Art style: 3D Pixar. Father standing in the middle ground. Father is standing on floor in the middle ground in the foreground. Head facing away from camera. Eyes on coins in palm. Tipping coins into cupped palm then closing fist. Grim shame. Close-up at eye level, 9:16. Over-the-shoulder on palm and coins. Key light window left, cold dim evening. Focus: coins pouring into father's palm. Dominant palette: cold grey-blue, dim brown, muted grey. SPATIAL LOCK: he leans over the notebook on the bed. GAZE LOCK: Father head facing away from camera eyes on coins in palm. This is a single frozen instant (action start) — no motion blur, no action chained. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ FINAL STYLE ENFORCEMENT (this is the authoritative rendering directive — it overrides any style wording elsewhere in the prompt): Render this image in the following art style: Pixar-style 3D computer animation (Pixar / Disney feature-film look) — fully volumetric 3D rendering with rounded dimensional forms, soft subsurface-scattering skin, physically based materials, soft global illumination, warm cinematic key light, gentle depth of field, vibrant family-friendly colours. CRITICAL: EVERY element — characters, foliage, trees, animals, water, sky, props and the entire environment — must be rendered as polished 3D CGI with real depth and form. This is NOT flat 2D illustration, NOT a watercolour or storybook painting, NOT cel-shaded anime. Every surface, skin, fabric, material, and environmental element must be rendered in this idiom. WARDROBE LOCK — authoritative. Render each character in EXACTLY this outfit, matching their attached reference image. This OVERRIDES any clothing, fabric, texture or colour word describing a character anywhere else in this prompt — do NOT invent other garments: - Father: A man in his late thirties with a once-handsome face now tired and dimmed, hollow cheeks, several days of dark stubble, heavy shadowed eyes carrying guilt and fatigue. Short dark hair, slightly unkempt. He wears a particular worn jacket in faded olive-brown over a creased plain shirt, shabby but not ragged. His posture sags with shame; his hands tremble faintly. His energy is gentle yet broken, a loving father failing himself and those he loves. Soft low interior light picks out the stubble and the weariness in his eyes; cool dim background of a modest flat at evening.
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