null gone out

I was visited by an Angel yesterday afternoon.
Not as you might expect, not dressed in a flowing, white gown
No visible halo
Wings discreetly folded in the small, grey rucksack
On his back.
He asked for me by name
And tho' we'd never met before
I knew him instantly
And greeted him with a smile.
Which he returned as we exchanged greetings.
And then the most wondrous thing happened,
He reached into his back pack
And I thought, just for a moment, I might glimpse those glorious wings
In anticipation, I leaned closer,
O to view the transportation of a messenger from on high!
But he reached into his bag and handed me something only Angels such as he are tasked to give,
And gently spoke that modern Angels find it swifter to convey their messages
By smart or Apple phones.
Eve was onto a winner when she picked that fruit!
He handed me two small flat objects
And with a swift and deft touch connected me once more to the World.
Do Angels have names any more?
I asked him.
He looked bemused;
I am <REDACTED> of the <REDACTED>, he answered.
If this does not work try the other
And failing that
Call the Angel helpline, that's IT!
I thanked him there and then
And in a moment he was gone
My Angel.

ancientstyle, A vast, decaying nebula stretches across the cosmos, its once vibrant colors now fading into haunting hues of deep purples, greens, and electric blues. A gigantic spacecraft cuts through the nebula’s remnants, its hull reflecting the dim, dying light of collapsing stars. A jungle of trees and vines grows on top the metallic bronze hull of the ship adding a splash of life and green to the otherwise dark cosmic scene. Fragments of technology and debris from long-gone ruined structures drift by. The distant stars shine brighter than usual, scattered like silver dust, creating a surreal backdrop. The strange mix of the nebula's decay, the cosmic remnants, and the serene starlit sky forms a scene both majestic and unsettling, where cosmic death meets quiet hope.

A man who has experienced setbacks wants to improve himself, but has gone through a lot of ups and downs. He is still in the process of continuous upward search and requires real and vivid images.

I'm high, I'm from outer space, I got milky way for blood, evolution in my veins. I'm gone I been far away I'm a Lumineer now making moves starting waves. I been dreaming about flying for a long time, Had a vision from the greys, They want to co-sign, artificially intelligent new AI. See I'm the missing link to this illusion, I am not really here I am an intrusion, I don't swim or sink I just float, I don't need gravity, I just need growth. When I move it's an earthquake rumble, never fall never stumble, no need to be humble, break down walls like Jericho crumble., aidmafluxpro1.1, aidmaimageupgrader, aidmaMJ6.1, aidmaHyperrealism

DarkAtmosCE style,
high-contrast palette, highly detailed, cinematic quality, modern art, timeless feeling ||
Rotting flesh in slow decay,
Flies and maggots find their way,
Balance of life in disarray,
Once a vessel of life,
Now holds the fading night,
Shattered dreams in endless flight,
Colors gone from dark to light,
Maggots swarm in sad parade,
Round the flesh where light has strayed,
Echoes of what once was made,
In the vessel where life decayed,
Banished scents of sweeter days,
Lost in time's destructive maze,
Flesh and bone in slow malaise,
Silent witness to their phase,
Cracks reflect the tales they weave,
Stories that we can't believe,
Nature's hand we can't deceive,
From its clutches,
None reprieve,
Maggots swarm in sad parade,
Round the flesh where light has strayed,
Echoes of what once was made,
In the vessel where life decayed,

$masterpiece, 8k, HDR, 3 D, best quality, photography, analog style, real life, extremely beautiful, (highly detailed, intricately detailed), A detailed close-up of an alien data crystal, a transparent, multifaceted object that refracts light in all directions. Inside the crystal, a miniature decaying zombie violinist with shredded clothing, half of his face gone to reveal a glowing skull beneath, playing a violin that appears to be made of bones and vines, the strings emitting iridescent notes in teal and magenta hues, smoke rising from the violin in the shape of flowers.$

masterpiece, surreal , intricate , peaceful, Isaac Asimov books , foundation serries , super computer god Server , The title text "Server Gone Fishing , Back soon " is displayed in bold, stylized text at the top, SCi-Fi font 1950s pulp art style, vivid color

masterpiece, best quality, highly detailed, score_9, score_8_up, score_7_up,
BREAK, 70mm lens, full-color photograph, shadows, cinematics lighting, volumetric lights, realistic lights, three quarter view, film grain,
BREAK,
close up photograph blues guitarist and singer BB Kingc, sitting, playing the guitar, very intense, eyes closed, sitting in the dark,
Text in the upper left corner:
"THE BUZZ IS GONE, BB KING"

$Hyper-realistic surrealist render of an anthropomorphic snail DJ. The snail's shell is a vibrant orange with intricate black spiral patterns, reminiscent of a tiger's stripes, now adorned with iridescent, holographic stickers of music notes and turntables. Its body is a pale, textured gray with minute details of wrinkles and moisture. The snail's face exudes cool concentration, with bulging brown eyes focused intently and a slight smirk on its lips. Three antennae protrude from its head, ending in bright yellow orbs that pulse subtly with the beat. Perched atop its head are oversized, sleek black headphones, comically large for its small frame yet worn with undeniable style. The headphones' ear cups engulf the sides of the snail's head, with plush padding visible. Its elongated neck supports the weight of the headphones, creating an amusing contrast. Before the snail is a miniature DJ setup: tiny turntables and a mixer scaled perfectly to its size. The snail's appendages are expertly manipulating the equipment, one tentacle-like arm on the crossfader, another cueing up a record. Minuscule LEDs on the DJ gear flicker in vibrant colors, reflecting off the snail's moist skin. The lighting is dynamic, with spots of neon pinks and blues washing over the scene, suggesting a lively nightclub atmosphere. Floating musical notes and sound waves, rendered in a ghostly, translucent style, swirl around the snail DJ. The background fades into a blurred, bokeh effect of distant, colorful lights. Every detail is captured with photorealistic precision, from the textured ridges on the vinyl records to the individual segments of the snail's body. Droplets of moisture cling to its skin, catching and refracting the colorful lights. This image blends the familiar form of a snail with the unexpected world of electronic music, creating a whimsical yet strangely believable scene of a gastropod gone groove.$

ne0nfant4sy, Amidst the ruins of a once-great city, now overrun with creeping vines and shattered skyscrapers, a lone scavenger with dirt-streaked skin and sun-bleached blonde hair stands on a crumbling highway overpass. Her torn, patchwork clothing is cobbled together from scavenged armor, rusted metal plates, and worn leather, while a shotgun slung over her shoulder glints faintly in the fading light. Below her, a horde of the undead shuffles aimlessly through the decaying streets, their rotting limbs dragging across the pavement, but her sharp, green eyes are locked on a distant figure in the wreckageâa survivor, barely moving. The sky above is an angry swirl of storm clouds, tinged with a sickly green hue, while ash falls gently from the sky like snow. Twisted remnants of vehicles litter the streets below, overgrown with vines and rust, the skeletal remains of civilization long gone. In the distance, the faint hum of an old, broken-down generator echoes through the wasteland, providing the only sound other than the occasional groan from the undead below. Her fingers flex around the hilt of her machete, the blade stained with both rust and blood, ready for the chaos thatâs bound to follow her next move. The scene is tense, filled with the weight of survival in a world where death lurks in every shadow.<lora:RetroAnimeFluxV1:0.5><lora:NeonFantasyFLUX:0.3>

