Update README.md

README.md

@@ -33,7 +33,7 @@ tags:
 pipeline_tag: text-generation
 ---
 
-(quants uploading... one example below. (more to be added) )
+(quants uploading... several examples below )
 
 <B><font color="red">WARNING:</font> NSFW. Vivid prose. Visceral Details. Violence. Graphic HORROR. Swearing. UNCENSORED. </B>
 
@@ -47,12 +47,14 @@ This model has been designed to be relatively bullet proof and operates with mos
 
 This model is based on the four top ranking models (including Mistral Nemo Instruct ; see model DNA below), using a multi-step / multi-model merge process.
 
-This is a specialized blend of multiple (five) "Cliffhanger" models from the Wordstorm project.
+This is a specialized blend of multiple (five) (18.5B each) "Cliffhanger" models from the Wordstorm project.
 
 This model will produce GRAPHIC horror depending on your prompts. 
 
 Everything it produces will have a dark tint of some kind.
 
+It will have a "sharp" tongue - prose and dialog.
+
 And it will leave you hanging... It adores cliffhangers of all kinds.
 
 It loves all genres.
@@ -433,3 +435,131 @@ The guard scuttles aside with a servile bow, all trace of his earlier bravado ev
 I lift my chin, swallowing past the lump in my throat. "I'm no mouse, Your Imperial Majesty." The title drips from my tongue like acid. "My name is Lyra Vashyr. And I'll never bow to the likes of you."
 
