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p96bvbffh9@privaterelay.appleid.com

Published on Oct 24, 2026

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copyright: deltarune solo, 1boy, full body, hands in pockets, holding scythe, tongue out, fangs, heart, frills, gold trim, skull, spade (shape), club (shape), gloves, pointy ears, 18 years old, male but cute like a girl, short hair, slightly spiky hair, cream hair, light blue eyes, mint blue hoodie, mint blue pants, matching top and bottom, black cape, white boots, black pants, jester cap, pointy ears, colored skin, grey background, abandoned amusement park, deserted, from below, dutch angle, looking at viewer, one eye closed, grin, sharp teeth, holding weapon, scythe over shoulder, arms at sides, leaning back, weight on one leg, cape billowing, alone A low, tilted dutch-angle view from slightly below, the full body of one 18-year-old boy held in frame from the soles of his white boots to the tip of his jester cap, the ground he stands on a vast grey expanse of cracked concrete with the skeletal silhouette of an abandoned amusement park rising behind him -- a rusted ferris wheel with empty gondolas, a collapsed roller coaster spine, a dead carousel with peeling paint. The park is utterly deserted, no other figure anywhere, the grey background swallowing every ride into a flat haze so that the boy is the only warm shape in the frame. He is a small, cute boy, male but unmistakably girlish in build -- narrow shoulders, a soft round jaw, light blue eyes both large and bright under the shadow of his jester cap, the cap's three floppy points each tipped with a tiny bell that hangs still. His hair is cream-colored, short, and sticks up in small spiky tufts around the cap's band. His pointed ears poke out through the hair on both sides, bare and unobstructed. He wears a mint blue hoodie and matching mint blue pants that read as a single coordinated tracksuit, the fabric loose and comfortable. Over the hoodie, a black cape falls from his shoulders, edged with a thick band of gold trim that catches a dull sheen. A frilled collar sits at his throat, soft white ruffles layered with mint-blue trim. His hands are shoved deep into the hoodie's front pockets, the gloves hidden inside the fabric except for the wrists where the cuffs bunch, and his black pants disappear into tall white boots that lace up the front, the laces slightly loose. One big scythe rests against his right shoulder, the curved blade gleaming with a cold silver edge, its long handle gripped loosely by the gloved hand that is still tucked at an angle inside the pocket, the weapon leaning back over his shoulder at a diagonal. He leans his weight onto his left leg, right hip cocked out, a relaxed slouch in his spine that is playful rather than tired. His face is pure mischief: one eye squinted shut in a wink, the other wide and bright, his tongue stuck out at the viewer -- a pale pink curl past his lips -- and two small fangs peek over his lower lip, sharp and white. A small red heart floats near the shoulder of his cape, a solid cartoon shape with a soft shine, and two suit symbols -- a black spade and a black club -- are scattered across the cape's surface, flat and graphic, like printed patches. The grey light of the abandoned park falls on him from above, flat and diffuse, casting no hard shadows, and the cape's hem lifts slightly as if from a weak breeze that stirs the dust around his boots. The palette is strict: mint blue, cream, black, white, gold trim, and the flat grey of the dead park, with only the red heart as a small warm accent. Quietly eerie and effortlessly cute.

p96bvbffh9@privaterelay.appleid.com

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