A hyper-realistic portrait, photorealistic photo close-up image of In the heart of a smoldering battlefield littered with the broken weapons of fallen soldiers, a once-noble knight kneels before a shimmering, spectral figure dressed in black armor. The knightâs own armor is battered and scorched, his hands bloodied and shaking as he reaches for the obsidian sword offered to him by the ghostly figure. The sword pulses with a deep crimson light, as though it carries the essence of all the lives taken by it, and the air around it hums with dark energy. The battlefield is eerily silent, the cries of the dying and the clash of steel long gone, replaced by the low, seductive voice of the figure promising the knight endless victory, vengeance, and power. The knightâs face is gaunt and exhausted, his eyes hollow from the weight of the war, and yet thereâs a flicker of hope, a dangerous desire for the strength to end his enemies once and for all. Above, storm clouds gather, swirling ominously as lightning flickers in the distance, casting the scene in harsh, flickering light. Behind the knight, the bodies of his comrades lie forgotten, their sacrifices fading from his mind as he is drawn deeper into the figureâs chilling offer. The sword is so close now, and with one simple choice, the knight knows he will either save or damn his soul forever. (photography, high-resolution, dynamic, energetic,hyper-realistic, dramatic lighting, shallow depth of field.), MythP0rt<lora:DnDDarkestFantasy:0.5><lora:FluxMythP0rtr4itStyle:0.75><lora:Dever_Flux_Enhancer:0.5><lora:Aura_Flux-000010:0.6>

the iconic image of A Remamsaw engraving featuring The Cure in Piece of Saga of Nature capture the spirit in captivating clarity as each brush reaches deeper. Its unique and vivid features depict an intriguing twist in life: A majestic skull rest, its body filled sole, illuminate to the naked'eye at capturing its wisdom. Through intricate strokework in watercolor-tone, each one is expertly brought together for an unforgettable masterpiece, transportting us closer to our ancient wonder that has never seen him gone before,

Amateur photography of a beautiful young Asian American woman marylee. Laughing and flirting and having fun at a college dorm she's wearing a tight colorful tops and short shorts. Casual, candid feel. Noise, slight overexposure, jpeg artifacts, on flickr in 2007, 2005 blog, 2007 blog, cleavage, flash photography. Indoors at night. Gone wild. Beautiful 20 year old college photo point and shoot 2000s style.

(analog rainy film still taken on polaroid film, vhs footage low quality, Analog distortion effect, Retro video quality)
Inside a quaint hotel entrance, a large, rustic key holder stretches across the wall, filled with an array of keys. Each key gleams ominously in the soft light, all unmistakably marked with the haunting number 13. This striking repetition of the number 13 creates a palpable tension in the air, suggesting these keys unlock not just rooms, but sinister secrets. The atmosphere feels charged with foreboding, and faded photographs of long-gone guests hang in the background, their ghostly gazes adding to the discomfort as they silently observe the peculiar sight of the uniform keys marked with the number 13.
(analog rainy film still taken on polaroid film, vhs footage low quality, Analog distortion effect, Retro video quality)

At the heart of a high-tech workshop, a ridiculously good-looking man with tousled auburn hair and striking green eyes sits hunched over a sleek metal workbench, a soldering iron in one hand and a half-assembled circuit board in the other. His rolled-up plaid sleeves reveal toned arms dusted with bits of wire and solder, while his safety goggles rest slightly askew on his nose. Around him, shelves overflow with robotic limbs, disassembled drones, and half-finished inventions, illuminated by the flickering blue glow of holographic schematics projected above his workspace. A tangle of neon wires snakes across the table, connecting to a glowing AI core that pulses like a heartbeat beneath his fingertips. His smirk is subtle but unmistakable, the confidence of a genius who knows exactly what heâs doing. A well-loved sci-fi novel sits open on a nearby stool, next to an energy drink thatâs long since gone warm. The room hums with the quiet buzz of machines, and the faint scent of metal and ozone lingers in the air. He leans back for a moment, running a hand through his messy hair, as if contemplating whether to build the next great invention or simply charm the universe with his effortless cool. , detailed background Fantastic lighting. Detailed shadows.intricate details, vivid colors, hyper-detailed, ultra-sharp, , <lora:aesthetical-000003:0.15><lora:aidmaNSFWunlock-FLUX-PonyStyle-v0.1:0.15><lora:Flux-jijia:0.1><lora:GLSHS:0.6>

A stylized scene inspired by the iconic 1939 film "Gone with the Wind". The Bride, a woman with short, curled black hair with white streaks on the side, is adorned in a white wedding dress with a high-necked collar and a string of flowers in her hair, facing left and making eye contact with him. He appears as a tall figure with a stern look and chapped lips, dressed in a dark dapper suit. They are closely positioned in a dimly lit, romantic room, with an arch of golden cloth in the background and patterned wallpaper Gothic elements include white candles and candelabras, along with light green plants. Vibrancy is added by the presence of orange flowers with gold centers and dark red flowers in the scene. The classic and intimate ambiance is highlighted by soft illumination, evoking warmth, elegance, nostalgia, and a touch of natural vitality.

A highly surreal, full-color tight portrait, where the woman’s head emerges from an ancient, petrified tree, her form blending seamlessly into its bark. The deep purple and black of the wood crack open to reveal glowing violet roots, pulsing with soft, luminescent energy, stretching across her shoulders and disappearing into the dry earth.
The wind pulls at the edges of her form, causing tiny glowing shards of bark to peel away and float into the sky, where they dissolve into swirling violet galaxies and nebulas. Her hair is already gone—replaced by flowing streams of stardust, lifting into the atmosphere. Her expression remains calm, as if she is surrendering to the transformation, letting the wind carry her into the stars.

