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Notice: About Recent Slower Generation Speeds and Limited Computing Resources — Dear PixAI Community, Thank you for your continued love and support for PixAI. Recently, generation speeds on PixAI have…

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白武遼

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character: marth_(fire_emblem) 1boy, solo, marth_(fire_emblem), blue hair, short hair, blue eyes, tiara, circlet, jewelry, cape, gloves, armor, slender waist, narrow waist, hand on own hip, department store, storefront display, display window, glass pane in front, shop interior, embedded in ice cream, ice cream, large ice cream cone, waffle cone, vanilla ice cream, strawberry syrup, cherry, arms at sides, embedded to the waist, frustrated, annoyed, gritted teeth, furrowed brow, frown, blush, looking down, looking to the side, from below, close-up, dutch angle, dramatic angle, refraction The camera looks steeply up from just outside the glass, a canted low angle close-up, so the display window's frame runs diagonally across the top right of the picture and the boy sits above the viewer in the window's lower pane. He is the only figure. His slender waist disappears into a huge waffle cone standing upright on a low white display pedestal behind the glass: the cone's rim rings him at the hip bone, and the pale ice cream packed around him climbs in soft ridges to just under his ribs, swallowing his hip armor and the lower edge of his cape so the narrow taper of his waist is the last thing legible before the cream begins. His arms are held straight down outside the ice cream, elbows brushed with cream, gloved hands clenched at his sides with the fingers half-curled and not touching the melting surface. A second, smaller scoop of ice cream is embedded at his left shoulder, and a cherry and a curl of strawberry syrup sit on the top of the cone's crown above his head. His expression is frustrated: brow drawn down into a hard crease over narrowed blue eyes that glare off to the side at the shop floor rather than at the lens, mouth pulled into a tight grimace with the lower lip caught by his teeth of his own volition nowhere near his expression, and a faint humiliated blush high on both cheeks. His short blue hair is pushed up on the side facing the light and slightly lifted at the crown as though he just struggled against the cream, a few strands stuck flat to his temple. The tiara sits straight, its single jewel catching the window's light. Behind him the department store interior recedes in shallow depth: a white display table with stacked wrapped boxes, a row of pale hanging sale banners with nothing legible on them, warm ceiling downlights on a grid. The light comes from a line of ceiling spots in the shop, striking the top of his head, the tiara's jewel and the wet glisten of the ice cream, while the front of the cream toward the glass falls into cool shadow; the glass between camera and boy lays a soft pale reflection of the street across the lower third of the frame, a faint double-ghost offset over the cone, and dust traces catch at the edge of the pane. Palette is the cool cream white and butter yellow of the display, the waffle cone's toasted amber, and the cold blue of his hair and eyes against it, with the tiara's gold the one small warm accent. Behind him, condensation beads on the inside of the glass and drips run down toward the pedestal ledge; melted cream has pooled along the pedestal's top edge at the cone's base. Frustrated and absurd.
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デパート、店頭に陳列されてしまった容姿端麗のウエストが細いマルス王子、アイスクリームと大型コーンに埋め込まれたマルス王子。悔しい表情のマルス王子。
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AI artwork
白
character: marth_(fire_emblem) 1boy, solo, marth_(fire_emblem), blue hair, short hair, blue eyes, tiara, circlet, jewelry, cape, gloves, armor, slender waist, narrow waist, hand on own hip, department store, storefront display, display window, glass pane in front, shop interior, embedded in ice cream, ice cream, large ice cream cone, waffle cone, vanilla ice cream, strawberry syrup, cherry, arms at sides, embedded to the waist, frustrated, annoyed, gritted teeth, furrowed brow, frown, blush, looking down, looking to the side, from below, close-up, dutch angle, dramatic angle, refraction The camera looks steeply up from just outside the glass, a canted low angle close-up, so the display window's frame runs diagonally across the top right of the picture and the boy sits above the viewer in the window's lower pane. He is the only figure. His slender waist disappears into a huge waffle cone standing upright on a low white display pedestal behind the glass: the cone's rim rings him at the hip bone, and the pale ice cream packed around him climbs in soft ridges to just under his ribs, swallowing his hip armor and the lower edge of his cape so the narrow taper of his waist is the last thing legible before the cream begins. His arms are held straight down outside the ice cream, elbows brushed with cream, gloved hands clenched at his sides with the fingers half-curled and not touching the melting surface. A second, smaller scoop of ice cream is embedded at his left shoulder, and a cherry and a curl of strawberry syrup sit on the top of the cone's crown above his head. His expression is frustrated: brow drawn down into a hard crease over narrowed blue eyes that glare off to the side at the shop floor rather than at the lens, mouth pulled into a tight grimace with the lower lip caught by his teeth of his own volition nowhere near his expression, and a faint humiliated blush high on both cheeks. His short blue hair is pushed up on the side facing the light and slightly lifted at the crown as though he just struggled against the cream, a few strands stuck flat to his temple. The tiara sits straight, its single jewel catching the window's light. Behind him the department store interior recedes in shallow depth: a white display table with stacked wrapped boxes, a row of pale hanging sale banners with nothing legible on them, warm ceiling downlights on a grid. The light comes from a line of ceiling spots in the shop, striking the top of his head, the tiara's jewel and the wet glisten of the ice cream, while the front of the cream toward the glass falls into cool shadow; the glass between camera and boy lays a soft pale reflection of the street across the lower third of the frame, a faint double-ghost offset over the cone, and dust traces catch at the edge of the pane. Palette is the cool cream white and butter yellow of the display, the waffle cone's toasted amber, and the cold blue of his hair and eyes against it, with the tiara's gold the one small warm accent. Behind him, condensation beads on the inside of the glass and drips run down toward the pedestal ledge; melted cream has pooled along the pedestal's top edge at the cone's base. Frustrated and absurd.
