This firſt, whom by his careleſſe ſlovenly gate, at firſt ſight, I imagined to be a Poet, is a waſte good and an unthrift, that he is born to make the taverns rich, and himſelfe a begger[…]
As for the facial stuff, I just didn't have the time to do a really good facial rig and just worked with the one I had, which was insufficiently flexible to accomplish what needed to be done.
Soon as the bending Scythe, And Sickle keen, have shear'd the golden Grain, Array'd in all the Equipage of Death, Forth the stern Sportsman stalks
The wind that sets the yellowed grass ashiver ’neath the Sun.
アカウントを持っていませんか？ 新規登録
アカウントを持っていますか？ ログイン
DiQt（ディクト）
無料
★★★★★★★★★★
