Series drift is usually blamed on the model. Read the prompts instead. The character is described from memory each time, and memory edits as it goes: “long dark hair” in one month becomes “flowing dark hair” the next, and the audience watches a stranger take over the feed. The repair is clerical, and this directory is built on it. Write the woman down once, on a card you paste rather than retype.
Five fields, in order
A working card holds five things. Age — a number, always 25 or over. Hair — colour, length, one usual style. Build — two or three words, no more. Face — one or two details that endure. Distinguishing mark — the chain, the mole, the detail that survives a crop. Everything else is a scene line: dress, room, light, pose. Scene lines are meant to change. Fields are not.
Two habits keep the card healthy. Fields are stated plainly and positively — “sleek low ponytail tied with a black satin ribbon” survives generation, while “beautiful hair” is re-interpreted at every attempt. And the card is versioned. When the character is deliberately changed — a new cut, a new mark — the new text is saved as version two, with a date, so an old set can still be remade exactly as it was filed.
Working from the card
Production then becomes quiet. Pair the card with scene lines that share one room and one light, and make the set at the standard model’s 6-credit price. Keep the best third. Spend on corrections, swaps and upscales only after the sort. When a frame returns off character, the cause is almost always visible in the filing: a scene line contradicted a field, or a field was too vague to hold. Both are fixed on the card, not in settings.
What a card cannot do
It cannot hold a woman who was never decided. If the fields are adjectives — lovely, striking, perfect — no system will keep her. Decide her on paper first. The card is not where the imagination happens. It is where the imagination is kept.