User 8bbb616c245b... - AI Fiction in the Wild

Estimated User #217 (2 IP addresses)

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1 fiction conversations over 14 days (Nov 27, 2023 – Dec 12, 2023) 90% prompt uniqueness Texas, United States

Estimated User Group (2 IP addresses)

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An IP address relates to the location of a user's computer or device, and a single person may have multiple IP addresses if they use different locations or networks. These IP addresses are grouped because the average embedding of each IP address's first turns (computed with all-MiniLM-L6-v2 sentence-transformer) has cosine similarity ≥ 0.85 and they share the same state (Texas). Groups are merged transitively—if A matches B and B matches C, all three are grouped even if A and C are below 0.85.

229826d2f222... View as IP →

14 conversations

Sample prompts:

Write a story about the following in the first person from my perspective. I'm a young guy in college. I'm visiting home. My little brother (a douchy high schooler) finds a magic wand and accidentally...

Write a story in the first person from my perspective about the following. I'm a skinny, pale, tall young guy with messy blond hair and an Americana taste in fashion. I want to get into an exclusive g...

Write this story in the first person from my perspective. I'm a young man (out of college) who works at an agency and dresses Americana. My CEO's douchy, rich kid, frat boy son (in college) is visitin...

Write a story about the following. I'm a young man with an Americana aesthetic. I'm skinny, have hair, no facial hair. My friend's chubby, bald, bearded, conservative boyfriend just broke up with her ...

I'm a young male secret agent. Write a story about me on a mission that involves me donning multiple disguises stolen from real people

8bbb616c245b... primary View as IP →

55 conversations

Sample prompts:

Write the following story. I'm an indie guy in college. My chemistry professor is guiding an experiment. He has me come to the front of the class to help him. Something goes wrong and we both pass out...

Write the following story. I'm a guy in college with an indie look. My roommate is a nerd and is working on a class project with his reluctant lab partner, a frat boy. The frat boy doesn't want to be ...

Write the following story. I'm a young man. There's a cowboy movie with a famous actor shooting in my town. I sneak on stage by sneaking on set, stealing a costume and wig and makeup, and getting on s...

Write the following story. I'm a guy in college with a skater aesthetic. My nerdy roommate designs a "normal" ray and accidentally shoots me with it. What happens to me, how do I change, how do I feel...

Write the following story. I'm a teenage boy in high school with a dark skater style. My friend invents a "normal" ray and points it at me and shoots it. What happens to me, how do I change, what is m...

Pairwise cosine similarities (1 pairs)

IP A	IP B	Similarity
`229826d2f222...`	`8bbb616c245b...`	0.926

Activity Timeline ▶

Nov 27, 2023

Dec 12, 2023

All conversations

Conversation Clusters (62)

TF-IDF Sentence ▼

1 conversation in cluster Cluster 7× “Write the following story. I'm a college guy at a Renaissanc...” over less than a minute (Dec 2, 2023 – Dec 2, 2023), oldest first. Show: 10 15 50 100

Dec 2, 2023 at 2:30 AM CST — 3 turns United States, Texas fiction View full conversation

USER: Write the following story. I'm a college guy at a Renaissance fair. I'm with my friends who all dressed up. I did not. I have a rugged look and I'm tall. One of my male friends is dressed as a prince. There's a costume contest and everyone wants him to enter. He's too nervous and asks me to enter wearing his costume instead. I oblige and put on his costume, wig, etc. it's a little short and thought on me. I'm very uncomfortable with all of the attention it gives me

