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Su PixAI i prompt sono pubblici per impostazione predefinita, ma i creator possono nasconderli in qualsiasi opera pubblicano. Chi ha creato quest'opera ha scelto di farlo, quindi le parole usate per generare l'immagine restano private e può vederle solo lui. Nascondere il prompt non cambia nient'altro: l'opera resta pubblica e puoi metterle mi piace, commentarla e condividerla come sempre.
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character: emiya_kiritsugu. A medium shot from a slightly high angle depicts emiya_kiritsugu sitting hunched over in a dimly lit, cramped surveillance position. He is a rugged man with black hair, visible stubble on his weathered chin, and troubled dark eyes. He wears a dark, practical coat over a collared shirt and necktie, his posture tense and weary. His hand grips cheap plastic chopsticks, lifting a clump of swollen, overcooked noodles that droop heavily back into a steaming paper cup, having absorbed too much broth. His expression is one of bitter disappointment and pained resignation as he stares down at the meal. The setting is a dusty room with surveillance notes scattered across a table and an old, worn radio beside him. A single, cold beam of light from a distant streetlamp filters through a grime-streaked window, casting deep shadows and highlighting the dust particles in the air. The color palette is muted with heavy contrast, emphasizing a somber, melancholic atmosphere of isolation and mundane sorrow.
どうするどうする？
！
bg272なpあま@あ5727
ど
character: emiya_kiritsugu. A medium shot from a slightly high angle depicts emiya_kiritsugu sitting hunched over in a dimly lit, cramped surveillance position. He is a rugged man with black hair, visible stubble on his weathered chin, and troubled dark eyes. He wears a dark, practical coat over a collared shirt and necktie, his posture tense and weary. His hand grips cheap plastic chopsticks, lifting a clump of swollen, overcooked noodles that droop heavily back into a steaming paper cup, having absorbed too much broth. His expression is one of bitter disappointment and pained resignation as he stares down at the meal. The setting is a dusty room with surveillance notes scattered across a table and an old, worn radio beside him. A single, cold beam of light from a distant streetlamp filters through a grime-streaked window, casting deep shadows and highlighting the dust particles in the air. The color palette is muted with heavy contrast, emphasizing a somber, melancholic atmosphere of isolation and mundane sorrow.
どうするどうする？
