Seedance 2.5 戴丝袜面罩的劫匪面对面无表情的柜员提示词

Using @ image1 as the bank robber and @ image2 as the teller. A cinematic sequence, every shot from a fixed tripod position with no camera movement, joined by quick hard cuts. The only zooms in the entire sequence are the two crash zooms on the teller described below. The setting is a bright, polished bank lobby with a long teller counter and a thick pane of protective glass separating the lobby from the teller’s side. 0-4s: A wide, static side-on establishing shot that shows the whole layout. On the lobby side, the heavyset robber in an orange knit vest, black turtleneck, and black cargo pants stands directly in front of the teller window, a duffel bag at his feet and a pistol raised toward the glass. A sheer tan stocking is pulled tight over his head and knotted on top, his face plainly visible and squashed through the nylon. Behind the glass, the older teller in a mustard cardigan with a gray beehive and purple cat-eye glasses on a beaded chain sits at her desk, calmly holding a teacup. Behind the robber, the customers already lie flat on the marble floor with their hands over their heads, a woman sobs quietly, and the security guard stands with both hands raised, sweating and wide-eyed. 4-7s: Quick cut to a front-facing medium close-up of the robber, shot from the teller’s side of the glass so he looks straight into the lens. The terrified customers on the floor are visible behind him. He shouts, “HURRY UP! I haven't got all day!” 7-10s: Quick cut to a front-facing medium close-up of the teller, shot from the lobby side through the glass so she looks straight into the lens, completely deadpan. She sips her tea, her eyes never leaving the lens, and turns a page of her magazine. 10-12s: Quick cut back to the robber, front-facing, as he slaps the duffel bag against the glass slot and snarls, “Give me all the money! Now!” 12-17s: Quick cut to the teller, front-facing, in the same medium close-up, holding a calm stare. She lowers her teacup, and a subtle smirk forms. First crash zoom: a sudden crash zoom, the lens snaps in on her face in under half a second, the camera itself stays completely still, and the zoom stops hard with a slight shake in a tight close-up of her eyes and smile. She lets out a dry little chuckle and says, “You do realize I can see your face... right?” The shot holds on her face for a beat. 17-20s: Quick cut to a static close-up of the robber, front-facing, the stocking stretched flat across his nose and cheeks, the knot on top twitching. He snarls, “Oh shut the phuck up, give me the damn money!” 20-24s: Quick cut to a static front-facing medium shot of the teller at her desk, shot through the glass from the lobby side, her face calm and her teacup in one hand, her other hand resting on the desk beside a large unmarked red button. Second crash zoom: a sudden crash zoom, the lens snaps in on the red button in under half a second, the camera itself stays completely still, and the zoom stops hard with a slight shake as her finger presses it down with one bored tap. The shot holds on the pressed button for a beat. Quick cut to a static front-facing shot of her face as she calmly sips her tea. 24-27s: Quick cut to the wide side-on establishing angle as every door of the lobby bursts open and police officers storm in from all sides, converging on the robber with weapons drawn, red and blue light flooding through the windows. The customers cover their heads tighter and the guard drops to his knees. The robber freezes, hands rising slowly. 27-30s: Quick cut to a static front-facing close-up of the robber, stocking-covered face frozen, the pistol clattering to the floor. He mutters, defeated, “...Seriously?” Final quick cut to the teller, front-facing through the glass, raising her teacup with a polite little smile as she says, “Have a nice day.” [SOUND] Soft lobby ambience, a teacup clinking on its saucer, magazine pages turning, a woman’s quiet sobbing and a man’s whimpering from the floor, the robber’s muffled shouts through the nylon and glass, a quick lens-motor whir at each crash zoom, her dry chuckle, a sharp click as the red button is pressed, a distant siren growing to a wail, the crash of doors bursting open, officers’ boots stomping and shouting, the pistol clattering on marble.