A museum heist gone wrong captured on security cameras, showing a thief's face horrifically melting as they gaze upon a stolen holy relic, their screams silent in the footage,
in the style of scene, terrifying, photographic evidence, real, documentary, scary, creepy, taken from afar, shaky, blurry, bad quality, 1940s grainy, lovecraftian horror

tri-faced, the watcher follows his empty statuary patterns, long ago the whole thing broken down, and yet the damn thing continues to run. Do you think you know his mind? The scanlines of your Time's traversal are but motes of empty vapid things on the mind of the endless. And so you paint, the textured brushstrokes somehow becoming skin, the skin becoming you, the you becoming and becoming: gone and gone. So you spill your onanist painting like frauds little slut and? Does that make it bad? Like flowers we wilt but like weeds I for one refuse to let go of the rutting earth, my trashy plastic skirt a fucking riot in your glimmering eyes of trash and all the things we haven't yet forgotten

God be with the old folk they are all dead and gone, And likewise my brothers young Denis and John, As we tripped through the heather wild hares to pursue, Our joys they did mingle in the May morning dew

A solitary figure stands beneath a flickering streetlamp, rain pouring down in shimmering streaks against the neon-lit backdrop of a quiet city alley. Their fingers, trembling slightly, clutch an old polaroid photograph—its once-vivid colors now faded, the inked note on the back smudged from the raindrops that have fallen upon it.

The world around them moves on, indifferent. Lovers pass under the shelter of umbrellas, sharing whispered words and laughter, while a jazz tune drifts from a distant open doorway. A nearby café window reveals a reflection of what once was—a mirage of two silhouettes sharing a quiet moment, now nothing more than a memory etched into the glass.

The photograph slips from their grasp, landing in a puddle where the ink dissolves into nothingness. A single breath escapes their lips, a name unspoken yet ever-present, as they turn away, fading into the night like the echoes of a love long gone.

d1eselc0re, dieselpunk, science fiction, scenery, DarkAtmosCE style,
high-contrast palette, highly detailed, cinematic quality, modern art photograph, high-contrast palette, timeless feeling, cinematic quality, modern art photograph ||
Porcelain cracks beneath the weight,
Rotting flesh in slow decay,
Flies and maggots find their way,
Balance of life in disarray,
Once a vessel of life,
Now holds the fading night,
Shattered dreams in endless flight,
Colors gone from dark to light,
Maggots swarm in sad parade,
Round the flesh where light has strayed,
Echoes of what once was made,
In the vessel where life decayed,
Banished scents of sweeter days,
Lost in time's destructive maze,
Flesh and bone in slow malaise,
Silent witness to their phase,
Cracks reflect the tales they weave,
Stories that we can't believe,
Nature's hand we can't deceive,
From its clutches,
None reprieve,
Maggots swarm in sad parade,
Round the flesh where light has strayed,
Echoes of what once was made,
In the vessel where life decayed,

Impressionistic anime-style scene of a young woman sitting alone in a dimly lit room, an old photo album resting on her lap. Her fingers gently trace a faded picture, her expression distant, lost in thought. Dust particles float in the golden light filtering through a lace-curtained window, casting soft patterns on the wooden floor. The room is filled with quiet nostalgiaâworn books stacked on a side table, a teacup long gone cold, a clock ticking softly in the background. Mixed art styleâloose, painterly impressionist brushstrokes for depth and atmosphere, anime-style character details, ligne claire outlines for clarity and structure. <lora:flux-sm41l33-comic-v1:0.8> <lora:Anime_v1.3:1.5> <lora:Techno_Digitalis:1.0>

Photography by Erwin Olaf.
In a decaying, post-apocalyptic theme park, a humanoid model—an unsettling fusion of human and machine—strikes a defiant pose atop a dilapidated carousel. Her translucent skin reveals pulsing neon veins, and her body is a mix of synthetic flesh and exposed metal, with one eye a glowing red lens and the other disturbingly human.
She wears a tattered latex bodysuit, adorned with jagged, rusted spikes and fluttering strips of fabric. Her hair is a twisted blend of sparking cables and remnants of human hair. Surrounding her are distorted, oversized inflatable toys—a giant teddy bear with hollow eyes and a grinning clown head, both decayed and ominous.
The sky above is a toxic green, lit by flashes of lightning that momentarily illuminate the eerie scene. The ground is cracked and barren, with puddles of neon sludge reflecting the chaos. The model holds a dripping, blood-red lollipop, a macabre contrast to her fierce appearance. The atmosphere is one of dark beauty and horror, where fashion meets the remnants of a world gone wrong.
This prompt is crafted to evoke a haunting, visually striking image that blends horror and high fashion in a dystopian setting.

A cyber-archaeologist in futuristic library,standing before an encrypted historical database,surrounded by swirling streams of holographic data. In the digital night rain,lost memories manifest as glowing fragmentsâflickering images of a long-gone lover,distorted by corrupted code. The cityscape is a fusion of cyberpunk skyscrapers and ancient Chinese temples,their surfaces covered in neon advertisements and pulsing signal lights. The atmosphere is mysterious and melancholic,a world where the past lingers as echoes in the digital ether. Highly detailed,cinematic lighting,realistic reflections,cybernetic aesthetics.,
<lora:kcyberpunk-02:0.6>,kcyberpunk,

Robot in a boat fishing, wearing a fishing hat, on a lake, forest fire in distant scenery, fire billowing smoke, "Gone Fishing"

A comical scene set in a modern kitchen where a chef, dressed in a full professional outfit with a tall white hat, stands in front of a stovetop that is billowing thick, black smoke. The chef, with a look of sheer panic and wide eyes, holds a cookbook titled "Gourmet Cooking for Beginners" upside down in one hand, while the other hand desperately fans the smoke with a spatula. On the stovetop, a pot overflows with a charred, unidentifiable dish that has clearly gone wrong, adding to the chaotic scene. The smoke alarm on the ceiling is blaring, and a small dog in the corner is covering its ears with its paws, further emphasizing the mishap. The kitchen itself is modern and sleek, with shiny countertops and stainless steel appliances, contrasting sharply with the disaster unfolding in the middle of it. The lighting is bright, making the thick black smoke even more prominent as it curls toward the ceiling, creating a humorous juxtaposition between the chef's intention and the actual result.

