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C9I

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C9I

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1girl, solo, ancient celtic warrior queen, dark fantasy illustration, standing, barren fog-choked moor, rusted chainmail, blue woad war paint, torn black cloak, pale face, rusted iron crown, crown partially obscuring face, hollow void eyes, black tears, crying, massive raven, raven perched on shoulder, raven screaming, open beak, storm, dead heather, shattered swords, heavy bruised sky, dark storm clouds, melancholic, epic, rage, defeat, atmospheric black metal, hyperdetailed, chiaroscuro, desaturated blacks, cold blues, blood-red accents, cinematic low-angle shot, from below, film grain, wide shot, wind, billowing cloak, looking up, parted lips, clenched jaw, gauntlets, sword planted in ground, fog, volumetric light, dramatic shadow, masterpiece, 8k, tall aspect ratio Cinematic low-angle shot from below, the camera near the wet ground so the queen towers against a bruised, churning sky that fills the upper two-thirds of the frame. She stands full-length on a barren fog-choked moor, feet planted wide apart on sodden black peat, her weight on the left leg, hips canted, torso turned a quarter away and her chin lifted toward the storm. The rusted chainmail hangs heavy and pitted over her shoulders and arms, every ring eaten with ochre corrosion, a chainmail coif bunched at her throat; over it the torn black cloak bellies out sideways in the wind, its ragged hem whipping past her knee and one torn corner streaming out of frame to the left. Blue woad war paint streaks her pale face in harsh bands across brow and cheek and down her throat, the woad drying into the cracks of her skin. A rusted iron crown, spiked and eaten thin at the points, sits low and tilted, its front band cutting across her brow and casting a hard shadow over the upper half of her face; below it her eyes are hollow voids, absolute black wells with no iris or highlight, and from each a single line of black tear runs down her cheek and drips from her jaw. Her lips are parted and her jaw is clenched, brows drawn down, the whole face locked between grief and fury. Her right hand is gloved in corroded mail and closed around the hilt of a shattered sword whose broken blade is driven into the ground beside her boot; her left arm hangs with the fingers curled loosely. On her right shoulder a massive raven grips the chainmail with splayed talons, its body pitched forward, wings half-lifted and ragged, beak wide open and throat feathers bristling as it screams into the storm, its head thrown up and its one visible eye catching the cold light. Around her feet the moor is a mass of dead heather, brittle grey-brown twigs flattened by wind, and further out in the midground shattered swords stand and lie at angles in the peat, their blades snapped, hilts skewed, one broken crossguard half-swallowed by moss. Low fog banks drift between the sword stumps, hiding the ground a few metres behind her, and the sky above is a heavy bruised mass of storm cloud, purple-black at the horizon breaking into torn grey-blue sheets overhead. The single light source is a cold blue break in the clouds high and behind her right shoulder, rimming one edge of the crown, the raven's lifted wings, the chainmail's shoulder links and the ragged edge of the cloak in icy silver, while her front falls into deep chiaroscuro shadow; the light throws her long shadow forward across the heather toward the camera, and every upward-facing surface -- crown points, chainmail rings on the shoulders, the raven's back, the flats of the broken blades -- catches that cold rim while the undersides stay black. Thin fog curls visibly around the standing sword stumps where the wind eddies, and a few strands of her dark hair are torn loose across the woad-painted cheek. Palette is desaturated black, cold slate blue and storm grey, with a single subtle blood-red accent: a shallow red glint along the crown's inner band and a red stain at the cloak's torn edge. Heavy film grain over the whole frame, hyperdetailed metal, leather and feather texture, epic and melancholic, defeat and rage.
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Prompt original
Terrifying dark fantasy illustration of a tragic, ancient Celtic warrior queen standing on a barren, fog-choked moor. She is covered in rusted chainmail, blue woad war paint, and a torn black cloak. Her face is pale, partially obscured by a rusted iron crown, and her eyes are hollow voids weeping black tears. A massive raven is perched on her shoulder, screaming into the storm. Dead heather, shattered swords, and a heavy, bruised sky. Melancholic, epic, defeat and rage, atmospheric black metal vibe, hyperdetailed, chiaroscuro, desaturated blacks, cold blues, subtle blood-red accents, cinematic low-angle shot, film grain, by Frank Frazetta and Zdzisล‚aw Beksiล„ski, masterpiece, 8K --ar 2:3 --v 6
Modo
pro
Tamaรฑo
992 x 992
Mรฉtodo de muestreo
Euler
Excluir de la imagen
lowres, worst quality, low quality, bad anatomy, explicit
Asistente de prompts

