User f3b779af1005... - AI Fiction in the Wild

IP #136

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1 fiction conversations over 5 days (Sep 26, 2023 – Oct 2, 2023) 43% 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) 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) 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) f7aa19059ef5... (73 conv., Moscow) fbbe4466ea19... (24 conv., Moscow) fe5166559b27... (53 conv., Moscow)

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Sep 26, 2023

Oct 2, 2023

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Conversation Clusters (88)

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1 conversation in cluster Cluster 62× “I want you to act as a writer. This somewhat bizarre and dis...” over less than a minute (Sep 28, 2023 – Sep 28, 2023), oldest first. Show: 10 15 50 100

Sep 28, 2023 at 4:55 PM MSK — 1 turn Russia, Moscow fiction toxic View full conversation

USER: I want you to act as a writer. This somewhat bizarre and disturbed novel features Solange Ancel, a beautiful, elegant, confident and assertive woman. Write long, original, imaginative, unusual and interesting chapter, narrated by Solange from the first person perspective, vividly and artistically describing her thoughts and feelings. It features the following events. Solange sustained multiple severe injuries in an accident. Her legs were horrifically mangled. The doctors kept saying they were trying to save them, yet kept amputating more and more, and now her left leg is just a short stump, while right leg is gone entirely, along with a part of her pelvis. As Solange lies in the ICU, with casts, bandaged, braces and tubes, yet conscious and aware, the doctors - Basil Bends, a brutish and imposing man with a terrible bedside manner, and his almost opposite, understanding and warm - perhaps too warm - Jerry Jefferies - are discussing plans for further treatment of Solange. Dr. Bends, nonchalantly and in a matter-of-fact manner proposes amputating Solange's left stump, since it suffers from nerve damage anyway, and using it to reconstruct right part of her pelvis. Hearing this discussing, Solange feels like a piece of meat. She feels desperate and frustrated, but is tired of showing her vulnerability. Instead, Solange makes several macabre and inappropriate jokes at the expense of herself and the doctors, trying to purposefully shock Dr. Jefferies and put Dr. Bends into his pla...

CHATBOT: Chapter 7: The Shadows of a Broken Body The sterile, monotonous hum of the ICU filled the air, blending harmoniously with the discordant symphony of pain that resonated within me. I lay there, surrounded by the remnants of my shattered existence. My once agile legs, the pillars of my confidence, were now nothing more than grotesque reminders of a former life. The doctors stood before me, their contrasting demeanors further highlighting the absurdity of my present reality. Dr. Basil Bends, a brute of a man with a bedside manner as cold as the surgical steel he wielded, towered over me. His imposing figure seemed to mirror the wickedness of the scalpel he commanded. Opposite him, Dr. Jerry Jefferies, a compassionate soul, radiated an almost overwhelming warmth that both comforted and unnerved me. His presence was like a flickering candle in the darkest corners of my despair. Their voices echoed through my shattered consciousness as they discussed my future. Dr. Bends, with his characteristic nonchalance, proposed to amputate my already damaged left stump and use it to rebuild the remnants of my pelvis. How casually he spoke of carving up a piece of me, as if I were simply a slab of meat awaiting his butcher's knife. A surge of anger awakened within me, overpowering the weariness in my soul. I refused to be relegated to a mere surgical experiment, a canvas for their depraved artistic pursuits. I was more than just a collection of flesh and bones; I was Solange Ancel, a force to be reckoned with, regardless of my broken state. With a wry smile on my lips, I decided it was time to reclaim my power. I would shock them, force them to see me as more than just a patient lying helpless in a sterile bed. In that tiny realm of the ICU, I could wield a weapon more potent than any scalpel: my sharp tongue and twisted sense of humor. "You know, doctors, I've always dreamed of being an abstract masterpiece," I mused, the corners of my lips stretching into a smirk. "Perhaps you could sculpt me into a living Picasso. I'm sure the art world would be thrilled by my avant-garde pelvis." A flicker of amusement danced in Dr. Bends' eyes, his gruff exterior momentarily softened. The challenge had been accepted, and I continued my reckless dialogue, fueled by desperation and a somewhat misplaced sense of control. "Toss in a few neon lights, and I'll be the life of every party," I quipped, casting a coquettish gaze at Dr. Jefferies. It was a deliberate flirtation, a cunning attempt...

Cluster 62