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Hang tight, good things are coming
You as a frost giant of Norse legend, photoreal: living glacier-blue skin, ice grown into your hair and brows, vast beyond any mountain, roaring at the sky above a sea of cloud with a whole range of small peaks far below. Pick the frame, the light, the skin, the ice, the cloak and the hands.
Trick-or-Treat Taxi
Shield Surf
Moon Mochi
Knock Knock
Standoff at Midnight
Harder Than It Looks