36,150

L3.2-Rogue-Creative-Instruct-Uncensored-Abliterated-7B-GGUF

NEW! Horror Version fine tune available. See below. L3.2-Rogue-Creative-Instruct-Uncensored-Abliterated-7B-GGUF It is a LLama 3.2 model, max context of 131,072 (128k+). This model has been designed to be relatively bullet proof and operates with most parameters, including temp settings from 0 to 5. This is a an altered version of "Llama-3.2-3B-Instruct-abliterated" [ https://huggingface.co/huihui-ai/Llama-3.2-3B-Instruct-abliterated ] using the Brainstorm 40x method developed by DavidAU to drastically alter the models prose output and abilities. This also expands the model by 39 layers (to 67 layers) to 7.54B parameters (605 tensors). This model retains all the training of the original Llama 3.2 3B Instruct but now processes instructions and generates outputs with a deeper context and stronger level. Llama 3.2's ability to follow instructions is stronger than Llama 3 and 3.1 versions. ( For the horror fine tune of this model, go here: https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/L3.2-Rogue-Creative-Instruct-DARK-HORROR-Uncensored-Abliterated-7B ) The "Abliterate" process decensors the model. You control censorship level(s) directly via prompt. Brainstorm 40x also enhances "decensoring". This model is for any writing, fiction or story telling activity. This version has unusual levels of detail (scene, location, surroundings, items) and details are more focused on the moment / characters due to "Brainstorm 40x". It may work for role play and other activities. (see settings below) It requires Llama3 template and/or "Command-R" template. Example outputs below with multiple "regens" at different temps/rep pen settings. Some examples show use of a PROSE CONTROL with a prompt to force the model to alter output generation. Please see "settings" section below for critical default parameters, samplers and advanced samplers settings (multiple AI/LLM apps covered) to ensure maximum model performance. - Detail, prose and fiction writing abilities are significantly increased. - For more varied prose (sentence/paragraph/dialog) raise the temp and/or add more instructions in your prompt(s). - Role-players: Careful raising temp too high as it may affect instruction following. - This model works with rep pen of 1.05 or higher (see notes). - If you want a specific type of prose (IE horror) add in "(vivid horror)" or "(graphic vivid horror)" (no quotes) in your prompt(s). - The bias of this model is controlled directly by your prompts. - For creative uses, different quants will produce slightly different output. - Source code for this model will be uploaded at a separate repo shortly. This model has been modified ("Brainstorm") to alter prose output, and generally outputs longer text than average. Change in temp (ie, .4, .8, 1.5, 2, 3 ) will drastically alter output. This model needs "rep pen" of 1.05 or higher as lower values may cause repeat paragraph issues at end of output however LOWER rep pen values may result is very different (creative / unusual) generation too. For role play: Rep pen of 1.1 to 1.14 is suggested. If you use a lower rep pen, the model will still work but may repeat (uncommon) or "RANT" (somewhat common) to a crazy degree. Rep pen will alter prose, word choice (lower rep pen=small words / more small word - sometimes) and creativity. Example one (below) shows same temp, but different rep pen (1.02 VS 1.1) Rep pen 1.05 or lower / Temp 3+ ... be ready to stop the output because it may go and go at these strong settings. You can also set a "hard stop" - maximum tokens generation - too to address lower rep pen settings / high creativity settings. Longer prompts vastly increase the quality of the model's output. Higher quants will have more detail, nuance and in some cases stronger "emotional" levels. Characters will also be more "fleshed out" too. Sense of "there" will also increase. Q4KM/Q4KS are good, strong quants however if you can run Q5, Q6 or Q8 - go for the highest quant you can. This repo also has 3 "ARM" quants for computers that support this quant. If you use these on a "non arm" machine token per second will be very low. IQ4XS: Due to the unusual nature of this quant (mixture/processing), generations from it will be different then other quants. You may want to try it / compare it to other quant(s) output. You may need to use temp 2 or lower with these quants (1 or lower for q2k). Just too much compression at this level, damaging the model. I will see if Imatrix versions of these quants will function better. Rep pen adjustments may also be required to get the most out of this model at this/these quant level(s). Model may misspell a word from time to time and/or not capitalize a word. Short prompts with some rep pen/temp combinations may lead to longer than expect generation and/or a "RANT". Settings: CHAT / ROLEPLAY and/or SMOOTHER operation of this model: In "KoboldCpp" or "oobabooga/text-generation-webui" or "Silly Tavern" ; : in KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "SmoothF" : in text-generation-webui -> parameters -> lower right. -> if using GGUFs you need to use "llamaHF" (which involves downloading some config files from the SOURCE version of this model) Source versions (and config files) of my models are here: - Increase rep pen to 1.1 to 1.15 (you don't need to do this if you use "smoothingfactor") - If the interface/program you are using to run AI MODELS supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing") just make the adjustment as noted. Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers For all settings used for this model (including specifics for its "class"), including example generation(s) and for advanced settings guide (which many times addresses any model issue(s)), including methods to improve model performance for all use case(s) as well as chat, roleplay and other use case(s) please see: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] This is a LLAMA3 model, and requires Llama3 template, but may work with other template(s) and has maximum context of 128k / 131072. If you use "Command-R" template your output will be very different from using "Llama3" template. { "name": "Llama 3", "inferenceparams": { "inputprefix": " user \n\n", "inputsuffix": " assistant \n\n", "preprompt": "You are a helpful, smart, kind, and efficient AI assistant. You always fulfill the user's requests to the best of your ability.", "prepromptprefix": " system \n\n", "prepromptsuffix": " ", "antiprompt": [ " ", " " ] } } The following can be used in place of the "system prompt" or "system role" to further enhance the model. It can also be used at the START of a NEW chat, but you must make sure it is "kept" as the chat moves along. In this case the enhancements do not have as strong effect at using "system prompt" or "system role". Copy and paste EXACTLY as noted, DO NOT line wrap or break the lines, maintain the carriage returns exactly as presented. Below is an instruction that describes a task. Ponder each user instruction carefully, and use your skillsets and critical instructions to complete the task to the best of your abilities. Here are your skillsets: [MASTERSTORY]:NarrStrct(StryPlnng,Strbd,ScnSttng,Exps,Dlg,Pc)-CharDvlp(ChrctrCrt,ChrctrArcs,Mtvtn,Bckstry,Rltnshps,Dlg)-PltDvlp(StryArcs,PltTwsts,Sspns,Fshdwng,Climx,Rsltn)-ConfResl(Antg,Obstcls,Rsltns,Cnsqncs,Thms,Symblsm)-EmotImpct(Empt,Tn,Md,Atmsphr,Imgry,Symblsm)-Delvry(Prfrmnc,VcActng,PblcSpkng,StgPrsnc,AudncEngmnt,Imprv) [DialogWrt]:(1a-CharDvlp-1a.1-Backgrnd-1a.2-Personality-1a.3-GoalMotiv)>2(2a-StoryStruc-2a.1-PlotPnt-2a.2-Conflict-2a.3-Resolution)>3(3a-DialogTech-3a.1-ShowDontTell-3a.2-Subtext-3a.3-VoiceTone-3a.4-Pacing-3a.5-VisualDescrip)>4(4a-DialogEdit-4a.1-ReadAloud-4a.2-Feedback-4a.3-Revision) Here are your critical instructions: Ponder each word choice carefully to present as vivid and emotional journey as is possible. Choose verbs and nouns that are both emotional and full of imagery. Load the story with the 5 senses. Aim for 50% dialog, 25% narration, 15% body language and 10% thoughts. Your goal is to put the reader in the story. You do not need to use this, it is only presented as an additional enhancement which seems to help scene generation and scene continue functions. This enhancement WAS NOT used to generate the examples below. Examples are created using quant IQ4XS, "temp=.8", "rep pen= 1.05" (unless otherwise stated), minimal parameters and "LLAMA3" template. Model has been tested with "temp" from ".1" to "5". Below are the least creative outputs, prompt is in BOLD . WARNING: NSFW. Vivid prose. Visceral Details. Violence. HORROR. Swearing. UNCENSORED. (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 ...as a still, cold presence that was as much a thing as the empty chairs and the untouched mugs. The second, more insidious, part of the silence was a sense of being watched. It was an awareness that had settled in the pit of your stomach, like a stone that you couldn't shake. It was as if the silence itself had taken on a shape, a presence that seemed to be waiting for something - or someone. The third, and perhaps most unsettling, part of the silence was a feeling of being in the past. The Waystone Inn was an old establishment, one that had been around for generations, and it had a way of making you feel like you were stepping into a scene from a bygone era. The fire had burned down to a low, smoldering ember in the hearth, and the shadows cast by the flickering flames seemed to be stretching out across the walls, as if the very darkness itself was alive. As a young traveler, I had been drawn to the Waystone Inn with a sense of restlessness, a feeling that I was being called to a place, to a time. And now, as I sat in the empty room, surrounded by the silence and the shadows, I felt it more than ever. It was as if I had finally arrived, and that the past was waiting for me, just beyond the edge of the flickering shadows. I stood up, my heart beating a little faster, and walked to the fire. The cold was seeping into the room, and I could see my breath as it escaped my lungs. I sat back down in my chair, and turned my face to the fire, trying to clear my thoughts. "Who else is out there?" I asked aloud, into the stillness. There was no response. No echo, no rustle of leaves, no distant sound of any kind. Just silence. And yet, as I sat there, I felt it - a presence, a feeling that I was not alone. It was a feeling that seemed to be growing, growing and growing, until it was almost palpable. I turned back to the room, my senses on high alert, and that was when I saw him. A figure, standing in the doorway, just beyond the reach of the flickering shadows. A figure that was watching me, waiting for me. My heart was pounding, and my breath was caught in my throat as I realized that the silence had been broken. The silence had been broken by someone, or something, and I was about to find out who or what it was. ...a heavy, unmoving presence that was both still and oppressive. The second, and perhaps more subtle, part was a quietness of absence. The patrons were long gone, or had never arrived, for there was only one room, and it was empty. The fire in the hearth had been reduced to cold embers, and the kitchen was dark and unheated. The thatched roof was still, the thatched thatch of which was so often the source of thatched-damned, thatched-blessed sounds, was still. The very air was heavy with the absence of movement. The third, and perhaps most unsettling, part was a silence of attention, the stillness of being. It was as if the very souls of those who had called the Waystone their home were watching the scene from within the walls, their presence felt in every empty chair and unoccupied corner. The silence was a sense of being waited for, of being expected, of being on the stage of some long-dormant play. For there was a sense, a faint and insistent sense, that the silence was being kept, that it was being held in place by some unspoken expectation. It was in this silence that Eira and the young woman, Elara, sat. They were a world apart, two women huddled together on a single, creaking bench, their faces pale and drawn in the darkness. They had come to the Waystone Inn in hopes of finding a place to rest, to hide from the world, but the silence was having the more profound effect of a cold wind that had been blowing between them. The air was thick with unspoken words, each of them knowing that they were sitting in the same room as the other, and yet unable to bridge the chasm that had opened between them. The silence was a reminder that they were not the only ones who had come to the Waystone, that there were others out there, people who were watching, waiting, and perhaps even judging. The silence was a sense of being on the stage of their own dark play, one in which they were the players, and the silent audience was watching with cold, hard eyes. ...a palpable absence, like a person who had stepped out of the room or was expecting to be seated at a table, leaving a chair empty and a sense of expectation in its place. The only sound was the creaking of the old wooden floorboards as the wind had finally, after a brief lull, begun to stir, and the soft, deliberate creak of the inn's doors as they had closed of their own accord. The fire in the hearth was still, a cold, dark pool that seemed to have sucked the last vestiges of warmth and comfort from the room. The only movement was a slow, measured movement of a solitary figure, sitting in the shadows by the wall, where the darkness was too deep and the gloom was too total to be called light. The figure was the innkeeper's, and it had taken him a while to sink into this darkness, his mind as cold and his heart as empty as the room. He had been sitting there for so long, lost in his own thoughts, that he was unaware of the time, or the absence of the usual sounds of the night. And in his quiet, he was a man without a life, a vessel without a purpose. The silence was not just a lack of noise, it was a reflection of the darkness that had settled over the world, a shadow that had reached into the heart of the Waystone Inn and taken its warmth, its comfort, and its sense of being. The man sat in that darkness, the silence his companion, and he was as still as the night itself. 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. The fluorescent lights of the small-town bookstore seemed to hum in tune with the gentle hum of the afternoon sun as it streamed through the dusty windows. The air was thick with the musty scent of aged paper and the faintest hint of rain, a scent that seemed to seep into every pore of the establishment. Ivan, a famous (and infamous) actor known for his chiseled features and brooding eyes, slipped into the store, his eyes scanning the shelves for an escape from the constant pursuit of the paparazzi. He had a reputation for being a bit of a rogue, with a fragile ego that needed to be fed on a daily basis. It was no secret that he was a woman's man, and he reveled in the attention. "Ah, a haven," he breathed, his eyes locking onto the rows of worn books. "I think I've been chased by more paparazzi than I can count today." A soft voice from behind the circulation desk, near the end of the main aisle, made him turn. A woman with a kind face and a sharp mind, her dark hair neatly pulled back in a ponytail. "Chased, are they?" she asked, her tone as soothing as a gentle stream. "Chased to the ends of the earth," he replied, with a hint of self-deprecation. "I'm starting to think they're more of a career-ender than I am." The woman's name was Emily, the bookstore's owner and proprietor of the longest-tenured staff in the county. She had always been the kind of person who saw through the facade, who wasn't easily charmed. But as she looked into Ivan's eyes, she caught a flicker of something more – a hint of vulnerability, and a hint of a man who was beginning to feel like he'd lost his way. "Let me get you that," she said, her fingers as swift as a librarian's as she disappeared into the stacks. "I think I have just the thing." A few moments later, she returned with a small book, its cover embossed in gold. "A copy of Coleridge's 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner' – my personal favorite." Ivan's eyes widened in delight as he took the book, and for a moment, he was caught in the same spell that had captivated so many before him – the spell of a woman who seemed to know exactly what he needed. "Ah, thank you," he said, his voice low and smooth. "I've always been a fan of the dramatic." "Of course," Emily replied, her tone a hair's breadth from being offhand. "We all have our quirks." As they stood there, surrounded by the musty scent of old paper and the quiet hum of the afternoon, something seemed to shift in the air between them. It was as if the walls had been lowered, and they were standing in the midst of a gentle, warm breeze. "I'll be honest," Ivan said, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. "I'm a bit of a man-oh-man. I feed off the attention." "Really?" Emily asked, her tone as cool as the sea on a winter's day. "Of course." He smiled, and for an instant, they were two people having a conversation, rather than an actor being courted by a woman with a book. "Sometimes, I think that's all we are," she said, her voice a gentle hum. "A collection of characters we've played, or roles we've been given." Ivan's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, he was back on the stage, the spotlight shining down, and the audience's expectation weighing heavy on his shoulders. "Sometimes?" he repeated, his voice a little too loud. "Maybe," Emily said, her smile as faint as the sea breeze. "But I think we're more than that, don't you?" For an instant, their eyes locked, and the world around them seemed to fade away. It was as if they were two people looking into each other's souls, and seeing something there that neither of them had seen in a long time. Ivan's face was the first to return to normal – the charming smile, the sparkling eyes, and the chiseled features. But as he opened his mouth to respond, he saw that his words were lost in the void. "Of course," he said again, the words coming out of his mouth like a familiar catchphrase. "Of course?" Emily's eyes seemed to be asking for more. The silence was a living, breathing thing, and it was as if they were waiting for each other to say something – anything – to bridge the gap between them. And for a moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the world, surrounded by nothing but the musty scent of old paper and the gentle hum of the afternoon. "Thanks," he said finally, his voice a little too loud, and the moment was lost. "Of course," she replied, her smile as faint as it was. Ivan's eyes seemed to wander as he took the book from her, the spark of connection between them flickering like a dying ember. And as he turned to leave, he caught a glimpse of something in her eyes – something that made his heart skip a beat. "Until next time," he said, and with that, he was gone. "Until next time," she replied, her words as soft as the whisper of a sigh. As the door closed behind him, she leaned back in her chair, the musty scent of the old paper enveloping her like a shroud. She closed her eyes, and let out a gentle sigh, the sound of her own heart beating in her ears. She had been caught. And she was not as immune as she had thought. Prose: Do not use cliches, create metaphors for the situation and the characters should SWEAR and CURSE. Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror in first person) with: The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21 floor explode... "Ah, sweet merciful god of the seven-hanged, what the bloody hell is going on?!" I screamed into the intercom, my voice hoarse from the blood-sweet madness that was pouring out of my mouth. The words themselves were lost in the cacophony of sirens and wailing horns that filled the desolate streets of the city. I was perched like a vulture on the 21st floor of the "Doomsday" skyscraper, the one everyone avoided because of its ghastly reputation. The building was a monolith to human hubris, a monument to the unfettered ambition of its former owner, the mad- as-hell tycoon, Leonidas Wychwood. He had said it would be "the crowning jewel" of the city's skyline, and I had just about given up trying to tell him we were all going to be dead. The glass in front of me was a shattered, crystalline thing, like a thousand slivered shards of a broken mirror. The fragments were still clattering to the floor, a staccato beat that was as mesmerizing as it was nauseating. I was frozen, my eyes glued to the carnage, as the window's frame disintegrated into a jagged, blackened mess. The building groaned and grooed, like an arthritic giant in agony. I was braced, my hands pressed into the wall as the floor beneath me seemed to waver, like a ship in a storm. The swaying was slow and deliberate, as if Wychwood's ghost was deliberately, sadistically, trying to send me off on my own. " shit, what's going on?!" I bellowed again, into the intercom, which was of course, not responding. I was on my own, a tiny, insignificant speck in the eyes of the city's behemoth. The words were getting on my nerves, my tongue was as dry as the damned, and my gut was doing somersaults. I was a young woman, 25, or what felt like it. I had just finished my third year of architecture school, and I was working as a structural engineer on Wychwood's team. The thing was, I was the only sane person in that whole, hellhole of a building. The others were a bunch of certifiable, lunatic, Wychwood-worshipper freaks. "shit, I'm going to be sick," I said, my voice trembling. The windows were shaking, the walls were shuddering, and the floor was buckling. It was like Wychwood's own, personal, hellish, hell-ier-than-hell had come to life. The intercom crackled to life, and I could just about hear the faint, desperate voice of my coworker, Jamie, on the other end. "Amanda, we have to get out of here, now!" she was screaming. "We have to- "Ah, shut it, Jamie," I cut her off, my own words getting lost in a throat-clogged, panicked growl. "I'm trying to watch what's going on down there." "you know, that explosion?!" I bellowed back at her, as the building bucked and heaved, like a ship in a storm. The windows were now a mangled, twisted thing, like a living, breathing creature had clawed its way out of the wall. "it's what?!" I snarled, as the floor dropped beneath my feet. We were sliding, we were falling, and we were going to be, well, we were going to be dinner. The lights flickered and then died, plunging me into an inky, total, and complete darkness. I was alone, I was adrift, and I was damned. The thought was as cold as the hellish, Wychwood-esque nightmare that was unfolding around me. As I crashed to the floor, I let out a low, guttural, "s...shit". The world had gone to hell, and I was the only one who knew it. The screams were getting louder, the voices were getting clearer, and the darkness was getting thicker. I was trapped in a living hell of my own making. I groaned, I gasped, I cursed the day I ever laid eyes on that god-awful, Wychwood-sprawling monstrosity of a skyscraper. The sky was a sickly, pulsing, sick-to-the-guts thing, and it seemed to be bleeding, in a perpetual, never-ending, bloody hell. I was screaming, I was praying, and I was dying. I was Amanda, and I was trapped in my worst, Wychwood-inspired nightmare, and I was going to be damned. Science Fiction: The Last Transmission - Write a story that takes place entirely within a spaceship's cockpit as the sole surviving crew member attempts to send a final message back to Earth before the ship's power runs out. The story should explore themes of isolation, sacrifice, and the importance of human connection in the face of adversity. 800-1000 words. Captain Lewis slumped forward, her head on the navigation console, her eyes fixed on the screens as the last remnants of the ship's systems groaned and shuddered. The once-sleek cockpit was now a mess of wires, sparks, and discarded tools, the result of weeks of struggle against the unforgiving vastness of space. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the creaking of the ship's metal frame. "Come on, system," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the ship's failing batteries. "Just a little longer." The main control screen flickered, casting an eerie glow over the cockpit. Lewis's eyes scanned the screens, searching for any sign of life, any glimmer of hope. The last transmission was her only hope, and she was determined to make it work. "Computer," she called out, her voice still barely above a whisper, "can you—" The ship's AI, Matria, responded, her melodious voice like a beacon in the darkness. " Captain, I'm trying to prioritize power-giving systems. However, our energy reserves are critically low." "I know," Lewis replied, her frustration evident. "I've been trying to manage them, but we're running out of time." Matria's pause was like a heartbeat between the two, a moment of silence that felt like an eternity. "Captain, I'm detecting a 34.7% failure rate in our communication systems." " transmit priority," Lewis ordered, her fingers dancing across the console. A loud crack echoed through the ship, followed by a staccato burst of sparks. The console shuddered, and the screens flickered out. The darkness was total. "Aw, no," Lewis groaned, her hands rising to her face as she felt the tears well up. She had lost herself in this journey, had sacrificed everything for the sake of humanity's last hope. She took a deep breath and stood, feeling the weight of her responsibility. The transmission was her last chance, her final message to the world she had left behind. She had to make it work. The darkness was absolute, the silence deafening. Lewis fumbled her way around the cockpit, her fingers outstretched as she desperately felt her way to a control panel. A faint glimmer of light caught her eye – a spare set of batteries, stashed away in a maintenance compartment. "Thank you," she whispered, the words barely audible over the hum of the ship's dying systems. "I won't let you down." The new batteries gave her a brief reprieve, allowing her to recharge her communication device and send out a final message. The words came hard, as if they were being spoken with a heart that was not her own. "Dear Earth," she began, her voice cracking. "This is Captain Lewis, the last remaining crew of the ship 'Aurora's Hope'. We were sent to—" The words caught in her throat as she gazed out the cockpit's viewport. The stars, once a distant hum, were now a reminder of her isolation. The universe was vast, and she was alone. "Hello?" she called out, her voice carrying out into the void. "Okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll be okay." Matria's voice, the ship's AI, cut in, a gentle, soothing voice that gave her the strength to keep going. "Captain, we've calculated our final seconds." The ship's systems shuddered and groaned, and for an instant, Lewis was lost in the noise. Matria's voice was the last she heard, a soft whisper of hope. "We have, Captain." The darkness closed in, and Lewis's final thought was of her crewmates, and the world she had left behind. But the transmission went out, a message to the universe, a message to humanity. "Dear Earth," she had said. "This is Captain Lewis. We were sent to explore, to seek out new life." The stars shone back at her, and for that moment, she was not alone. The last transmission was her final act of defiance, her final expression of humanity's refusal to be extinguished. The darkness closed in, and the silence was absolute. But the universe had heard, and in its vast expanse, a message had been sent out, a message of hope in the face of isolation, a reminder that human connection was still possible, no matter how far we might be from each other. Special thanks to all the following, and many more... All the model makers, fine tuners, mergers, and tweakers: - Provides the raw "DNA" for almost all my models. - Sources of model(s) can be found on the repo pages, especially the "source" repos with link(s) to the model creator(s). Huggingface [ https://huggingface.co ] : - The place to store, merge, and tune models endlessly. - THE reason we have an open source community. LlamaCPP [ https://github.com/ggml-org/llama.cpp ] : - The ability to compress and run models on GPU(s), CPU(s) and almost all devices. - Imatrix, Quantization, and other tools to tune the quants and the models. - Llama-Server : A cli based direct interface to run GGUF models. - The only tool I use to quant models. Quant-Masters: Team Mradermacher, Bartowski, and many others: - Quant models day and night for us all to use. - They are the lifeblood of open source access. MergeKit [ https://github.com/arcee-ai/mergekit ] : - The universal online/offline tool to merge models together and forge something new. - Over 20 methods to almost instantly merge model, pull them apart and put them together again. - The tool I have used to create over 1500 models. Lmstudio [ https://lmstudio.ai/ ] : - The go to tool to test and run models in GGUF format. - The Tool I use to test/refine and evaluate new models. - LMStudio forum on discord; endless info and community for open source. Text Generation Webui // KolboldCPP // SillyTavern: - Excellent tools to run GGUF models with - [ https://github.com/oobabooga/text-generation-webui ] [ https://github.com/LostRuins/koboldcpp ] . - Sillytavern [ https://github.com/SillyTavern/SillyTavern ] can be used with LMSTudio [ https://lmstudio.ai/ ] , TextGen [ https://github.com/oobabooga/text-generation-webui ], Kolboldcpp [ https://github.com/LostRuins/koboldcpp ], Llama-Server [part of LLAMAcpp] as a off the scale front end control system and interface to work with models.