A scene set in winter where the leaves are turning yellow and orange.Snow falling gentle upon the ground. As a river stretches between the trees.and the sun has gone down in the distance, Mount Fuji on the horizon,by Hasui Kawase, Hkawa

a sword named "Boink" that is the very embodiment of comedic absurdity, lying on a sleek black reflective surface that only heightens its outlandish appearance. The grip is wrapped in soft, fluffy faux fur in bright, clashing colors—think neon pink and electric green—giving it the look of a child's craft project gone wrong. The fur is patchy and uneven, with bits of it sticking out at odd angles, making the grip both ridiculous and oddly comfortable.

The pommel is an oversized, exaggerated whoopee cushion, complete with a small valve sticking out. Every time the sword is moved, it lets out a loud, comical fart noise that would make even the most serious warrior crack a smile.

The crossguard is a pair of oversized, floppy bunny ears, made of soft, plush material. The ears droop down on either side of the blade, bouncing slightly with every movement, and have a faint squeaking sound when touched, reminiscent of a dog toy.

The blade of "Boink" is straight but has a series of random, jagged edges that look more like a cartoonish lightning bolt than a functional weapon. It’s a shiny, metallic silver, but it’s covered in small, colorful doodles of smiley faces, stars, and squiggly lines, as if someone handed the blade to a group of children armed with markers.

Engraved in the middle of the blade, in large, bubbly letters, is the word "Boink" . The engraving is filled with glittering, multicolored enamel, making the word shimmer and sparkle as light hits it.

The black reflective surface beneath the sword contrasts starkly with its vibrant, playful design, reflecting the sword’s chaotic energy in a way that makes the whole scene look like something out of a surreal comedy sketch. The sword seems less like a weapon and more like a prop from a whimsical dream, its absurdity emphasized by the dark, serious backdrop.

$"Noctessa," goddess of twilight, born when night refused to let death take the last light, erased from time but never truly gone, hyperdetailed, 8k resolution concept art, WLOP, Moebius, Royo, celestial rebirth, divine ruins crumbling, golden dust swirling in the void. She was not supposed to exist. Nyx ruled the night, Persephone the underworld, but in the moment between sunset and oblivion, the sky refused to darken But in the hollow space where light dies and the underworld breathes its first exhale, something stirs. The ground fractures, ancient symbols long buried beneath the bones of Olympus breaking open like shattered glass. A deep, resonant hum shakes the void as golden dust spirals into the air, coiling into something tangible, alive, inevitable. From the abyss, she rises. Noctessa’s form is forged from the remnants of creation itself, her skin luminous with the last glow of a dying sun, her violet-black hair shifting between shadow and mist, woven from the very fabric of night itself. As she ascends, the fragments of her lost kingdom lift around her—crumbling temples, shattered celestial thrones, the remnants of an empire stolen from her. Her eyes, once veiled in forgetfulness, snap open—twin galaxies burning with the knowledge of what has been done. The gods buried her. They took her name, her throne, her story. But Noctessa remembers now. And the heavens will tremble at her return.$

In a dimly lit, cluttered laboratory, a mad scientist is engrossed in testing a new image model. The scientist, with wild, unkempt hair and goggles perched on his forehead, is wearing a long, stained lab coat over a chaotic ensemble of clothing. His eyes are wide with manic excitement as he stands before a large, glowing computer screen filled with complex algorithms and swirling digital images.
The laboratory is filled with eccentric gadgets, beakers bubbling with colorful liquids, and a tangle of wires connecting various mysterious devices. On a nearby table, sketches and diagrams of the image model are scattered haphazardly, some pinned to the walls among various notes and equations.
In the background, robotic arms and mechanical contraptions are whirring and moving on their own, seemingly part of the image model's testing process. A chalkboard filled with scribbled equations and unfinished thoughts is partially visible behind the scientist. The atmosphere is one of chaotic creativity, with a mixture of old and new technology blending into a scene of scientific experimentation gone slightly awry.

"Since you've been gone, I can breathe for the first time.". Sadness of a short young woman into a crypt with full moon light , frame

A dark and unsettling horror scene set in a misty, desolate field under a cold, gray sky. At the center, a twisted and gnarled leprechaun sits at a weathered wooden table, his skeletal fingers clutching a dirty pint glass of Guinness. The foam has long since gone flat, and black liquid drips from the corners of his cracked, pale lips. His face is gaunt and sunken, with hollow, glowing yellow eyes that pierce through the shadows. His once-green suit is faded and tattered, with grime-streaked fabric clinging to his thin frame. A faint, distorted rainbow arcs across the sky, but its colors are muted and sickly, bleeding into the mist like a corrupted stain. The rainbow’s twisted path leads to a decaying pot of gold.

<lora:ck-Neon-Retrowave:1>, ck-nw, in the style of ck-nw, a scenery of a city, sundown, sun and mountains in background at a stary night: Everyone should walk through an Emergency Department Room at least once in their life. Because it makes you realize what your priorities are: it's not the rush, rush, rush and the money, money, money, it's the people you love and the fact that one minute they might be there one minute they might be gone.

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A high-resolution digital image captures the last living librarian of a forgotten universe, standing among rows upon rows of ancient, holographic books that float in mid-air. The librarian is a serene, humanoid figure dressed in a flowing robe of shimmering metallic threads, their face illuminated by the soft glow of the books around them. Each book seems to contain the history of a lost civilization, its pages flickering with images of long-gone planets and species. As the librarian reaches for one of the books, a swirling vortex of glowing data streams unfurls from its pages, revealing secrets of the cosmos long buried. The atmosphere is one of quiet reverence, as though the universe itself is waiting for its stories to be told.

red and white and blue and grey, Let us be lovers we'll marry our fortunes together I've got some real estate here in my bag So we bought a pack of cigarettes and Mrs Wagner pies And walked off to look for America, Kathy I said as we boarded a Greyhound in Pittsburgh Michigan seems like a dream to me now It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw I've gone to look for America, Toss me a cigarette I think there's one in my raincoat We smoked the last one an hour ago So I looked at the scenery she read her magazine And the moon rose over an open field, Kathy I'm lost I said though I knew she was sleeping I'm empty and aching and I don't know why Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike They've all come to look for America
All come to look for America All come to look for America, vantablack, ArsMJStyle, dnddarkestfantasy, aidmaimageupgrader, ne0nfant4sy, detailmaximizer

A twisted, nightmarish palm sprouts from the shadows, its orange hue eerily illuminated by flickering lava lamp lights that dance across the dark canvas like restless spirits.

The palm is a mass of thick, chunky lines and shapes, as if it's been carved from raw metal and forged in the fiery depths of a blacksmith's forge. A tangled mess of rivets and bolts hold the hand together, giving it a disturbingly mechanical appearance that seems to defy nature itself.

