contrapposto, looking at viewer, cold confident expression, shattered glass, floating geometric shards, dark cyberpunk city background, dramatic rim lighting, high contrast, glossy rendering, chromatic aberration, floating crystalline particles, from below, dutch angle, cowboy shot, absurdres, masterpiece, best quality, extremely beautiful, sharp facial features, arms at sides, head tilt, parted lips, depth of field, bloom The camera looks up from below the level of her feet, canted a few degrees off level, framing her from mid-thigh to the halo in a cowboy shot, and the whole body hangs suspended a hand's width above the rooftop ledge, nothing beneath her boots but open air and the drop of the city. She is the only figure in the frame. Her spine arches back a little along the tilt of the dutch angle, one shoulder dipped and the other lifted: the right leg is drawn up and folded inward at the knee, toe pointed down, while the left leg trails lower and straighter, hip pushed out against the twist -- an airborne contrapposto held on nothing, weight distributed with no ground to take it. Long platinum silver hair streams outward and upward past her shoulders, each lock lifted away from the skull as if the air around her were charged, and thin iridescent highlights run along the curves of the strands in oil-slick green-magenta-violet, shifting with the bend of each lock. Her chin is tucked slightly downward, tilting her face toward the lens from under her brow; her crimson eyes are open and steady, glow bleeding faintly into the shadowed sockets, and the cold confidence sits in the flat line of her mouth, one corner very slightly down, no tension in the jaw. Sharp facial features: a narrow straight nose, cut cheekbones, a crisp jawline and a pointed chin, all edges kept hard by the rim light. Her right hand is closed around the grip of the rail-katana, the blade held low and angled across her body out toward the lower-left of frame so its muzzle-like spine catches the light; her left arm hangs loose and slightly back, fingers half-curled and open, palm turned toward the city. The plugsuit sheathes her in glossy black with white panel lines running down the ribs and thighs, the surface throwing long specular streaks that follow the curve of every limb; at the shoulders, elbows, hips and knees the suit gives way to exposed mechanical joints -- segmented metal collars, piston housings, ringed bearings that catch a pinpoint of light at each pivot. Over it she wears the cropped tactical techwear jacket, hem cut high at the waist, its tall high collar standing up around her jaw and framing her throat, sleeves pushed to the elbow. A holographic halo floats a finger's width above her crown, a thin translucent ring in pale cyan-white, its glow rimming the top of her hair and dimming the air directly beneath it; cybernetic earpieces clamp over both ears, angular black housings with thin luminous seams that spill cold blue onto the line of her jaw. Three levitating mecha blade drones hang in the air behind and around her, each a narrow dark chassis with a single edge of glowing steel, held at staggered distances and angles -- one high behind her rising shoulder, one low beside her trailing knee, one further back and half-eaten by the haze -- all of them turned so their sharpened edges present toward the frame, rotating in place with no visible support. Between her and the lens, a sheet of shattered glass has broken apart and frozen mid-flight: fine cracks spider out across the remaining fragments, and dozens of floating geometric shards -- thin triangular slivers and flat polygonal plates -- hang at different depths, each catching the rim light on one edge and refracting it on the next. The nearest shards sit in front of her knee and shoulder, small and crisp; the farthest dwindle behind her hair. Behind her, the dark cyberpunk city falls away in stacked layers: black tower silhouettes with grids of cold blue and hot magenta windows, elevated walkways and cable spans crossing the gaps, signage blurred to illegible smears of neon, all softened by haze so that each further rank of buildings loses contrast and detail. The light is strongly directional: a hard rim from the upper right rear edge traces her hair, shoulder, collar and hip in a bright cold line, while a second dimmer magenta bounce from below picks out the undersides of her jaw, her forearms and the raised knee. Everything facing the camera falls into deep shadow, so the picture runs on the highest contrast -- near-black masses against hot luminous edges -- and the glossy rendering turns each highlight into a stretched, liquid streak. Chromatic aberration splits the frame: red and cyan fringes ride the edges of her contour, the katana's spine and the glass shards, intensifying toward the corners of the image. Soft bloom halos the halo ring, the eye light and the drone edges. Cold, immaculate, dangerous.
