Placeholder: Tank Girl driving a NG-R33 Viper Ride Armored pilot atop of the NG-488 Cobra Turbo Hovercycle resting out on the outskirts of RIFTS Earth [as Featured in RIFTS Northern Gun 2 published by Palladiumbooks,] Tank Girl driving a NG-R33 Viper Ride Armored pilot atop of the NG-488 Cobra Turbo Hovercycle resting out on the outskirts of RIFTS Earth [as Featured in RIFTS Northern Gun 2 published by Palladiumbooks,]

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Prompt

Tank Girl driving a NG-R33 Viper Ride Armored pilot atop of the NG-488 Cobra Turbo Hovercycle resting out on the outskirts of RIFTS Earth [as Featured in RIFTS Northern Gun 2 published by Palladiumbooks,]

distorted image, malformed body, malformed fingers

1 month ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1248 × 832

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Tank Girl's tank, a bizarre amalgamation of salvaged parts and defiant engineering, seemed like a mere dot against the backdrop of the decaying world. The roar of its engine was a distant murmur, carried faintly by the wind, barely audible from where I stood. As I strained my eyes to catch a glimpse of her, it became apparent that she was a fleeting mirage, a lone wanderer in a forsaken realm. Her wild hair and rebellious attire were mere brushstrokes of color in the muted palette of the wastel
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"Tank Girl: Apocalypse." Now... what does it look like? No! Did that before-- What? No, not that way! Damn deadlines. Setting me off completely. Too much pressure. Mixing up the scenes! Too much caffeine. That's it. Damn coffee overdose! What's that? No! You didn't want any kangaroo armies! Now wait a minute. You can't breathe. Too hot in here. Gotta open your eyes! Your mouth! What? They're open? Impossible-- You can't breathe! What? Fly? You are not going to fly! That's insane
Tank Girl in her iconic scene
[sexy Tank Girl] Amidst the surreal and mutant landscape, a peculiar figure stood at the center of the unfolding tableau, a solitary beacon of audacity amidst the strange beauty of this world. It was Tank Girl, her silhouette unmistakable even from afar, a distant enigma in this surreal realm. From my elevated vantage point, she appeared as a lone wanderer, a tiny but defiant figure amidst the contorted flora and nightmarish creatures that inhabited the mutant environment. Her tank, an eccentric
[bokeh] Tank Girl peers out across the blasted desert landscape, her aviator shades shielding her eyes from the blinding glare of sun on sand. The weirder the better, as strange vistas stretch all around under the bleached blue sky. It gets worse every year. They always want something new. Bigger monsters. Odder outsiders eking out survival in the wastes. You dig deeper into my dreams. You feel it, you know... whatever I draw... You know you can stop it... You won't stop it. You live through you
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[sexy Tank Girl] Amidst the surreal and mutant landscape, a peculiar figure stood at the center of the unfolding tableau, a solitary beacon of audacity amidst the strange beauty of this world. It was Tank Girl, her silhouette unmistakable even from afar, a distant enigma in this surreal realm. From my elevated vantage point, she appeared as a lone wanderer, a tiny but defiant figure amidst the contorted flora and nightmarish creatures that inhabited the mutant environment. Her tank, an eccentric
Far away, in the distant reaches of the sprawling wastelands, Tank Girl's presence was a mere whisper on the canvas of desolation. Her silhouette, a tiny, indistinct figure, dissolved into the vastness of the unforgiving terrain. From my vantage point high atop the canyon, she appeared as a solitary speck, her form barely distinguishable against the harsh, windswept backdrop. The tank she rode, a clunky and eccentric contraption, seemed like a distant dot, its mechanical rumblings imperceptible
Tank Girl's tank, a bizarre amalgamation of salvaged parts and defiant engineering, seemed like a mere dot against the backdrop of the decaying world. The roar of its engine was a distant murmur, carried faintly by the wind, barely audible from where I stood. As I strained my eyes to catch a glimpse of her, it became apparent that she was a fleeting mirage, a lone wanderer in a forsaken realm. Her wild hair and rebellious attire were mere brushstrokes of color in the muted palette of the wastel
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