Modelo y LoRA utilizados

Tsubaki.3 - AI Model cover image

PixAI DiT.3

Tsubaki.3
7.23k

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Avatar image of C9I
1girl, solo, ancient celtic warrior queen, dark fantasy illustration, standing, barren fog-choked moor, rusted chainmail, blue woad war paint, torn black cloak, pale face, rusted iron crown, crown partially obscuring face, hollow void eyes, black tears, crying, massive raven, raven perched on shoulder, raven screaming, open beak, storm, dead heather, shattered swords, heavy bruised sky, dark storm clouds, melancholic, epic, rage, defeat, atmospheric black metal, hyperdetailed, chiaroscuro, desaturated blacks, cold blues, blood-red accents, cinematic low-angle shot, from below, film grain, wide shot, wind, billowing cloak, looking up, parted lips, clenched jaw, gauntlets, sword planted in ground, fog, volumetric light, dramatic shadow, masterpiece, 8k, tall aspect ratio Cinematic low-angle shot from below, the camera near the wet ground so the queen towers against a bruised, churning sky that fills the upper two-thirds of the frame. She stands full-length on a barren fog-choked moor, feet planted wide apart on sodden black peat, her weight on the left leg, hips canted, torso turned a quarter away and her chin lifted toward the storm. The rusted chainmail hangs heavy and pitted over her shoulders and arms, every ring eaten with ochre corrosion, a chainmail coif bunched at her throat; over it the torn black cloak bellies out sideways in the wind, its ragged hem whipping past her knee and one torn corner streaming out of frame to the left. Blue woad war paint streaks her pale face in harsh bands across brow and cheek and down her throat, the woad drying into the cracks of her skin. A rusted iron crown, spiked and eaten thin at the points, sits low and tilted, its front band cutting across her brow and casting a hard shadow over the upper half of her face; below it her eyes are hollow voids, absolute black wells with no iris or highlight, and from each a single line of black tear runs down her cheek and drips from her jaw. Her lips are parted and her jaw is clenched, brows drawn down, the whole face locked between grief and fury. Her right hand is gloved in corroded mail and closed around the hilt of a shattered sword whose broken blade is driven into the ground beside her boot; her left arm hangs with the fingers curled loosely. On her right shoulder a massive raven grips the chainmail with splayed talons, its body pitched forward, wings half-lifted and ragged, beak wide open and throat feathers bristling as it screams into the storm, its head thrown up and its one visible eye catching the cold light. Around her feet the moor is a mass of dead heather, brittle grey-brown twigs flattened by wind, and further out in the midground shattered swords stand and lie at angles in the peat, their blades snapped, hilts skewed, one broken crossguard half-swallowed by moss. Low fog banks drift between the sword stumps, hiding the ground a few metres behind her, and the sky above is a heavy bruised mass of storm cloud, purple-black at the horizon breaking into torn grey-blue sheets overhead. The single light source is a cold blue break in the clouds high and behind her right shoulder, rimming one edge of the crown, the raven's lifted wings, the chainmail's shoulder links and the ragged edge of the cloak in icy silver, while her front falls into deep chiaroscuro shadow; the light throws her long shadow forward across the heather toward the camera, and every upward-facing surface -- crown points, chainmail rings on the shoulders, the raven's back, the flats of the broken blades -- catches that cold rim while the undersides stay black. Thin fog curls visibly around the standing sword stumps where the wind eddies, and a few strands of her dark hair are torn loose across the woad-painted cheek. Palette is desaturated black, cold slate blue and storm grey, with a single subtle blood-red accent: a shallow red glint along the crown's inner band and a red stain at the cloak's torn edge. Heavy film grain over the whole frame, hyperdetailed metal, leather and feather texture, epic and melancholic, defeat and rage.
C9I
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Avatar image of C9I
