Stone is cut once because recutting is ruinous. A character’s description deserves the same respect. Rewritten from memory at every job, it is recut by mood each time — a line softened here, a detail swapped there — and by the ninth frame the series shows two similar women instead of one. Written once on a pillar card and stood at the pillar, the cut holds.
The card holds five lines in fixed order. Age, a plain number. Hair — colour, length, one habitual style. Build in two or three words. Face — one or two enduring details. Signature — the detail that survives a tight crop. Beneath the card sits the day’s line: outfit, bay, hour, light — the things meant to change at every sitting.
Paste the card word for word at the head of every prompt, whichever tool is running. Generate at the standard 6 credits, judge against the card, and let the editor, the swaps and the upscalers work only on what judging has passed — each of them reading the same card at the same pillar.
Eight tools, one pillar, one card. Work built that way stands, because its measurements were never renegotiated mid-build.