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詳細を見るIshola Ayinla
パラメーターを見る
- オリジナルプロンプト
- A mysterious girl with long dark hair and glowing violet eyes, standing under a full moon in an ancient courtyard. She wears a flowing dark robe with silver embroidery, her expression calm and slightly melancholic. Soft moonlight and floating petals surround her, creating a quiet and magical atmosphere. Highly detailed, cinematic lighting, anime style
- モード
- flash
- 縦横比
- 1104 x 1824
プロンプト自動変換
利用したモデルとLoRA
ほかの類似作品
続きを読むia
1girl, solo, long dark hair, glowing violet eyes, mysterious girl, full moon, ancient courtyard, flowing dark robe, silver embroidery, soft moonlight, floating petals, quiet magical atmosphere, cinematic lighting, calm and slightly melancholic expression, standing, from below, full body, dutch angle, night, backlighting, from behind, looking up, dark hair down to waist, no accessories, petals in hair, arms at sides, robe sleeves hanging, stone paving, collapsed stone pillars, moss, bare feet on cold stone
The camera sits low and close to the ground, tilted a few degrees off level, looking up: a lone girl stands alone in the middle of an ancient courtyard at night, her figure reaching toward the top of the frame, the full moon hung behind and slightly above her head so the moon's white disc is partly eaten by the silhouette of her dark hair. Her long dark hair hangs past her waist and lifts slightly at the ends in a cold updraft, and where the moonlight rims it, the strands catch a thin cold silver edge; her glowing violet eyes are the one warm-cool light in the frame, pouring out a soft violet bloom that tints the tops of her cheeks and the inner rims of her eye sockets, and the glow spills faintly onto the nearest strands of hair either side of her face. Her brows sit level and her lips are closed and just barely downturned at the corners, eyes lowered half-lidded and aimed at the mossed flagstones a few paces ahead of her feet rather than at the lens -- the calm of a person keeping something in. She stands still with her weight carried on her left leg, right knee slightly bent, right hip dropped; both hands lie folded one inside the other at her waist, the long bell sleeves of the robe falling away from her forearms and hanging heavy, and the robe's fabric pools and breaks over the toes of her bare feet, cold stone visibly darkening the cloth where the hem drags. The dark robe crosses at the throat and falls in a long unbroken column, its cloth a deep blue-black that swallows the ambient light, and silver embroidery runs in a narrow river of thread down the front opening, along the hem and in a band around each cuff -- the threads catch the moon as tiny hard bright points while the cloth between them stays matte. The courtyard around her is built of old grey stone: cracked flagstones with grass in the seams, a row of broken-topped pillars down the right side casting long shadows toward the viewer, and a low ruined wall at the back framing the sky; bare ground and stone swallow the midground, leaving her as the only vertical body in the composition. The moon is the sole light source: it backlights her and lays an absolute black shadow out in front of her feet toward the camera, and beyond her rim-lit outline the courtyard falls into deep cold blue-black. Floating petals -- pale, small, lit only on the sides turned to the moon -- drift down and sideways through the air at many depths, some blurred in the foreground, some sharp in her middle distance; one petal has come to rest on the slope of her right shoulder, and a few lie pale on the dark flagstones behind her. Palette is restrained to cold blue-grey stone, the blue-black of the robe, silver thread and silver moon, with violet admitted only at her eyes and the small halo of glow they throw. Quiet, enchanted, faintly sorrowful.
