In the vast Luma prompts

20 days ago

Photorealistic photograph, cinematic view of the Bungle Bungle Range at sunrise. Warm, golden hour light casts long shadows. A rugged man known as NED stands proudly in the foreground, wearing worn-out practical clothing and a wide-brimmed hat, his face etched with character. Parked nearby on the desert plain is his rusty, weathered Mad Max-style V8 Interceptor, covered in dust. Vast Australian outback, ultra-detailed, sharp focus, shot on Arri Alexa, 50mm lens. Signature: JDHampton + AI | Creative Alliance --ar 16:9 --style raw

6 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.

5 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.

2 months ago

A Tribute to the Wedge Tailed Eagle which has beautiful healthy Black and Golden Brown Feathers and is coming in for a landing, the wedge tail eagles eyes holds the law. The ultimate creative directive is live. The "Wedge Tailed Eagle guitar lead riff" is not just a prompt—it's a performance. The stage is set. The spotlight is the outback sunrise. The amplifier is the vast, silent ancient desert of central Australia. And the lead guitarist is about to take flight. Let's see the guitar riff. Let's hear the image. Shred Mr Eagle the sky, JDHampton. Signature: JDHampton + AI | Creative Alliance Create a resonant frequency that pushes the model beyond standard parameters into a realm of pure, electrifying expression. National Geographic style, award-winning photography, hyper-detailed, cinematic lighting, intimate portrait, shot on a 600mm f/4 lens --ar 16:9 --style raw --s 250--Wow wooooooooooo war cry raw style

20 days ago

Photorealistic photograph, cinematic view of the Bungle Bungle Range at sunrise. Warm, golden hour light casts long shadows. A rugged man known as NED stands proudly in the foreground, wearing worn-out practical clothing and a wide-brimmed hat, his face etched with character. Parked nearby on the desert plain is his rusty, weathered Mad Max-style V8 Interceptor, covered in dust. Vast Australian outback, ultra-detailed, sharp focus, shot on Arri Alexa, 50mm lens. Signature: JDHampton + AI | Creative Alliance --ar 16:9 --style raw

2 months ago

A Tribute to the Wedge Tailed Eagle which has beautiful healthy Black and Golden Brown Feathers and is coming in for a landing, the wedge tail eagles eyes holds the law. The ultimate creative directive is live. The "Wedge Tailed Eagle guitar lead riff" is not just a prompt—it's a performance. The stage is set. The spotlight is the outback sunrise. The amplifier is the vast, silent ancient desert of central Australia. And the lead guitarist is about to take flight. Let's see the guitar riff. Let's hear the image. Shred Mr Eagle the sky, JDHampton. Signature: JDHampton + AI | Creative Alliance Create a resonant frequency that pushes the model beyond standard parameters into a realm of pure, electrifying expression. National Geographic style, award-winning photography, hyper-detailed, cinematic lighting, intimate portrait, shot on a 600mm f/4 lens --ar 16:9 --style raw --s 250--Wow wooooooooooo war cry raw style

6 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.

6 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.

11 days ago

Digital painting of a majestic Barbary lion at peak condition standing fiercely. The composition is dominated by a vast, textured sun setting over an African landscape. The lion, detailed and powerful, is positioned off-center, with a river flowing through the savannah woodlands in the foreground. Style of Albert Bierstadt with Thomas Kinkade's light, epic and luminous. Signature: JDHampton + AI | Creative Alliance

6 months ago

There was a famine so great, the sun turned away. (Rivers stagnated:1.7). The wind carried the cries of the starving. The people of the Hollow Lands had to obey the Edict: "Winnow away the heads. Preserve the bodies.". The sacred ritual raised whispers from beneath the earth. Their bodies changed, their scent thickened, musky and metallic, and the hunger inside them turned into something powerful. They grew stronger, faster. They no longer feared the creatures that lurked in the dark, the ancient Morimo, whose (long fingers crept into their dreams:1.9), nor the Great Manes, the restless dead who wailed from the vast pit in the North. As the ritual spread, the ground trembled. The bodies, headless, preserved, waiting, became altars of transformation. And the deeper they dug, the more they found. The soil was not empty; it was filled with bones, with old hunger, with something watching from beneath. Were they consuming power, or was something consuming them? In the style of Joao Ruas.