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Arte IA di inori su PixAI. Creato con Tsubaki.3.

Pubblicato il Nov 12, 2026

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character: priestess_(arknights), copyright: arknights 1girl, solo, priestess \(arknights\), long brown hair, black hairband, hair bow, purple-grey eyes, white coat, black turtleneck shirt, black skirt, black pantyhose, sitting, under umbrella, holding umbrella with both hands, holding umbrella handle, head turn, looking back, looking at viewer, from behind, three-quarter back view, melancholic, sad eyes, light smile, closed mouth, subtle sadness, bittersweet, rain, rainy day, wet ground, fog, desaturated, blue palette, cyan palette, deep blue-grey shadows, dim lighting, scanlines, chromatic aberration, RGB separation, pixel displacement, VHS tracking distortion, digital noise, corrupted frames, glitch, data corruption, pixelated rain, image tearing, purple glow, cyan glow, cinematic, atmospheric, lonely, nostalgic, dark ambient She is seen from a three-quarter back angle: the figure sits low on wet flagstones beneath one open dark-blue umbrella, her spine turned away from the lens while her head twists back over her right shoulder so her face enters the frame in near-profile — chin dropped, purple-grey eyes lifting to meet the viewer's with a quiet, far-off weight, a single low glint in the iris, the smile at one corner of her mouth so thin it could be the shape of her face rather than an expression. Both hands close around the umbrella's slim shaft at chest height, right above left, thumbs hooked over the grip, the black fabric rib curving away from her knuckles. Her long brown hair hangs loose past her shoulders, blunt bangs parted by the black hairband, a few strands stuck flat to her cheek by the damp; the white coat pools and creases where her hips meet the stone, its collar standing open over the black turtleneck, the black skirt and black pantyhose dark against the flagstones, one heel tucked under her opposite knee. The umbrella is the only shelter: cold ambient light falls from a flat overcast sky so everything under the canopy is one shade darker than the rain outside it. Water beads and runs down the umbrella's ribs, gathers at the tips and drips in single threads; the flagstone beneath her is puddled and the puddles hold her reflection — dimmer, softer, broken at its edges — and no reflection at all where the ground has already dismantled into fragments. Rain falls as short pixelated dashes, longer and more coherent near the viewer, dissolving into blocks and single pixels toward the background. Behind her the alley swallows itself in fog: the far facades exist only as suggestion, then as misaligned horizontal blocks, then as nothing, the middle of the street eaten out and replaced by flat corrupted data — a scatter of detached squares in muted cyan and pale violet drifting where the buildings should be. Horizontal scanlines lie evenly across the whole frame, brightening over the fog and dimming over the white coat; a faint cyan fringe separates along the left contour of her shoulder and the umbrella rim while a violet fringe rides the right, and thin vertical tears open along both extreme edges of the image like a tape eaten by the head. Her coat, her hair and the umbrella stay the most intact, most legible things in the frame — the corruption grows toward the borders, so the picture reads as a memory losing its surroundings first. Palette confined to desaturated cold blue, muted cyan, and deep blue-grey shadow, with the only warmth the faint brown of her hair, and the only saturated notes brief violet and cyan signal glitches. Fine clean linework, smooth glossy skin, softly lit expressive eyes. Quiet despair, beautiful melancholy.

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