Nov 3, 2026

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アヴニール。

Contest Entry

PixAI × zeta Original Character Creation Contest 2026

#Male #sitting #Boots #Ponytail #solo #Fingerless gloves #orange hair #Multicolored hair #Japanese sword #Sheath #Sheathed #green eyes #Boy #Architecture #Black gloves #Closed mouth #Black Pants

Published on Nov 3, 2026

宵星@CR esonant

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1boy, solo, male, young adult, orange hair, long hair, ponytail, hair tied back, emerald green eyes, black jacket, black gloves, fingerless gloves, no armor, cloth only, swordsman, sword at hip, sitting, sitting on stairs, leaning forward, elbows on knees, from below, dutch angle, looking to the side, light smile, half-closed eyes, fantasy, stone staircase, adventurer From a low dutch angle at the foot of the steps, tilting the horizontals of the stone, the young man sits three treads up with his weight pitched forward: elbows planted on his knees, gloved hands loosely interlaced between them, spine curved so his shoulders round over his chest. His long orange hair is gathered at the back of his skull in a high ponytail, the tie hidden by the fall of it, and the tail drops over his right shoulder and hangs loose in front of the black jacket's collar; a few strands have escaped the binding and stick to his temple. His emerald eyes are turned off to the left of frame, toward something lower than his line of sight, not to the viewer, the lids dropped halfway and one brow lifted a fraction above the other, the corner of his mouth pulled slightly up on one side only. Under his thighs the stone steps are cool dark grey, worn concave in the middle of each tread with a hairline crack running along one edge; his left boot is braced flat on the tread below, his right heel hooked back against the riser for balance, knee higher than hip. The black jacket is unzipped at the throat, a bare dark collar of cloth with nothing at his neck and no plate, no mail, no pauldron anywhere on him — the jacket's leather is the only thing between his body and the air, wrinkled and creased in the elbows, and a long sword in a plain scabbard lies across the tread beside his right thigh with the pommel just past his hip, crossguard and grip worn smooth at the touch points. Behind and below, a fantasy street recedes: a timbered wall to the left with a sagging awning, a lantern bracket, and further down a stone archway into a night market, its painted sign hanging crooked with the lettering illegible with distance. Amber light comes from the lantern bracket low at the left, striking the left side of his face and the underside of his jaw and rimming his ponytail in a thin warm line, leaving the right half of his face and the right side of every tread in cool blue-violet shade from a sky holding the last light; the lantern throws his hunched shadow down the steps in a long shape bent by each riser edge. The palette holds orange in his hair, black in his jacket and gloves, grey stone, and warm amber against cold violet shadow — nothing else enters. Quiet, unhurried.

アヴニール。

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