A loom holds its pattern in the warp: threads set once, under tension, before any weaving begins. A character kept on a loom card is held the same way. Redescribed at every job, she is re-threaded by mood each time — a hairstyle drifts, a signature detail slips out of the pattern — and by the ninth frame the cloth shows two similar women instead of one. Written once and hung on the frame, the card simply stays threaded.
The card holds five threads in fixed order. Age — a plain number, and here a mature one. Hair — colour, length and one habitual style. Build — two or three words, no more. Face — one or two details that endure every crop. Signature — the detail that survives even a tight frame. Everything else is the weft of the day: outfit, corner, hour, light — woven through the warp, changed at every sitting, never confused with it.
The routine is plain. Paste the card, word for word, at the head of every prompt. Generate at the standard cost of 6 credits, keep the best third, and spend on repairs, swaps and upscales only after judging — judged against the card on the frame, not against the previous frame, which may itself have drifted off the warp.
A loom cannot hold a pattern that was never set. Set hers once, in writing, and the cloth of a whole series comes off the frame as one woman.