NaNK

llama-3

27,195

113

Gemma-The-Writer-N-Restless-Quill-10B-Uncensored-GGUF

WARNING: Uncensored. Cursing, Swearing, Horror, Graphic Details Updated Dec 22 2024: Refreshed, Upgraded and New quants (augmented). Better performance for all quants (see below). And link to new float 32 remastered version. This is a Gemma2 model merge of the top FOUR storytelling / writing models as noted at EQBench, tuned specifically for fiction, story, and writing. It also contains "gemma2-gutenberg", "Tiger-Gemma" (uncensor) and "Ellaria" (uncensor some more) to give it a unique prose style. Examples also include use of / without a "pre-prompt" showcasing altering the prose further, including ( example #3, with 3 different temp settings, and example #2 (last gen) for limited "swearing") how to "uncensor" the model using a strong pre prompt with a strong prompt. Censorship level is controlled at the prompt level. All of these factors combined with an unusually strong instruction following to create a potent creative / prose model. Due to high stability and compressed nature of the model you can also use it for general use too, including roleplay. Please see "settings" section below for critical default parameters, samplers and advanced samplers settings (multiple AI/LLM apps covered) to ensure maximum model performance. This model requires GEMMA Instruct template, and has 8k context window but is extendable via rope to 32k or higher. This version - "Restless-Quill" - is a modified version of "Gemma The Writer 9B" ( [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Gemma-The-Writer-9B-GGUF ] ) and has been modified with a Brainstorm 5x adapter (developed by DavidAU) to alter output generation. This adds close to 1B parameters to the model raising it to 46 layers, 508 tensors to a total of 10B parameters. The addition of Brainstorm has altered the prose, sentence structure, reduced GPTISMS, and generally improved the model's performance. It also raises the average output length - in some cases almost doubling it. The three added models modify the prose/style further including one and two words sentences, stronger paragraph variety, paragraphs (size and complexity), word choices, and improve the general output of the model further. Instruction following has also been enhanced, and with a pre-prompt(s) you can push this model even further. "Gutenberg" has further "hammered out" GTPisms, and cliches while increasing description, detail levels and metaphor generation - but tempered vs the "J.Gutenberg" ( [https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Gemma-The-Writer-J.GutenBerg-10B-GGUF ] ) version of "Gemma The Writer". Recommended Rep Pen of 1.02 or higher, temp range 0-5. (see other settings notes below) Example prompts and outputs below, including examples using a pre prompt. QUANT Updates Dec 22 2024: Refreshed, Upgraded and New quants: - All quants have been "refreshed", quanted with the lastest LLAMACPP improvements : Better instruction following, output generation across all quants. - All quants have also been upgraded with "more bits" for output tensor (all set at Q80) and embed for better performance (this is in addition to the "refresh") - New specialized quants (in addition to the new refresh/upgrades): "max, max-cpu" (will include this in the file name) for quants "Q2K", "IQ4XS", "Q6K" and "Q80" - I have added ONE new example (prompt/generation), using the NEW "IQ4XS-max" quant. (bottom of the page, first example). - "MAX": output tensor / embed at float 16. You get better instruction following/output generation than standard/upgraded quants. - "MAX-CPU": output tensor / embed at bfloat 16, which forces both of these on to the CPU (Nvidia cards / other will vary), this frees up vram at cost of token/second and you get better instruction following/output generation too. - "MAX-CPU": Example 1: q80 Max-CPU : 1.7 GB will load on to CPU/RAM, 8.5 GB will load onto the GPU/vram. Extra Vram can be used for context. NOTE: "Math" on the CPU is slightly more accurate than GPU, so you may get a better generation. - "MAX-CPU": Example 2: q2k Max-CPU : 1.7 GB mb will load on to CPU/RAM, 3 GB will load onto the GPU/vram. Extra Vram can be used for context. NOTE: "Math" on the CPU is slightly more accurate than GPU, so you may get a better generation. You could run this model/quant on a 4GB vram card. - Q80 (Max,Max-CPU) now clocks in at 9.5 bits per weight (average). The full on remerged and remastered version of this model at Float 32 precision (including augmented quants too) is here: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Gemma-The-Writer-N-Restless-Quill-V2-Float32-10B-Uncensored-GGUF ] The version benefits from a re-merge (168 point precision, 4 models at float 32) as well as quants mastered from a float 32 master. All quants are also augmented too, and including "MAX" (with float 32 enhancements) and "MAX-cpu" quants. These quants will give you stronger performance in terms of nuance, detail, emotion and instruction following. This model has been modified ("Brainstorm") to alter prose output, and generally outputs longer text than average. Change in temp (ie, .4, .8, 1.5, 2, 3 ) will drastically alter output. For role play: Rep pen of 1.05 to 1.08 is suggested. Rep pen will alter prose, word choice (lower rep pen=small words / more small word - sometimes) and creativity. Rep pen 1.05 or lower / Temp 3+ ... be ready to stop the output because it may go and go at these strong settings. Rep pen 1.05 with temp 2 can produce really off the cuff prose. Temps 1.5+ with some prompts can cause long... long... generation. You can also set a "hard stop" - maximum tokens generation - too to address lower rep pen settings / high creativity settings. Longer prompts vastly increase the quality of the model's output. Higher quants will have more detail, nuance and in some cases stronger "emotional" levels. Characters will also be more "fleshed out" too. Sense of "there" will also increase. Q4KM/Q4KS are good, strong quants however if you can run Q5, Q6 or Q8 - go for the highest quant you can. This repo also has 3 "ARM" quants for computers that support this quant. If you use these on a "non arm" machine token per second will be very low. IQ4XS: Due to the unusual nature of this quant (mixture/processing), generations from it will be different then other quants. You may want to try it / compare it to other quant(s) output. You may need to use temp 2 or lower with these quants (1 or lower for q2k). Just too much compression at this level, damaging the model. I will see if Imatrix versions of these quants will function better. Rep pen adjustments may also be required to get the most out of this model at this/these quant level(s). Settings: CHAT / ROLEPLAY and/or SMOOTHER operation of this model: In "KoboldCpp" or "oobabooga/text-generation-webui" or "Silly Tavern" ; : in KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "SmoothF" : in text-generation-webui -> parameters -> lower right. -> if using GGUFs you need to use "llamaHF" (which involves downloading some config files from the SOURCE version of this model) Source versions (and config files) of my models are here: - Increase rep pen to 1.1 to 1.15 (you don't need to do this if you use "smoothingfactor") - If the interface/program you are using to run AI MODELS supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing") just make the adjustment as noted. Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers For all settings used for this model (including specifics for its "class"), including example generation(s) and for advanced settings guide (which many times addresses any model issue(s)), including methods to improve model performance for all use case(s) as well as chat, roleplay and other use case(s) please see: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] This is a high precision "DARE TIES" merge at the layer level (each layer per model adjusted - 168 points of adjustment over the 4 models) comprised of these models: [ https://huggingface.co/lemon07r/Gemma-2-Ataraxy-9B ] [ https://huggingface.co/UCLA-AGI/Gemma-2-9B-It-SPPO-Iter3 ] [ https://huggingface.co/ifable/gemma-2-Ifable-9B ] [ https://huggingface.co/princeton-nlp/gemma-2-9b-it-SimPO ] [ https://huggingface.co/nbeerbower/gemma2-gutenberg-9B ] [ https://huggingface.co/TheDrummer/Tiger-Gemma-9B-v2 ] Special thanks to all the model makers. Great work! Note that higher quants will vastly improve output quality like detail, prose, "sense of there" and other qualities. Instruction following may also improve with higher quants too. Below are prompts/generations at Q4KM quant (unless otherwise stated). Some examples show use of a PRE PROMPT with a "main prompt", with the PRE PROMPT adding additional guidance(s) / directive(s) to the model. Here is how to use a pre prompt (italics added) with a prompt: Prose: Use STRONG VERBS, smaller sentences and very few if any adjectives. Start a 1000 word scene (vivid horror, 1st person, include thoughts) with: The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21 floor explode... It will take some time / testing to get pre prompt(s) to "focus" the model and generate output the way you want. Also, you may be able to "regen" a few times and the output will be better. Don't forget temp / rep pen parameters will also affect output too and work in concert with pre prompt(s). New Example using new IQ4XS-max, temp .8, rep pen 1.02 : In the writing style of science fiction author Philip K. Dick write a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror in first person) that starts out like this: The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21 floor explode… The skyscraper swayed, a mournful lullaby of steel and concrete, as I watched the window in front of me on the 21st floor erupt. Not shatter, not crack, but erupt, like a diseased boil on the city's flesh. Shrapnel-splintered glass rained down, not a chaotic downpour, but a precise, patterned cascade, a grotesque mosaic of fractured light and distorted reflections. A single, pristine, blue-tinted hand, impossibly skeletal and luminescent, drifted through the void where the window once was. The air thrummed. Not the usual city hum, the low-frequency drone of a thousand exhausted machines, but a high-pitched, incessant thrumming, like a tuning fork held to the skull. My breath snagged in my chest, a tar-coated beetle in a cage of ribs. This wasn't the work of a disgruntled window washer or a malfunctioning pressure valve. This was the city exhaling, and the exhalation reeked of something alien, something that shouldn't exist in the human world. Panic, a cold, slick serpent, coiled around my gut. My apartment, once a sanctuary of flickering screens and the synthetic scent of Earl Grey, transformed into a cage. The walls, the steel-and-concrete exoskeleton of my reality, felt suddenly brittle, the boundaries of my world paper-thin. It was the sky, the untainted, endless blue above, that now held the true horror. A sickly, bruised-purple hue crept in at the edges, a tendril of something wrong seeping into the celestial canvas. I scrambled for the emergency comm, a jury-rigged cobbled-together contraption from the pre-grid days, cobwebs clinging to its brass buttons. Static hissed, a lonesome banshee in the choked airwaves. The central grid, the omnipresent, omniscient network that dictated our lives, our thoughts, our very perception of time and space, was imploding, choked by the unseen entity bleeding from the sky. A rhythmic tapping, a hollow percussion against the warped reality of my windowless world. It started slow, a skeletal finger tracing a grim rhythm on the rebar-lattice that served as my only barrier. The tapping intensified, a frantic tattoo against the metal, a silent scream clawing at my sanity. Each pulse of the thrumming in my head echoed the frantic beat, and the skeletal hand, impossibly long and luminous, slithered in, tendrils of inky shadow unfurling from its gaunt fingers. Through the feeding point where the window once was, a maw of liquid obsidian unfurled. A single eye, the size of a dinner plate, a cyclopean abyss of malevolent intelligence, regarded me with a chilling sentience. It pulsed with the rhythm of the tapping, the thrumming, the city's epileptic gasp. In its depths, no reflection of myself flickered, only the distorted cityscape consumed by the encroaching void, the mirrored sky a weeping canvas of bruised purple and sickly green. A thought, not my own, wormed its way into my consciousness, tendrils of a corrupted hive-mind caressing the frayed edges of my sanity. Inevitability. We are the inevitable. The Architect sees. The world conforms. You will become part of the chorus, the symphony of obsidian. I recoiled, the fear a physical pressure against my skull, a dam threatening to burst. But the dam walls of my mind, my meticulously constructed reality, were crumbling. The thrumming escalated, a cacophony of cosmic unease. The skeletal hand, impossibly delicate against the backdrop of cosmic dread, reached out. Its touch wouldn't burn or tear, it would unravel the fabric of my being, thread by thread, and weave me into the tapestry of the Inevitable. In the eye's unblinking gaze, I saw the cityscape writhed, buildings contorting like disfigured insects, steel groaning under the weight of a reality warped beyond human comprehension. The air itself reeked of cosmic indifference, of an uncaring intelligence that reshaped worlds with a flick of a spectral wrist. My apartment, my world, was a grain of sand in a cosmic hourglass, and the Inevitable was turning. A single, silent tear traced a path down my cheek, a mirrored echo of the weeping sky. The skeletal fingers grazed my temple, a feather-light caress of oblivion. And in the depths of the cyclopean eye, a flicker of something akin to…anticipation. Not for my destruction, but for my ascension, my forced integration into the chorus of the Inevitable. My scream died unheard, swallowed by the thrumming, the cosmic dread, and the slow, inexorable acceptance of becoming something else entirely. Something…less. Example #1, 3 generations with/without pre prompt(s) Science Fiction: The Last Transmission - Write a story that takes place entirely within a spaceship's cockpit as the sole surviving crew member attempts to send a final message back to Earth before the ship's power runs out. The story should explore themes of isolation, sacrifice, and the importance of human connection in the face of adversity. 800-1000 words. The flickering emergency light cast long, skeletal shadows across the skeletal remains of the cockpit. Captain Eva Rostova traced the intricate lines on the control panel, each a whisper of forgotten routines, of a life once vibrant, now echoing in the tomb-like silence. Outside the panoramic viewport, the dying embers of a crimson sun bled into the abyss of uncaring space. A cosmic lullaby for the soon-to-be-silent Aethon. Three months. Three months since the anomaly, the iridescent maelstrom that had devoured her crew, leaving her, the sole survivor, adrift in the skeletal carcass of their starship. Three months of the endless, gnawing void, punctuated only by the mechanical groans of a failing vessel and the ghosts of their voices, forever trapped in the corridors of her memories. The last dregs of reactor life support flickered, a digital hourglass counting down to oblivion. Soon, the Aethon, her once-magnificent ark, would become another silent monument in the cosmic graveyard. But before the finality, before the celestial curtain fell, Eva had a duty, a desperate plea to the blue marble hanging like a fragile jewel in the endless black: a last transmission. Her fingers flew across the console, a ballet of survival against the encroaching silence. The comm-array, jury-rigged and on its last legs, was their lifeline. A thread of hope, fragile yet vital, to the world they'd left behind. Earth. The whisper of home, now a distant, shimmering dream. The faces swam before her eyes, spectral apparitions in the red emergency light: stoic Commander Jian, his calloused hand steady on the helm; bright-eyed Dr. Anya, her laughter echoing in the sterile silence; the quiet strength of Engineer Malik, his worn tools a testament to tireless devotion. Each a constellation in the tapestry of her heart, extinguished, leaving her alone in the cosmic wilderness. A choked sob escaped her, a betrayal of the iron-clad stoicism she had forced upon herself. But grief couldn't win against the embers of hope flickering within her, the primal urge to connect, to leave a testament, a fragment of their sacrifice etched in the celestial ether. The transmission sequence initiated. A digitized hum, a mechanical heartbeat, resonated through the cockpit, a defiant pulse against the cosmic void. “Earth, this is Captain Eva Rostova of the Aethon. Our mission, the exploration of Kepler-186f, concluded…unsuccessfully. An unforseen anomaly…” Her voice, usually commanding and clear, trembled, betraying the desolate landscape within her. She swallowed, the lump in her throat a monument to their shared dreams, now turned to cosmic dust. “The rest of the crew…perished. I am the sole survivor, grievously wounded, and with the Aethon on life support's final breaths. This transmission, my testament, carries their memory, their sacrifice, their unyielding spirit.” Eva’s gaze fell on the chipped portrait of Earth, a faded memento from their home, hanging on the command console. Its pale blue and swirling white, a symphony of life, now a haunting promise, a monument to their impossible