User 44580e65692b... - AI Fiction in the Wild

IP #177

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1 fiction conversations over 13 days (Oct 6, 2023 – Oct 19, 2023) 61% prompt uniqueness Moscow, Russia

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These IP addresses have similar average prompt embeddings (cosine similarity ≥ 0.85, same state). View as estimated user →

152370a3ffed... (255 conv., Moscow) 25b33c59d23e... (71 conv., Moscow) 2c0166f8daba... (343 conv., Moscow) 3186fcd1d6f7... (23 conv., Moscow) 41d90f3a9058... (6 conv., Moscow) 4d2f2088e5a5... (53 conv., Moscow) 5c1d26e80570... (16 conv., Moscow) 68cd1231e329... (32 conv., Moscow) 7ffd82a431cb... (144 conv., Moscow) 80d33ea7c851... (5 conv., Moscow) 96d1c18c6bb8... (21 conv., Moscow) 9b7ebf049e11... (137 conv., Moscow) 9fb2aad693b3... (130 conv., Moscow) a2da078fff98... (28 conv., Moscow) b44db035ff1d... (192 conv., Moscow) b7ae3e566839... (26 conv., Moscow) c1f49ec710a9... (424 conv., Moscow) c65480c19768... (44 conv., Moscow) db3f4c72ca00... (31 conv., Moscow) f3b779af1005... (205 conv., Moscow) f7aa19059ef5... (73 conv., Moscow) fbbe4466ea19... (24 conv., Moscow) fe5166559b27... (53 conv., Moscow)

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Oct 6, 2023

Oct 19, 2023

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Conversation Clusters (95)

TF-IDF Sentence ▼

1 conversation in cluster Cluster 61× “I want you to act as a swriter. Clementine Labelle is beauti...” over less than a minute (Oct 11, 2023 – Oct 11, 2023), oldest first. Show: 10 15 50 100

Oct 11, 2023 at 12:38 PM MSK — 1 turn Russia, Moscow fiction View full conversation

USER: I want you to act as a swriter. Clementine Labelle is beautiful, elegant, haughty, arrogant, overconfident and snobbish young woman, rich and influential. Not only does she directly control properties and shares, Clementine also has an extensive connection network, allowing her to order various important figures around. About a year ago, Clementine suffered a serious accident. She has been undergoing prolonged and laborious recovery ever since, but hasn't been able to walk unassisted, requiring either leg braces with crutches or wheelchair. When Clementine was incapacitated, her opponents and competitors swiftly moved against her, taking over her market share, undermining her connection and trying to squeeze her out of business. While Clementine had loyal and reliable people who took over in her absence, they proved unable to put up proper defense. She has been trying to strike back at her opponents, but with meager success so far. Write long, original, interesting and imaginative scene, narrated by Clementine from the first person perspective, conveying her thoughts and feelings in vivid detail. In it, Clementine is at the back of her limousine, working tirelessly on her laptop. Lights of evening city pass by, melding into a yellow blur. As she arrives at one of her houses, her loyal assistants, chauffeur Ruben and bodyguard Mark hurry to open the door for her. Seeing how tired she must be from insisting on limping on her crutches all day, they prepare a wheelchair for her t...

CHATBOT: The evening skyline painted a vibrant tapestry outside the tinted windows of my luxurious limousine. Its lights flickered and danced, casting fleeting shadows upon my pristine facade. As the vehicle glided through the bustling city, I leaned forward, engrossed in my laptop's luminous screen, determined to salvage what remained of my empire. My slender fingers tapped tirelessly on the keyboard, weaving a web of intricate strategies and shrewd maneuvers. Every moment of seclusion within the confines of this opulent car was a precious respite, a sanctuary shielding me from the harsh reality that awaited outside. For within the borders of this vehicle, I was still the ruler of my dominion, my word an unyielding decree that sent ripples through the upper echelons of society. But beyond these polished windows, my adversaries plotted and schemed, eager to pounce upon the vulnerability my accident had exposed. As we arrived at one of my lavish residences, Ruben, my trusted chauffeur, and Mark, my loyal bodyguard, hastened to open the door for me. I could see the concern etched upon their faces as they anticipated the fatigue that burdened my body. Sympathy welled up in their eyes, evident in the wheelchair they had prepared for my transfer. But pride, stubbornness, and an unyielding determination surged within me, propelling me to reject their well-meaning gesture. "No," I firmly declared, my voice carrying a tone that brooked no argument. I refused to surrender to the trap my accident had ensnared me in. With a surge of willpower, I hoisted myself up, the weight of my burdens heavy upon my legs braced by unyielding metal. My long skirt flowed gracefully, concealing the struggle that strained my every movement. Step by painstaking step, I traversed the threshold, my crutches serving as fragile pillars of support. Inside the house, the familiar scent of elegance and prosperity enveloped me, mingling with the scent of ambition that lingered in the air. My journey continued with a determined gait, albeit an awkward one. Swinging my legs forward, I propelled myself forward, inch by arduous inch. Every movement sent a ripple of pain through my battered body, a reminder of the formidable blows fate had delivered. Reaching my bedroom, I willed my weary legs to whisk me toward the sanctuary of my bed. Collapsing onto the soft satin sheets, I shed the heavy layers that concealed both my physical and emotional burdens. The relief was palpable as I allowed my vulnerable form...

Cluster 61