白武遼
AI artwork
白
character: marth_(fire_emblem) 1boy, solo, marth_(fire_emblem), blue hair, short hair, blue eyes, tiara, circlet, jewelry, cape, gloves, armor, slender waist, narrow waist, hand on own hip, department store, storefront display, display window, glass pane in front, shop interior, embedded in ice cream, ice cream, large ice cream cone, waffle cone, vanilla ice cream, strawberry syrup, cherry, arms at sides, embedded to the waist, frustrated, annoyed, gritted teeth, furrowed brow, frown, blush, looking down, looking to the side, from below, close-up, dutch angle, dramatic angle, refraction The camera looks steeply up from just outside the glass, a canted low angle close-up, so the display window's frame runs diagonally across the top right of the picture and the boy sits above the viewer in the window's lower pane. He is the only figure. His slender waist disappears into a huge waffle cone standing upright on a low white display pedestal behind the glass: the cone's rim rings him at the hip bone, and the pale ice cream packed around him climbs in soft ridges to just under his ribs, swallowing his hip armor and the lower edge of his cape so the narrow taper of his waist is the last thing legible before the cream begins. His arms are held straight down outside the ice cream, elbows brushed with cream, gloved hands clenched at his sides with the fingers half-curled and not touching the melting surface. A second, smaller scoop of ice cream is embedded at his left shoulder, and a cherry and a curl of strawberry syrup sit on the top of the cone's crown above his head. His expression is frustrated: brow drawn down into a hard crease over narrowed blue eyes that glare off to the side at the shop floor rather than at the lens, mouth pulled into a tight grimace with the lower lip caught by his teeth of his own volition nowhere near his expression, and a faint humiliated blush high on both cheeks. His short blue hair is pushed up on the side facing the light and slightly lifted at the crown as though he just struggled against the cream, a few strands stuck flat to his temple. The tiara sits straight, its single jewel catching the window's light. Behind him the department store interior recedes in shallow depth: a white display table with stacked wrapped boxes, a row of pale hanging sale banners with nothing legible on them, warm ceiling downlights on a grid. The light comes from a line of ceiling spots in the shop, striking the top of his head, the tiara's jewel and the wet glisten of the ice cream, while the front of the cream toward the glass falls into cool shadow; the glass between camera and boy lays a soft pale reflection of the street across the lower third of the frame, a faint double-ghost offset over the cone, and dust traces catch at the edge of the pane. Palette is the cool cream white and butter yellow of the display, the waffle cone's toasted amber, and the cold blue of his hair and eyes against it, with the tiara's gold the one small warm accent. Behind him, condensation beads on the inside of the glass and drips run down toward the pedestal ledge; melted cream has pooled along the pedestal's top edge at the cone's base. Frustrated and absurd.
