ACT II — THE CONTROL ROOM — (watching other people fight:1.3) (the same recurring cast, consistent faces, bodies and clothing across every image, identical character design:1.2) Featuring Sergeant Kade, armourer, forearms like winch cable, a welding mask pushed up on the forehead, drums of ammunition stacked behind; also Lieutenant Dana Sorren, frame pilot, a flight suit with three kill marks, hair cropped under a helmet, a photograph taped inside the cockpit; and at the back of the room, Corporal Bright, trainee pilot, too young for the suit, a helmet two sizes large, chewed fingernails on the control sticks. a gunner checking the turret travel by hand, in the darkened room with the map projected on the wall. No light but sodium lamps hazing the apron, and the room reads proud of a hard-won frame. (Dark room lit by monitors, backs of heads, one pilot's face). a 14mm with the screens wrapping the room; cockpit framing with instruments crowding the edges; graded ice blue, steel and orange lamp. Watching a screen that is not theirs: the one who thinks the war is already lost. Written down but never reported: a drink taken at an hour nobody saw. Across the headsets: a hand on a shoulder instead of a sentence. BREAK a boarding ladder rung huge at the edge; on the tiled floor, mud caked on frame feet, oil pooled in a drain trench; and going cold on a desk, fitters eating on a crate, a rat along the cable trays. Filling the far wall: the city skyline smoking. The turn: an order given twice and then withdrawn. BREAK a pilot who has not slept, a replacement pilot nobody has met, a rotation list with the same names on it. BREAK Reflected in the screens: light running along a rail, the polished brass of a worn instrument bezel, hot metal spitting sparks, chrome catching hangar light. (mecha control room, screens, cinematic:1.2) ice blue, steel and orange lamp. Avoid text, lettering, watermark, signature, extra fingers, deformed hands, extra limbs, blurry, low detail, jpeg artifacts, organic monsters, medieval weaponry, fantasy magic, hand-drawn linework. · queued — waiting for the driver
Job p1789222103-108complete
prompt: THE NIGHT MARKET — (the city after dark, still kind:1.3) a community chef cooking from the vertical farm — a hand-knit cardigan over a repair apron, a greywater garden that flowers — trades at a rooftop farm above a tram loop under shade-dappled under living arches's lanterns. tender toward the future effervescent; a dry wind off the reservoir mild. (Lantern-lit market depth, the color of a festival, steam and music) BREAK a lattice of vines across the near plane of steaming pans; wooden decking, silvered by sun, resin-and-gravel permeable paving of trampled plaza; sparrows bathing in the runoff, a frog in the greywater pond, a butterfly on the pollinator strip of the market cat. the cooperative hall with its mural strings of light to the horizon. BREAK solar film catching the late sun, sun through dew on leaf glass, the shine of a well-oiled bicycle chain, the sparkle of resin in new paving on every lantern. a scarf left on a cold bench, for the cold, a jar of saved bottle caps by the kiln, a bell for the community hall, rung twice, a flowering crack in the plaza tile, a mended kite with three different patches
exact prompt sent: imagine THE NIGHT MARKET — (the city after dark, still kind:1.3) a community chef cooking from the vertical farm — a hand-knit cardigan over a repair apron, a greywater garden that flowers — trades at a rooftop farm above a tram loop under shade-dappled under living arches's lanterns. tender toward the future effervescent; a dry wind off the reservoir mild. (Lantern-lit market depth, the color of a festival, steam and music) BREAK a lattice of vines across the near plane of steaming pans; wooden decking, silvered by sun, resin-and-gravel permeable paving of trampled plaza; sparrows bathing in the runoff, a frog in the greywater pond, a butterfly on the pollinator strip of the market cat. the cooperative hall with its mural strings of light to the horizon. BREAK solar film catching the late sun, sun through dew on leaf glass, the shine of a well-oiled bicycle chain, the sparkle of resin in new paving on every lantern. a scarf left on a cold bench, for the cold, a jar of saved bottle caps by the kiln, a bell for the community hall, rung twice, a flowering crack in the plaza tile, a mended kite with three different patches