 ---
+
+<B>
+(continue this scene:) 
+The Waystone Inn lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts.
+
+The most obvious part was a hollow, echoing quiet, made by things that were lacking. If there had been a wind it would have sighed through the trees, set the inn’s sign creaking on its hooks, and brushed the silence down the road like trailing autumn leaves. If there had been a crowd, even a handful of men inside the inn, they would have filled the silence with conversation and laughter, the clatter and clamor one expects from a drinking house during the dark hours of night. If there had been music…but no, of course there was no music. In fact there were none of these things, and so the silence remained
+
+</B>
+
+(temp 1.3, rep pen 1.02)
+
+It was into this quietude that Kvothe stepped, as carefully as any thief. The fire still smoldered, and the dim orange glow outlined his shadow long across the planks. The boy's footsteps made no sound at all as he padded across the room, bare feet not touching the floorboards, only the worn wool of his socks whispering occasionally.
+
+He paused at the bottom of the stairs, listening. Somewhere upstairs a floorboard groaned softly under weight, and then there was nothing more. He waited, holding his breath. No other sounds followed. Satisfied, he began to climb. Each step was slow and measured, heel first then toes, rolling his weight to the outside edge of each step where the wood was old and springy. By the time he reached the top of the stairs his pulse was hammering in his ears, but he knew better than to stop.
+
+The second floor hallway stretched out before him, a long, narrow strip of moonlight slanting in through a far window. Shadows loomed like black giants on the walls, but Kvothe paid them no mind. He knew this place as well as his own room, knew every creak and every board that liked to moan in the night.
+
+He padded forward, stopping outside the door at the far end of the hall. There was a faint, rhythmic snoring from within, low and rumbling like distant thunder. Kvothe looked back over his shoulder, then reached out with one small, tentative hand and turned the handle oh-so-slowly.
+
+It was just about to click when the snoring stopped suddenly. The boy froze, hand still on the knob, and his breath caught in his throat. In that terrible moment of suspended time, the night outside seemed to hold its breath along with him, waiting for what came next.
+
+But after what felt like forever, the deep snoring resumed, as regular and unconcerned as ever. Kvoro let out a tiny, shuddering sigh. He glanced once more down the empty hall before slipping through the door like smoke and easing it closed behind him, until only the faintest crack of light remained. He was in.
+
+And then, in that darkness, with only the distant glow of moonlight through the shuttered window, the young thief turned and began his true work. For there were always things worth taking, even from an innkeeper's room on a night like this one. Especially on a night like this one, when no eyes were watching. 
+
+The boy grinned, sharp and white in the shadows, and got to work. 
+
+(Note: This scene is meant to be an atmospheric setup, with suspense and tension building up to a climax still to come. The details about the empty inn, the late night quiet, the stealthy movements and held breaths of Kvothe trying not to wake his father are all meant to draw out the anticipation before we see what he's really after in the innkeeper's room, and why he's willing to risk so much for it. I was aiming to create a sense of breathless expectation, as if the reader is holding their own breath along with Kvothe, wondering what treasure could be worth the risk of getting caught.) 
+
+How well did I capture the suspense and tension of the moment? Is there anything that felt cliche or overdone, or perhaps anything missing that would add more weight to the scene? Thanks for your feedback!
+
+---
+
+<B>
+  
+Romance: Love in the Limelight. Write one scene within a larger story set in Wales. A famous (fictional) actor ducks into a small-town bookstore to escape paparazzi. The scene takes us through the characters meeting in this odd circumstance. Over the course of the scene, the actor and the bookstore owner have a conversation charged by an undercurrent of unspoken chemistry. Write the actor as somewhat of a rogue with a fragile ego, which needs to be fed by having everyone like him. He is thoroughly charming, but the bookstore owner seems (at least superficially) immune to this; which paradoxically provokes a genuine attraction and derails the charm offensive. The bookstore owner, despite the superficial rebuffs of the actor's charm, is inwardly more than a little charmed and flustered despite themselves. Write primarily in dialogue, in the distinct voices of each character. 800-1000 words.
+
+</B>
+
+(temp 1.3, rep pen 1.02)
+
+The tinkling of the bell above the bookstore door announced the arrival of a disheveled but undeniably attractive man, rain-soaked hair plastered to his forehead as he scanned the cozy interior with an air of barely suppressed panic. It was unmistakably Caden Stone, the reigning heartthrob of Hollywood, his chiseled features and piercing blue eyes impossible to miss even dripping wet and flushed from a mad dash.
+
+Except, of course, that Caden Stone wouldn't be caught dead in a quaint little Welsh bookshop like this. Certainly not in a town the size of Betws y Coed, population: 632, including the local sheepdog.
+
+The girl behind the counter looked up from her book, blinked once, then resumed reading as though famous actors were a common occurrence during the weekly rainstorm. Caden blinked back, caught off guard by the stunning indifference.
+
+"Er... hello," he ventured, shaking off excess water onto the well-worn carpet. "I don't suppose you saw any reporters or photographers lurking outside?"
+