Nana 123
AI artwork
n1
artist: redjuice 1girl, solo, glowing crimson red eyes, long flowing platinum silver hair, floating hair, iridescent hair highlights, glossy black and white sci-fi plugsuit, mechanical joints, high-collar cropped tactical techwear jacket, floating holographic halo, cybernetic earpieces, levitating mecha blade drones, holding futuristic rail-katana, dynamic floating pose, contrapposto, looking at viewer, cold confident expression, shattered glass, floating geometric shards, dark cyberpunk city background, dramatic rim lighting, high contrast, glossy rendering, chromatic aberration, floating crystalline particles, from below, dutch angle, cowboy shot, absurdres, masterpiece, best quality, extremely beautiful, sharp facial features, arms at sides, head tilt, parted lips, depth of field, bloom The camera looks up from below the level of her feet, canted a few degrees off level, framing her from mid-thigh to the halo in a cowboy shot, and the whole body hangs suspended a hand's width above the rooftop ledge, nothing beneath her boots but open air and the drop of the city. She is the only figure in the frame. Her spine arches back a little along the tilt of the dutch angle, one shoulder dipped and the other lifted: the right leg is drawn up and folded inward at the knee, toe pointed down, while the left leg trails lower and straighter, hip pushed out against the twist -- an airborne contrapposto held on nothing, weight distributed with no ground to take it. Long platinum silver hair streams outward and upward past her shoulders, each lock lifted away from the skull as if the air around her were charged, and thin iridescent highlights run along the curves of the strands in oil-slick green-magenta-violet, shifting with the bend of each lock. Her chin is tucked slightly downward, tilting her face toward the lens from under her brow; her crimson eyes are open and steady, glow bleeding faintly into the shadowed sockets, and the cold confidence sits in the flat line of her mouth, one corner very slightly down, no tension in the jaw. Sharp facial features: a narrow straight nose, cut cheekbones, a crisp jawline and a pointed chin, all edges kept hard by the rim light. Her right hand is closed around the grip of the rail-katana, the blade held low and angled across her body out toward the lower-left of frame so its muzzle-like spine catches the light; her left arm hangs loose and slightly back, fingers half-curled and open, palm turned toward the city. The plugsuit sheathes her in glossy black with white panel lines running down the ribs and thighs, the surface throwing long specular streaks that follow the curve of every limb; at the shoulders, elbows, hips and knees the suit gives way to exposed mechanical joints -- segmented metal collars, piston housings, ringed bearings that catch a pinpoint of light at each pivot. Over it she wears the cropped tactical techwear jacket, hem cut high at the waist, its tall high collar standing up around her jaw and framing her throat, sleeves pushed to the elbow. A holographic halo floats a finger's width above her crown, a thin translucent ring in pale cyan-white, its glow rimming the top of her hair and dimming the air directly beneath it; cybernetic earpieces clamp over both ears, angular black housings with thin luminous seams that spill cold blue onto the line of her jaw. Three levitating mecha blade drones hang in the air behind and around her, each a narrow dark chassis with a single edge of glowing steel, held at staggered distances and angles -- one high behind her rising shoulder, one low beside her trailing knee, one further back and half-eaten by the haze -- all of them turned so their sharpened edges present toward the frame, rotating in place with no visible support. Between her and the lens, a sheet of shattered glass has broken apart and frozen mid-flight: fine cracks spider out across the remaining fragments, and dozens of floating geometric shards -- thin triangular slivers and flat polygonal plates -- hang at different depths, each catching the rim light on one edge and refracting it on the next. The nearest shards sit in front of her knee and shoulder, small and crisp; the farthest dwindle behind her hair. Behind her, the dark cyberpunk city falls away in stacked layers: black tower silhouettes with grids of cold blue and hot magenta windows, elevated walkways and cable spans crossing the gaps, signage blurred to illegible smears of neon, all softened by haze so that each further rank of buildings loses contrast and detail. The light is strongly directional: a hard rim from the upper right rear edge traces her hair, shoulder, collar and hip in a bright cold line, while a second dimmer magenta bounce from below picks out the undersides of her jaw, her forearms and the raised knee. Everything facing the camera falls into deep shadow, so the picture runs on the highest contrast -- near-black masses against hot luminous edges -- and the glossy rendering turns each highlight into a stretched, liquid streak. Chromatic aberration splits the frame: red and cyan fringes ride the edges of her contour, the katana's spine and the glass shards, intensifying toward the corners of the image. Soft bloom halos the halo ring, the eye light and the drone edges. Cold, immaculate, dangerous.