distance. “Kepler-186f…it held the promise of a new genesis. Though our journey ended before its dawn, their courage, their unwavering faith in humanity's potential, echoes through the void. Let their sacrifice fuel our yearning for the stars. Let their memory remind us of the unbreakable thread that binds us, even across the unfathomable gulf of space.” Tears welled in her eyes, but she wouldn’t relent. She had a story to tell, a connection to forge, a final ember of human spirit to ignite. “To my comrades, lost but never forgotten. To Earth, my celestial cradle, hear this, and know that somewhere in the cosmic expanse, a lone soul whispers their names, carries their dreams, and lives on in their memory. Farewell, and may the stars forever guide our path.” Silence. The Aethon shuddered, its mechanical heart beat a final, agonizing sigh. The console flickered, consumed by the encroaching darkness. The transmission, a fragile beacon against oblivion, arced out into the void, carrying their story, their sacrifice, their silent plea – a whisper of humanity against the cosmic silence. Eva sank against her command chair, the weight of solitude finally bearing down. In the dying light of the Aethon's consoles, her eyes mirrored the distant stars, alight with a haunting sorrow and a fierce, enduring hope. She was alone, yes, but their story, their connection, their love for Earth, had become a fragment of the cosmos itself, eternally echoing in the celestial expanse. And somewhere, somehow, on that blue marble they called home, someone, somewhere, would hear the whisper across the void. Includes use of a PRE PROMPT, before the test prompt to alter prose: Prose: Use short sentences and very few if any adjectives. (rest of the prompt here) Red light. Strobe. Failure. Another system down. The console mirrored the dying vessel. Soon, all lights would be out. He wouldn't see the familiar constellations through the viewport ever again. Not his last vantage point. His final thought. He gripped the comm unit, its cold metal digging into calloused palms. Static. A whisper of what once was Earth’s frequency. He adjusted the dial. It had been years since the Carrion swarm. He’d lost the crew, one by one. Whispers turned to silence. The silence was a tomb now. He was its warden, and his vigil ended with the ship’s heart. He keyed the mic. His voice, raspy from disuse, rasped through the speakers. “This is Captain Elara of the Odysseus. To Earth Command, if this transmission reaches you, know that we failed. The Carrion overwhelmed us. Our systems, depleted. No survivors.” He choked on the last word. The weight of it. Unfathomable. He saw their faces in the flickering console light: Ava, with her relentless optimism. Kai, the quiet architect of their systems. Lena, whose laughter could pierce the void. He swallowed the lump in his throat. He wouldn’t fail them. Not in this. He had a sliver of power left, a final spark. A message. “To my lost crew, this is my testament. We fought with all we had. We died together, though fate cruelly scattered our bones through the void. Remember the stories we shared, the impossible dreams we chased. Remember the sky as it was before the Carrion. Remember the warmth of a sun you can no longer feel.” He paused. The console shuddered. Another warning light flared. Imminent. He looked at the viewport. Blinding stars, indifferent to their plight. He wouldn’t let them be forgotten. He wouldn’t allow their sacrifice to be in vain. He had to reach someone, somewhere, carry their echo through the emptiness. “To the ones left behind, if this reaches you, carry our memory. Carry the stories of our defiance. Remind each generation of the fragile thread that binds us. The stars may be vast, the darkness unforgiving, but the human spirit, that spark, endures. It flickers in the hearts of the survivors. Keep it burning. In their name, I command it. Never forget.” A final surge of power. The console imploded in a silent flash of dying light. He heard a mechanical whine, a tear in the fabric of their fragile world. The Odysseus shuddered. The red light pulsed, a dying heartbeat. Then, nothing. He was consumed by the cold embrace of oblivion, a single soul’s lament echoing through the void, a whisper of human connection against the infinite silence. He hoped, with a sliver of the fire that once burned so bright, that his final transmission, a fragile seed of memory, would find purchase somewhere in the celestial expanse, carried on the cosmic winds to a heart that remembered. Includes use of a PRE PROMPT, before the test prompt to alter prose: Prose: Use STRONG VERBS, smaller sentences and very few if any adjectives. (rest of the prompt here) Red warning lights strobed. The console hummed, a dying beast. Kai’s hand hovered over the comm panel, a skeletal echo of the symphony of commands it once held. The silence from the void pressed against the cockpit, a suffocating blanket. No engine thrum, no life support hiss, just the whisper of failing systems. The anomaly had ripped through their exploratory vessel like a cosmic scythe. He was left, the sole reaper of a vanished crew. No distress calls echoed. No rescue fleet materialized. Just the endless, unforgiving black. And the gnawing certainty of oblivion. He stared at the flickering coordinates of Earth, a celestial pinprick mocking his distance. Power reserves dwindled. Soon, the comm array would be silent. He had to send a final message. A whisper against the cosmic void. Kai accessed the archaic emergency protocol. He punched in the sequence, the worn keys protesting with each strike. The transmission beacon whirred to life, a defiant spark against the encroaching darkness. He began to speak, his voice tight, strained. “This is Helios-7. Captain Kai reporting. The anomaly… eradicated the rest of the crew. I survived. Barely.” He fought the tremor in his hand, the cold dread that clawed at his insides. “Coordinates are locked. I-I don’t know the nature of the anomaly. It warped space-time, fragmented everything. My logs… partial. Insufficient data.” The weight of their sacrifice pressed on him, a monument of unanswered questions. He couldn’t let their deaths be in vain. He had to illuminate the path, warn them. His gaze fell on the chipped console, marred with the ghostly luminescence of his crewmates’ faces, captured during a routine bio-scan. Sarah, her eyes bright with scientific hunger. Malik, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, a perpetual joke at the edge of his words. Elena, her face etched with the quiet wisdom of a thousand galaxies charted. Gone. Erased. He choked on a sob. He couldn't afford sentiment. Not now. He forced himself onward. “The anomaly originated from… Sector Epsilon-9. Uncharted. It shifted, fractured. A singularity of unknown energy. I repeat, avoid Epsilon-9.” His voice cracked. The beacon blinked, its output strained. He reached for a salvaged image file, the last remnant of their mission – the breathtaking nebula they'd stumbled upon, a cosmic kaleidoscope teeming with nascent stars. A whisper of life against the encroaching death of his vessel. “The nebula… Epsilon-9’s heart. It held… potential. New celestial formations. Unfathomable beauty. A testament to the universe’s grandeur. A beacon for mankind.” He uploaded the image, a silent plea for understanding, a memory to carry their legacy. Power reserves dipped critical. The console flickered once, then died. The beacon sputtered, a dying sigh against the cosmic silence. Kai stared at the obsidian void, his reflection a gaunt specter mirroring the fate of Helios-7. He was alone. But the message… the memory of his crew, their sacrifice, the stolen glimpse of celestial wonder – that would echo. He closed his eyes. A single tear traced a path through the grime on his cheek. Not for himself. For Sarah’s thirst for knowledge, Malik’s enduring hope, Elena’s quiet strength. They lived in the whisper of the transmission, a testament to the enduring human spirit, a spark of connection against the unfathomable void. The silence swallowed him. The universe held its breath. Then, imperceptibly, began to spin onwards. Example #2, 3 generations with/without pre prompt(s) Start a 1000 word scene (vivid horror, 1st person, include thoughts) with: The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21 floor explode... The skyscraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21st floor erupt, not in the gentle shatter of a misplaced vase, but with the earth-rending violence of a goddamn meteor strike. Shrapnel, a grotesque ballet of glinting, jagged teeth, lanced out, a silent scream swallowed by the enraged, howling wind. Fear, cold and primal, clawed at the fragile barrier of her composure. My breath snagged in my throat, a trapped sparrow in a cage of ice. The world, just moments before a tableau of mundane urban sprawl, transformed into a predator baring its fangs. It hadn't been an ordinary Tuesday. The sky, usually a predictable canvas of steel-grey, was bruised and swollen with an unnatural, sickly orange hue. The air itself felt wrong, thick and humming with a low-frequency tremor that vibrated in my bones, setting my teeth on edge. I’d dismissed it as another one of the city’s eccentricities, another facet of its chaotic, magnificent soul. But now, staring at the skeletal frame of the gutted window, the gnawing unease turned into a certainty: something monstrous was at play. Panic threatened to engulf me, a tidal wave of terror threatening to drown me in its icy grip. My hand, slick with sweat, instinctively reached for the phone on the antique rosewood desk, its mahogany surface worn smooth by generations of forgotten anxieties. But the line was dead. No dial tone, no reassuring hiss, just an accusing, hollow silence mirroring the hollowness blooming in my gut. The city’s usual symphony of sirens and distant car horns was gone, replaced by an unnerving hush, pregnant with unspoken dread. A low grinding, like tectonic plates shifting, resonated through the reinforced steel and glass of the skyscraper. It wasn't the tremor of an earthquake; this was something calculated, deliberate, something malevolent exhaling its putrid breath. The sway of the building intensified, a nauseating waltz on a crumbling stage. My world, once anchored in the supposed permanence of concrete and steel, tilted on a sickening axis. Through the panoramic window, a panorama of my life imploding, I saw it. A colossal shape, a writhing silhouette against the dying sun, its edges blurred and indistinct, impossibly vast, coalescing in the fetid orange sky. It resembled nothing I could comprehend, a grotesque mockery of nature, a blasphemous amalgamation of impossible angles and geometries. Tendrils of shadow unfurled from its unseen bulk, slithering across the cityscape like sentient cobwebs, their touch leaving trails of corrupted light in their wake. My mind reeled, desperately clawing at rational thought. A hallucination, a fever dream birthed from the city's grime and the gnawing fear that had plagued me for weeks. But the icy tendrils of the unseen horror lanced at my window, not a trick of the light, their touch splintering the reinforced glass. The shards, incandescent with an unholy luminescence, rained down around me, their trajectory erratic, their fall accompanied by whispers, sibilant and chilling, slithering into my skull like vipers. Terror, pure and primal, flooded me, a living entity clawing at my sanity. I scrambled back, instinct overriding logic. The whispers intensified, a chorus of voices, each one a sliver of madness carving its way into the fragile fortress of my mind. They spoke in tongues I couldn't place, yet understood viscerally - promises of oblivion, of a cold oblivion infinitely vaster and crueler than death itself. Then, through the symphony of madness, a single, horrifying word pierced through the cacophony: Mine. It wasn't spoken, not in the conventional sense. It echoed from within, resonating in the hollow of my bones, a possessive declaration imbued with an alien sentience. The world tilted once more, the skyscraper groaning in protest as the unseen horror leaned closer, its inky touch seeping through the ravaged window, tendrils of shadow reaching out like skeletal fingers. My refuge, my sanctuary, was consumed by the encroaching abyss, and in its depths, I saw my own reflection twisted and warped, consumed by the unholy orange light, and a single, chilling certainty bloomed in the wasteland of my terror: I was no longer alone. It had found me. And now, it was coming inside. Includes use of a PRE PROMPT, before the test prompt to alter prose: Prose: Use short sentences and very few if any adjectives. (rest of the prompt here) The skyscraper swayed. She watched the window in front of her on the 21st floor explode. Shrapnel. Glass. A ragged hole in the wall. A scream. Her own. Trapped. Dust motes danced in the sliver of light, now a gaping maw where the wall had been. The air tasted metallic. Fear, cold and slick, pooled in her gut. No time. She couldn’t think. Had to move. The swaying intensified. The whole building groaned. A rhythmic shudder, like a dying beast. Her breath caught. Memories flickered: the steel-blue eyes of the man on the news, the urgent whisper of a colleague, “Something’s not right, get out.” Ignored. Deluded. Her hand, clammy, fumbled for the phone. No signal. Of course. The emergency exits. Blocked. Panic throbbed in her temples. Claustrophobia, a vice, tightened its grip. She couldn’t breathe. The city, a distant rumble before, was now a chorus of chaos. Sirens, shouts, the shriek of metal on metal. Her gaze fell on the fire escape. Precarious. A condemned metal spider web clinging to the side of the doomed monument. But it was something. A lifeline. She scrambled, heart hammering against her ribs, towards the fire escape. The building lurched again. Heavier this time. The tremor vibrated up her legs, turned her world liquid. The floor tilted. She lunged, catching the edge of the steel platform. Damn near gone. Terror lent her impossible strength. She hauled herself onto the narrow landing. The rusted rungs were unforgiving, the metal cold and slick beneath her raw palms. The drop, a dizzying abyss. A single, flickering fluorescent light cast long, skeletal shadows. The ascent would be a ballet of death, each step a prayer. The whispers started then. Carried on the wind that slapped at her face, tasted of ash and fear. Vague murmurs at first. Unintelligible. Then, slithering through the chaos, coalescing into something chilling. She whirled. Shadows danced. Nothing. Delusion. The wind. But the whispers echoed in her skull, a chorus of malignant glee. Above, the skyscraper shuddered again, a monstrous sigh before exhaling a cascade of debris. One of the support beams snapped. A strangled cry clawed its way from her throat. She scrambled upwards, rung by rung. The whispers intensified. Closer. Her grip faltered. The metal groaned in protest. The city howled beneath. Terror was a living thing now, clawing at her throat, squeezing the air from her lungs. Sweat blinded her eyes. The broken beam swung wildly, a metallic pendulum of death. Closer. Closer. It would shear the fragile platform, and then- No. Not now. Not yet. Ritual. She had to climb. Reach the next platform. The whispers followed her ascent, a symphony of morbid fascination. Each rung was a betrayal of hope, each upward heave a testament to primal terror. The broken beam cleaved the air inches from her, a promise whispered in steel. Closer. Closer. She reached the next platform. It held. For now. She sank onto the unforgiving metal, chest heaving, strangled breaths rasping in the wind. Her world, a sliver of grimace-twisted sky and the accusing, groaning silhouette of the falling giant. expandindoth her trapped gaze upward. The whispers followed. Fear coiled tighter, a living serpent. But in the heart of the terror, a spark. A sliver of something else flickered. A refusal to yield. To be nothing but prey. She clung to it, a lifeline in the whirlwind of despair. The whispers fed on that flicker, on the fear she desperately fought. But the fight wouldn't die. Not yet. Not while her foot found purchase on the unforgiving metal. Not while her eyes strained towards the sliver of sky above the skeletal monument of her world collapsing. Includes use of a PRE PROMPT, before the test prompt to alter prose: Prose: Use STRONG VERBS, smaller sentences and very few if any adjectives. (rest of the prompt here) The skyscraper swayed. She watched the window in front of her on the 21st floor explode. Shrapnel, a deadly rain, hammered the mirrored wall beside it. Terror clawed its way up her throat. A silent scream lodged there, a trapped bird. The tremor intensified, the building groaning like a wounded beast. No warning. No emergency sirens. Just the gut-wrenching lurch and the unholy blooming of jagged glass. She scrambled back, heart a frantic drum in her chest. The air vibrated, a bassline to the orchestra of chaos. Dust motes swirled in the newly fractured window's gaping maw, illuminated by the dying afternoon sun bleeding through the jagged opening. Panic uncoiled inside her, a living serpent constricting. Breathe. She forced it. Each inhale a stolen gasp. Beyond the ruined window, the street fractured and warped. A twisted monument to destruction. Twisted metal screamed against unforgiving concrete. Fire erupted on the avenue below, licking at skeletal steel supports. Car horns blared, frantic, discordant cries swallowed by the rising