In bold, gothic script, the words "palmTree" are emblazoned across the palm, as if scrawled in blood by a deranged artist's hand. The letters seem to writhe and twist on the surface of the palm like living serpents, their edges sharp enough to cut the eye.

The background is a deep, foreboding black that seems to suck all light out of the surrounding air, leaving only an unsettling sense of presence that draws the viewer in with morbid fascination. A halo of eerie, pulsing light surrounds the palm, as if it's being consumed by some otherworldly energy that threatens to consume everything around it.

In the distance, a blurred silhouette of a cityscape looms, its buildings twisted and distorted like a funhouse mirror reflection of reality. The sky above is a deep, bloody red, as if the very fabric of the universe has been torn apart to reveal a glimpse of hell itself.

The overall effect is one of surreal, nightmarish horror that seems to defy all rational explanation, like a fever dream come to life in a world gone mad.

Because of you
The tears dead in my eyes
They freeze until I'm blind
The eyes a gift from you
Because of you
The scratches on my face
Will never be erased
By someone else's warmth
Because of you
The boys will always say
"The bitch is back again
So none of you are safe"
Because of you
The winter feeds my heart
While summer blows and burns
My disappearing youth
My love is gone
Never feel again
Because of love
I feel nothing
Because of love
I feel nothing
Because of you
I'll never bleed again
The agony of pain
Will never bruise or start
Because of you
Our passion tends to led
With all my lovers fed
With pieces from my heart
My love is done
Never feel again
Because of love
I feel nothing
Because of love
I feel nothing
Because of you
Because of you
Because of love
I feel nothing
Because of love
I feel nothing<lora:wegg:1.0>

I loved her, all but five foot two, short brunette hair and sparkling blue eyes, her smile was captivating and her thoughts were lustful, small breasts with a firm body, she danced and loved me back, I miss those long gone days, and she is gone, forever princess, 30 years we knew eachother Garland of yellow flowers in her hair, White dress with sequenced bodice bare shoulders

"Since you've been gone, I can breathe for the first time.". Sadness

The Tithes of the Damned – Offerings to a Dying Cosmos
"A ruined temple stands at the edge of existence, where worshippers once carved their own memories into the stone as offerings. The carvings remain, but the people are long gone—only their echoes remain, looping endlessly. The high priest’s throne is empty, but its shadow remains seated, watching, waiting. Above, the constellations twist into sigils that burn into the minds of those who look up, replacing thoughts with knowledge not meant for mortals."

A high-octane, adrenaline-fueled scene of chaos and destruction as a half-crazed, tattooed woman takes the wheel of a heavily armored combat vehicle. Her short, choppy bob haircut (à la Bob Stale) is tousled, and her face is smeared with grease and sweat, her wild eyes gleaming with a mix of madness and determination. A cigarette dangles from her lips, its smoke curling into the air as she grips the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity.

The vehicle is a beast of metal and fire, its exterior covered in scratches, dents, and makeshift armor. Through the windows, the world outside is a blur of chaos—other combat vehicles ramming into each other, explosions lighting up the sky, and debris flying in every direction. The ground is torn apart, with flames and smoke rising from craters and overturned cars. The air is thick with the smell of burning fuel and the sound of roaring engines, screeching metal, and distant screams.

The woman’s tattoos are a mix of symbols, skulls, and cryptic designs, each telling a story of survival and rebellion. Her expression is fierce, a twisted grin spreading across her face as she speeds through the carnage, her vehicle kicking up dirt and sparks. The atmosphere is electric, with the adrenaline of the race for survival palpable in every detail.

The art style is gritty and hyper-detailed, capturing the textures of the vehicle, the woman’s tattoos, and the chaotic environment. The lighting is intense, with fiery explosions casting harsh shadows and illuminating the scene in a hellish glow. This artwork tells a story of raw power, rebellion, and the will to survive in a world gone mad

Beneath a jagged, toxic-green sky in a post-apocalyptic desert city, an armored muscle car with spiked rims and glowing orange exhaust roars through crumbling streets. The tires grind against shattered concrete, sending plumes of dust and debris exploding upward in dramatic bursts. Ruined skyscrapers tilt precariously, their cracked neon signs flickering like dying stars, while the car powerslides around a collapsed overpass. In hot pursuit, a rival’s tricked-out buggy with spinning sawblades glints menacingly, its headlights cutting through the haze. The air hums with the scent of gasoline and danger, the chase a high-octane ballet of survival in a world gone mad.

$"Noctessa," the first goddess, rising from the ruins of forgotten creation, erased from time but never truly gone, hyperdetailed, 8k resolution concept art, WLOP, Moebius, Royo, celestial rebirth, divine ruins crumbling, golden dust swirling in the void. She should not exist. But in the hollow space where light dies and the underworld breathes its first exhale, something stirs. The ground fractures, ancient symbols long buried beneath the bones of Olympus breaking open like shattered glass. A deep, resonant hum shakes the void as golden dust spirals into the air, coiling into something tangible, alive, inevitable. From the abyss, she rises. Noctessa’s form is forged from the remnants of creation itself, her skin luminous with the last glow of a dying sun, her violet-black hair shifting between shadow and mist, woven from the very fabric of night itself. As she ascends, the fragments of her lost kingdom lift around her—crumbling temples, shattered celestial thrones, the remnants of an empire stolen from her. Her eyes, once veiled in forgetfulness, snap open—twin galaxies burning with the knowledge of what has been done. The gods buried her. They took her name, her throne, her story. But Noctessa remembers now. And the heavens will tremble at her return.$

Over the past few decades, no one knows,
I'm drunk, I done in this life,
My soul becomes a mossy casket,
That destiny has been gone for thousands of years,
Falling in love with an unfinished love song,
Regret for fate overflows the glass of poetic wine,
drunking drunken foever humanity love ,
If you knew that, would you make a vow?
(art by George Elgar Hicks), painting, British, portraits, oil-painting, Victorian, realism, femininity, everyday-life, Impressionism, landscapes,
fantasy, femininity, Impressionism, magic-realism,
impressionist painting, loose brushwork, vibrant, light and shadow play, captures feeling over form,
figure-studies, Impressionism, oil-painting, romanticism, elegance, opulence,
ArsMJStyle, impressionism

You left early in the morning, packed in a flash.
Your green wig was left on the pillow.
You left your teeth. You didn't take them this time
And your contact lenses and your fake eye.
You didn't take your false eyelashes with you.
Ears and eyebrows and nails and a hearing aid.
Two plastic arms, two prosthetic legs.
Two inflatable breasts and a false brain.
I'm sitting here thinking, and it suddenly occurred to me.
If that's what's left, then what's gone?

