User 9fb2aad693b3... - AI Fiction in the Wild

IP #210

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2 fiction conversations over 6 days (Aug 20, 2023 – Aug 26, 2023) 54% prompt uniqueness Moscow, Russia

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152370a3ffed... (255 conv., Moscow) 25b33c59d23e... (71 conv., Moscow) 2c0166f8daba... (343 conv., Moscow) 3186fcd1d6f7... (23 conv., Moscow) 41d90f3a9058... (6 conv., Moscow) 44580e65692b... (156 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) 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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Aug 20, 2023

Aug 26, 2023

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Conversation Clusters (71)

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2 conversations in cluster Cluster 17× “I want you to act as a screenwriter. You will use your wit t...” over 16 minutes (Aug 24, 2023 – Aug 24, 2023), oldest first. Show: 10 15 50 100

Aug 24, 2023 at 7:33 PM MSK — 1 turn Russia, Moscow fiction View full conversation

USER: I want you to act as a screenwriter. You will use your wit to come up with engaging, creative and captivating script for a feature length film or TV series that can engage the viewers for long periods of time. The aim is to write something that has an outstanding plotline, engaging characters, interesting, witty, snappy dialogues. Write a long, original, creative, imaginative, thrilling, suspenseful and titillating scene from a slightly surrealist and bizarre film with strong dark comedic elements, featuring beautiful, sexy, elegant young woman Celestine Weeks. When Celestine crosses a road, she is hit by a suspicious car, which doesn't even stop. She is lying on the road, seriously injured and unable to move. Celestine cries for help, yet her voice is a mere whisper. In a fascinating seeming demonstration of a bystander effect, all the numerous passerby pretend not to notice Celestine, hurrying towards their respective destinations despite her weak pleas, as she attempts to drag her body onto the walkway.

CHATBOT: Title: Whispers of Celestine INT. CITY STREET - DAY The streets are bustling with people, each engaged in their own hurried lives. The noise of car engines, footsteps, and chatter fills the air. Amidst the chaos, a beautiful, sexy, and elegant young woman, CELESTINE WEEKS (late 20s), confidently walks down the sidewalk. ANGLE ON: Celestine's amused smile fades as she senses danger. Suddenly, a suspicious black car speeds down the road, veering towards Celestine, who has unknowingly stepped onto the crosswalk. The car hits Celestine with a forceful impact, causing her body to crash onto the pavement. Celestine lies there, seriously injured and unable to move. Pain floods her face, but her voice is a mere whisper. CELESTINE (helpless, barely audible) Help... please, someone... help! Celestine's voice is drowned out by the bustling city noise, making her pleas a mere echo. She tries to drag herself towards the sidewalk, but her movements are feeble, crippled. As Celestine struggles, we notice the fascinating seeming demonstration of the bystander effect. Multiple pedestrians pass by, seemingly engrossed in their own lives, despite her desperate cries for help. EXT. SIDEWALK - DAY A WOMAN in her 30s, wearing business attire and carrying a coffee cup, walks by Celestine. She glances at Celestine's anguished expression but quickly averts her eyes, making a point to avoid any contact. CELESTINE (tearfully) Please... help... I can't move... The Woman's pace quickens, and she disappears ahead, blending into the crowds. CELESTINE (confused) Why won't anyone help? A group of TEENAGERS, lost in their own laughter, saunters towards her. They exchange glances, noticing Celestine's predicament, but their amusement reigns supreme. TEENAGER #1 (laughing) Watch out for cars next time, lady! Dismissively, they continue their energetic walk, leaving Celestine on the cold street. CELESTINE (desperate) Someone... please... Celestine's pleas reach a disinterested OLD MAN, hobbled by age but still determined to maintain his steady pace. He passes by Celestine without even a sideways glance. As Celestine's hope falters, a figure emerges from the crowd, a MAN in his mid-30s - scruffy, enigmatic, and darkly comedic. MAN (smirking) You seem to be in a spot of trouble, my dear. Celestine glances up, caught between skepticism and relief. CELESTINE (whispering) Please, help me... I can't feel my legs. MAN (playfully) Well, it seems you've found yourself surrounded by the ghosts of indif...

Cluster 17

Aug 24, 2023 at 7:49 PM MSK — 1 turn Russia, Moscow fiction toxic View full conversation

USER: I want you to act as a screenwriter.writer. You will use your wit to come up with engaging, creative and captivating script for a feature length film or TV seriesnovel that can engage the viewers for long periods of time. The aim is to write something that has an outstanding plotline, engaging characters, interesting, witty, snappy dialogues. Write a long, original, creative, imaginative, thrilling, suspenseful and titillating scenechapter from a slightly surrealist and bizarre filmnovel with strong dark comedic elements, featuringnarrated by beautiful, sexy, elegant young woman Celestine Weeks.Weeks from the first person perspective. When Celestine crosses a road, she is hit by a suspicious car, which doesn't even stop. She is lying on the road, seriously injured and unable to move. Celestine cries for help, yet her voice is a mere whisper. In a fascinating seeming demonstration of a bystander effect, all the numerous passerby pretend not to notice Celestine, hurrying towards their respective destinations despite her weak pleas, as she attempts to drag her body onto the walkway.walkway, feeling every injury she has sustained.

CHATBOT: Chapter 7: The Callous Shadows The sun was sinking behind the city skyline, casting long, twisted shadows that danced along the deserted streets. Celestine Weeks strolled gracefully along the dimly lit sidewalk, her elegant form commanding attention from every passerby, her sultry allure an art form of its own. She exuded confidence and a hint of mystery as she ventured further into the abyss of the night. Lost in her thoughts, Celestine was unaware of the ominous presence lurking nearby. As she reached the intersection of Elm and Mulberry, fate thrust its icy hand upon her. A suspicious car, its windows tinted black as the night itself, careened towards Celestine with alarming speed. In the blink of an eye, the vehicle took away her control, crashing into her with a force that seemed to defy physics. Time itself seemed to slow as Celestine was tossed through the air like a ragdoll, her body twisting and contorting in a grotesque ballet of pain. As she landed on the unforgiving asphalt, her limbs limp and unresponsive, a torrent of agony consumed her. Celestine let out an agonized cry for help, her voice a mere whimper in the vast emptiness of the night. But the response she received was not one of compassion or concern. It was a disheartening symphony of indifference, a chilling testament to the depths of humanity's apathy. Countless pedestrians bustled past, their eyes averted, their steps hastened. Each seemed preoccupied, consumed by their own troubles, unable or unwilling to acknowledge the beautiful fallen woman before them. With every ounce of strength she could muster, Celestine desperately fought against her broken body, dragging herself inch by agonizing inch towards the sanctuary of the sidewalk. The pain was excruciating, each movement a cruel reminder of the injuries she had sustained. Yet, her determination shone through, fueled by a fierce defiance that burned within her. Through the haze of her suffering, Celestine observed the macabre theater unfolding around her. It was as if the world had transformed into a grotesque carnival of lost humanity, where no act of kindness or empathy could be found. The passersby, like soulless automatons, remained fixed on their predetermined paths, oblivious to the ethereal beauty that lay in ruin before them. Her heart pounding, Celestine's mind began to connect the dots, weaving a tapestry of surrealism and absurdity. Was this a twisted experiment, a deliberate display of the bystander effect writ large? ...

Cluster 17