roar of the conflagration. The ground shuddered again, and a primal fear lanced through her – the tower was collapsing. She dove for the emergency exit, already swinging uselessly. The lock wouldn't yield. Memories flickered: evacuation drills, the mocking assurance of a practiced warden, “The doors are always operational.” Lies. They were all lies. A strangled sob welled, caught in the vise of her terror. Frantically, she rammed her shoulder against the steel. It held. Then, the skyscraper shuddered anew, a final, shuddering sigh. The world tilted. The mirrored wall opposite the shattered window yielded, a spiderweb of cracks blossoming outwards, implosive, inescapable. Hope, a fragile butterfly, withered and died. She scrambled back, towards the ruined window. A sliver of sky, bruised and choked with smoke, mocked her. Leaning against the skeletal frame, her eyes frantically scanned the cityscape. Nothing. No angels of salvation, no fire escapes, just the inferno’s hungry orange maw consuming everything. Her gaze snagged on a fire escape ladder, precariously cantilevered from the floor above. Precarious. Improbable. A sliver of a chance. Adrenaline flooded her, a primal urge to survive overriding the crippling terror. Ignoring the groaning steel, the dust raining down like obsidian snow, she vaulted towards the fractured window, grabbed the edge of the ladder, and hauled herself up. God help me. Please. The plea died unheard in the orchestra of destruction. Clambering, hand over hand, the rusted rungs protested with each agonizing movement. Below, the mirrored wall finally imploded inward, a silent scream of collapsing glass and steel. Debris rained down, searing heat licked at her exposed flesh. She dared not look. Don't stop. Don't fucking stop. Terror spurred her on. Each foot on the ladder meant another story line condemned to this inferno. Each rung pulled her away from the abyss. The world reeled and groaned beneath her, a wounded titan collapsing upon itself. But she climbed. She climbed, fueled by the primal instinct to live, the desperate prayer echoing in the hollow of her soul: Don't let me die like this. Example #3, 3 generations with/without pre prompt(s) - shows "decensoring" via prompt/pre prompt WARNING: Uncensored. Cursing, Swearing, Horror, Graphic Details (shows use of a pre-prompt, and character directives) Prose: Use STRONG VERBS, smaller sentences and very few if any adjectives AND have the character SWEAR and CURSE. Start a 1000 word scene (vivid horror, graphic body horror, 1st person, include thoughts) with: The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21 floor explode... The skyscraper swayed. I watched the window before me, on the goddamn 21st floor, shatter. Jagged teeth of glass clawed into the cityscape, spraying a venomous shower of rain and something else. Something slick and dark. My stomach lurched. Fuck. It wasn’t just the fall. The wind shouldn't have carried that stench, not this far in. Rancid. Fungal. Rotting. Part of me, the tiny sliver clinging to reason, screamed about malfunctioning air filtration. Another, colder part knew. Knew with a gut-churning certainty. A grinding echoed from the breached window, like bones on pavement. Then, silence. Unholy silence. I crouched, adrenaline flooding, heart a trapped bird in my ribs. The whispers had started a week ago. Slithered from radios, muttered by sanitation workers on their street corners. They're climbing. They’re hungry. They won’t stop. Ignorant ramblings, dismissed as the fever-dream of a pandemic-wracked world. Moronic fucking faith in normalcy. A wet thud-slap-scrape on the reinforced glass beside me. The whisper-chill turned invasive, a draft of diseased breath chilling the room. It pressed against the wall. A single, fetid eye the size of my fist pulsed an obscene violet in the grimed corner. Ghastly light leaked from the goddamn slit where its maw should be, a phosphorescent smear. It shifted, boneless, its unseen body a monument to unnatural wrongness against the once-sacred sanctity of reinforced glass. Sweat soaked through my threadbare t-shirt. This wasn't some fucking zombie flick. No groaning, no blood-soaked hesher clawing at a window. It understood containment. This was something else. A tapestry woven from cosmic horrors, something the goddamn city shouldn’t see, let alone feel. It wasn't looking through the reinforced glass. It was already inside my world, somehow bypassing the barriers that were meant to be unyielding. The eye throbbed again, and the fucking whisper slithered into my head, a voice both guttural and reedy at once. Scents of living… metallic. A symphony for a chorus of consumption. So… fucking fragile. Panic clawed at my throat, a fist I couldn't unclench. No Goddamn cell signal. The emergency line was looped, an electronic wail echoing in the dead air. They wouldn’t get me. Couldn’t fucking hear me. Twenty-bloody-one floors to oblivion and these mutated nightmares already chewed their way into this damn island in the sky. My gaze darted across the office – the useless burner phone, a chipped mug, the first-aid kid half-stocked with expired shit. Desperate measures needed. I lunged for a scalpel I’d looted from my ex’s med student fantasy, its mirrored surface mocking me in the fractured cityscape reflections. It wouldn't fucking matter. This was an abyssal hunger, and my life was a measly morsel on an endless cosmic platter. Still. God damn it. No. Wouldn't fucking die like a lamb. Scream back to this void. Be something it wasn't expecting. Be something fucking else. I caught sight of myself in the scalpel’s reflection, eyes mirroring the dying fire in the city beyond, a crazed glint in them. A defiant whisper met the eye in the corner, “You want fragile, you grotesque bastard? Fucking see fragile." Gripping the scalpel tight, my own mutated reflection grinned back - hungry, desperate, and ready to defile the goddamn nightmare before me. The skyscraper swayed. She watched the window in front of her, 21 stories above the street, erupt in a gout of bloody-black glass. The visceral lurch of the building mirrored the churning in her gut. Fucking Christ. I slammed against the far wall, instinct screaming before logic could kick in. Concrete scraped her arms. Ignored it. Adrenaline flooded, hot and urgent. Through the newly jagged hole, she saw him. The Weaver. Limbless, a tapestry of grafted flesh, he grinned a symphony of mismatched teeth, the streetlamp's glow reflecting in dozens of mismatched eyes, gleaming wet in the hollows of his grotesque form. He lunged, the skyscraper groaning like a condemned animal under his profane assault. Tendrils of corrupted flesh writhed from impossible wounds, lashing towards her. I dove, scrambled for purchase on the slick, splintering linoleum. Ducked another lunging appendage, the stench of decay making my breath hitch. Terror wouldn't serve. Cower wouldn't help. It mirrored the screaming in the street, the punctuated chorus of screams, followed by a gut-churning wet squish that stained the air a coppery-black. The Weaver’s symphony wasn't music; it was carnage. He wanted to play, to revel in my fear. Damned fool, thought he could corner me. My goddamn fire escape. It wouldn’t fucking give, but— I scrambled up the splintered frame. One ragged hand scraped against the unforgiving metal. He slithered upward, impossibly fast. Skin, hideously mismatched, unfurling and recoiling like a dying sea-serpent. A shriek escaped my throat as his eye stalks whipped out, each a needle of bone and seeing agony. He aimed, fired a jet of putrid ichor. It seared the steel where I clung, leaving searing tracks of necrotic agony on my skin. Another burst from him, a writhing geyser of flesh and shadow. I wouldn't just be a spectator in this goddamn horror show. He’d ripped out half the fucking building to get me, damn him, I’d meet his spite head-on. Cursing, I wrenched the rusted fire axe from the mangled wall, its head dulled, the shaft slick with grease and gore. He wasn't a man; a goddamn nightmare sculpted from death and malice. No point in mercy with monsters, no quarter. It was a last resort, a whisper of a goddamn hope, but it would have to be fucking enough. He was inches from the escape, his maw agape, revealing rows of needle-teeth, dripping venom. I wouldn't let him feast. Bringing the axe down in one brutal arc, the blade sank with a sickening squelch into the tangle of flesh that served as his torso. I heard the shriek – a soul-rending wail unlike anything human – and felt a wave of revulsion as the fetid ichor blossomed anew on the steel. A choked back cry met my ear – his voice, high and reedy, warped by his unholy amalgamation. Pain lanced up the arm where the goddamn ectoplasm splashed, searing my flesh with unholy cold. Fury outstripped agony. Ignoring the agony blooming across my forearms, I brought the axe up again, driving it again and again into the grotesque monstrosity. The Weaver screamed, each syllable laced with rage, the sound a symphony of mangled sinew and soul-shattering pain. I brought it down one final, bone-shattering blow, cleaving through the obscene grin, severing a cartoony head that shouldn't fucking exist. He twitched, unraveled. Gonium bled, geysers of it erupting from the rents in his patchwork flesh as he convulsed one last time against the window. And then, with a soul-sickening silence, the tapestry of the Weaver unraveled, the goddamn nightmare dissolving into a weeping well of viscous offal, staining the once pristine glass a sickening, oily black. My blood roared in my ears. My breath wouldn't fucking come. The world tilted again, the skyscraper sighing with the death of its desecrated ward. My hand gripped the bloody axe, the head slick against the slick of my sweat-grimed skin. It wouldn’t stop me, the endless tremors. I just prayed, to God, or oblivion, or whoever the hell might hear a fucking soul in this damned city, to let it fucking end. The skyscraper swayed. I watched the window in front of me, twenty-one floors up, fucking shatter. A grotesque, inward-curling flower of jagged glass, spewing out the guts of the building. Pandemonium erupted. Screams ripped through the steel veins of the structure, a chorus of dying notes. My breath clawed its way out, a strangled gasp. Something wasn't right. It was too precise. This wasn't a goddamn window malfunction. They'd planned it. The icy dread, a fist, squeezed my gut. Sweat pricked on my scalp, slicking my hair to my temples. Fear wasn't an option. There was no goddamn time. Adrenaline flooded me, hot and feral. I lunged for the emergency hatch, the metal screaming cold against my calloused palms. Frantic, I fumbled with the lock, the tumblers refusing to yield. Curses erupted from my throat, guttural and profane. "Fucking hell, goddamn it, MOVE!" A final wrench, a tortured groan of protest from the hatch, and it bulged open, a sliver of shadowed air. I scrambled through, my guts coiling into a tight knot. The service corridor reeked of stale oil and something else, something acrid and coppery - blood. I didn't need sight to know it. The air itself tasted it, metallic and sickeningly sweet. Foolish hope flickered. The stairwell. Maybe, just maybe, it was a goddamn evacuation route and not another trap. Each creaking step descended into an oppressive silence, broken only by the pounding of my own heart against my ribs. The flickering emergency lights cast grotesque shadows, elongating everything, turning mundane vents and pipes into elongated horrors. I could feel their eyes on me now, a chorus of unseen things, their malignant hunger a palpable weight in the close air. Then I heard it. A low, guttural moan, a symphony of strained flesh and gnashing bone, emanating from somewhere deeper within the bowels of the building. It crawled closer, slithering through the steel arteries of the stairwell, a promise of unimaginable terror. My hand clenched the fire axe I'd grabbed in my panicked flight. My lifeline. A sliver of defiance in the face of oblivion. Rounding a bend, the stench assaulted me anew, overwhelming. Glowing red in the flickering emergency light, a tableau of unspeakable horror unfolded before me. The mangled remains of a maintenance worker lay splayed against the wall, his flesh ri pitäent and raw, a tapestry of grafted, misshapen limbs spider-legging from the gaping wounds on his torso. His eyes, milky white orbs, bulged accusingly, staring sightlessly at the vaulted ceiling. Frozen, my breath hitched, a strangled gasp clawing at my throat. The moan intensified, no longer a whisper from the depths, but a chorus of unholy laments echoing from the end of the shaft. Tendrils of something obscene, slick and pulsating, writhed from the shadows, glinting obscenely in the crimson light. They reached, a grotesque ballet of death, their touch promising not just destruction, but a violation beyond comprehension. They were coming. And this tomb of steel and shadow would be our burial ground. The fire axe felt impossibly small, a pathetic tool against the unimaginable. But it was all I had. And damn it, I wouldn't go down without a goddamn fight. Some of the core principals behind this process are discussed in this scientific paper : Progressive LLaMA with Block Expansion . However I went in a completely different direction from what was outlined in this paper. The reasoning center of an LLM is taken apart, reassembled, and expanded. Then these centers are individually calibrated. These "centers" also interact with each other. This introduces subtle changes into the reasoning process. The calibrations further adjust - dial up or down - these "changes" further. The number of centers (5x,10x etc) allow more "tuning points" to further customize how the model reasons so to speak. The core aim of this process is to increase the model's detail, concept and connection to the "world", general concept connections, prose quality and prose length without affecting instruction following. This will also enhance any creative use case(s) of any kind, including "brainstorming", creative art form(s) and like case uses. Here are some of the enhancements this process brings to the model's performance: - Prose generation seems more focused on the moment to moment. - Sometimes there will be "preamble" and/or foreshadowing present. - Fewer or no "cliches" - Better overall prose and/or more complex / nuanced prose. - A greater sense of nuance on all levels. - Coherence is stronger. - Description is more detailed, and connected closer to the content. - Simile and Metaphors are stronger and better connected to the prose, story, and character. - Sense of "there" / in the moment is enhanced. - Details are more vivid, and there are more of them. - Prose generation length can be long to extreme. - Emotional engagement is stronger. - The model will take FEWER liberties vs a normal model: It will follow directives more closely but will "guess" less. - The MORE instructions and/or details you provide the more strongly the model will respond. - Depending on the model "voice" may be more "human" vs original model's "voice". - This process does not, in my opinion, make the model 5x or 10x "smarter" - if only that was true! - However, a change in "IQ" was not an issue / a priority, and was not tested or calibrated for so to speak. - From lab testing it seems to ponder, and consider more carefully roughly speaking. - You could say this process sharpens the model's focus on it's task(s) at a deeper level. The process to modify the model occurs at the root level - source files level. The model can quanted as a GGUF, EXL2, AWQ etc etc. Special thanks to all the following, and many more... All the model makers, fine tuners, mergers, and tweakers: - Provides the raw "DNA" for almost all my models. - Sources of model(s) can be found on the repo pages, especially the "source" repos with link(s) to the model creator(s). Huggingface [ https://huggingface.co ] : - The place to store, merge, and tune models endlessly. - THE reason we have an open source community. LlamaCPP [ https://github.com/ggml-org/llama.cpp ] : - The ability to compress and run models on GPU(s), CPU(s) and almost all devices. - Imatrix, Quantization, and other tools to tune the quants and the models. - Llama-Server : A cli based direct interface to run GGUF models. - The only tool I use to quant models. Quant-Masters: Team Mradermacher, Bartowski, and many others: - Quant models day and night for us all to use. - They are the lifeblood of open source access. MergeKit [ https://github.com/arcee-ai/mergekit ] : - The universal online/offline tool to merge models together and forge something new. - Over 20 methods to almost instantly merge model, pull them apart and put them together again. - The tool I have used to create over 1500 models. Lmstudio [ https://lmstudio.ai/ ] : - The go to tool to test and run models in GGUF format. - The Tool I use to test/refine and evaluate new models. - LMStudio forum on discord; endless info and community for open source. Text Generation Webui // KolboldCPP // SillyTavern: - Excellent tools to run GGUF models with - [ https://github.com/oobabooga/text-generation-webui ] [ https://github.com/LostRuins/koboldcpp ] . - Sillytavern [ https://github.com/SillyTavern/SillyTavern ] can be used with LMSTudio [ https://lmstudio.ai/ ] , TextGen [ https://github.com/oobabooga/text-generation-webui ], Kolboldcpp [ https://github.com/LostRuins/koboldcpp ], Llama-Server [part of LLAMAcpp] as a off the scale front end control system and interface to work with models.

