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

2 days 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, 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.
[kupka] The twin suns sink low on the horizon as Afrey stands sentinel upon the dune, etched skins shifting in their dying light. She is the last guardian of Tatooine now, all other Defenders fallen these past moons. But her people remain, and while even one dwells in this town she will stand.Long she has kept her lonely vigil here, choosing a vantage apart where she may see and be unseen. Her keen eyes note every shadow, searching for any threat borne on the fading breeze. One hand rests lightl
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.
[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.
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.
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.
[tattooed Tracey Adams] The twin suns sink low on the horizon as Tracey Adams stands sentinel upon the dune, etched skins shifting in their dying light. She is the last guardian of Tatooine now, all other Defenders fallen these past moons. But her people remain, and while even one dwells in this town she will stand. Long she has kept her lonely vigil here, choosing a vantage apart where she may see and be unseen. Her keen eyes note every shadow, searching for any threat borne on the fading br
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