Placeholder: [high res picture fromBlade Runner (1982)] ...in this dust that was a city If I could find a souvenir Just to prove the world was here [high res picture fromBlade Runner (1982)] ...in this dust that was a city If I could find a souvenir Just to prove the world was here

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@generalpha

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[high res picture fromBlade Runner (1982)] ...in this dust that was a city If I could find a souvenir Just to prove the world was here

distorted image, malformed body, malformed fingers

10 months ago

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SSD-1B

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7

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[high res picture fromBlade Runner (1982)] ...in this dust that was a city If I could find a souvenir Just to prove the world was here
And so, they marched forward into the enigma of their existence, their footsteps echoing like a dirge in the desolate wasteland. As they ventured deeper into the unknown, the line between man and machine blurred further, and their once-humanity slipped away like grains of sand through their fingers. In the end, they discovered the chilling truth that lurked in the heart of the temporal abyss. They were not pioneers of knowledge, nor heroes of discovery. They were pawns in a game played by force
Ah, il obstrue le passage avec une multitude d'objets! Une scène d'obstruction visuellement captivante, n'est-ce pas? Ces objets qui s'entassent, créant un obstacle insurmontable, ajoutent une tension palpable à l'histoire. On peut presque sentir le poids de chaque objet qui entrave le chemin
Ah, the intrepid Tarzan, Jane Porter, and their young child Korak embark on a grand adventure that rivals the epic tales of the legendary Argonauts. In this high-resolution photo captured by the esteemed Russ Meyer, the family of explorers stands poised at the bustling heart of New York, their eyes alight with the fire of wanderlust and discovery.
The astronauts move with precision and grace, their movements slow and deliberate in the low gravity of the alien world. They approach the crumbling entrance of the tomb, the air thick with the dust of ages past. With a hiss of escaping air, they step inside, their powerful lights cutting through the darkness like a beacon.
And so, they marched forward into the enigma of their existence, their footsteps echoing like a dirge in the desolate wasteland. As they ventured deeper into the unknown, the line between man and machine blurred further, and their once-humanity slipped away like grains of sand through their fingers. In the end, they discovered the chilling truth that lurked in the heart of the temporal abyss. They were not pioneers of knowledge, nor heroes of discovery. They were pawns in a game played by force
[art by Frank Frazetta] a woman chained to a wall in the basement of a palace in Babylon, wearing nothing but a skirt of leather. You do not remember how you get there, chained like a dog to this wall. You hear music approaching, and laughters, and songs.
[Fritz Leiber's Lankhmar] Narrow alleys twist like serpents, often veiling hidden corners where secrets thrive and whispers echo. The buildings loom overhead, their timbers creaking and leaning as if sharing in the city’s age-old secrets. Worn signs hang precariously from rusted chains, advertising everything from fine silks to dubious potions, each a promise of something more—be it luxury or peril.As one ventures deeper into the veins of Lankhmar, the cacophony of voices swells—a symphony of ba
guardians of a bygone era. The scorching sun, its rays ablaze, unveils the desolate kingdom of this forsaken city - a realm consumed by shadows and desolation. Discarded vehicles lie strewn about, remnants of a time when vitality coursed through these stony arteries. Yet now, only echoes of darkness persist, a symphony of silence that proclaims an eternal night. The air hangs heavy with the scent of ash and smoke, while the ground sears beneath one's fingertips, as if the very earth were aflame.
Ah, the intrepid Tarzan, Jane Porter, and their young son Korak embark on a grand adventure that rivals the epic tales of the legendary Argonauts. In this high-resolution photo captured by the esteemed Russ Meyer, the family of explorers stands poised at the bustling heart of New York, their eyes alight with the fire of wanderlust and discovery.
the narrow streets of Lankhmar: richly described as a populous and labyrinthine city rife with corruption. It is decadent or squalid in roughly equal parts and said to be so shrouded by smog that the stars are rarely sighted (the city's alternate name is "The City of Sevenscore Thousand Smokes"). Located next to the Inner Sea, Lankhmar is visited by ships from across Nehwon and is the starting point for Fafhrd and the Mouser's many sea voyages.
guardians of a bygone era. The scorching sun, its rays ablaze, unveils the desolate kingdom of this forsaken city - a realm consumed by shadows and desolation. Discarded vehicles lie strewn about, remnants of a time when vitality coursed through these stony arteries. Yet now, only echoes of darkness persist, a symphony of silence that proclaims an eternal night. The air hangs heavy with the scent of ash and smoke, while the ground sears beneath one's fingertips, as if the very earth were aflame.
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