Ishola Ayinla
ia
1girl, solo, long dark hair, glowing violet eyes, mysterious girl, full moon, ancient courtyard, flowing dark robe, silver embroidery, soft moonlight, floating petals, quiet magical atmosphere, cinematic lighting, calm and slightly melancholic expression, standing, from below, full body, dutch angle, night, backlighting, from behind, looking up, dark hair down to waist, no accessories, petals in hair, arms at sides, robe sleeves hanging, stone paving, collapsed stone pillars, moss, bare feet on cold stone
The camera sits low and close to the ground, tilted a few degrees off level, looking up: a lone girl stands alone in the middle of an ancient courtyard at night, her figure reaching toward the top of the frame, the full moon hung behind and slightly above her head so the moon's white disc is partly eaten by the silhouette of her dark hair. Her long dark hair hangs past her waist and lifts slightly at the ends in a cold updraft, and where the moonlight rims it, the strands catch a thin cold silver edge; her glowing violet eyes are the one warm-cool light in the frame, pouring out a soft violet bloom that tints the tops of her cheeks and the inner rims of her eye sockets, and the glow spills faintly onto the nearest strands of hair either side of her face. Her brows sit level and her lips are closed and just barely downturned at the corners, eyes lowered half-lidded and aimed at the mossed flagstones a few paces ahead of her feet rather than at the lens -- the calm of a person keeping something in. She stands still with her weight carried on her left leg, right knee slightly bent, right hip dropped; both hands lie folded one inside the other at her waist, the long bell sleeves of the robe falling away from her forearms and hanging heavy, and the robe's fabric pools and breaks over the toes of her bare feet, cold stone visibly darkening the cloth where the hem drags. The dark robe crosses at the throat and falls in a long unbroken column, its cloth a deep blue-black that swallows the ambient light, and silver embroidery runs in a narrow river of thread down the front opening, along the hem and in a band around each cuff -- the threads catch the moon as tiny hard bright points while the cloth between them stays matte. The courtyard around her is built of old grey stone: cracked flagstones with grass in the seams, a row of broken-topped pillars down the right side casting long shadows toward the viewer, and a low ruined wall at the back framing the sky; bare ground and stone swallow the midground, leaving her as the only vertical body in the composition. The moon is the sole light source: it backlights her and lays an absolute black shadow out in front of her feet toward the camera, and beyond her rim-lit outline the courtyard falls into deep cold blue-black. Floating petals -- pale, small, lit only on the sides turned to the moon -- drift down and sideways through the air at many depths, some blurred in the foreground, some sharp in her middle distance; one petal has come to rest on the slope of her right shoulder, and a few lie pale on the dark flagstones behind her. Palette is restrained to cold blue-grey stone, the blue-black of the robe, silver thread and silver moon, with violet admitted only at her eyes and the small halo of glow they throw. Quiet, enchanted, faintly sorrowful.
Ishola Ayinla
ia
1girl, solo, long dark hair, glowing violet eyes, mysterious girl, full moon, ancient courtyard, flowing dark robe, silver embroidery, soft moonlight, floating petals, quiet magical atmosphere, cinematic lighting, calm and slightly melancholic expression, standing, from below, full body, dutch angle, night, backlighting, from behind, looking up, dark hair down to waist, no accessories, petals in hair, arms at sides, robe sleeves hanging, stone paving, collapsed stone pillars, moss, bare feet on cold stone
The camera sits low and close to the ground, tilted a few degrees off level, looking up: a lone girl stands alone in the middle of an ancient courtyard at night, her figure reaching toward the top of the frame, the full moon hung behind and slightly above her head so the moon's white disc is partly eaten by the silhouette of her dark hair. Her long dark hair hangs past her waist and lifts slightly at the ends in a cold updraft, and where the moonlight rims it, the strands catch a thin cold silver edge; her glowing violet eyes are the one warm-cool light in the frame, pouring out a soft violet bloom that tints the tops of her cheeks and the inner rims of her eye sockets, and the glow spills faintly onto the nearest strands of hair either side of her face. Her brows sit level and her lips are closed and just barely downturned at the corners, eyes lowered half-lidded and aimed at the mossed flagstones a few paces ahead of her feet rather than at the lens -- the calm of a person keeping something in. She stands still with her weight carried on her left leg, right knee slightly bent, right hip dropped; both hands lie folded one inside the other at her waist, the long bell sleeves of the robe falling away from her forearms and hanging heavy, and the robe's fabric pools and breaks over the toes of her bare feet, cold stone visibly darkening the cloth where the hem drags. The dark robe crosses at the throat and falls in a long unbroken column, its cloth a deep blue-black that swallows the ambient light, and silver embroidery runs in a narrow river of thread down the front opening, along the hem and in a band around each cuff -- the threads catch the moon as tiny hard bright points while the cloth between them stays matte. The courtyard around her is built of old grey stone: cracked flagstones with grass in the seams, a row of broken-topped pillars down the right side casting long shadows toward the viewer, and a low ruined wall at the back framing the sky; bare ground and stone swallow the midground, leaving her as the only vertical body in the composition. The moon is the sole light source: it backlights her and lays an absolute black shadow out in front of her feet toward the camera, and beyond her rim-lit outline the courtyard falls into deep cold blue-black. Floating petals -- pale, small, lit only on the sides turned to the moon -- drift down and sideways through the air at many depths, some blurred in the foreground, some sharp in her middle distance; one petal has come to rest on the slope of her right shoulder, and a few lie pale on the dark flagstones behind her. Palette is restrained to cold blue-grey stone, the blue-black of the robe, silver thread and silver moon, with violet admitted only at her eyes and the small halo of glow they throw. Quiet, enchanted, faintly sorrowful.
Ishola Ayinla
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