1girl, solo, ancient celtic warrior queen, dark fantasy illustration, standing, barren fog-choked moor, rusted chainmail, blue woad war paint, torn black cloak, pale face, rusted iron crown, crown partially obscuring face, hollow void eyes, black tears, crying, massive raven, raven perched on shoulder, raven screaming, open beak, storm, dead heather, shattered swords, heavy bruised sky, dark storm clouds, melancholic, epic, rage, defeat, atmospheric black metal, hyperdetailed, chiaroscuro, desaturated blacks, cold blues, blood-red accents, cinematic low-angle shot, from below, film grain, wide shot, wind, billowing cloak, looking up, parted lips, clenched jaw, gauntlets, sword planted in ground, fog, volumetric light, dramatic shadow, masterpiece, 8k, tall aspect ratio Cinematic low-angle shot from below, the camera near the wet ground so the queen towers against a bruised, churning sky that fills the upper two-thirds of the frame. She stands full-length on a barren fog-choked moor, feet planted wide apart on sodden black peat, her weight on the left leg, hips canted, torso turned a quarter away and her chin lifted toward the storm. The rusted chainmail hangs heavy and pitted over her shoulders and arms, every ring eaten with ochre corrosion, a chainmail coif bunched at her throat; over it the torn black cloak bellies out sideways in the wind, its ragged hem whipping past her knee and one torn corner streaming out of frame to the left. Blue woad war paint streaks her pale face in harsh bands across brow and cheek and down her throat, the woad drying into the cracks of her skin. A rusted iron crown, spiked and eaten thin at the points, sits low and tilted, its front band cutting across her brow and casting a hard shadow over the upper half of her face; below it her eyes are hollow voids, absolute black wells with no iris or highlight, and from each a single line of black tear runs down her cheek and drips from her jaw. Her lips are parted and her jaw is clenched, brows drawn down, the whole face locked between grief and fury. Her right hand is gloved in corroded mail and closed around the hilt of a shattered sword whose broken blade is driven into the ground beside her boot; her left arm hangs with the fingers curled loosely. On her right shoulder a massive raven grips the chainmail with splayed talons, its body pitched forward, wings half-lifted and ragged, beak wide open and throat feathers bristling as it screams into the storm, its head thrown up and its one visible eye catching the cold light. Around her feet the moor is a mass of dead heather, brittle grey-brown twigs flattened by wind, and further out in the midground shattered swords stand and lie at angles in the peat, their blades snapped, hilts skewed, one broken crossguard half-swallowed by moss. Low fog banks drift between the sword stumps, hiding the ground a few metres behind her, and the sky above is a heavy bruised mass of storm cloud, purple-black at the horizon breaking into torn grey-blue sheets overhead. The single light source is a cold blue break in the clouds high and behind her right shoulder, rimming one edge of the crown, the raven's lifted wings, the chainmail's shoulder links and the ragged edge of the cloak in icy silver, while her front falls into deep chiaroscuro shadow; the light throws her long shadow forward across the heather toward the camera, and every upward-facing surface -- crown points, chainmail rings on the shoulders, the raven's back, the flats of the broken blades -- catches that cold rim while the undersides stay black. Thin fog curls visibly around the standing sword stumps where the wind eddies, and a few strands of her dark hair are torn loose across the woad-painted cheek. Palette is desaturated black, cold slate blue and storm grey, with a single subtle blood-red accent: a shallow red glint along the crown's inner band and a red stain at the cloak's torn edge. Heavy film grain over the whole frame, hyperdetailed metal, leather and feather texture, epic and melancholic, defeat and rage.
C9I
#Legendarium de Tolkien
AI artwork
Avatar image of C9I
1girl, solo, ancient celtic warrior queen, dark fantasy illustration, standing, barren fog-choked moor, rusted chainmail, blue woad war paint, torn black cloak, pale face, rusted iron crown, crown partially obscuring face, hollow void eyes, black tears, crying, massive raven, raven perched on shoulder, raven screaming, open beak, storm, dead heather, shattered swords, heavy bruised sky, dark storm clouds, melancholic, epic, rage, defeat, atmospheric black metal, hyperdetailed, chiaroscuro, desaturated blacks, cold blues, blood-red accents, cinematic low-angle shot, from below, film grain, wide shot, wind, billowing cloak, looking up, parted lips, clenched jaw, gauntlets, sword planted in ground, fog, volumetric light, dramatic shadow, masterpiece, 8k, tall aspect ratio Cinematic low-angle shot from below, the camera near the wet ground so the queen towers against a bruised, churning sky that fills the upper two-thirds of the frame. She stands full-length on a barren fog-choked moor, feet planted wide apart on sodden black peat, her weight on the left leg, hips canted, torso turned a quarter away and her chin lifted toward the storm. The rusted chainmail hangs heavy and pitted over her shoulders and arms, every ring eaten with ochre corrosion, a chainmail coif bunched at her throat; over it the torn black cloak bellies out sideways in the wind, its ragged hem