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character: superman close-up, from below, dutch angle, 2boys, adult male, short black hair, sideburns, blue eyes, swollen shut eye, black eye, purple bruise, bruised face, blood on nose, bleeding nose, tears, crying, sobbing, open mouth, gritted teeth, sweat, blue bodysuit, teenage boy, 15 years old, handsome, muscular, loincloth, boxing gloves, red gloves, triumphant, arm raised, shouting, boxing ring, ropes, canvas, dragged, motion blur, looking at another, dramatic lighting, high contrast, harsh spotlight. The camera looks up from canvas level in a tight close-up on the beaten man's face, tilted a few degrees off level so the ring ropes cut diagonally across the upper frame. His short black hair is plastered flat with sweat, sideburns dark against bruised skin; his right eye is completely swollen shut, the lid puffed and waxy, the skin around it deep purple shading to black at the brow, while his left blue eye stays wide open, bloodshot, spilling a fat continuous tear that runs down over a split cheekbone toward his jaw. Blood from his nose is already smeared sideways across his upper lip and cheek by the drag, a fresh bright line still welling at one nostril. His mouth is open in a raw sob, teeth bared, chin wet. His blue bodysuit collar and shoulder are scuffed with canvas dust where his back and shoulder grind along the mat; his jaw is slack, head lolling to one side, one arm trailing loose, fingers skidding on the canvas, the other hand hooked uselessly near his own chest. Behind him and above, out of the same low angle, the young boxer stands over the drag line with his weight on his back leg and chest thrown open, one red-leather-gloved fist punched straight up, the other glove at his own hip against a bare waist wrapped in a leather loincloth; his torso is lean and cut, sweat sheening over his shoulders, his chin lifted and mouth open as he shouts, eyes fixed down on the beaten man at his feet rather than on the lens. His raised glove catches the full beam of the overhead ring lamp. Ropes recede behind them in taut horizontals; beyond the ropes the arena falls off into absolute dark, the single overhead lamp the only light, throwing hard top-down shadows into the swollen eye socket and a long shadow of the standing boy down across the canvas toward the fallen face. Colour is held to three notes: raw blood red and glove red, canvas off-white, and the bruised violet of the swollen lid. Exhausted, brutal.
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