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AI art "zetaで試しに画像を使ってみようかなと" featuring #zetaCollab

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zetaで試しに画像を使ってみようかなと

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Contest Entry

PixAI × zeta Original Character Creation Contest 2026 #zetaCollab

Published on Oct 30, 2026

怪異P

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1boy, solo, male witch, 17 years old, blue hair, yellow eyes, jitome, scornful stare, half-closed eyes, looking at viewer, lowered eyelids, thin brows, sharp narrow eyes, pale skin, pointed hat, wide-brimmed pointed hat, silver buckle, wizard robe, deep navy velvet robe, wide sleeves, brown leather satchel, crossbody strap, holding wand, gnarled wooden wand, outstretched arm, from below, cowboy shot, dutch angle, head tilt, tilted head, standing, wind, fluttering clothes, serious, dark atmosphere, The camera looks up at him from below at a slight dutch tilt, a cowboy shot framing him from mid-thigh to the tip of his hat, so the whole upper half of the frame is filled with the underside of the wide brim and the robe hanging open against dark air. He is a lean seventeen-year-old boy, and his hair is a deep cobalt blue, cut in uneven choppy layers that hang over his brow and fan out to one side in the updraft; the wind pushes it across his forehead so a few strands cross the bridge of his nose. The hat sits tilted low over his head, its broad brim pressing down toward the camera, one side pinned up by a plain silver buckle that catches a cold hard highlight. His eyes are yellow, a flat sulfur yellow with no warmth in the iris, and his lids rest halfway down over them; the upper lash line cuts straight across each eye and the lower lid is faintly drawn up, so the gaze comes out level, unimpressed and slightly hostile, aimed directly into the lens. His brows are thin and level, one lifted a bare millimetre higher than the other; his mouth is a flat closed line with the lower lip pushed slightly forward, and his chin is tipped down while his eyes stay up under the lashes, which is what gives the stare its contempt. His right arm is raised out to his side with the wide sleeve sliding back off the wrist, and his fingers loosely grip a gnarled oak wand, its knotty shaft angled up toward the upper corner of the frame; his left hand is hooked in the satchel strap where it crosses his chest, fingers curled over the worn brown leather, and his weight sits on his back leg with the front hip pushed forward. The robe is deep navy velvet, its nap going dark where it turns away from the light and blooming soft and matte where it faces it, silver-grey piping down the front edges, and the wide sleeve hangs in heavy folds that swing back toward the camera in the wind; under it a plain dark tunic shows at the collar, throat bare, nothing at the neck. The satchel hangs against his left hip, its flap buckled and its corner scuffed pale with wear. Behind him there is nothing but a deep blue-black void, and a single cold source sits low and behind him to the left, so his cheek and jaw pick up a thin rim of light, the inside of the hat brim falls into total darkness, and a long shadow drops down the front of the robe toward the camera. The palette is cobalt, navy velvet, sulfur yellow and a single worn-leather brown. Still, cutting, quietly superior.

zetaで試しに画像を使ってみようかなと

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