Nana 123
AI artwork
n1
artist: redjuice 1girl, solo, glowing crimson red eyes, long flowing platinum silver hair, floating hair, iridescent hair highlights, glossy black and white sci-fi plugsuit, mechanical joints, high-collar cropped tactical techwear jacket, floating holographic halo, cybernetic earpieces, levitating mecha blade drones, holding futuristic rail-katana, dynamic floating pose, contrapposto, looking at viewer, cold confident expression, shattered glass, floating geometric shards, dark cyberpunk city background, dramatic rim lighting, high contrast, glossy rendering, chromatic aberration, floating crystalline particles, from below, dutch angle, cowboy shot, absurdres, masterpiece, best quality, extremely beautiful, sharp facial features, arms at sides, head tilt, parted lips, depth of field, bloom The camera looks up from below the level of her feet, canted a few degrees off level, framing her from mid-thigh to the halo in a cowboy shot, and the whole body hangs suspended a hand's width above the rooftop ledge, nothing beneath her boots but open air and the drop of the city. She is the only figure in the frame. Her spine arches back a little along the tilt of the dutch angle, one shoulder dipped and the other lifted: the right leg is drawn up and folded inward at the knee, toe pointed down, while the left leg trails lower and straighter, hip pushed out against the twist -- an airborne contrapposto held on nothing, weight distributed with no ground to take it. Long platinum silver hair streams outward and upward past her shoulders, each lock lifted away from the skull as if the air around her were charged, and thin iridescent highlights run along the curves of the strands in oil-slick green-magenta-violet, shifting with the bend of each lock. Her chin is tucked slightly downward, tilting her face toward the lens from under her brow; her crimson eyes are open and steady, glow bleeding faintly into the shadowed sockets, and the cold confidence sits in the flat line of her mouth, one corner very slightly down, no tension in the jaw. Sharp facial features: a narrow straight nose, cut cheekbones, a crisp jawline and a pointed chin, all edges kept hard by the rim light. Her right hand is closed around the grip of the rail-katana, the blade held low and angled across her body out toward the lower-left of frame so its muzzle-like spine catches the light; her left arm hangs loose and slightly back, fingers half-curled and open, palm turned toward the city. The plugsuit sheathes her in glossy black with white panel lines running down the ribs and thighs, the surface throwing long specular streaks that follow the curve of every limb; at the shoulders, elbows, hips and knees the suit gives way to exposed mechanical joints -- segmented metal collars, piston housings, ringed bearings that catch a pinpoint of light at each pivot. Over it she wears the cropped tactical techwear jacket, hem cut high at the waist, its tall high collar standing up around her jaw and framing her throat, sleeves pushed to the elbow. A holographic halo floats a finger's width above her crown, a thin translucent ring in pale cyan-white, its glow rimming the top of her hair and dimming the air directly beneath it; cybernetic earpieces clamp over both ears, angular black housings with thin luminous seams that spill cold blue onto the line of her jaw. Three levitating mecha blade drones hang in the air behind and around her, each a narrow dark chassis with a single edge of glowing steel, held at staggered distances and angles -- one high behind her rising shoulder, one low beside her trailing knee, one further back and half-eaten by the haze -- all of them turned so their sharpened edges present toward the frame, rotating in place with no visible support. Between her and the lens, a sheet of shattered glass has broken apart and frozen mid-flight: fine cracks spider out across the remaining fragments, and dozens of floating geometric shards -- thin triangular slivers and flat polygonal plates -- hang at different depths, each catching the rim light on one edge and refracting it on the next. The nearest shards sit in front of her knee and shoulder, small and crisp; the farthest dwindle behind her hair. Behind her, the dark cyberpunk city falls away in stacked layers: black tower silhouettes with grids of cold blue and hot magenta windows, elevated walkways and cable spans crossing the gaps, signage blurred to illegible smears of neon, all softened by haze so that each further rank of buildings loses contrast and detail. The light is strongly directional: a hard rim from the upper right rear edge traces her hair, shoulder, collar and hip in a bright cold line, while a second dimmer magenta bounce from below picks out the undersides of her jaw, her forearms and the raised knee. Everything facing the camera falls into deep shadow, so the picture runs on the highest contrast -- near-black masses against hot luminous edges -- and the glossy rendering turns each highlight into a stretched, liquid streak. Chromatic aberration splits the frame: red and cyan fringes ride the edges of her contour, the katana's spine and the glass shards, intensifying toward the corners of the image. Soft bloom halos the halo ring, the eye light and the drone edges. Cold, immaculate, dangerous.
Nana 123

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