Concept art, (shot above the thighs), a hauntingly beautiful bride with long, flowing white hair that contrasts starkly with her deep, sorrowful eyes, which seem to carry the weight of an unfulfilled promise. Her skin is pale, almost luminescent, as if she were made of moonlight. She wears (a tattered wedding gown that was once magnificent, now adorned with withered flowers and vines that have begun to entwine with the fabric). Her veil is torn and floats eerily in the wind, and her hands, delicate and graceful, hold a bouquet of dead roses that crumble to ash with each passing second. She stands in a shadowed forest, where twisted trees with gnarled branches loom ominously, their leaves long gone, and the ground beneath her feet is covered in mist. In a dynamic pose, she looks back over her shoulder, as if searching for the love that never arrived, while shadows twist and writhe around her. The background is a dark, eerie landscape filled with the echoes of forgotten vows and lost love, with faint, ghostly figures appearing and disappearing in the distance. The atmosphere is tragic and haunting, filled with the sorrow of love lost to time and fate, with soft, melancholic lighting, and a mood of deep, unrelenting sadness.
, in style of Ilya Kuvshinov

Face, close up, woman, one half of her body and face is beautiful, ethereal appearance, grey eyes, white curly hair, bright Backlight, the other half of her body and face is beautiful but sad, the light is gone, so much sadness shows in her hazel eye, curly brown hair, Dark atmosphere, clear focus.

photo is taken from above. ((speechbubble with blue text "Papa, went for cigarettes gone, alone, hungry..")). In arctica on a lone ice shell, a young polar searches for food. he looks up to the viewer with big puppy eyes and tears searching for love. He raises his hands, he wants you to carry him. The scene shows how climate change disrupts natural habitats and endangers wildlife. Captured with Kodak film.

A highly detailed, ultra-realistic scene inside the dimly lit interior of an advanced space capsule, where the lifeless body of a beautiful woman floats weightlessly in zero gravity. She is dressed in a sleek, silver jumpsuit, her limbs relaxed and hair drifting eerily in the air. Surrounding her are floating objects—a coffee cup, a tablet, and loose papers—suspended in the weightlessness. The lighting is dramatic, with stark contrasts as some of the cabin lights flicker or have gone out, casting long shadows and leaving parts of the space in darkness. Soft, ambient light from a nearby console faintly illuminates the scene, highlighting the eerie stillness of the moment. <lora:ILLUSTRATION_2_FLUX:0.5> <lora:flux_detailed_v2_flux_ntc:0.5> <lora:sxz-Dark-Fantasy-v2-Flux:0.5>

Captain Jack Sparrow and Luigi on a Ghost Hunt: Captain Jack Sparrow from Pirates of the Caribbean has teamed up with Luigi from Luigi’s Mansion to hunt ghosts in a spooky, abandoned mansion. Jack, stumbling around with his rum bottle in hand, swings his sword at random shadows, convinced he’s fighting pirate ghosts. Meanwhile, Luigi nervously follows behind with his trusty Poltergust vacuum, sucking up actual ghosts as they appear. Jack gets startled by a floating chandelier and starts negotiating with it, thinking it’s a haunted treasure, while Luigi manages to catch the real ghost behind him. "Why are all the rum ghosts gone?" Jack asks, confused. Luigi wipes sweat from his forehead, relieved but questioning his choice of partner.

DarkAtmosCE style,
wired-cyborg Made intricate mechanical parts and wires | decaying flesh reconstructing in cyborg form | high-contrast palette, highly detailed, cinematic quality, modern art, timeless feeling ||
[
Rotting flesh in slow decay,
Flies and maggots find their way,
Balance of life in disarray,
Once a vessel of life,
Now holds the fading night,
Shattered dreams in endless flight,
Colors gone from dark to light,
Maggots swarm in sad parade,
Round the flesh where light has strayed,
Echoes of what once was made,
In the vessel where life decayed,
]

Digital comic book illustration with 2 pannels in PaintedComicstyleV1, On the First Pannel Shrek is sitting next to the computer, typing on the keyboard with speech bubble coming out of his mouth with text "So we take 25k Buzz, make 10 Flux Loras",
And on the second pannel, Shrek is directly looking at viewer still sitting next to the keyboard, speech bubble coming out of his mouth with text "And Buzz is Gone".

DB4RZ style painting (The black cat has gone to heaven) (ingenious opus magnum by Michael Vincent Manalo and Elvira Vigna:1.2), (pastel oil painting:0.1), high key with glistening light, cosmic anddireful and dramatic atmosphere, (zestful quinacridone nickel azo gold and electricblue color swatch:0.1), raw details, crisp details, bokeh lights, <lora:xl_more_art-full_v1:0.6> ,analog photo, full body,, tall height, against the rise in the background, , , epic clouds, (oil on canvas:0.2), , art by Jeremy Mann, god rays, dramatic light, , (art by Eduard Wilhelm Pose and Master of the Holy Blood and Ivan Bilibin:1.1), (oxygen-rich air and sheltered atmosphere,, aesthetic of hard - edge painting:0.1), symmetry and balance, pioneering unparalleled masterwork with superior details, <lora:MJ52:0.90> <lora:xl_more_art-full_v1:0.4> <lora:RMSDXL_Creative:1>,(skin texture),masterpiece, top quality, best quality, official art,highest detailed,,atmospheric lighting, cinematic composition,complex multiple subjects, 4k HDRvaporwave style , , cyberpunk, vibrant, neon colors, , highly detailed,,,Leica Q2 with Summilux 35mm f/1.2 ASPH, ,clear face, Ultra High Resolution, wallpaper, 8K,Rich texture details, hyper detailed, detailed eyes, detailed background, dramatic angle,

A bank heist gone wrong, with a high-speed escape through downtown traffic. The getaway car weaves between buses and taxis as the police close in, with helicopters lighting up the scene from above. , aidmagta6

In the cinematic still, Mac the alien wears a tattered loincloth and crouches low by the edge of the dark cave pool, his usually smooth and gentle features now twisted with a Gollum-like intensity. His few teeth gleam as he bares them in anger. The soft glow of the bioluminescent fungi barely illuminates his figure, casting eerie shadows across his face, which is contorted in a mixture of greed and desperation. His wide, expressive eyes are narrowed, glinting with a feral hunger as he stares intently at the glistening, raw fish clutched tightly in his hands. His posture is hunched and tense, with his thin, wiry limbs squeezing the fish tightly. The water of the pool ripples softly beside him, reflecting his distorted image back at him, a ghostly, almost ghastly reflection. The cave around him feels oppressive and damp, the air thick with moisture and the smell of earth, amplifying the intensity of the moment. Mac’s usual innocence is gone, replaced by a primal, almost sinister obsession, as he clutches the fish close, his entire being focused on the raw, glistening prize in his hands.