whipping past her knee and one torn corner streaming out of frame to the left. Blue woad war paint streaks her pale face in harsh bands across brow and cheek and down her throat, the woad drying into the cracks of her skin. A rusted iron crown, spiked and eaten thin at the points, sits low and tilted, its front band cutting across her brow and casting a hard shadow over the upper half of her face; below it her eyes are hollow voids, absolute black wells with no iris or highlight, and from each a single line of black tear runs down her cheek and drips from her jaw. Her lips are parted and her jaw is clenched, brows drawn down, the whole face locked between grief and fury. Her right hand is gloved in corroded mail and closed around the hilt of a shattered sword whose broken blade is driven into the ground beside her boot; her left arm hangs with the fingers curled loosely. On her right shoulder a massive raven grips the chainmail with splayed talons, its body pitched forward, wings half-lifted and ragged, beak wide open and throat feathers bristling as it screams into the storm, its head thrown up and its one visible eye catching the cold light. Around her feet the moor is a mass of dead heather, brittle grey-brown twigs flattened by wind, and further out in the midground shattered swords stand and lie at angles in the peat, their blades snapped, hilts skewed, one broken crossguard half-swallowed by moss. Low fog banks drift between the sword stumps, hiding the ground a few metres behind her, and the sky above is a heavy bruised mass of storm cloud, purple-black at the horizon breaking into torn grey-blue sheets overhead. The single light source is a cold blue break in the clouds high and behind her right shoulder, rimming one edge of the crown, the raven's lifted wings, the chainmail's shoulder links and the ragged edge of the cloak in icy silver, while her front falls into deep chiaroscuro shadow; the light throws her long shadow forward across the heather toward the camera, and every upward-facing surface -- crown points, chainmail rings on the shoulders, the raven's back, the flats of the broken blades -- catches that cold rim while the undersides stay black. Thin fog curls visibly around the standing sword stumps where the wind eddies, and a few strands of her dark hair are torn loose across the woad-painted cheek. Palette is desaturated black, cold slate blue and storm grey, with a single subtle blood-red accent: a shallow red glint along the crown's inner band and a red stain at the cloak's torn edge. Heavy film grain over the whole frame, hyperdetailed metal, leather and feather texture, epic and melancholic, defeat and rage.
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character: kaname_madoka_(magical_girl), copyright: mahou_shoujo_madoka_magica Kaname Madoka from Puella Magi Madoka Magica, pink twin tails tied with deep red ribbons, wearing her iconic magical girl costume, white corset-like bodice with delicate back lacing, voluminous layered white and pale pink ruffled skirt, crimson ribbons flowing loosely around her body, viewed from behind at a three-quarter angle, seated with her back gracefully arched, both arms extending naturally downward behind her back, one hand gently holding the opposite wrist, clearly separated hands, relaxed slender fingers, five distinct fingers on each hand, natural finger spacing, anatomically correct wrists, elegant delicate hands, visible knuckles, softly curved fingers, hands clearly visible against the white skirt, unobstructed hand silhouette, accurate hand anatomy, head tilted far backward, chin raised toward the darkness, face mostly hidden, elegant elongated silhouette, delicate exposed shoulders, soft loose strands of pink hair, dramatic asymmetrical composition, close medium shot, large skirt filling the lower frame, dark almost black background, dramatic directional lighting, pale ivory highlights, muted dusty pink, cold gray shadows, rich crimson accents, strong contrast between luminous fabric and deep darkness, thick impasto oil painting, expressive visible brushstrokes, heavy layered paint, rough palette knife texture, sculptural paint strokes, painterly edges, textured canvas, loose gestural painting, rich tactile surface, dramatic chiaroscuro, melancholic atmosphere, haunting beauty, full bleed composition, edge-to-edge artwork, no borders, no frame, textured illustration, grainy texture, crayon texture, chalky brushwork, impasto strokes, bold color blocking, stylized anime, flat shading, dry brush effect, atmospheric lighting, soft glow highlights, rough painterly anime style, visible textured brushstrokes, heavy impasto texture, scratchy charcoal-like linework, expressive gestural strokes, smudged edges, desaturated base tones with aggressive high-contrast color, sketch style, rough brushstroke
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