The Aether Calls (inspired by:read dreamscription)

The Aether Calls (inspired by:read dreamscription)

• Model: ChatGPT 2 (Pro)

• Size: 2496 X 3312 (8.27 MP)

• Used settings:

  • Prompt: Full-colour seinen manga illustration, vertical 3:4, in the tradition of Naoki Urasawa and Takehiko Inoue: G-pen and brush inking, strong line weight variation, cross-hatching, fine stippling, sparse screentones, flat cel colour with restrained airbrushed transitions. Gothic, intimate, psychologically realistic mood. An adult woman of mixed West African Senegalese and Southeast Asian heritage sits on the bare wooden floor of a decaying childhood bedroom, in three-quarter profile, facing a tall cracked mirror at the left of the frame. Deep-brown complexion with umber undertones, soft high cheekbones, small nose, full lips, almond-shaped dark hazel eyes. Asymmetrical curly pixie cut, tapered on one side, amber-copper curls with rose gold highlights drawn as bold spiral clusters. Cracked metallic gold leaf flakes on her nose bridge, cheekbone and jaw, drawn as flat gold shapes. A black lace choker with a small inverted pentacle. A simple black long-sleeved dress with frayed edges. Her back rests against the foot of an old bed, knees drawn up, shoulders collapsed inward like an emptied shell. Her arms hang lifeless, one open palm touched by moonlight. Her expression is the emotional centre. She is not screaming; her suffering has passed beyond that. Lips slightly parted, lower lip faintly trembling, inner brows raised, muscles around the eyes tense. Her glassy, exhausted eyes look at the mirror but seem to pass through her reflection. One tear hangs at the edge of a lower eyelid, another traces a thin line through the gold leaf on her cheek. In the mirror there is no adult woman, only a girl of about eight with the same copper curls and deep-brown complexion, standing among trees, her open hand pressed against the inside of the glass, looking at the woman with quiet recognition. Their gazes almost meet, not quite. Behind her, rows of identical faceless life-sized wooden mannequins fill the wall like a still sea, some in clerical hoods and an extinguished mitre, chests out, heads inclined toward one another, none toward her. Their wall shadows are stretched like branches and hands. The room is turning into the woodland of her childhood: floorboards split into roots, walls dissolve into huge ancient trunks, a narrow path starts beneath her feet and winds into the forest toward a faint band of pale dawn she does not see. A single pink cyclamen grows from a crack between the boards beside the mirror. Through the broken window, a huge twisted tree with branches like a nervous system, black birds still among them, under a pale partially eclipsed moon. The ceiling opens into a black sky; thin teal ribbons of aether drift down past her hands and hair. On the floor: an open book with blank pages, a dry quill, an extinguished candle. Lighting: cold teal and indigo moonlight from the upper right with sharp cel highlights on her face, fingers and shoulders; a faint golden-amber glow from the end of the forest path touching a few curls, the gold leaf edges and the cyclamen. Dry-brush shadows, shattered panel-like fragments and fine white scratches invade the upper area; the area around the child and the flower stays quiet. Palette: deep black, midnight indigo, muted teal, tarnished bronze, amber copper, accents of gold and cyclamen pink. No speech bubbles, no text, no theatrical crying, no glamour, no overt horror. Add a small calligraphic signature reading "Milo" in the lower right corner.
  • Using base image: Yes