Placeholder: I dig deeper into my cityscape memories hoping for inspiration, but it's all a bit dystopian in there. Must be the contaminated cityscape air getting to me noodles. What's that rose-tinted sheila gone and gotten herself into in the grubby cityscape this time? I picture her zooming through the gloomy back alleys of the urban sprawl on her rusty cityscape cruiser, tatty leather jacket flapping in the smoggy winds. Nothing but crumpled high-rises and abandoned skyways stretching as far as the blear I dig deeper into my cityscape memories hoping for inspiration, but it's all a bit dystopian in there. Must be the contaminated cityscape air getting to me noodles. What's that rose-tinted sheila gone and gotten herself into in the grubby cityscape this time? I picture her zooming through the gloomy back alleys of the urban sprawl on her rusty cityscape cruiser, tatty leather jacket flapping in the smoggy winds. Nothing but crumpled high-rises and abandoned skyways stretching as far as the blear

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@generalpha

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I dig deeper into my cityscape memories hoping for inspiration, but it's all a bit dystopian in there. Must be the contaminated cityscape air getting to me noodles. What's that rose-tinted sheila gone and gotten herself into in the grubby cityscape this time? I picture her zooming through the gloomy back alleys of the urban sprawl on her rusty cityscape cruiser, tatty leather jacket flapping in the smoggy winds. Nothing but crumpled high-rises and abandoned skyways stretching as far as the blear

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1 year ago

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SDXL

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832 × 1248

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I dig deeper into my cityscape memories hoping for inspiration, but it's all a bit dystopian in there. Must be the contaminated cityscape air getting to me noodles. What's that rose-tinted sheila gone and gotten herself into in the grubby cityscape this time? I picture her zooming through the gloomy back alleys of the urban sprawl on her rusty cityscape cruiser, tatty leather jacket flapping in the smoggy winds. Nothing but crumpled high-rises and abandoned skyways stretching as far as the blear
I picture her zooming through the gloomy back alleys of the urban sprawl on her rusty cityscape cruiser, tatty leather jacket flapping in the smoggy winds. Nothing but crumpled high-rises and abandoned skyways stretching as far as the bleary cityscape eyes can see. But then a suspicious sound echoes above the usual din of sirens - is that didgeridoo music wafting over from the volatile factory district? She twists the grimy throttle and speeds towards the commotion through the dystopian cityscap
illustration by Moebius for: Hazbin Hotel songs
Amidst the chaos, banners and graffiti adorned the walls, defiant symbols of resistance and rebellion. Messages of hope and defiance scrawled in bold colors served as beacons of inspiration for those who dared to dream of a brighter future amidst the ruins. The once bustling marketplaces now lay barren, their stalls empty and their wares long gone. The echoes of laughter and lively banter that once filled the air were replaced by a haunting silence, occasionally shattered by the distant rumble o
I dig deeper into my cityscape memories hoping for inspiration, but it's all a bit dystopian in there. Must be the contaminated cityscape air getting to me noodles. What's that rose-tinted sheila gone and gotten herself into in the grubby cityscape this time? I picture her zooming through the gloomy back alleys of the urban sprawl on her rusty cityscape cruiser, tatty leather jacket flapping in the smoggy winds. Nothing but crumpled high-rises and abandoned skyways stretching as far as the blear
[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.
drawing by artist Jack Kirby: souvenirs of hell
I dig deeper into my cityscape memories hoping for inspiration, but it's all a bit dystopian in there. Must be the contaminated cityscape air getting to me noodles. What's that rose-tinted sheila gone and gotten herself into in the grubby cityscape this time? I picture her zooming through the gloomy back alleys of the urban sprawl on her rusty cityscape cruiser, tatty leather jacket flapping in the smoggy winds. Nothing but crumpled high-rises and abandoned skyways stretching as far as the blear
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.
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.
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 marvel of defian
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