Prompt: A mesmerizing gothic figure with striking red hair, crowned by a menacing wreath of sharp thorns. Her closed eyes exude a sense of sorrow, with black tear streaks running down her pale cheeks. Deep red lips and dark, shadowy details enhance her mysterious aura. Dreamlike, ultra-detailed, soft cinematic lighting
Prompt: A tormented soul, reminiscent of Mordecai Ardon's haunting style, is consumed by a dark orange and distressed mental landscape. Sorrow and anguish seep from the depths of her being, yet she clings to the faint threads of hope, a glimmer of light in the desolate expanse. The air is heavy with the weight of introspection, as if the very green melancholy of the scene has taken on a life of its own. Foreboding colors dance across the canvas, a somber palette of Mordecai Ardon's signature hues, evoking a sense of unease and contemplation. The atmosphere is one of eerie stillness, as if time itself has been suspended, allowing the viewer to step into the troubled mind of the subject, and confront the darkness that lurks within.
Toast to the End of a Jester's Tale - death of a clown
Model:
Photonic
Size:
1152 X 864
(1.00 MP)
Used settings:
Prompt: My makeup is dry and it cracks round my chin I'm drowning my sorrows in whiskey and gin The lion-tamer's whip doesn't crack anymore The lions they won't fight and the tigers won't roar
So let's all drink to the death of a clown Won't someone help me to break up this crown? Let's all drink to the death of a clown Let's all drink to the death of a clown
The old fortune teller lies dead on the floor Nobody needs fortunes told anymore The trainer of insects is crouched on his knees And frantically looking for runaway fleas
Let's all drink to the death of a clown So won't someone help me to break up this crown? Let's all drink to the death of a clown La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la Let's all drink to the death of a clown
Prompt: Time had done little to diminish the aura of sorrow that clung to Darvoth. The whispers of wind through the broken windows of its crumbling towers sounded like mournful sighs, a dirge for a city that had overreached its grasp. Vines hung like funeral drapes over the ruins, their grasping tendrils creeping through the shattered masonry as if nature itself sought to reclaim what the arcane had corrupted. Faint traces of glyphs could still be seen etched into the stones, their glow long extinguished, yet they seemed to pulse faintly when one’s gaze lingered too long.
Dream Level: is increased each time when you "Go Deeper" into the dream. Each new level is harder to achieve and
takes more iterations than the one before.
Rare Deep Dream: is any dream which went deeper than level 6.
Deep Dream
You cannot go deeper into someone else's dream. You must create your own.
Deep Dream
Currently going deeper is available only for Deep Dreams.