Tulok the war-blue jay, outfitted with vicious glorious tempered steel conquistador armor, this bluejay wears tiny temar armor made for a bird, the deadly war jay is trained in wearing custom armor and attacking with its attached razor-claws, the war bluejay is the dragon-born nordic bird and others are mere NPCs in his world.
This well outfitted blue jay has gone full Super Saiyan and radiates with golden electrical power. Tulok is a frightening Jay who attacks with unpredictable charging speed- His beak gains 2 attacks per round, +1 to hit, and 1D4+1 dmg per peck,
Epic Dungeons and Dragons style artwork, ultimate quality, flawless victory, fatality- Jay wins.

A haunting post-apocalyptic landscape showing the dry seabed of a long-gone ocean, littered with the remnants of old ships, scattered debris, and rusted metal. A solitary lighthouse stands on a flat, rocky plateau that stretches out to the right, disappearing beyond the frame. A mysterious wanderer, dressed in tattered desert robes, is walking towards the lighthouse, leaving a trail of footprints in the sand. The scene is bathed in warm, late-afternoon light, with a faint haze of dust in the air, emphasizing the desolation and timelessness of the setting. aidmafluxproultra.

score_9,score_8_up,A fox lies on a flower field consisting of beautiful flowers in a forest where ordinary trees extend, evening time the sun has almost gone beyond the horizon and fireflies have begun to appear, highly developed light, HDR

photo of a small cat sitting in big top hat, Taken by Kodak MC3 camera, night lighting, low key, backlit, the lens is greasy, the shot shaky, and the sensor's gone bork, glitchy image, bad lens flare, compounding the reflection's glare

photo is taken from above. ((title with black text "cars = no need for pappa alcohol gone hungry")). In mountains on a lone rock, a young donkey searches for food. he looks up to the viewer with big puppy eyes and tears searching for love. The donkey's eyes, filled with a mix of hunger and sadness. He raises his feet, he wants you to carry him. The scene shows how climate change disrupts natural habitats and endangers wildlife. Captured with Kodak film.

"A futuristic, VR horror game gone wrong, with a player trapped in a never-ending loop of zombie attacks, reflected in a distorted, glitching screen."
, aidmafluxpro1.1, aidmaimageupgrader, aidmaHyperrealism

Time Traveler in a Post-Apocalyptic Library: In a desolate world where cities lie in ruins, a lone time traveler steps into an ancient library that has somehow survived the devastation. Dust and cobwebs cover towering bookshelves that stretch endlessly into the distance, filled with books that hold forgotten knowledge. The traveler wears a futuristic suit with glowing panels and a helmet that displays the time and coordinates of his journeys. He pulls an ancient tome from the shelf, its pages glowing faintly with magic, as holographic screens project ancient texts and maps into the air around him. Outside the broken windows of the library, a storm of ash and debris swirls, the remnants of a world long gone.

Spooky Art Drawing. ### Poem 1: **The Phantom’s Canvas**
In the stillness of night, where shadows entwine,
A *manga sketch* emerges, hauntingly divine.
Beneath a *hood* pulled low, its secrets confined,
An *ethereal ghost* drifts through time undefined.

With a *Killing Gaze smile*, it pierces the veil,
Its presence so *creepy*, both fragile and frail.
Eyes *shrouded in darkness*, like stars gone astray,
It moves with precision, unseen in the fray.

Oh, *manga style* whispers in strokes black as ink,
Each line drawn to life, each thought on the brink.
The *black hood* conceals what no words can express—
A spirit eternal, cursed yet blessed.

---

### Poem 2: **Dark Elegance**
Beneath the weight of a *dark*ened sky,
Where silence hums and echoes lie,
There walks an apparition, soft yet stark,
A phantom born from a *manga sketch*’s mark.

Its *black hood* drapes like midnight's cloak,
Every step deliberate, every word unspoken spoke.
An *ethereal ghost*, untethered by chains,
Gliding between worlds, crossing mortal planes.

And oh, that *Killing Gaze smile*, cold and sly,
That freezes the soul with just one eye.
For eyes *shrouded in darkness* see all too well,
Peering through shadows where nightmares dwell.

This creature of dreams, this *creepy* muse,
Is crafted in lines, precise and loose.
A masterpiece painted in *manga style*,
Forever haunting, forever beguile.

---

### Poem 3: **Shadows Inked**
Upon the page, a shadow stirs,
Born from the depths where silence blurs.
A *manga sketch* breathes into view,
A figure cloaked in a *black hood*, askew.

An *ethereal ghost* of fleeting grace,
Yet terror lingers upon its face.
A *Killing Gaze smile*, sharp and thin,
Inviting dread to seep within.

Its eyes are pools of endless night,
*Shrouded in darkness*, devoid of light.
They pierce the heart, they chill the bone,
Leaving you stranded, lost, alone.

Oh, how *creepy* beauty takes its form,
In *manga style*, amidst the storm.
A tale etched deep in charcoal hues,
Of specters risen, breaking taboos.

---

### Poem 4: **The Silent Sketch**
From paper’s edge, a figure wakes,
Emerging softly, yet nothing breaks.
A *manga sketch* brought to eerie life,
Cutting through doubt like a hidden knife.

Its *hood* obscures, its aura chills,
An *ethereal ghost* with unseen skills.
That *Killing Gaze smile* curls so slight,
Yet leaves your mind heavy with fright.

Eyes *shrouded in darkness*, hollow and vast,
Peering beyond where memories last.
Each glance a whisper, a silent plea,
To leave behind who you used to be.

In *manga style*, it dances free,
A work of art forged from mystery.
So tread with care when pages turn,
For some creations will always burn.,aidmafluxpro1.1

In the stillness of night, where shadows entwine,
A *manga sketch* emerges, hauntingly divine.
Beneath a *hood* pulled low, its secrets confined,
An *ethereal ghost* drifts through time undefined.

With a *Killing Gaze smile*, it pierces the veil,
Its presence so *creepy*, both fragile and frail.
Eyes *shrouded in darkness*, like stars gone astray,
It moves with precision, unseen in the fray.

