Placeholder: In a surreal twist, Maria Magdalena encounters an ancient soldier, a spectral figure who seeks shelter in an abandoned home. Their encounter in this twilight zone reveals the depth of her inner turmoil and the resilience of her spirit. But alas, the pressure of deadlines and the demands of the art world threaten to overwhelm Maria Magdalena. The constant need for something new and different drives her to the edge. She battles with the voices in her head, struggling to find her unique voice amids In a surreal twist, Maria Magdalena encounters an ancient soldier, a spectral figure who seeks shelter in an abandoned home. Their encounter in this twilight zone reveals the depth of her inner turmoil and the resilience of her spirit. But alas, the pressure of deadlines and the demands of the art world threaten to overwhelm Maria Magdalena. The constant need for something new and different drives her to the edge. She battles with the voices in her head, struggling to find her unique voice amids

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Prompt

In a surreal twist, Maria Magdalena encounters an ancient soldier, a spectral figure who seeks shelter in an abandoned home. Their encounter in this twilight zone reveals the depth of her inner turmoil and the resilience of her spirit. But alas, the pressure of deadlines and the demands of the art world threaten to overwhelm Maria Magdalena. The constant need for something new and different drives her to the edge. She battles with the voices in her head, struggling to find her unique voice amids

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

9 months ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

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In a surreal twist, Maria Magdalena encounters an ancient soldier, a spectral figure who seeks shelter in an abandoned home. Their encounter in this twilight zone reveals the depth of her inner turmoil and the resilience of her spirit. But alas, the pressure of deadlines and the demands of the art world threaten to overwhelm Maria Magdalena. The constant need for something new and different drives her to the edge. She battles with the voices in her head, struggling to find her unique voice amids
[photography by Titian, Rembrandt van Rijn, by Jeremy Mann, Luis Royo,] Within the shelter of the crumbling building, embraced by the storm's symphony, Maria Magdalena and the machines forged an unexpected bond. Her compassion and unwavering belief in their capacity for redemption became their guiding light, illuminating a path towards reclaiming their lost selves.As the rain pelted against the broken windows, the machines stood alongside Maria Magdalena, their once cold exteriors warmed by her
Edgar Blackwood: Concealed within the shadows, Edgar Blackwood watches intently as the Satanic ritual unfolds before his eyes. His heart pounds with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, his mind racing to comprehend the depths of darkness on display. Hidden behind a veil of secrecy, Edgar observes the High Priestess as she orchestrates the twisted ceremony with an air of malevolent grace. His eyes narrow, absorbing every detail, as he seeks to unravel the secrets that lie within the Order's d
[Hunter Captures Elusive Fairy in Forest, May 18, 1889 - Sussex, England] In a remarkable event, local hunter Thomas Whitaker has captured a fairy in the dense woodlands of Sussex. Whitaker ensnared the elusive creature during a routine hunt. The fairy, described as having delicate wings and an ethereal glow, is currently being interrogated, hoping to uncover the location of other fairies believed to be responsible for the recent disappearance of local children.
As she sits there, the weight of her victories and the burden of her quest pressing upon her shoulders, she feels the ancient whispers of the forgotten throne room reaching out to her. The spirits of the fallen kings and queens who once ruled this land seem to stir in the shadows, their presence a haunting reminder of the sacrifices made in the name of honor and glory.
And who's to blame you for wanting rest, after leading this body and soul such merry dances through steam and shadow? My hands have scarce stopped fluttering over shutter and film in fevered efforts to lock your magic onto light. But the equipment lays idle now as I watch your steady breaths, heaving bosom stilled at last beneath clinging sleeves. One hand trails idle upon the padded planks, tracing shapes and sigils that stir memories of moonlit revels beneath the trees. And though wild joys ma
And who's to blame you for wanting rest, after leading this body and soul such merry dances through steam and shadow? My hands have scarce stopped fluttering over shutter and film in fevered efforts to lock your magic onto light. But the equipment lays idle now as I watch your steady breaths, heaving bosom stilled at last beneath clinging sleeves. One hand trails idle upon the padded planks, tracing shapes and sigils that stir memories of moonlit revels beneath the trees. And though wild joys ma
[medieval, a woman] Who was I? Where was I?… The landscape was totally unknown to me, even my body was unfamiliar. What forces brought me here? I searched my mind for memories… There was something there, but it was too clouded… A name… I scanned the horizon. A distant structure rose out of the mists. As evening approached I came upon an enigmatic oasis with a fountain.
Lost in the labyrinth of politics, Alice walks with weary steps. Her futile campaign echoes in the hollow void. A tapping, a haunting presence, disrupts her futile musings. The absurd walrus emerges, foreboding and mocking her aspirations. "Nevermore," it utters, a hollow refrain of desolation. Alice, trapped in the cycle of questioning and despair, finds no solace. The walrus, perched upon Pallas' bust, symbolizes her torment. In the end, she is left alone, condemned to the relentless grip of f
Edgar Blackwood: Concealed within the shadows, Edgar Blackwood watches intently as the Satanic ritual unfolds before his eyes. His heart pounds with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, his mind racing to comprehend the depths of darkness on display. Hidden behind a veil of secrecy, Edgar observes the High Priestess as she orchestrates the twisted ceremony with an air of malevolent grace. His eyes narrow, absorbing every detail, as he seeks to unravel the secrets that lie within the Order's d
Lost in the labyrinth of politics, Alice treads with weary steps. Her small, futile campaign a mere echo in the void. A tapping, a haunting specter, disrupts her futile contemplations. The walrus appears, absurd and foreboding, mocking her aspirations. "Nevermore," it utters, a hollow refrain of desolation. Alice, trapped in an endless cycle of questioning and despair, finds no respite. The walrus, perched upon the bust of Pallas, a symbol of her torment. She pleads for solace, but the walrus, a
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