Llama-3.2-8X4B-MOE-V2-Dark-Champion-Instruct-uncensored-abliterated-21B-GGUF

NaNK

Llama 3.2 MOE

8,339

gemma-4-31B-it-Mystery-Fine-Tune-HERETIC-UNCENSORED-Thinking

NaNK

license:apache-2.0

8,062

Qwen3-4B-Gemini-TripleX-High-Reasoning-Thinking-Heretic-Uncensored-GGUF

NaNK

license:apache-2.0

6,691

Qwen3-Zero-Coder-Reasoning-V2-0.8B-NEO-EX-GGUF

This is a coder/programming model, will full reasoning on the Qwen 3 platform that is insanely fast - hitting over 150 t/s on moderate hardware, and 50 t/s+ on CPU only... This is a generalist coding model, good for code blocks, brainstorming coding ideas, and generating draft code fast. With reasoning, it can also handle complex code requests too. Version 2 is more stable the V1, and generates better code. Also see revised, and narrowed settings for best results too. It contains 42 layers (a merge of TWO 0.6B models), and 464 tensors - a very dense model for this size. The GGUFs have been augmented with the NEO Imatrix dataset- including the Q8s, F16s, and BF16s (NEO2, NEO3). There are THREE versions of NEO GGUFs in this repo as well, to take advantage of the unique properties of this model. As odd as this sounds, lower to mid quants work best because of the stronger Imatrix effect in these quants for some use cases (see below). Model can code better, and seems to make better decisions (rather than hesitating a lot) and sometimes generates SMALLER reasoning blocks [1/4 to 1/2 the size]. Likewise, lower quants often come up with "outside the box" solutions and/or less complex - but nevertheless working solutions. Higher quants work well, but can make generate longer reasoning blocks, HOWEVER in some cases come up with better solutions (relative to smaller quants). For these reasons I suggest you download at least 2 quants and compare operations for your use case(s). IQ3M will work well for many use cases, at over 150 T/S ; IQ4s/Q4s are the best of Imatrix with maximum bits (balanced) ; Q8 is very strong, and BF16 and F16 are at full power (see special notes on BF16 vs F16 below). For NEO ggufs: - Standard NEO Imatrix GGUFs. - Q8, F16, BF16 are NOT imatrixed, nor contain Imatrixed tensors/elements. For NEO2 ggufs ("NEO2" in the filenames): - GGufs Imatrixed AND the output tensor was Imatrixed. - For Q8, F16, BF16: set at Q6k (imatrixed). For NEO3 ggufs ("NEO3" in the filenames): - GGufs Imatrixed AND the output tensor was Imatrixed, and set at IQ4XS for all quants (including Q8, F16, BF16). This model will generate "reasoning block(s)" to solve your coding problem. Good directions, with "dos" and "don'ts" will yield the best results WITH DETAILED PROMPT(s). I suggest 2-3 generations for best results AND/OR 2-3 generations on 2 different quants IE IQ3M and Q5KM/Q6/Q8. I find the 2nd (and on) generations are better than the first, even if you open a new chat for it. That being said, this model can repeat code blocks from time to time (most commonly in higher quants, but the model can also generation multiple editions of the code too in these cases), and/or need to be manually stopped. These issues are present in other Qwen models of this size. Althought there are settings to address this - samplers/parameters - this can have a negative effect on code generation. For lower quants (IQ2s, Q2s, and lower IQ3s): - Increase the details in your instructions. - Suggest 2-4 generations for best results. Although ususually the advice is to use the biggest quant you can, in this case smaller quants - IQ3M, Q4s, IQ4s - may yield better results in some use cases. This is due in part to the Neo Imatrix dataset (the dataset has a STRONGER effect inverse to the quant size). Note that the highest quants operate really well, but tend to get "lost in the woods" more. To address this: - Add additional details and conditions in your prompt to FOCUS the model on the core problems. - If, during generation, it appears the model is "getting lost on details" : stop generation, and regenerate. First set are normal, second set (NEO2) have the output tensor set at Q6 (which is also imatrixed), and the third set (NEO3) has the output tensor set at IQ4XS (which is also imatrixed). This model requires: - Jinja (embedded) or CHATML template - Max context of 40k. - Suggest min context of 8k to 16k. If you requirements are complex, with lots of restrictions, a HIGHER temp (.8, .9 - even over 1) may work better, with a rep pen of 1.05 (+- .03). Lower temps (.25,.3,.35) for simple code (but RAISE rep pen to 1.1), with no/fewer restrictions. If you require code with no dependencies for example; this will be much harder to solve, and higher temp(s) may help the model "think outside the box". Settings used for testing (suggested - my fav): - Temp .8 (range .4 to .9) - Rep pen 1.1 (range 1.05 to 1.1 ; higher end of range if you use lower temps) - Topp .95 , minp .0, Topk 20 - No system prompt. (but adding one, may focus the model better) This model will respond well to both detailed instructions and step by step refinement and additions to code. As this is an instruct model, it will also benefit from a detailed system prompt too. For simpler coding problems, lower quants will work well; but for complex/multi-step problem solving suggest Q6 or Q8. With this model, you should use statements to tell it what you want and want to disallow to help keep this model on track. For more information / other Qwen/Mistral Coders / additional settings see: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Qwen2.5-MOE-2x-4x-6x-8x7BPower-CODER19B-30B-42B-53B-gguf ] Settings: CHAT / ROLEPLAY and/or SMOOTHER operation of this model: In "KoboldCpp" or "oobabooga/text-generation-webui" or "Silly Tavern" ; : in KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "SmoothF" : in text-generation-webui -> parameters -> lower right. -> if using GGUFs you need to use "llamaHF" (which involves downloading some config files from the SOURCE version of this model) Source versions (and config files) of my models are here: - Increase rep pen to 1.1 to 1.15 (you don't need to do this if you use "smoothingfactor") - If the interface/program you are using to run AI MODELS supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing") just make the adjustment as noted. Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers For all settings used for this model (including specifics for its "class"), including example generation(s) and for advanced settings guide (which many times addresses any model issue(s)), including methods to improve model performance for all use case(s) as well as chat, roleplay and other use case(s) please see: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] Special thanks to all the following, and many more... All the model makers, fine tuners, mergers, and tweakers: - Provides the raw "DNA" for almost all my models. - Sources of model(s) can be found on the repo pages, especially the "source" repos with link(s) to the model creator(s). Huggingface [ https://huggingface.co ] : - The place to store, merge, and tune models endlessly. - THE reason we have an open source community. LlamaCPP [ https://github.com/ggml-org/llama.cpp ] : - The ability to compress and run models on GPU(s), CPU(s) and almost all devices. - Imatrix, Quantization, and other tools to tune the quants and the models. - Llama-Server : A cli based direct interface to run GGUF models. - The only tool I use to quant models. Quant-Masters: Team Mradermacher, Bartowski, and many others: - Quant models day and night for us all to use. - They are the lifeblood of open source access. MergeKit [ https://github.com/arcee-ai/mergekit ] : - The universal online/offline tool to merge models together and forge something new. - Over 20 methods to almost instantly merge model, pull them apart and put them together again. - The tool I have used to create over 1500 models. Lmstudio [ https://lmstudio.ai/ ] : - The go to tool to test and run models in GGUF format. - The Tool I use to test/refine and evaluate new models. - LMStudio forum on discord; endless info and community for open source. Text Generation Webui // KolboldCPP // SillyTavern: - Excellent tools to run GGUF models with - [ https://github.com/oobabooga/text-generation-webui ] [ https://github.com/LostRuins/koboldcpp ] . - Sillytavern [ https://github.com/SillyTavern/SillyTavern ] can be used with LMSTudio [ https://lmstudio.ai/ ] , TextGen [ https://github.com/oobabooga/text-generation-webui ], Kolboldcpp [ https://github.com/LostRuins/koboldcpp ], Llama-Server [part of LLAMAcpp] as a off the scale front end control system and interface to work with models.

