ab
Nov 9, 2026 4:14 PM
【重要】不正ログインへのご注意とパスワード変更のお願い — 最近、日本国内において、他のサービスから流出したIDとパスワードを悪用し、さまざまなWebサービスに不正ログインを試みる「パスワードリスト攻撃」が多数報告されています。PixAIでも、同様の手口とみられる不正ログインが一部で確認されています…
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ab
Nov 9, 2026 11:21 AM
ab
Nov 9, 2026 10:52 AM
ab
1girl, solo, full body, from below, walking toward viewer, unsteady gait, staggering, mid-step, barefoot, sheer veil, translucent fabric, bare skin, nude, black hair, long hair, blunt bangs, blunt-cut long hair, straight hair, hair past waist, unfocused eyes, blank stare, empty eyes, half-closed eyes, expressionless, blank facial expression, arms loosely at sides, head tilt, dark background, faded black, monochrome, low contrast, soft diffused light, glowing skin, looking at viewer but not seeing
The view is from below, low to the ground, so the girl's bare feet and the hems of the veil are the nearest things in the frame and her body rises away from the lens into a soft, featureless dark. One girl alone in a world of faded, used-up black: the ground is a matte near-black that swallows her shadow, the air above is the same black only thinner, so there is no horizon, no wall, no door — nothing but her and the palest grey bloom of light around her shoulders. She walks toward the viewer and cannot quite do it: her weight is on her right foot, her left foot is lifted and turned slightly inward, toes trailing, about to come down badly; her hips have already shifted a half-beat ahead of her shoulders, so her spine leans a little forward and her arms hang loose and slack a hand's width from her thighs, fingers uncurled, one wrist turned so the palm faces back. Her head tilts perhaps ten degrees to her right as if her neck had forgotten to hold it, and her long black blunt-cut hair — bangs cut dead straight across her forehead, the mass falling flat and heavy past her waist — swings against her cheek a fraction later than her body does, a few strands drifting across her mouth. Over the bare skin she wears only one thing: a veil of near-transparent black gauze, draped over her head and shoulders and falling to her calves, no clasp and nothing underneath; where the cloth lies against her it darkens to smoked grey and clings to the curve of her shoulder and the point of her hip, and where it hangs free it is so thin the black world shows straight through it, its hem trailing and lifting around her ankles with her uncertain step. Her eyes are open and look toward the viewer without landing: the pupils sit slightly off-centre, the lids heavy, the focus given up, so the face is blank and calm as a switched-off screen. There is no single lamp in this place; the light is a diffuse grey bloom from above and in front that rims the top of her hair, the bridge of her nose and the leading edge of the veil, and leaves the undersides of her jaw, her collarbones and the folds behind her knees darker than the air around them; she casts no hard shadow, only a deepening of the ground beneath her. The palette admits nothing but black, smoke grey, and the faint warm-ash tone of bare skin, all of it low in contrast as if the whole image had been left in the sun and faded. Every edge is soft except the mathematically straight line of her bangs. Quiet dread.
Nov 9, 2026 10:44 AM
ab
Nov 9, 2026 10:43 AM