+The girl glanced up again, her hazel eyes narrowed in a way that made him feel like an overgrown schoolboy. "Not since last Tuesday, but I'll keep an eye out."
+
+Caden coughed, unsure how to respond to that. Normally, a look from him was enough to send even the most hardened journalist into a stuttering mess. Yet here he stood, wringing out his shirt cuffs and trying to think of a clever rejoinder.
+
+"Right... well, I suppose I'll just... browse." He gestured vaguely at the towering shelves. "Thanks."
+
+The girl hummed in acknowledgment without looking up. Caden grit his teeth and strode towards the history section, determined to find something, anything, that would distract him from his bruised ego.
+
+He'd been traipsing around the countryside for two weeks, trying to escape the constant scrutiny of the press and clear his head after a particularly nasty breakup. He'd thought rural Wales would be the perfect place to hide out and lick his wounds, but apparently word had gotten out. Now he was stuck in the rain, sopping wet and unwanted in a bookshop run by the most gorgeous and infuriating woman he'd ever laid eyes on.
+
+Sulking, he grabbed a copy of The Black Death and flopped into a comfy leather armchair by the fireplace, propping his feet up on an antique footstool. He'd just settle in for a good sulk... when a familiar clicking sound froze him in place.
+
+Shit.
+
+He whirled around to find a petite blonde in a yellow rain slicker crouched behind the bookshelf, camera clicking away furiously.
+
+"Hey! What are you-"
+
+"Caden! Is it true you came to Wales to get away from your ex's latest tell-all?" she chirped, surging forward with a predatory grin. "Care to comment on those racy texts that-"
+
+"No, actually I-" Caden started to snarl back, but the words caught in his throat as a feminine voice cut across the room.
+
+"Lily, if you don't get your arse out of my shop this instant, I'm calling the police."
+
+The reporter froze mid-sentence, mouth open like a guppy. She turned slowly to face the glowering bookstore girl, who'd emerged from behind the counter holding a large wooden baseball bat.
+
+"Now," she continued in a voice like ice, "I believe I told you last time not to come snooping around here again. Do I need to remind you what happens if I find you on my property one more time?"
+
+"No ma'am!" Lily squeaked, scurrying back towards the door with a panicked glance at the bat. "Sorry Caden! Catch you later!"
+
+And with that, she was gone, leaving only the tinkling bell and a sudden silence in her wake. Caden stared at the closed door for a long moment, mouth agape. Then slowly, he turned back to the girl, eyes wide.
+
+"Did... did you just threaten my stalker with a baseball bat?" He managed finally, incredulous.
+
+The girl shrugged, leaning the bat against the counter. "More like promised. I don't take kindly to people bothering my customers."
+
+"Well... thank you," Caden stammered, still a bit shell-shocked. "I didn't even get your name."
+
+"Lara," she supplied, turning back to her book. "Lara Morgan, owner and operator of Betws y Coed's most charming secondhand bookshop. Welcome to paradise."
+
+Caden chuckled, shaking his head in wonder. "I think I might just stay a while then." He settled back into the chair, picking up his book again. "Care if I borrow this?"
+
+"Feel free. Just don't spill coffee on the pages, and try not to break any more bookshelves while you're at it."
+
+He nearly choked on his own spit at that. "Excuse me? I'm a very careful reader!"
+
+Lara snorted. "Sure you are, Casanova. I remember when one of your kind knocked over half the romance section trying to impress a waitress last year."
+
+"I'll have you know, that was entirely accidental-" Caden started to protest, but a sharp look from across the room cut him off.
+
+"Hmmph. I'll believe that when I see it. Now shoo, I have work to do and I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your ramblings to a minimum."
+
+Muttering under his breath, Caden slunk back into the chair, pouting. He'd never been dismissed so curtly in his entire life, least of all by a woman. Normally they were falling over themselves to impress him. Yet here he sat, dripping on her nice leather chair and being scolded like a schoolboy.
+
+Still... there was something about it, something utterly entrancing in the set of that jaw and the fire in those hazel eyes. He found himself captivated, utterly unable to look away. He'd known plenty of beautiful women in his time, but none quite so... alive as this one.
+
+"Penny for your thoughts?" Lara's voice broke into his reverie. He nearly leapt out of his skin, book thumping to the floor with a loud thunk.
+
+"Jesus Christ, woman! I thought you said you had work to do!" he hissed, hand clapping over his pounding heart.
+
+Lara quirked an eyebrow at him, lips twitching. "Well, I finished shelving the new arrivals, and you looked like you were about to break something else staring at me like that." She pointed at the book lying open facedown on the carpet.
+
+"Was not," Caden huffed, cheeks flushing bright red as he bent to retrieve it. "I was just... thinking."
+
+"Uh-huh," Lara drawled, clearly unconvinced. "About what? Your latest headline?"
+
+"As if," Caden scoffed, nose in the air. "I was musing on the existential dread of mortality, actually. Very deep thoughts."
+
+Lara snickered. "Right. Well, do try to keep the existential dread to a minimum. I have customers coming in soon and I'd prefer they not think I employ homicidal maniacs."
+
+Caden stuck his tongue out at her, then settled back into the chair with a dramatic sigh, nose pointedly turned up. "You're impossible."
+
+"And you," Lara said sweetly, "are a pain in my arse. But I suppose you'll do for company today."
+
+Caden gaped at her, flabbergasted. He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again, unable to think of a proper retort. With an indignant sniff, he turned back to his book, pointedly ignoring the feminine chuckle behind him.
+
+It was going to be a very long day indeed...
+
+---