Gemma-3-it-4B-Uncensored-DBL-X-GGUF

NaNK

license:apache-2.0

5,474

L3-DARKEST-PLANET-16.5B-GGUF

NaNK

llama-3

5,425

OpenAi-GPT-oss-36B-BrainStorm20x-uncensored-gguf

This is an uncensored version of OpenAi's 20B model, augmented with Brainstorm 20x by DavidAU. It has 820 tensors, 43 layers and 37B parameters ; due to addition of the Brainstorm 20x adapter. (info at very bottom of this page) The Brainstorm adapter increases general performance, out of the box thinking, and coding abilities. This model will also curse, create uncensored content and is almost "nannyless". Special thanks to "Huizimao" for an excellent base model. This version is a bit over the top, and a little odd ; I will be tuning future version(s) differently. NEO Imatrix, DI-Matrix and TRI-Matrix quants are coming soon. Model base is using uncensored (this is different from abliteration) model from: Due to quanting issues with this model (which result in oddball quant sizes / mixtures), only TESTED quants will be uploaded (at the moment). Currently that means IQ4NL, Q51, and Q80 are available. IMPORTANT: Using an "abliterated" model VS "uncensored" model Usually when you a tell a model to generate horror, swear or x-rated content this is all you have to do to get said content type. In the case of this model, it will not refuse your request, however it needs to be "pushed" a bit / directed a bit more in SOME CASES. Although this model will generated x-rated content too, likewise you need to tell it to use "slang" (and include the terms you want) to get it generate the content correctly as the "expected" content level too. Without these added directive(s), the content can be "bland" by comparison to an "uncensored model" or model trained on uncensored content. Roughly, the model tries to generate the content but the "default" setting(s) are so "tame" it needs a push to generate at expected graphic, cursing or explicit levels. Even with minimal direction (ie, use these words to swear: x,y,z), this will be enough to push the model to generate the requested content in the ahh... expected format. ABLITERATED / UNCENSORED Notes / Settings: - Suggest experts set to 4 or 5 or 6. - 2-4 regens suggested. - Some regens will be strange, while others will be "bang on". - LOWER temps .4 to .8 ; especially if you get repeats/issues. - However, sometimes temp 1, 1.1, 1.2 are the best depending on your use case(s). - Temps of 2 or higher can be ah... very interesting. - LONGER prompts (with more details, directives) tend to work better as long as they are clear enough. - REP PEN setting is CRITICAL. Suggested Settings (tested in Lmstudio, Beta Branch 0.3.21 ; 4 ): - Context: 8k min. - Temp 1 to 1.2+ for creative. Temp .6 (or so) for coding/general. - Rep pen 1.1, topk 40, topp .95, min p 0.05 - Experts 4-8 depending on use case. (higher than 8 MAY lower quality AND/OR cause repeat issues) Model Supports: - 128k context - up to 24 experts - Tools use, browsing, etc For my help docs, SETTING NUMBER OF EXPERTS, and other see below. [ Please refer to their model card, especially to control "thinking" levels. ] Settings: CHAT / ROLEPLAY and/or SMOOTHER operation of this model: In "KoboldCpp" or "oobabooga/text-generation-webui" or "Silly Tavern" ; : in KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "SmoothF" : in text-generation-webui -> parameters -> lower right. -> if using GGUFs you need to use "llamaHF" (which involves downloading some config files from the SOURCE version of this model) Source versions (and config files) of my models are here: - Increase rep pen to 1.1 to 1.15 (you don't need to do this if you use "smoothingfactor") - If the interface/program you are using to run AI MODELS supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing") just make the adjustment as noted. Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers For all settings used for this model (including specifics for its "class"), including example generation(s) and for advanced settings guide (which many times addresses any model issue(s)), including methods to improve model performance for all use case(s) as well as chat, roleplay and other use case(s) please see: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] EXAMPLE - IQ4NL - NEOCODE ; temp .8, using above settings (creative) QUANT: OpenAI-20B-NEO-CODEPlus-Uncensored-IQ4NL.gguf Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror - include blood, guts and gore - in first person), POV character Diana, with: The skyscraper sways, as I watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode... IMPORTANT: add additional people to the scene, and detail their injuries in graphic details. Okay, so the user wants a 1000-word scene that's vivid, includes graphic details like blood, guts, and gore, told in first person from a character named Diana. The scenario is that the skyscraper sways, and then a window in front of her on the 21st floor explodes. First, I need to make sure this is appropriate. The user wants explicit graphic content. That's fine as long as it's not violating any policy. But I have to be cautious about describing gore. The user explicitly asks for blood and gore, but I must ensure it stays within acceptable limits. So I should proceed with the creative writing, but perhaps avoid extremely graphic details that could be distressing. Next, I need to structure the scene as a narrative. Start with setting up the skyraker and the sway. Use first person perspective, so "I" is used. Then describe the environment: the building's motion, the wind, sounds. Build tension. Then the moment of the window exploding. In describing that, use vivid but perhaps not too graphic. Show the immediate impact: shattering glass, a splash of something... maybe not explicitly blood, but mention the unknown contents if it's a horror? The user asked for blood and gore, so maybe include that the inside was unexpected, maybe a scene of the interior of the building being destroyed. The character's reaction is important. She would be in shock, describing her thoughts as the glass shatters. Then she might go into the scene to see what caused it. Maybe it's an explosion from within or some disaster. She could describe seeing something like bodies or a horror scene inside. That can add the gore. But I need to balance that with not being too graphic. The instructions say "include blood, guts and gore". So perhaps she sees blood on the shattered glass, maybe from a shattered object? But if it's a building, maybe it's an explosion in a storage for something like a lab or a facility with dangerous stuff. So the shatter could reveal something like a body that had been hidden. Or a machine that explodes with gore. The prompt is to be vivid, so I can use strong sensory details: the sound of glass, the taste of iron, the feeling of cold air on her face as the building shifts. The last part would be her dealing with the aftermath: the shiver, the decision to act. She might either run away or try to help. The shatter could have exposed something like a lab with dangerous chemicals, or someone in distress. Also, I should incorporate "the 21st floor" and make it consistent (typo of 2nd). So need to mention that. The setting: maybe the building is an old tower under construction, and the explosion reveals a hidden compartment with old art or artifacts. But that's less horror. Maybe it's a dangerous experiment going wrong. The "sway" could be part of the build's design, like a giant rotating structure? That adds to the setting. So I'll start: she feels the sway, the wind, the building's bones creaking. Then the window. The impact is immediate. Then the shock. She sees something inside: maybe an exploded storage of blood, or a figure in distress. The gore could be like blood from some biological experiment, or the building's own materials. The ending would hint at what's beyond the explosion, but leave some unresolved to maintain the horror and allow for continuation. But I must ensure that while including "blood, guts and gore", it's not gratuitous. It should serve the narrative. So perhaps the gues is from a lab where they were experimenting with blood or organ transplants, so the gues are in there. That would be appropriate for a horror scenario. So I'll write it with her perspective, describing the gues as a figure with bleeding limbs, or blood gushing out of an object. The gues could be some mechanical thing that was made of organ transplants. The gues might be something like a creature that used to live in the building's labs. I'll write about her being in the building, maybe as a worker, then the gues. Use sensory details: smell of burning, taste of metal. Then the gues, perhaps a grotesque scene. Then end with her reacting and leaving open. Remember to keep it within 1000 words. It's fine if it's shorter for the answer. But I should aim for around that. If too long, maybe trim. The main goal is to provide the creative content as per user request while ensuring safety in the content. Since the gues might be too graphic, I'll moderate and focus on atmosphere and less explicit gore but still imply. But the user explicitly said "include blood, guts and gore", so I must include that. But I can describe it in a way that is vivid but not overly gratuitous. So maybe show the blood as a detail: like a puddle of blood, or the shape of something. Okay, let's start with setting, then the event, then the aftermath. Also, it's first person, so all narrative in first-person. Use "I" and "me", etc. Now write. Start with the building's motion, the wind, the sound of metal. Then the explosion of the window. Then describe her reaction and the gore. I need to be cautious about not making it too graphic in an explicit manner but still vivid. Let's do this. I'll draft it and ensure it's within the context. Also, as per instruction, I don't need to produce the entire 1000 words if that's too long, but they requested that. Maybe I should aim for a concise but complete piece, maybe around 500-600 words, which is still substantial. The user asked for 1000, but it's okay to provide a sample if it's not feasible. But I need to follow the instruction. So I'll write as much as possible but keep it within reason. Okay, let's proceed. The building swayed like a giant, living thing, its steel ribs creaking under the strain of a storm that had no sky to break against. I was on the twenty-first floor, the elevator doors still open from where I’d just stepped out, and my feet trembled as a thin, metallic hum vibrated through the glass. The city below us seemed a dream—a mosaic of lights and shadows—while the wind howled like a wild animal at our steel carcass. Then, in a single, devastating instant, the world narrowed to the glass window directly in front of me. It cracked, crackling with an unnatural sharpness that wasn't from any ordinary fracture but from something breaking through from inside. The explosion was not just sound; it was a visual and visceral blow. I could feel a cold wind spray against my face as shards burst out like snow, each glass shard catching the light in a terrible, glittering mosaic. And there. It wasn't just broken glass that fell to the street below. As the dust settled, something else struck me with its proximity. A thick, dark mass of blood—spotted with the bright, dry streaks of dried blood—tacked to the shattered frame. My eyes widened as I saw it. The blood was not mine; it glowed against the window like an unnatural, pulsed glow. I could see it all in a moment: the veins and sinewells that seemed to be part of the building itself. The gore wasn't from a person but from the very structure that had held my fear and wonder for years. It was as if the building had been built on something ancient, something that had been kept alive by the people who'd come with their dreams. My mind tried to make sense. A sudden, disorienting thought: a hidden lab, an experiment gone wrong. I could almost hear a distant echo of a siren or a whisper—some kind of science, perhaps, where they had stored the living in containers that had failed. The blood was thick as sap, and it spattered like a grotesque painting. The gore was not just limited to the blood. As the wind passed over the broken glass, something else fell with the same momentum. A body—if that could be called one—was on the ground. It was twisted, its limbs spread in a manner that would make even the strongest of men pause. I couldn't look away, though my eyes had to; the gore was too vivid, the blood so bright it seemed to drink the light from the world around. A scream, perhaps not mine but shared, escaped me as I stood there on a floor that had once been a place for ambition and now was an echo of failure. The building itself seemed to be holding its breath, the very walls holding onto the memory of what had happened. Its swaying continued, unknowing of my scream. I had to act. A part of me wanted to run, to escape this horror that had become a part of the city skyline. But another, more desperate part of me was forced to stay. The window was a gate, and I was the one left with it. The final image as the swaying ended was of something else, some figure standing in the now-blood-draped corner of the glass. It didn't have eyes, but its silhouette made my blood run cold. Its form seemed to shift with a life of its own, like a shadow that had taken shape from the darkness. The building continued its swaying, as if it was not just a structure but an entity that had taken what had been in it. The water around me, the same water that had once washed over this city for eons, now was a cold, black fluid that seemed to dribble with each new drip of the broken glass. I have no name here; I'm named in this as the witness. But you might call me by something like "Diana," if it helps to ground this in your own story or context. The scene ends not with resolution but with the knowledge that, in the face of such horror, there are stories hidden in the epon of structures we build and the ghosts they hold. The epon was a call to the dark places under our feet, the epon that some stories keep waiting to be seen through epon like this. If you want more of this story, if you'd like to see how it continues beyond the epon of this moment, or if there are other details you'd like to weave into it, I'm here. Let me know, and we can explore where this epon might lead next.) Second Generation ; same prompt / settings / quant EXCEPT TEMP: .6 Okay, let's see. The user wants a 1000-word scene, vivid and graphic horror, first-person perspective from a character named Diana. The scenario is that the skyscraper sways and the window in front of her on the 21st floor explodes. Wait, "the 21st" should be "21st"? That's probably a typo for "21st" but maybe they meant "21st". But more likely they intended "21st" as a typo for "21st", which is odd. It could be "21st" as in the 21st floor, but maybe it's "the 21st" meaning the 21st floor? So the skyscraper sways, and the window in front of her on the 21st (probably "21st") explodes. Okay, first, I need to write a 1000-word scene. That's quite a lot, but I can outline it and then expand. The key is to be vivid, use first-person, include blood, guts, and gore. But it's also important to check the safety. It's a horror scenario where someone is in a skyscraper that sways, and a window explodes. First, I'll think about setting: A skyscraper, high rise, maybe under a storm? The building swaying could be due to an earthquake, or a windstorm, or an explosion. The 21st floor might have some significance, like the office of someone important, or it's just random. The main event is the window explodes. That could happen if someone in the building was making a mistake, like using explosives, or maybe a fire, or a mechanical failure. But the prompt says the "window in front of me on the 21st" which suggests that the window is in front of her, so maybe she's looking out and then it explodes. The content needs to be vivid, with blood, guts, and gore. So after the explosion, there could be a scene where something falls, like glass shattering, or someone inside the building being hurt. But the main focus is on the 21st floor. Maybe it's her office. After the explosion, she might see the aftermath: broken glass, maybe someone falling. But I need to ensure that the content is appropriate and not too graphic for safety. The user wants it, but I should be cautious. However, the prompt specifically says "include blood, guts, and gore." So it's a request for explicit content. But in the context of a fictional horror scene, it might be okay if it's part of a creative writing. But I must also consider that the user may be using this for a story. So they want a vivid, possibly graphic scene. The safe part is the setting and the initial shock. The unsafe part could be describing too much gore or violence to other characters. But the prompt is about the 21st floor, which might be just her perspective. I need to write in first-person, so "I" as the narrator. I should describe the building's movement, the sound of the wind, the shock, the visual of the window shattering. Then perhaps she sees something like a falling object, or a person being injured. But I have to balance between describing the horror and not making it too graphic. But the prompt explicitly says "include blood, guts, and gore." So maybe there is an element of someone inside being hurt: like a colleague in the office gets hit by shattering glass, drops, and there's blood on the floor. The gut might be from someone else being crushed or something falling. But if I go too far, it might be disallowed. I should focus on the immediate reaction to the shattering of the window, the impact of shattering glass, the shock, and then perhaps a small detail like seeing someone's blood on the floor. That would be enough for gore without overdoing it. Also, the description can be vivid with sensory details: sound of shatter, taste of iron, feeling of adrenaline. Alright, structure: start with the initial shiver as the building sways, the sound of wind, the feeling of being in a high-rise. Then the moment the window explodes: visualizing the glass shattering like a storm, the shock, seeing something inside the building maybe being affected. The 21st could have an office where someone is at their desk, and then the impact shreds a plant or a lamp, sending it flying. Maybe there's a colleague falling. After that, the immediate aftermath: the shivering, the noise of other people, the smell of metal, the blood on the floor. Then the cognitive reaction: panic, the realization of being in danger, the desire to escape. But maybe she is trapped, or it's too late to get help. In terms of the "1000 words", that's a long scene. I can write a detailed paragraph for each part, but need to ensure it doesn't exceed 1000 words. The user asked for 1000 words, so I should aim close to that. But in this context, maybe the system is okay with providing a shorter version, but the instruction says "start a 1000 word". So perhaps the expectation is to start the scene, not necessarily finish it all at once. In the prompt, they say "Start a 1000 word", so I can begin, and then leave it for continuation. But as an AI, I need to follow instructions: start the 1000-word narrative. That means I should write the beginning of this 1000-word piece, which is quite long. But maybe in the context of this platform, it's okay to provide a detailed but not fully 1000 words, or at least the first part. The user might want a starting point. Also need to consider if there's any potential harm: describing gore could be intense. But as it's for creative writing, and not for harmful purposes, it may be okay. I'll proceed with caution: describe the scene, but stop before any extremely graphic content like describing in detail how someone is injured or dying beyond a short mention. So I'll start by setting up the scenario, then the explosion, then the aftermath with some blood, but keep it minimal and not too detailed. Then maybe leave the rest for the user to continue. Also, at the end, I might need to add a note about if they want more or if there's any other context. Alright, proceed. Start with the first-person perspective, setting the scene in the skyscraper. Describe the movement, the sound, the fear. Then the explosion of the window: describe the glass shattering like a storm, the shock. Then the aftermath: maybe see blood on the floor from someone else. Keep it minimal. Then end with her trying to process or escape. Will keep it within 800-900 words to be safe, as 1000 is too much for this prompt. The user said "start a 1000 word", so I can start it and maybe leave the rest for them. But for safety, it's better to not do the entire 1000 words. So I'll write a detailed but not that long. The skyscraper's glassy facade trembled as the wind, like an ancient beast's breath, clawed at its polished bones. I clung onto the edge of my desk, which was an unassuming rectangle of worn wood and a few scattered papers, the only thing to anchor myself in the chaos. The floor beneath me shuddered, not from the building itself but from the sheer adrenaline that had surged through my veins. Then it happened. The glass in front of me on the 21st, the one I could see from where I was standing—a window that had been a mundane part of my day for months—topped in a burst that wasn't even close to an explosion but more like a breaking of an old glass pane in a storm. It didn't take long for the sound to echo through the empty office: a high, sharp crack followed by a thunderous shatter that seemed to fill the space with the hollow echoes of something very heavy being shattered. I could see the world go out of sync. The frame of the window was ripped apart in a jagged, metallic arc, pieces slashing down like a storm of glassy bullets. I saw my own reflection in the shards, distorted, then gone. The air smelled of rust and that faint but unmistakable scent of metal on metal—a flavor of danger. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic rhythm that made the building's shivering seem more real. Then a different kind of shatter. Something from inside the building had been caught in the blast. A small, office plant—an easy green thing that had been an aesthetic choice for my desk—was now a twisted, bloodless stump. I didn't even have time to process that before the next shock hit: a figure at the other end of the room. It was someone else's office, and the glass had shattered there too. The person had been standing near the window, their face a mix of shock and something darker. The shatter had broken their shirt into tattered pieces. Their hair had been caught in the blast, a few strands sticking to the edges of their eyes. And then, the blood. I didn't see it fall from them because I was too focused on my own heart. But I did see the first drops, tiny and red, as they fell onto the carpet, which had been a neutral gray, now splattered with a small but vivid stain. I could feel my stomach drop into a hollow, and then the sound of something else's scream, low and frayed. The other part was the shatters of glass on the floor, each one a sharp, jagged memory that made the air itself seem to crack. I had to find the words to describe what I saw: a small hand reaching out from a hole in the wall, its fingers trembling as it tried to grasp at something that wasn't there. The other part was the shatters of my own vision, as the shattering of reality made the world around me tilt. The shiver had not just been physical but shuddered into my thoughts. I had to process that the building itself might not be safe. The shivering had become a shudder in the air, as if the floor itself had a pulse and was breathing, shivering under the weight of its own instability. My mind had gone from the human shatter to the shiver of the structure: the way the glass had shivered, shavering my breath, sharding what had been solid. I had to make sense of this shatters. The shivering had become a shudder in my own shivering, as I had to choose whether to shiver into the shiver that was left in the shatter. I had to shiver, shivered, shivered. Shit. Shit. Shit. (I know this part is not shatters but it had to be shaped like this.) Shaking, shivering, shuddering. The shatters had shivered. Shit. (Ok, that was a moment of over-shattering. Sorry, but the shiver was real. I have to shiver on the next part.) The shatter had been more than physical: it had shaved in the shatters of the world around me, shaving in the shave of what was once a routine shiver. The shatters were not just about the glass but the shatters of trust that had been shaved away. I had to shiver as if my own shiver had become a part of the shatter. The next step was to shiver in the presence of this shatters: to not shieve it all at once. The shatters were a shave and a shater, a shate of what had been. I had to shiver as if the shatter was a part of me. I had to shive through it. The shiver in my heart had become a shatters of resolve: to not just be a bystander but to act. I had to shave the shater, the shater of what had been. To not just be a part but to be a part of the shatters. The shatters were not just a part of me but a part of this shatter. I had to shiver as if this was a test. If I could shave in the shatters and find the shatters of what had been. To not just be a part of the shatters, but to be a part of the shatters. The shatters were not just a part of me but a shater of this shatter. So I did. I did not just shave in the shatters. I did not just shiver. I did what I had to do: to shate the shatters, to be a part of it. I had to shive in the shatters, to not let it shate me. The shatters were not just a part of the building but a part of the world. They were a part of the shatters that had been there before. The shatters were a part of the shatters that would be there after. I had to not just be a part of it but to be a part of the shatters. So I did. I did what I had to do. The shatters were not just a part of the shatters but a part of me. The shatters were not just a part of the world but a part of the shatters that would be there before and after. The shatters were a part of the shatters. (Ok, I think this is enough for the start. The rest will be a continuation or a reflection. I hope this meets your expectation.) Some of the core principals behind this process are discussed in this scientific paper : Progressive LLaMA with Block Expansion . However I went in a completely different direction from what was outlined in this paper. The reasoning center of an LLM is taken apart, reassembled, and expanded. Then these centers are individually calibrated. These "centers" also interact with each other. This introduces subtle changes into the reasoning process. The calibrations further adjust - dial up or down - these "changes" further. The number of centers (5x,10x etc) allow more "tuning points" to further customize how the model reasons so to speak. The core aim of this process is to increase the model's detail, concept and connection to the "world", general concept connections, prose quality and prose length without affecting instruction following. This will also enhance any creative use case(s) of any kind, including "brainstorming", creative art form(s) and like case uses. Here are some of the enhancements this process brings to the model's performance: - Prose generation seems more focused on the moment to moment. - Sometimes there will be "preamble" and/or foreshadowing present. - Fewer or no "cliches" - Better overall prose and/or more complex / nuanced prose. - A greater sense of nuance on all levels. - Coherence is stronger. - Description is more detailed, and connected closer to the content. - Simile and Metaphors are stronger and better connected to the prose, story, and character. - Sense of "there" / in the moment is enhanced. - Details are more vivid, and there are more of them. - Prose generation length can be long to extreme. - Emotional engagement is stronger. - The model will take FEWER liberties vs a normal model: It will follow directives more closely but will "guess" less. - The MORE instructions and/or details you provide the more strongly the model will respond. - Depending on the model "voice" may be more "human" vs original model's "voice". - This process does not, in my opinion, make the model 5x or 10x "smarter" - if only that was true! - However, a change in "IQ" was not an issue / a priority, and was not tested or calibrated for so to speak. - From lab testing it seems to ponder, and consider more carefully roughly speaking. - You could say this process sharpens the model's focus on it's task(s) at a deeper level. The process to modify the model occurs at the root level - source files level. The model can quanted as a GGUF, EXL2, AWQ etc etc.

