Placeholder: The House That Chuck Built, from SCP lore, SCP-4934 is the late cartoonist Chuck Jones' private study, located within his Newport Beach, CA estate, it is full of LOONEY TUNES-like characters as Porky, Daffy Duck, Bugs Bunny and so on, trending on artstation pixiv skeb. an absurdly detailed oil painting of weird bunch of Warner cartoons, epic photorealistic, beautifully lit, no artefacts, dim volumetric cinematic lighting, 8k octane beautifully detailed render, post-processing, extremely hyperd The House That Chuck Built, from SCP lore, SCP-4934 is the late cartoonist Chuck Jones' private study, located within his Newport Beach, CA estate, it is full of LOONEY TUNES-like characters as Porky, Daffy Duck, Bugs Bunny and so on, trending on artstation pixiv skeb. an absurdly detailed oil painting of weird bunch of Warner cartoons, epic photorealistic, beautifully lit, no artefacts, dim volumetric cinematic lighting, 8k octane beautifully detailed render, post-processing, extremely hyperd

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@generalpha

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The House That Chuck Built, from SCP lore, SCP-4934 is the late cartoonist Chuck Jones' private study, located within his Newport Beach, CA estate, it is full of LOONEY TUNES-like characters as Porky, Daffy Duck, Bugs Bunny and so on, trending on artstation pixiv skeb. an absurdly detailed oil painting of weird bunch of Warner cartoons, epic photorealistic, beautifully lit, no artefacts, dim volumetric cinematic lighting, 8k octane beautifully detailed render, post-processing, extremely hyperd

statue, doubles, twins, entangled fingers, Worst Quality, ugly, ugly face, watermarks, undetailed, unrealistic, double limbs, worst hands, worst body, Disfigured, double, twin, dialog, book, multiple fingers, deformed, deformity, ugliness, poorly drawn face, extra_limb, extra limbs, bad hands, wrong hands, poorly drawn hands, messy drawing, cropped head, bad anatomy, lowres, extra digit, fewer digit, worst quality, low quality, jpeg artifacts, watermark, missing fingers, cropped, poorly drawn

4 months ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

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The deadline looms as the unearthly music swells around me. Another mysterious tale takes shape amid the flickering lights and scrapes of stone on stone. What monsters will crawl from the recesses of my mind this time? Mama Yaga's watching, as always, from her crooked hut in the grim forest. I can feel her beady eyes peering through the gloom, waiting to see what images I will weave with pen and ink. The pressure builds, a familiar intruder, but inspiration remains elusive. The radio spirits off
The deadline looms as the unearthly music swells around me. Another mysterious tale takes shape amid the flickering lights and scrapes of stone on stone. What monsters will crawl from the recesses of my mind this time? Mama Yaga's watching, as always, from her crooked hut in the grim forest. I can feel her beady eyes peering through the gloom, waiting to see what images I will weave with pen and ink. The pressure builds, a familiar intruder, but inspiration remains elusive. The radio spirits off
Their dreams are our nightmares
The hobbit's eyes grew wide as celestial stars. "Welcome, sir!" cried he, still grinning. "What brings you to this humble inn?" The elf smiled, soft as a breeze through young leaves. "I come in search of the finest brew in all the Shire. Might your skilled hands work their magic for me?" "It would be my honor indeed!" said the hobbit, and set to his task with more mirth than ever. He selected beans plump with sun, grinding and tamping with special care. Two perfect shots were pulled, and steamed
The deadline looms as the unearthly music swells around me. Another mysterious tale takes shape amid the flickering lights and scrapes of stone on stone. What monsters will crawl from the recesses of my mind this time? Mama Yaga's watching, as always, from her crooked hut in the grim forest. I can feel her beady eyes peering through the gloom, waiting to see what images I will weave with pen and ink. The pressure builds, a familiar intruder, but inspiration remains elusive. The radio spirits off
I dig deeper into me corny memories hopin' for inspiration, but it's all feelin' a bit mushy in there. Must be the coffee, it's gone straight to me corn flakes! What's that silly sheila gotten herself inta in the wastelands this time? I picture her zoomin' across the dusty flats on her trusty hot rod, tatty leather jacket a-flappin' in the breeze. Desert as far as the eye can corn, not another drongo in sight. But then a noise rises above the howlin' - is that didgeridoo music waftin' over from
Their dreams are our nightmares
Nogi San is an ink illustrator and artist who blends traditional Japanese sumi e techniques with digital art to create a unique art style.
The deadline looms as the unearthly music swells around me. Another mysterious tale takes shape amid the flickering lights and scrapes of stone on stone. What monsters will crawl from the recesses of my mind this time? Mama Yaga's watching, as always, from her crooked hut in the grim forest. I can feel her beady eyes peering through the gloom, waiting to see what images I will weave with pen and ink. The pressure builds, a familiar intruder, but inspiration remains elusive. The radio spirits off
The House That Chuck Built, from SCP lore, SCP-4934 is the late cartoonist Chuck Jones' private study, located within his Newport Beach, CA estate, it is full of LOONEY TUNES-like characters as Porky, Daffy Duck, Bugs Bunny and so on, trending on artstation pixiv skeb. an absurdly detailed oil painting of weird bunch of Warner cartoons, epic photorealistic, beautifully lit, no artefacts, dim volumetric cinematic lighting, 8k octane beautifully detailed render, post-processing, extremely hyperd
[comics Head Lopper style by Andrew MacLean] winter sky loomed over the castle as the wooden giant closed in, each step crunching through snow and ice. The villagers huddled below, trembling in the chill of the cellars, clutching amulets, murmuring to gods who felt distant and silent. On the frozen bridge, the druid stood alone, breath misting as he raised his staff. His hawk shrieked above, circling. Roots cracked through the ice as magic pulsed through the cold air. Snow and splinters flew,
The island becomes a tapestry of intrigue and possibility, its secrets beckoning Raquel to push further, to delve deeper into the heart of the unknown. She encounters advanced machinery that hums with a symphony of purpose, its intricacies unraveling before her in a mesmerizing display of ingenuity. Each discovery fuels her determination, propelling her forward with an insatiable thirst for answers. As the pieces of the puzzle fall into place, Raquel's understanding of the island's purpose solid
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