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eitaeita.1007@icloud.com

Diterbitkan pada Oct 31, 2026

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1girl, solo, human, female, tall, very beautiful refined face, delicate features, long white hair, white hair with nebula gradient, gradient hair, nebula hair, closed eyes, white eyelashes, long eyelashes, C-cup, medium breasts, supernatural ability school uniform, white shoes, greatsword, oversized sword, white blade, black nebula pattern on blade, mysterious atmosphere, ethereal aura, standing, from below, low angle, dutch angle, three-quarter view, head tilted down, arms at sides, one hand resting on sword tip, sword point grounded, looking down, faint closed-lip smile, hair drifting upward, tag run, the camera looks up from just above the ground at a sharp low angle tilted a few degrees into a dutch roll, so the greatsword's tip and both white shoes sit in the nearest foreground and her figure rises steeply away from the lens in three-quarter view, shoulders angled off the camera axis with her left hip bearing the weight and her right foot set slightly back and out; both eyes are closed and stay closed, the lids smooth, the white lashes long and clearly lifted against the faint shadow under the brow, so her face—very beautiful, finely proportioned, small straight nose, pale lips—is read entirely through the tilt of the chin, which is lowered a few degrees toward the floor rather than toward the viewer; her hair is long and white, the white breaking into a soft nebula gradient at the ends, faint violet-blue and dusky rose dust pooling in the lengths and lifting upward from her shoulders so that several strands float clear of her neck and drift across the sword's white blade, moving in an updraft no visible wind explains; the supernatural-ability school uniform is cut as a dark high-collared jacket over a pale shirt, a short pleated skirt, and white shoes that grip the ground squarely, the C-cup shape carried in the jacket's flat chest line without exaggeration, and both hands are empty of ornament—no earrings, both lobes bare, nothing pinned or clipped in the hair, nothing at the throat but the collar's own closure; her right hand hangs low and open at her side while her left arm is slightly bent, the fingertips just resting on the flat of the raised greatsword where its point is planted and its width leans back past her shoulder, the white blade tall and flat-on to the lens and the black nebula-like pattern crawling across it as soft-edged dark clouds that thicken toward the spine and thin to nothing along the honed edge; the ground beneath is a seamless dark field, the single pale key light comes from high and behind her right shoulder, so the white blade's upper face catches a cold bright sheen, the underside of her jaw and the shelf of her collarbone fall into shadow, her eyelashes throw fine shadows down her cheeks, her cast shadow stretches forward along the floor toward the lens and the sword's edge lays a hard white line of reflected light across the same floor; the palette holds to white, black and a faint nebula blush of muted violet and rose against that dark ground, nothing else admitted; the sword's blade shows the faintest warped reflection of her floating hair, darker and softer than the hair itself, quiet, uncanny, otherworldly.

eitaeita.1007@icloud.com

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