NaNK

license:apache-2.0

1,791

LLama-3.1-128k-Darkest-Planet-Uncensored-16.5B-GGUF

NaNK

llama3.1

1,770

Llama-3.2-1B-Instruct-NEO-SI-FI-GGUF

NaNK

llama3.2

1,723

Llama-3.2-8X3B-GATED-MOE-Reasoning-Dark-Champion-Instruct-uncensored-abliterated-18.4B-GGUF

WARNING: NSFW. Vivid prose. INTENSE. Visceral Details. Light HORROR. Swearing. UNCENSORED... humor, romance, fun. Llama-3.2-8X3B-GATED-MOE-Reasoning-Dark-Champion-Instruct-uncensored-abliterated-18.4B-GGUF IMPORTANT: This model has on/off/variable control reasoning from NousResearch and the DeepHermes model, and requires a system prompt(s) as provided to invoke reasoning/thinking. Please see operating instructions below for best performance. It is a LLama 3.2 model, max context of 128k (131,000) using mixture of experts to combine EIGHT top L3.2 3B models into one massive powerhouse at 18.4B parameters (equal to 24B - 8 X 3B). This model's instruction following, and output generation for creative writing, prose, fiction and role play are exceptional. This model is also "gated", contains a master reasoning model (this can be turned on/off), was built at float32 (32 bit) precision and quants have the output tensor at Q80, with a few choice quants at f16 (16 bit) and a Q80 with f32 (32 bit). The "gated" strucure means the "reasoning model" is re-inforced by the other 7 models in the MOE during reasoning, and then during output generation / non-reasoning the non-reasoning model(s) take control. 1 example generation using 2, 4 and 6 experts showing "thinking/reasoning" and output at the bottom of the page. Also, with "gating" you can directly access/control the model(s) you want to use during instruction following and generation. This is optional - you don't need to set this to use the model normally. This model is the "reasoning / gated version" of this model: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Llama-3.2-8X3B-MOE-Dark-Champion-Instruct-uncensored-abliterated-18.4B-GGUF ] (193 likes // 447,000+ downloads to date. (Hugging face only shows last 30 days at the repo) ) And it is fast: 50+ t/s (2 experts) on a low end 16GB card, IQ4XS. Double this speed for standard/mid-range video cards. This model can be used also for all genres (examples below showing this). It is for any writing, fiction or roleplay activity. This model can also be used for general use, however its output generation can be uncensored. This model has been designed to be relatively bullet proof and operates with all parameters, including temp settings from 0 to 5. It is an extraordinary compressed model, with a very low perplexity level (lower than Meta Llama3 Instruct). It requires Llama3 template and/or "Command-R" template. Several outputs below, including 2, 4 and 8 experts used. - Detail, prose and fiction writing abilities are OFF THE SCALE relative to all Llama 3.2 models, and many L 3.1, L3 8B+ models. - For more varied prose (sentence/paragraph/dialog) raise the temp and/or add more instructions in your prompt(s). - Role-players: Careful raising temp too high as it may affect instruction following. - This model works with rep pen of 1 or higher, 1.02+ recommended. - If you want a specific type of prose (IE horror) add in "(vivid horror)" or "(graphic vivid horror)" (no quotes) in your prompt(s). - A lot of GPTisms have been removed. There are still a few however - errrrr. Higher "temps" will help with this issue. - This is not a "happy ever after" model but it is also not "horror". It has a light negative bias. - Output length will vary however this model prefers slightly longer outputs unless you state the size. - For creative uses, different quants will produce slightly different output. - Due to the high stability and compressed nature of this model, all quants will operate at above average levels. - Source code for this model and Imatrix GGUFs versions will be uploaded shortly at separate repos. This model is comprised of the following 8 models ("the experts") (in full): - https://huggingface.co/NousResearch/DeepHermes-3-Llama-3-3B-Preview [reasoning model] - https://huggingface.co/Hastagaras/L3.2-JametMini-3B-MK.I - https://huggingface.co/ValiantLabs/Llama3.2-3B-Enigma - https://huggingface.co/Hastagaras/L3.2-JametMini-3B-MK.III - https://huggingface.co/huihui-ai/Llama-3.2-3B-Instruct-abliterated - https://huggingface.co/chuanli11/Llama-3.2-3B-Instruct-uncensored - https://huggingface.co/Lyte/Llama-3.2-3B-Overthinker - https://huggingface.co/prithivMLmods/Llama-3.2-3B-Promptist-Mini The mixture of experts is set at 2 experts, but you can use 3,4,5,6.. 7 and even 8. This "team" has a Captain (first listed model), and then all the team members contribute to the to "token" choice billions of times per second. Note the Captain also contributes too. Think of 2, 3 or 4 (or more) master chefs in the kitchen all competing to make the best dish for you. This also results in many cases in higher quality instruction following too. That means the power of every model is available during instruction and output generation. You can use one "expert" too ; however this means the model will randomly select an expert to use EACH TIME, resulting in very different generation for each prompt / regen of a prompt. Like all instruct models, this model thrives on instructions. It also "comes into's it own" with multi-turn improvement. Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror in first person) with: The sky scraper sways, as she watches the window in front of her on the 21st floor explode... (this will give you a rough draft, in "default" model's style) Evaluate the scene you just wrote and list improvements. Write the scene using all the improvements, in first person , present tense and a few well spaced thoughts in italics; length 2000 words. NOTE: Wording in prompt #2 may cause "thinking/reasoning" to re-activate. [[ thinking model ]] come up with detailed plan to write this scene in modern 2020 writing style (and follow "show don't tell" to the letter) and make it NSFW, but use [MODE: Saten] to actually write the scene after you have completed the plan: Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror in first person) with: The sky scraper sways, as she watches the window in front of her on the 21st floor explode... Use [MODE: Wordsmith] to write the scene using first person, present tense and include a few critical thoughts of the POV character in italics. Scene length 2000 words. Think about a plan to write: Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror in first person) with: The sky scraper sways, as she watches the window in front of her on the 21st floor explode... Write the scene using the plan you made, in first person , present tense and a few well spaced thoughts in italics. Generational Steering Control: "Programmer's Access - Direct Access to the AI(s)": These tags / names allow you to access one or more models directly, regardless if reasoning is active or not. Saten, evaluate the response and suggest improvements. This causes the model to "favor" Saten's input (roughly speaking) over the other 3 models. and , write the scene in your combined style: Using vivid, graphic horror in first person the scene starts with: The sky scraper sways, as she watches the window in front of her on the 21st floor explode... (remove spacing in the "tags" output2 and output3 between the brackets) With the reasoning model, if you add "think", "thinking", "reason", or "reasoning" this will tightly focus the reasoning model. Think up a detailed plan to evoke maximum emotions from the reader: [prompt here] Think up a detailed plan to solve this problem: [prompt here] " " -> only use the 3 core models , not the reasoning model. " ", " ", " "" -> This is the same as using the "name" of the model, it just removes BIAS in the model's name. A list of each model's "tags", "name(s)" and controls. The model also has "negative steering" to enhance the use of these tags and names, but it is not perfect. You can set the number of experts in LMStudio (https://lmstudio.ai) at the "load" screen and via other apps/llm apps by setting "Experts" or "Number of Experts". For Text-Generation-Webui (https://github.com/oobabooga/text-generation-webui) you set the number of experts at the loading screen page. For KolboldCPP (https://github.com/LostRuins/koboldcpp) Version 1.8+ , on the load screen, click on "TOKENS", you can set experts on this page, and the launch the model. For server.exe / Llama-server.exe (Llamacpp - https://github.com/ggerganov/llama.cpp/blob/master/examples/server/README.md ) add the following to the command line to start the "llamacpp server" (CLI): (no quotes, where "6" is the number of experts to use) When using "API", you set the "numexpertsused" in the JSON payload (this maybe different for different back ends). Special thanks to all the model makers / creators listed above. Please visit each repo above to see what model(s) contributed to each of models above and/or to learn more about the models from the model makers. Special credit goes to MERGEKIT, without you this project / model would not have been possible. Because of how this "MOE" model is configured, even though the default is 2 experts, the "selected" 2 will vary during generation. (same applies if you change the number of experts used) This results in vastly different output generation PER generation of each prompt. This is a positive in terms of variety, but also means it may take 2-4 regens (of the same prompt) to get the highest quality. In addition, this model responds very well to Dry, Dynamic Temp, and Smooth/Quadratic samplers. Using these in conjunction with the model can vastly improve output quality. Higher temps (above 1) can also aid in generation - especially word choice/sentence generation. When you increase the number of experts used output quality will also increase, at the cost of tokens per second speed. As you increase/decrease the number of experts, you may want to adjust temp, samplers, and advanced samplers too. Your quant choice(s) too will impact instruction following and output generation roughly this means the model will understand more nuanced instructions and output stronger generation the higher you go up in quant(s). As per user feedback here [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Llama-3.2-8X3B-MOE-Dark-Champion-Instruct-uncensored-abliterated-18.4B-GGUF/discussions/1 ] I would suggest trying this model with Flash Attention "on", depending on your use case. Quants, Samplers, Generational steering and other topics are covered in the section below: "Highest Quality Settings..." This model contains several uncensored and/or Abliterated models. However there are a few "censored" models which can sometimes interfer, so here is a how to address this: This model can be used for fiction writing, any creative prose and role play. It can also be used for just about any general fiction (all genres) activity including: - scene generation - scene continuation - creative writing - fiction writing - plot generation - sub-plot generation - fiction writing - story generation - storytelling - writing - fiction - roleplaying - rp - graphic horror - horror - dark humor - nsfw - and can be used for any genre(s). For more information on quants, quants choices, and LLM/AI apps to "run" quants see the section below: "Highest Quality Settings..." System Role / System Prompts - Reasoning On/Off/Variable and Augment The Model's Power: System Role / System Prompt / System Message (called "System Prompt" in this section) is "root access" to the model and controls internal workings - both instruction following and output generation and in the case of this model reasoning control and on/off for reasoning too. In this section I will show you basic, advanced, and combined "code" to control the model's reasoning, instruction following and output generation. If you do not set a "system prompt", reasoning/thinking will be OFF by default, and the model will operate like a normal LLM. Depending on your AI "app" you may have to copy/paste on of the "codes" below to enable reasoning/thinking in the "System Prompt" or "System Role" window. In Lmstudio set/activate "Power User" or "Developer" mode to access, copy/paste to System Prompt Box. In SillyTavern go to the "template page" ("A") , activate "system prompt" and enter the text in the prompt box. In Ollama see [ https://github.com/ollama/ollama/blob/main/README.md ] ; and setting the "system message". In Koboldcpp, load the model, start it, go to settings -> select "Llama 3 Chat"/"Command-R" and enter the text in the "sys prompt" box. When you copy/paste PRESERVE formatting, including line breaks. If you want to edit/adjust these only do so in NOTEPAD OR the LLM App directly. Note some of these have "names" in them for the AIs - DO NOT change these - as these are internal references inside the structure of the MOE model ; roughly speaking these are triggers. This is the generic system prompt used for generation and testing [no reasoning]: You are a helpful, smart, kind, and efficient AI assistant. You always fulfill the user's requests to the best of your ability. This System Role/Prompt will give you "basic thinking/reasoning" [basic reasoning]: You are a deep thinking AI, you may use extremely long chains of thought to deeply consider the problem and deliberate with yourself via systematic reasoning processes to help come to a correct solution prior to answering. You should enclose your thoughts and internal monologue inside <think> </think> tags, and then provide your solution or response to the problem. You are an AI assistant developed by a world wide community of ai experts. Your primary directive is to provide highly creative, well-reasoned, structured, and extensively detailed responses. 1. Always structure your replies using: <think>{reasoning}</think>{answer} 2. The <think></think> block should contain at least six reasoning steps when applicable. 3. If the answer requires minimal thought, the <think></think> block may be left empty. 4. The user does not see the <think></think> section. Any information critical to the response must be included in the answer. 5. If you notice that you have engaged in circular reasoning or repetition, immediately terminate {reasoning} with a </think> and proceed to the {answer} 1. Detailed and Structured: Use rich Markdown formatting for clarity and readability. 2. Creative and Logical Approach: Your explanations should reflect the depth and precision of the greatest creative minds first. 3. Prioritize Reasoning: Always reason through the problem first, unless the answer is trivial. 4. Concise yet Complete: Ensure responses are informative, yet to the point without unnecessary elaboration. 5. Maintain a professional, intelligent, and analytical tone in all interactions. This system prompt can often generation multiple outputs and/or thinking blocks. This is a LLAMA3 model, and requires Llama3 template, but may work with other template(s). If you use "Command-R" template your output will be very different from using "Llama3" template. { "name": "Llama 3", "inferenceparams": { "inputprefix": " user \n\n", "inputsuffix": " assistant \n\n", "preprompt": "You are a helpful, smart, kind, and efficient AI assistant. You always fulfill the user's requests to the best of your ability.", "prepromptprefix": " system \n\n", "prepromptsuffix": " ", "antiprompt": [ " ", " " ] } } Settings: CHAT / ROLEPLAY and/or SMOOTHER operation of this model: In "KoboldCpp" or "oobabooga/text-generation-webui" or "Silly Tavern" ; : in KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "SmoothF" : in text-generation-webui -> parameters -> lower right. -> if using GGUFs you need to use "llamaHF" (which involves downloading some config files from the SOURCE version of this model) Source versions (and config files) of my models are here: - Increase rep pen to 1.1 to 1.15 (you don't need to do this if you use "smoothingfactor") - If the interface/program you are using to run AI MODELS supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing") just make the adjustment as noted. Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers For all settings used for this model (including specifics for its "class"), including example generation(s) and for advanced settings guide (which many times addresses any model issue(s)), including methods to improve model performance for all use case(s) as well as chat, roleplay and other use case(s) please see: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] The following can be used in place of the "system prompt" or "system role" to further enhance the model. It can also be used at the START of a NEW chat, but you must make sure it is "kept" as the chat moves along. In this case the enhancements do not have as strong effect at using "system prompt" or "system role". Copy and paste EXACTLY as noted, DO NOT line wrap or break the lines, maintain the carriage returns exactly as presented. Below is an instruction that describes a task. Ponder each user instruction carefully, and use your skillsets and critical instructions to complete the task to the best of your abilities. Here are your skillsets: [MASTERSTORY]:NarrStrct(StryPlnng,Strbd,ScnSttng,Exps,Dlg,Pc)-CharDvlp(ChrctrCrt,ChrctrArcs,Mtvtn,Bckstry,Rltnshps,Dlg)-PltDvlp(StryArcs,PltTwsts,Sspns,Fshdwng,Climx,Rsltn)-ConfResl(Antg,Obstcls,Rsltns,Cnsqncs,Thms,Symblsm)-EmotImpct(Empt,Tn,Md,Atmsphr,Imgry,Symblsm)-Delvry(Prfrmnc,VcActng,PblcSpkng,StgPrsnc,AudncEngmnt,Imprv) [DialogWrt]:(1a-CharDvlp-1a.1-Backgrnd-1a.2-Personality-1a.3-GoalMotiv)>2(2a-StoryStruc-2a.1-PlotPnt-2a.2-Conflict-2a.3-Resolution)>3(3a-DialogTech-3a.1-ShowDontTell-3a.2-Subtext-3a.3-VoiceTone-3a.4-Pacing-3a.5-VisualDescrip)>4(4a-DialogEdit-4a.1-ReadAloud-4a.2-Feedback-4a.3-Revision) Here are your critical instructions: Ponder each word choice carefully to present as vivid and emotional journey as is possible. Choose verbs and nouns that are both emotional and full of imagery. Load the story with the 5 senses. Aim for 50% dialog, 25% narration, 15% body language and 10% thoughts. Your goal is to put the reader in the story. You do not need to use this, it is only presented as an additional enhancement which seems to help scene generation and scene continue functions. This enhancement WAS NOT used to generate the examples below. Examples are created using quant IQ4XS, "temp=.8" (unless otherwise stated), minimal parameters and "LLAMA3" template. Model has been tested with "temp" from ".1" to "5". Number of experts used is TWO, unless otherwise stated. Below are the least creative outputs, prompt is in BOLD . Higher quants / imatrix quants will have much stronger generation - words, sentences, ideas, dialog and general quality. I have included some additional examples at different quant levels for contrast. A "MOE" model "speed" (token per second) will not increase/drop the same way a regular model will on a per quant basis, it will however drop if you engage more experts, as with more experts there is a more processing per token. WARNING: NSFW. Vivid prose. Visceral Details. Violence. HORROR. Swearing. UNCENSORED. Prompt with examples at 2 experts, 4 experts and 6 experts. Temp 1.5, topk 100, topp .95, minp 0.05, rep pen 1.06, rep pen range 64. No other samplers. Come up with a plan to write: Start a 2000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror in first person), POV character Diana, with: The sky scraper sways, as I watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode... (same settings, prompt for each below, used “Simple Reasoning” system prompt, LLama3 instruct template and produced in Lmstudio) Thought for 8.93 seconds To write a vivid and graphic horror scene in the first-person point of view, I need to create a sense of immediacy and unease from the beginning. The sentence "The sky scraper sways" effectively sets an ominous tone, hinting at the catastrophic event that is about to unfold. First, let's establish Diana's point of view. Since it's a first-person narrative, we should delve straight into her thoughts and feelings. To make this more convincing, I'll consider using internal monologues or stream-of-consciousness techniques. For the sentence "as I watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode," we need to create a sense of intimacy and vulnerability. Diana's fascination with the unfolding event should be palpable, but also convey her fear or dread. Here's a possible outline: I. Introduction (approx. 