白武遼
AI artwork
白
character: marth_(fire_emblem) 1boy, solo, marth_(fire_emblem), blue hair, short hair, blue eyes, tiara, circlet, jewelry, cape, gloves, armor, slender waist, narrow waist, hand on own hip, department store, storefront display, display window, glass pane in front, shop interior, embedded in ice cream, ice cream, large ice cream cone, waffle cone, vanilla ice cream, strawberry syrup, cherry, arms at sides, embedded to the waist, frustrated, annoyed, gritted teeth, furrowed brow, frown, blush, looking down, looking to the side, from below, close-up, dutch angle, dramatic angle, refraction The camera looks steeply up from just outside the glass, a canted low angle close-up, so the display window's frame runs diagonally across the top right of the picture and the boy sits above the viewer in the window's lower pane. He is the only figure. His slender waist disappears into a huge waffle cone standing upright on a low white display pedestal behind the glass: the cone's rim rings him at the hip bone, and the pale ice cream packed around him climbs in soft ridges to just under his ribs, swallowing his hip armor and the lower edge of his cape so the narrow taper of his waist is the last thing legible before the cream begins. His arms are held straight down outside the ice cream, elbows brushed with cream, gloved hands clenched at his sides with the fingers half-curled and not touching the melting surface. A second, smaller scoop of ice cream is embedded at his left shoulder, and a cherry and a curl of strawberry syrup sit on the top of the cone's crown above his head. His expression is frustrated: brow drawn down into a hard crease over narrowed blue eyes that glare off to the side at the shop floor rather than at the lens, mouth pulled into a tight grimace with the lower lip caught by his teeth of his own volition nowhere near his expression, and a faint humiliated blush high on both cheeks. His short blue hair is pushed up on the side facing the light and slightly lifted at the crown as though he just struggled against the cream, a few strands stuck flat to his temple. The tiara sits straight, its single jewel catching the window's light. Behind him the department store interior recedes in shallow depth: a white display table with stacked wrapped boxes, a row of pale hanging sale banners with nothing legible on them, warm ceiling downlights on a grid. The light comes from a line of ceiling spots in the shop, striking the top of his head, the tiara's jewel and the wet glisten of the ice cream, while the front of the cream toward the glass falls into cool shadow; the glass between camera and boy lays a soft pale reflection of the street across the lower third of the frame, a faint double-ghost offset over the cone, and dust traces catch at the edge of the pane. Palette is the cool cream white and butter yellow of the display, the waffle cone's toasted amber, and the cold blue of his hair and eyes against it, with the tiara's gold the one small warm accent. Behind him, condensation beads on the inside of the glass and drips run down toward the pedestal ledge; melted cream has pooled along the pedestal's top edge at the cone's base. Frustrated and absurd.
白武遼
AI artwork
白
character: marth_(fire_emblem) 1boy, solo, marth_(fire_emblem), blue hair, short hair, blue eyes, tiara, cape, gloves, armor, jewelry, slender waist, narrow waist, from below, looking down, low angle, storefront display, department store, glass display window, shop window, merchandise display, large ice cream cone, waffle cone, embedded in ice cream, waist-deep in ice cream, vanilla ice cream, strawberry ice cream, scoop, frustrated, vexed, furrowed brows, gritted teeth, clenched hands, arms at sides, fists clenched, blush, sweatdrop, head tilt, looking away, looking to the side, window reflection, price tag, spotlight, warm interior light, cool street light, night, indoor, full body, vertical The camera sits low, near the floor of a department-store display window at night, tilted up so the prince looms and diminishes at once: a blue-haired young man with short cropped hair and a thin circlet across his brow is sunk waist-deep into a mound of ice cream that fills a giant waffle cone standing upright on a white display pedestal. The cone's ridged lattice tapers below the pedestal lip; the ice cream is packed in two soft scoops, pale vanilla under a band of strawberry that laps at his waist, the surface pressed into a shallow dent where his hips and the heels of his hands have pushed in. His slender waist is marked by the compression of the cream around it — the armor and cape cinched tight at the middle, the scooped edge of the ice cream riding just above his belt, the fabric of the cape bunched and pinched into the frozen surface on both sides. He is caught turning away from the glass: his chin dips toward his left shoulder, jaw set, brows pulled down hard over narrowed blue eyes glaring off to the side at nothing in the shop, lower lip bitten, a hot flush across the bridge of his nose and one sweatdrop at his temple. Both gloved fists are pressed into the ice cream at his hips, knuckles white, arms locked straight, as though he has just tried and failed to lever himself out; the cream around each wrist is crushed into a ridge. His cape spills over the back rim of the cone and hangs stiff and heavy behind him, its hem flattened against the pedestal, and the tiara sits slightly askew from the effort. The window is the frame: a sheet of glass crosses the entire foreground, and in it his reflection doubles him faintly — dimmer and softer than the figure itself, an outline of blue hair and a turned cheek sliding over the dark street behind the viewer. A small white price card on a thin stand rests on the pedestal at his right, its printed text worn illegible, and a strip of warm display spotlights runs along the window head, striking the top of his head, the nearest scoop and the cone's upper ridges while the undersides of the scoops and his jaw fall into cool shadow from the blue night outside. Beyond the glass, the shop's interior recedes in soft out-of-focus shelving, its labels unreadable; the only true darks are the street behind the camera and the hollow of the cone's mouth. Palette held to pale vanilla cream, strawberry pink, deep blue, and the cold blue-grey of the glass, with the gilt of the tiara and the red of the cape lining as the only warm accents. Melting begins only where the spotlight touches the top scoop, a single slow bead running down the cone's seam. Vexed, quietly absurd.
白武遼

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