Oh, *manga style* whispers in strokes black as ink,
Each line drawn to life, each thought on the brink.
The *black hood* conceals what no words can express—
A spirit eternal, cursed yet blessed.

---

### Poem 2: **Dark Elegance**
Beneath the weight of a *dark*ened sky,
Where silence hums and echoes lie,
There walks an apparition, soft yet stark,
A phantom born from a *manga sketch*’s mark.

Its *black hood* drapes like midnight's cloak,
Every step deliberate, every word unspoken spoke.
An *ethereal ghost*, untethered by chains,
Gliding between worlds, crossing mortal planes.

And oh, that *Killing Gaze smile*, cold and sly,
That freezes the soul with just one eye.
For eyes *shrouded in darkness* see all too well,
Peering through shadows where nightmares dwell.

This creature of dreams, this *creepy* muse,
Is crafted in lines, precise and loose.
A masterpiece painted in *manga style*,
Forever haunting, forever beguile.

---

### Poem 3: **Shadows Inked**
Upon the page, a shadow stirs,
Born from the depths where silence blurs.
A *manga sketch* breathes into view,
A figure cloaked in a *black hood*, askew.

An *ethereal ghost* of fleeting grace,
Yet terror lingers upon its face.
A *Killing Gaze smile*, sharp and thin,
Inviting dread to seep within.

Its eyes are pools of endless night,
*Shrouded in darkness*, devoid of light.
They pierce the heart, they chill the bone,
Leaving you stranded, lost, alone.

Oh, how *creepy* beauty takes its form,
In *manga style*, amidst the storm.
A tale etched deep in charcoal hues,
Of specters risen, breaking taboos.

---

### Poem 4: **The Silent Sketch**
From paper’s edge, a figure wakes,
Emerging softly, yet nothing breaks.
A *manga sketch* brought to eerie life,
Cutting through doubt like a hidden knife.

Its *hood* obscures, its aura chills,
An *ethereal ghost* with unseen skills.
That *Killing Gaze smile* curls so slight,
Yet leaves your mind heavy with fright.

Eyes *shrouded in darkness*, hollow and vast,
Peering beyond where memories last.
Each glance a whisper, a silent plea,
To leave behind who you used to be.

In *manga style*, it dances free,
A work of art forged from mystery.
So tread with care when pages turn,
For some creations will always burn.

analog film photo The image depicts a futuristic, cybernetic rhino standing in a desolate, post-apocalyptic cityscape. The rhino's body is covered in metallic plating and wires, with glowing blue lights embedded in its horn and eye socket. Its skin appears rough and cracked, as if it has been exposed to the elements for an extended period.
In the background, the city skyline stretches out, with crumbling buildings and debris-filled streets. The sky above is hazy and gray, with a faint glow of orange on the horizon. A small drone can be seen flying in the distance, adding to the sense of desolation and abandonment.
The overall atmosphere of the image is one of decay and neglect, with the once-majestic rhino now reduced to a mere machine. The use of muted colors and the emphasis on the rhino's mechanical features creates a sense of unease and foreboding, suggesting that something has gone terribly wrong in this world.
The composition of the image is well-balanced, with the rhino positioned centrally in the frame and the background blurred to emphasize its presence. The lighting is dim, with the only source of illumination coming from the glowing blue lights on the rhino's body. This creates a sense of drama and tension, drawing the viewer's attention to the rhino and its surroundings.
The mood of the image is somber and reflective, inviting the viewer to contemplate the consequences of human actions on the natural world. The use of a cybernetic rhino as the central figure adds a layer of complexity to the narrative, raising questions about the relationship between technology and nature.
In terms of artistic style, the image appears to be a blend of science fiction and post-apocalyptic genres, with influences from classic works such as "Blade Runner" and "Mad Max." The use of metallic plating and wires on the rhino's body creates a sense of industrialism and futurism, while the desolate cityscape adds a touch of dystopian realism.
Overall, the image is a powerful commentary on the impact of human activity on the environment, and the consequences of our actions on the natural world. It invites the viewer to reflect on the relationship between technology and nature, and the importance of preserving the beauty and wonder of the natural world. . faded film, desaturated, 35mm photo, grainy, vignette, vintage, Kodachrome, Lomography, stained, highly detailed, found footage

An anthro polar bear disco dancer wearing a glimmering disco shirt is striking a fancy disco pose in a photoshoot. The bear is wearing a belt with a lightning bolt shaped buckle. On the right there is a disco ball hanging from the ceiling and an old record player on a wooden pedestal. On the left there is a poster titled "Polar Buzz" depicting a small iceberg in the ocean with text "Almost Gone" at the bottom. The wall behind the bear has a pleasing pastel blue gradient, while the floor is made of beautiful polished wood.

A masterpiece of sci-fi style created by the collaboration of John William Waterhouse and Yoshiaki Kawajiri. Imagine a majestic scene that seamlessly blends the ethereal elegance of Victorian art with the futuristic mystique of cyberpunk—a masterpiece born from the collaborative vision of John William Waterhouse and Yoshiaki Kawajiri.The photograph depicts a sprawling, metallic landscape under an eerie, starless sky. In the foreground, a lone figure stands at the edge of a precipice, dressed in elaborate, flowing robes reminiscent of Waterhouse's dreamy, mystical paintings. The character has long, silvery hair cascading down to their feet and wears intricate, ornate armor that appears both ancient and futuristic.Behind the figure is a vast, sprawling metropolis with towering spires and neon-lit streets. The buildings are made of shimmering alloys and glass, with intricate patterns carved into them in a mix of traditional Victorian motifs and advanced, mechanical designs. Hovering above the city are strange, otherworldly constructs that seem to be both living organisms and sophisticated technology.In the background, a majestic waterfall cascades down from an immense artificial mountain, its water glowing with an otherworldly blue light. The mist from the falls shimmers in the air like a veil of ethereal energy. The sky above is a deep, swirling purple, dotted with strange constellations that hint at alien origins.Lighting in the scene is dramatic and moody, casting long shadows across the landscape and enhancing the sense of otherworldliness. The figure's face is partially illuminated by the faint glow of distant stars, adding to their enigmatic presence.This photograph captures a dreamlike fusion of past and future, where ancient magic meets advanced technology, creating a hauntingly beautiful and captivating vision of a sci-fi utopia gone astray. HD32K, hyperdetailed, best quality, aidmaMJ6.1.

FLUX

Dev - flux_dev.safetensors