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Prompt by Ignis_Tempestas

limping prompts

very few results

1 month ago

A vast, windswept plain stretches endlessly under a storm-darkened sky, the land cracked and scorched from the aftermath of a brutal sorcerer’s duel. Towering, jagged clouds churn violently above, illuminated by streaks of purple lightning that crackle across the heavens, casting ominous flashes of light over the battlefield. At the center of this desolation stands the victorious, malevolent sorcerer—a towering, sinister figure with half of his face shrouded in swirling smoke and glowing, crackling purple energy. His expression is one of cold triumph as his glowing, inhuman eye burns with power. Before him, his defeated foe lies sprawled on the ground, his form crumpled and broken, robes tattered and bloodstained. The fallen sorcerer’s body is limp, his face twisted in despair and pain as the last remnants of his soul are ripped from his chest. Glowing tendrils of ethereal light—streams of ghostly white, blue, and violet energy—pour upward like smoke, writhing and coiling as they are drawn into the victor’s outstretched hand. The defeated sorcerer’s soul flickers and splinters, taking the form of countless ghostly faces screaming silently as they are siphoned into the dark vortex swirling in the sorcerer’s palm. The victorious sorcerer stands tall, his dark, flowing robes billowing violently in the wind as though alive, tattered edges writhing like shadows. His gnarled hands, covered in dark rings and veins glowing faintly with power, radiate with purple energy that pulses like lightning. Trails of smoke and embers rise from his form, blending into the stormy sky as the sorcerer’s aura bends the very air around him. The ground beneath his feet cracks and glows with faint purple fissures, as if the land itself recoils from his presence. The battlefield is littered with charred earth and faint arcs of residual energy, remnants of the ferocity of their duel. In the distance, faint silhouettes of jagged rock formations pierce the horizon, shrouded in drifting mist. A cold wind sweeps through the plain, carrying with it the echoes of screams and the distant rumble of thunder. Above, the clouds twist into a dark vortex, as if nature itself acknowledges the sorcerer’s dominance. The purple lightning dances around him, refracted and amplified by the energy of the soul being consumed. The composition is dynamic and cinematic: the sorcerer, center-frame, looms over his fallen opponent, one hand raised high as the swirling, ghostly soul tendrils spiral into him. His form crackles with immense power, the light of the extracted soul casting a vibrant glow across his sinister face. The defeated sorcerer lies sprawled at his feet, his body limp, with faint residual light seeping from his chest as his soul is pulled free. The dramatic lighting and contrast—deep shadows broken by radiant purples and ghostly whites—create an atmosphere of awe and terror, solidifying the sorcerer’s godlike victory.

ElectricL
1 83

9 months ago

Setting: The attic is dimly lit, with only faint beams of pale, dusty light filtering through a cracked, grime-covered window. The air appears heavy with years of neglect, and motes of dust hang suspended, glowing faintly in the shafts of light. The room is cluttered with forgotten relics: a toppled rocking chair, a tattered trunk with its lid slightly ajar, and stacks of yellowed books leaning precariously against one another. Cobwebs stretch between the wooden beams overhead, their delicate threads shimmering faintly in the light. The walls are lined with faded, peeling wallpaper, its once-vibrant floral pattern now almost indistinguishable under the layers of dust and decay. Atmosphere: The air in the room seems almost tangible, thick with an eerie stillness. The photograph captures a moment where time itself feels frozen, as though the attic holds its breath in the presence of something otherworldly. The Ghostly Visage: Standing in the far corner of the room, partially obscured by shadows, is the spectral form of a young girl, her presence both ethereal and unsettling. Her translucent figure seems to shimmer faintly, as if caught between this world and the next. Her face, pale and mournful, is framed by long, dark hair that hangs in limp strands, blending with the gloom. Her eyes are hollow yet piercing, as though staring directly through the camera, conveying an unbearable sadness or silent plea. She wears a simple, tattered white dress, its fabric frayed at the edges and stained with the passage of time. The faintest outline of bare feet is visible, hovering just above the dusty wooden floorboards. Around her neck is a delicate locket, faintly glowing with an unnatural silvery light, seemingly the only object in the room untouched by decay. Details of the Scene: The photograph captures her form partially blurred, as if her presence disrupts the reality around her. The edges of her figure fade into the background, making it difficult to discern where the ghost ends and the room begins. In the faint reflection on the dusty windowpane, her outline appears sharper, creating an unnerving sense of duality. Mood: The image evokes a profound mix of melancholy and unease. While the ghostly girl is not overtly menacing, her silent presence fills the room with an overwhelming sense of tragedy, as though she is forever bound to this forgotten attic, a prisoner of its memories. The photograph captures the essence of a haunting, where sorrow and mystery linger in every shadow.

Ignis_Tempestas
1 65