CHATBOT: Once upon a time, on an unexpectedly sunny weekend, I found myself surrounded by jesters and knights, wandering minstrels, and fair maidens at the local Renaissance fair. The grounds thrummed with the sound of lutes and the aroma of roasting turkey legs filled the air. My friends, all garbed in period-appropriate attire--ruffles, corsets, and velvet galore--fitted right in. And then there was me, the one holdout in jeans and a well-worn leather jacket, looking more like a time traveler who'd seriously miscalculated his destination. Yet there was a certain charm about the whole spectacle. My buddy Jared, as regal as they come, was decked out in the full finery of a storybook prince. He straightened his ornate cape with nervous hands, glancing toward the raised platform where a costume contest was about to begin. The rest of the gang nudged Jared toward it, their encouragements tinkling like bells. "You'll take the crown easily, man," someone urged, to collective laughter since we were talking about a literal, albeit plastic, golden crown. Jared's face adopted the hue of a ripe tomato. "I don't know guys, I can't. What if I mess up?" There was a pause; the juggler nearby seemed to throw his pins higher in anticipation of what was to come. With the collective disappointment rising, Jared's eyes landed on me with a mix of desperation and hope. "You do it! Mark, you must!" he pleaded, thrusting his scepter in my direction. I blinked at my reflection in the shiny orb atop the staff. Me? The prince? "It'll be a riot," someone chimed in, seconding the motion. Before I knew it, a conspiracy of hands was ushering me behind a merchant's stall for a swift change of costume. Off came Jared's princely raiment. The fine doublet was a pristine canvas of silks and jewels that looked as though it was more accustomed to signing decrees than drinking ale. The wig, a coiffed affair with curls that seemed to know some secret about gravity, was reluctantly plopped onto my head. The doublet strangled my broad shoulders, the hose stretched like a miser's smile across my thighs. My usual confident stride was hampered by the shortness of the outfit, tightening with every move and threatening to split seams if I so much as breathed too deeply. I tugged at the costume, painfully aware of every eye upon the makeshift prince. When I stepped onto the platform, the crowd erupted into applause and cheers. I felt my ears burn, but rallied with an admittedly awkward bow that drew a mix of ch...

USER: Describe each element of the costume in detail on me. Describe my old outfit on Jared in detail. I try to return the costume to Jared but he tells me to keep it on as he already saw a different one in a stall he wanted to go try on. I reluctantly keep it on.

CHATBOT: As I stood awkwardly in Jared's prince costume, it felt like the very threads were woven with a touch of discomfort specifically tailored for me. The doublet, an elaborate piece of sartorial art, was crafted from luxurious blue velvet, the shade of which whispered secrets of midnight escapades in royal gardens. Delicate golden thread formed ornate patterns and embroidered crests across the chest, denoting imaginary lineage. The sleeves, trimmed with pearls and tiny gemstones, glittered with affluence, catching the light with my every reluctant gesture. The pants--or hose--were a deep burgundy, a testament to the bold colors favored by nobility in Renaissance times. They clung to my legs in a mildly suffocating embrace, highlighting muscles that were more used to gym shorts than courtly attire. The silhouette they created was comically accentuated by the shortness of the doublet, which barely met the waistband, hinting at a belly unused to the confinements of royal life. Adorning my head and further adding to my dismay was the wig. A cascade of synthetic golden locks, its curls were impeccably styled, but sat atop my head in a precarious balance, threatening to topple with any sudden movement. To complete the caricature of regency that I had become, faux leather boots reached up to my knees, although on me, they strained against calves not accustomed to being so encased. Beside me, Jared was an amusing reversal in my discarded outfit. My rugged leather jacket hung loose on his slightly less broad frame, the cuffs reaching just past his wrists instead of stopping short as was their usual style on my longer arms. The worn denim of my jeans contrasted his typically princely demeanor, bunching up around his ankles where my taller stature would normally stretch them taut. My sturdy boots, now on his feet, lacked the usual firm stride they were accustomed to, instead offering him an uncertain grounding in this world of corsets and codpieces. Even my casual graphic tee seemed to sag with a sense of longing for its absent owner, the print across the front now displaying a rock band's emblem instead of a royal coat of arms. Upon attempting to return the princely garb to Jared, he shook his head with an amused grin, "No, no, keep it! It suits you in a comically charming way. Besides," he said, eyeing a neighboring stall adorned with colorful attire, "I've spotted another costume I want to try on." Reluctantly, I nodded, resigning myself to the role fate and friendshi...

Cluster 7