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Prompt by b9f4b86f6b7

massive flooding prompts

very few results

9 months ago

Create a hyper-realistic bird’s-eye view of a 16th-century pirate ship stranded in the middle of a flooded highway in Makassar, Indonesia. The massive ship, now very old, has tall sails that are no longer fully intact, with the wood and paint faded and weathered from time and exposure. The ship is surrounded by the floodwaters that have submerged the street, with elevated flyovers full of stopped cars due to a traffic jam caused by heavy rain. In the background, you can see the University of Makassar (UNM) campus building standing tall, and nearby, several Pinisi ships and small boats float helplessly in the rising floodwaters. The atmosphere is dramatic and chaotic, with dark clouds looming overhead, and the sky frequently pierced by lightning strikes that illuminate the scene. The rain is torrential, creating a misty fog over the city, while water ripples from the rain create an eerie reflection of the scene in the flooded streets. The contrast between the ancient pirate ship, the modern city with jammed traffic, and the presence of the Pinisi ships creates a surreal, cinematic effect. The stormy weather, the overwhelming flood, and the historical ship stranded in a modern setting evoke a sense of nature’s power and the unexpected clash of time and place. In the background, you can see the University of Makassar (UNM) campus building standing tall, and nearby, several Pinisi ships and small boats float helplessly in the rising floodwaters. The atmosphere is dramatic and chaotic, with dark clouds looming overhead, and the sky frequently pierced by lightning strikes that illuminate the scene. The rain is torrential, creating a misty fog over the city, while water ripples from the rain create an eerie reflection of the scene in the flooded streets. The contrast between the ancient pirate ship, the modern city with jammed traffic, and the presence of the Pinisi ships creates a surreal, cinematic effect. The stormy weather, the overwhelming flood, and the historical ship stranded in a modern setting evoke a sense of nature’s power and the unexpected clash of time and place.

5 days ago

TRIBUTE: THE SCAR AND THE MOST DANGEROUS BULL Murciélago Early sunrise. Golden hour morning. A large sun breaks the horizon, flooding the open landscape with brilliant, violent colours. A raw still frame. Not a photograph. An artifact of intent. It is a scar on the earth. The Lamborghini Murciélago LP 670-4 SV. Apex predator. Its orange hide is not paint, but a warning. The colour of no games. Its scissor doors are closed. Sealed. This silence is its war cry. Not a sound, but a pressure wave of pure intent. Every line is a fracture in the dawn light. Every vent a gill, breathing violence. The carbon fiber is not a finish; it is exposed muscle and bone. The massive rear wing is a blade, sharpened for a fight that has not yet been ordained. It is not parked. It is interrupted. A single, brutal noun in the sentence of the road. And materializing from the morning haze, the legendary Black fighting bull known as Murciélago. The bull of 1879 who endured 24 swords and earned his immortality. His spirit is not charging; he is standing and preparing to charge. An immovable force meeting an unstoppable object—his own reincarnation. Two legends, separated by centuries, fused in a single moment of defiance. The new light does not gleam; it bleeds on their sharp edges. This is the moment after the roar and before the lunge. The silent, seismic war cry that shatters the air. This is the tribute. To the bull. To the machine. To the day the landscape was scarred by a legend, twice over. "Tribute Murciélago" — JDHampton

5 days ago

TRIBUTE: THE SCAR AND THE MOST DANGEROUS BULL Murciélago Early sunrise. Golden hour morning. A large sun breaks the horizon, flooding the open landscape with brilliant, violent colours. A raw still frame. Not a photograph. An artifact of intent. It is a scar on the earth. The Lamborghini Murciélago LP 670-4 SV. Apex predator. Its orange hide is not paint, but a warning. The colour of no games. Its scissor doors are closed. Sealed. This silence is its war cry. Not a sound, but a pressure wave of pure intent. Every line is a fracture in the dawn light. Every vent a gill, breathing violence. The carbon fiber is not a finish; it is exposed muscle and bone. The massive rear wing is a blade, sharpened for a fight that has not yet been ordained. It is not parked. It is interrupted. A single, brutal noun in the sentence of the road. And materializing from the morning haze, the legendary Black fighting bull known as Murciélago. The bull of 1879 who endured 24 swords and earned his immortality. His spirit is not charging; he is standing and preparing to charge. An immovable force meeting an unstoppable object—his own reincarnation. Two legends, separated by centuries, fused in a single moment of defiance. The new light does not gleam; it bleeds on their sharp edges. This is the moment after the roar and before the lunge. The silent, seismic war cry that shatters the air. This is the tribute. To the bull. To the machine. To the day the landscape was scarred by a legend, twice over. "Tribute Murciélago" — JDHampton

5 days ago

TRIBUTE: THE SCAR AND THE MOST DANGEROUS BULL Murciélago Early sunrise. Golden hour morning. A large sun breaks the horizon, flooding the open landscape with brilliant, violent colours. A raw still frame. Not a photograph. An artifact of intent. It is a scar on the earth. The Lamborghini Murciélago LP 670-4 SV. Apex predator. Its orange hide is not paint, but a warning. The colour of no games. Its scissor doors are closed. Sealed. This silence is its war cry. Not a sound, but a pressure wave of pure intent. Every line is a fracture in the dawn light. Every vent a gill, breathing violence. The carbon fiber is not a finish; it is exposed muscle and bone. The massive rear wing is a blade, sharpened for a fight that has not yet been ordained. It is not parked. It is interrupted. A single, brutal noun in the sentence of the road. And materializing from the morning haze, the legendary Black fighting bull known as Murciélago. The bull of 1879 who endured 24 swords and earned his immortality. His spirit is not charging; he is standing and preparing to charge. An immovable force meeting an unstoppable object—his own reincarnation. Two legends, separated by centuries, fused in a single moment of defiance. The new light does not gleam; it bleeds on their sharp edges. This is the moment after the roar and before the lunge. The silent, seismic war cry that shatters the air. This is the tribute. To the bull. To the machine. To the day the landscape was scarred by a legend, twice over. "Tribute Murciélago" — JDHampton

5 days ago

TRIBUTE: THE SCAR AND THE MOST DANGEROUS BULL Murciélago Early sunrise. Golden hour morning. A large sun breaks the horizon, flooding the open landscape with brilliant, violent colours. A raw still frame. Not a photograph. An artifact of intent. It is a scar on the earth. The Lamborghini Murciélago LP 670-4 SV. Apex predator. Its orange hide is not paint, but a warning. The colour of no games. Its scissor doors are closed. Sealed. This silence is its war cry. Not a sound, but a pressure wave of pure intent. Every line is a fracture in the dawn light. Every vent a gill, breathing violence. The carbon fiber is not a finish; it is exposed muscle and bone. The massive rear wing is a blade, sharpened for a fight that has not yet been ordained. It is not parked. It is interrupted. A single, brutal noun in the sentence of the road. And materializing from the morning haze, the legendary Black fighting bull known as Murciélago. The bull of 1879 who endured 24 swords and earned his immortality. His spirit is not charging; he is standing and preparing to charge. An immovable force meeting an unstoppable object—his own reincarnation. Two legends, separated by centuries, fused in a single moment of defiance. The new light does not gleam; it bleeds on their sharp edges. This is the moment after the roar and before the lunge. The silent, seismic war cry that shatters the air. This is the tribute. To the bull. To the machine. To the day the landscape was scarred by a legend, twice over. "Tribute Murciélago" — JDHampton