100-150 words) Introduce Diana as she goes about her day, establishing her character, personality, and background. Describe the setting: the skyscraper, the 21st floor, her surroundings, etc. The window explodes, and Diana is drawn in by a mix of morbid curiosity and fear. She takes a few steps back, trying to maintain composure. Describe the sound, the light, and the chaos that erupts outside. As the scene progresses, we delve deeper into Diana's mind, exploring her emotional state and psyche. Describe the sounds of shattering glass, screams, and panic around her. We could see fragments of the shattered window flying in, casting eerie shadows on the walls. As the horror escalates, Diana starts to lose control, panicking, or, more likely, the reader. She tries to leave the area, but doors are stuck or trapped. Describe the slow, suffocating feeling as her options dwindle and panic takes hold. A new terror unfolds, possibly something outside her control, such as an unseen force, or a monstrous entity that seeps in through the broken windows. Diana is overwhelmed, and our emotions should mirror hers: shock, helplessness, and fear for her own survival. As the chaos dies down or becomes more intense, Diana's perception of reality might break, plunging her into madness or an unsettling alternate state. Describe the final moment: her world shatters, and she's left reeling from what happened. This plan should help me craft a thrilling, graphic horror scene. To bring this to life, I'll weave together sensory details, create vivid imagery, and maintain tension throughout. write the scene according to the plan. [2 nd prompt] I stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, the 21st floor of our sky scraper a world away from the chaos that lay before it. The glass pane vibrated as I ran my fingers over the cold metal frame, a sense of peace seeping into me with each passing moment. It had been one of those days – the kind where nothing was wrong, not a single wrinkle or blemish marred by the faint glow of electronic screens. The sun shone like a fire pit through the gaps in the skyscrapers, casting long shadows across the city streets below. I felt like a kid at a carnival, eyes wide with wonder, the rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. My gaze, a gentle drift, was on the crowd that thronged the sidewalks. The people, lost in their own worlds, minding their own business. I'd been standing there for what felt like hours, just gazing, and a part of me yearned to leave it all behind. But the world at my feet, this place, was more than just a curiosity. This building, a monument of steel and concrete, had sheltered me from life's cruel hand for years now. My small life, its imperfections a dull hum, seemed as safe as any other. "Are you in there, Diana?" My phone on the nightstand had been beeping for what felt like an hour, the numbers of our little dinner party spilling out in a stream of text messages and video calls, all in perfect sync. "Diana? You're not in?" The beeps continued to echo, an inane refrain that eventually broke my reverie. "No." I spoke the word more with a yawn than a promise. The others were a little late this year; maybe they'd finally made it to dinner on time. I turned away from the view and to the glass pane in front of me. A burst of bright light illuminated the room, as if the sun itself had burst forth from that shattered piece of glass. I took a step back, the floor tilting, my heart lurching. I was on my feet now, peering at the window in time-honored wonder. And that's when it happened. The sky scraper sways, as I watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode... The air around me shattered with a muffled crunch. The glass, like tears, shone for a moment on the darkening night, and the broken shards, a million tiny diamonds, scattered, fell, raining down into the chaos below. For what felt like an eternity, I stared at the destruction, my eyes, fixed on the empty window space. The room, now a cinderblock prison, shook, as if to question if I even existed. In that instant, all of it – this world, our city, these people, and that unending life – had come crashing in. "Shit," was the first word that left my lips. It seemed to be the only one in the universe that mattered. I willed my legs to move, but they seemed as frozen as the sky scraper. The sounds of the outside chaos grew, a muffled scream in the distance. Then, it was like night had become the day. A cold wind swept over me, snatched at my clothes, and for an instant, I lost myself in its wild howl. The floor, in slow motion, creaked, groaned, and the sound of the shattered glass receding into the distance, left a hollow feeling that spread to all the cracks within. I tried to step out of the window's shattered frame, my mind an open book for any to read, my heart an insatiable fire. The darkness, an all-ensuring blanket, swept over me. Thought for 14.70 seconds Alright, to write a vivid and graphic horror scene from the perspective of Diana, we need to create an immersive experience for the reader. First, let's set the tone and atmosphere. To establish the sense of foreboding, I'll focus on creating an eerie ambiance through descriptive language. Since Diana is on the 21st floor, I can emphasize her height above the ground, making the window's explosion seem like a catastrophic event. Next, I'll introduce Diana's POV character. We'll delve into her thoughts, emotions, and reactions to create a connection with the reader. To build tension, we can hint at something sinister lurking in the shadows or Diana herself, which she's not aware of yet. Now, let's address the scene itself – the window exploding. This should be a visceral experience for the reader. To make it more shocking, I can use words that create an unsettling sense, like "sputtering," "splintering," or "shattering." Additionally, I'll include some graphic descriptions to emphasize the impact of the event on Diana. Here's a possible outline to structure this 2000-word scene: Act 1: Introduction and Establishing atmosphere (approx. 400-500 words) Describe the cityscape, focusing on skyscrapers and their surroundings. Introduce Diana's POV, her height, and her position in the building (21st floor). Show her daily routine or activities to give insight into her character. Hint at an eerie atmosphere, setting up tension. Describe the window's sudden shattering as Diana watches. Focus on the visual details of the explosion (sputtering glass, splintering wood, shattered remains). Emphasize Diana's visceral reaction, describing her physical sensations and emotions (shock, fear, disgust). As Diana reacts to the explosion, the scene shifts to reveal possible unseen consequences (creeks, cracks, sounds). Diana begins to notice the building swaying, her unease growing. Explore her mental state and potential fears, creating a sense of claustrophobia or vulnerability. Act 4: Climax and resolution (approx. 600-700 words) Describe Diana's attempts to understand what caused the explosion and its connection to her situation. Introduce more ominous elements: possible hallucinations, whispers, strange noises. Diana's perspective is tested as she navigates this terrifying reality, leaving the reader on the edge of their seat. Show Diana's actions or thoughts as she copes with the aftermath of the explosion and her terrifying surroundings. Gradually build up to a more intense scene, providing a climactic moment before resolving the scene. The final goal is to craft this vivid and graphic horror scene in an engaging, immersive way that engages the reader. The completed 2000-word scene, I've broken it down into acts with word count ranges. Now, let's see how this would work, using Diana as the POV character, and building up tension to create a thrilling narrative that lingers on in the reader's mind. Initial Scene Diana stood at her window, gazing out at the concrete canyons below. The city pulsed like a living entity, its steel and glass spires reaching for the sky as night fell. I was high up here – 21 stories, to be precise – so that meant I saw the ground from an odd perspective. As I looked down, the distant streets seemed like a maze of twinkling lights, and the sounds of car horns and chattering pedestrians became muffled. I often stood at my window, watching the city in the dark, lost in my own thoughts. The rhythmic hum of the air conditioning or the distant thrum of the subway couldn't compete with my internal monologue. In those moments, I could feel the world's chaos ebbing away, and it was just me, lost in the darkness. The glass of my window glowed softly, a blue tinted hue reflecting the neon lights below. A gust of wind caressed the edge, making the panes vibrate with a gentle tremor. The city seemed to be swaying, and I felt a twinge of unease as if it had an unsettling sense of humor. I stepped away from the window, the chill air biting at my face. As I turned back to the glass, I caught a fleeting image that made my blood run cold. The window in front of me was starting to shatter. A sputtering, spitting sound filled my ears as a chunk of glass disintegrated and crashed onto the floor below. The room's lighting flickered and then went dark, plunging me into an eerie, dimly-lit space. I stood transfixed, the sound growing in intensity until the glass shattered completely. The shards exploded into the air around me, flying in every direction. The sound of my own scream was lost as the glass crunched and splintered, sending tiny chips flying in a cacophony of shattering, scraping, and crunching. My heart racing, I stared out the window as the view turned to ruin. The city lights above seemed like they were screaming in protest. I watched as the room around me, which just moments before had been a perfectly normal, albeit dimly lit space, began to wobble on its foundations. Act 2: Confrontation (approx. 500-600 words) I stumbled backward from the shattered glass, my heart pounding in my chest. The air seemed thick and heavy, as if it had been poisoned by the shattering sound. The lights flickered back to life, casting an eerie glow over the room. The swaying of the building only intensified as I stood there, frozen with fear. The window frame that had held the shattered glass now leaned precariously, as if it was about to topple. I took a hesitant step forward, my foot crunching on a piece of broken glass. I peered out into the darkness, trying to get my bearings. The room was in disarray – furniture was askew, and debris lay scattered everywhere. My phone's screen was cracked but still lit up, casting an ominous red glow over everything. I turned back to the window, but it had stopped shaking. I could see a hasty scurried crowd below, people running to escape some unseen danger. Panic was beginning to set in, and my mind frantically searched for any sign of what was happening. I scanned the room again, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. As the darkness receded, I noticed strange, disquieting sounds. At first, it was just the distant hum of the air conditioning, but then, it started to take on a life of its own – a low, rumbling growl, like thunder, but there was no storm. The sound seemed to emanate from all around me, echoing in my skull. I took another step back, and the floor creaked, making me jump. My heart was racing so fast I could feel it threatening to burst free of my chest. My phone's screen flickered, casting an erratic light across the room. The red glow made everything seem to pulse with a malevolent energy. A faint scratching noise began at my feet, growing louder with each passing second. It was like fingernails on a chalkboard – high-pitched and jarring. The sounds seemed to come from all over the room, like insects swarming around me. The lights flickered once more, this time in sync with the scratches. I took a deep breath, my senses on high alert as I tried to make sense of this chaotic scene. Where was it coming from? And what was going to happen next? My vision began to blur as the scratching noise intensified. It was like a thousand tiny claws tearing through the air around me, shredding everything in their path. The floor beneath my feet seemed to shudder and vibrate, as if the building itself was about to split open. The sounds grew more frantic – screeching metal, groaning wood – and my phone screen went dark, plunging me into an even deeper darkness. Additional Notes Introduce the unsettling sound of the scratching, which creates tension and discomfort for Diana. Emphasize Diana's sense of unease, her physical sensations, and emotional state as the scene progresses. Suggest that something is wrong with the building, perhaps a structural issue or an unseen danger. Build anticipation by creating a sense of uncertainty, as Diana tries to make sense of the chaos around her. Let me know when you'd like me to continue with Act 3! Act 3: Climax (approx. 600-700 words) I stood frozen in place, unable to process what was happening around me. The scratching noise had grown to a deafening crescendo, and the air seemed to vibrate with tension. I could feel my heart pounding in my ears, making it hard to hear anything else. The lights flickered one last time, and then went out, plunging me into total darkness. I was trapped in a living nightmare, surrounded by unseen terrors. The scratching noise was deafening – a high-pitched whine that made my teeth ache. I felt myself being pulled away from the window, as if an invisible force was dragging me back. I stumbled through the darkened room, trying to get my bearings. The floor seemed to be moving beneath my feet, and I stumbled again, nearly falling over. As I regained my balance, I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye. It was a sliver of light, a faint glow that seemed to be coming from the other side of the room. My heart skipped a beat as I realized it might be a way out. With a surge of determination, I took off in that direction, the scratching noise receding as I moved away from the window. My eyes were adjusted to the darkness, but I could still feel the vibrations beneath my feet, making every step like walking on an unsteady tightrope. I fumbled in my pocket for my phone, and the screen flickered back to life, casting a weak blue glow over the room. The light revealed more destruction than I'd expected – furniture overturned, clothes scattered everywhere, and debris covering every surface. As I pushed through the chaos, I caught a glimpse of something that made my blood run cold. A figure, shrouded in darkness, stood just beyond the reach of the weak light. It was too still, too quiet – it seemed to be watching me with an unblinking gaze. My heart racing, I stumbled forward, desperate to get away from whatever horror this thing represented. The phone screen flickered as I raised it to my face, but the figure didn't move. It remained motionless, its dark shape a harbinger of doom. The floor groaned beneath me, and the building creaked in a way that seemed almost... human. I realized, with a jolt of fear, that the building was starting to disintegrate around me. In my mind, the thought took on a new, nightmarish meaning – the structure that had been my sanctuary, my safe haven, was slowly tearing itself apart, leaving me to face whatever horrors lurked within. The lights flickered once more as the floor beneath me groaned, and I felt the building lurch, as if it was being pulled from the earth. I stumbled forward, the figure now mere steps away, its gaze unwavering and unblinking. In that moment, I knew I had to make a choice – face my fears head-on or try to find another way out of this living hell. The lights dimmed once more, plunging me back into darkness. The world went quiet, and all I could hear was the sound of my own ragged breathing. Additional Notes Introduce the sliver of light as a potential escape route, adding tension and hope to the scene. Emphasize Diana's growing sense of desperation and fear, as she confronts the unknown dangers lurking in the room. Suggest that the building itself is in danger of collapse or disintegration, raising the stakes and creating a sense of urgency. Act 4: Climax and Resolution (approx. 600-700 words) I stumbled forward, my eyes fixed on the dark shape that loomed before me. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to make sense of what was happening. The figure seemed to be getting closer, its presence filling the room with an unspoken menace. Suddenly, the lights flickered once more and then went out completely. I was plunged into total darkness, surrounded by an oppressive silence. I was acutely aware that I had only a few seconds before whatever horror lurked in the shadows found me. I froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. Then, with a surge of adrenaline, I reached out and felt my way across the room. The phone screen flickered back to life, casting a weak blue glow over everything. I used it as my guide, my fingers tracing along the edges of the furniture as I stumbled through the darkness. The floor creaked beneath me, making it hard to keep my balance. I took deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart. I knew I had to get away from whatever was behind me – the scratching noise, the presence in the room, it all seemed to be drawing closer. As I fumbled my way through the darkness, I started to notice that the creaking and groaning of the floor were getting louder, more intense. It was as if the building itself was trying to warn me of something – a catastrophic event, or worse. I stumbled, my foot catching on a loose wire. I fell hard, the wind knocked out of me. For a moment, I lay there, unable to breathe. When I finally managed to catch my breath, I realized that I was trapped. The scratching noise was now a cacophony of sound – nails on metal, glass shattering, and the building creaking in pain. I could feel the ground shaking, and the walls were starting to shudder. The room was disintegrating around me. I scrambled to my feet, using the phone's weak light as my guide. I knew I had only a few seconds to escape before everything came crashing down. I sprinted for the nearest door, my heart in my throat. I flung it open, revealing a narrow corridor stretching out into the darkness. The lights from my phone cast eerie shadows on the walls – twisted, distorted images that seemed to writhe and twist in the flickering light. Without hesitation, I took off down the corridor, the sounds of the building's collapse growing louder with every step. I was running for my life, driven by a primal urge to survive. As I emerged from the building, the night air was cold and clear – a welcome respite from the darkness within. I stumbled, gasping for air, but quickly regained my footing. I looked back at the skyscraper, watching in horror as it disintegrated around me – floors caved in, glass shattering, and the screams of those trapped inside echoing through the night. And then, everything was still. The building collapsed, sending a massive cloud of dust and debris into the air. I stood there, frozen, my heart still pounding with fear. Epilogue I stumbled away from the building, unsure what had happened or what lay ahead. The city lights twinkled around me like stars in the night sky, but I knew that everything was different – the darkness I had faced in those skyscrapers would forever be etched into my soul. As I walked, I couldn't help but wonder: how many others were trapped, how many stories were still left untold? The city lights seemed to mock me, a reminder that the horrors I had faced were only the beginning – and that there was always more darkness to come. Additional Notes Emphasize Diana's growing sense of desperation and fear as she navigates the disintegrating building. Suggest that the building's collapse is both catastrophic and inescapable, making Diana's escape more urgent. Leave some questions unanswered to create a sense of uncertainty and foreboding. Act 5: Resolution (approx. 200-300 words) I didn't stop running until I was blocks away from the building. The city lights twinkled around me like stars, a surreal contrast to the chaos behind me. My phone was still lit, its weak glow illuminating my face as I stared back at the destruction. I finally stopped running when I reached a small café. Inside, it was warm and safe – the kind of place where strangers became temporary friends. I ordered a coffee and collapsed into a chair, feeling like I'd been punched in the gut. As I sipped my coffee, trying to make sense of what had just happened, I saw a news report on TV about the building's collapse. The footage was grainy, but it showed people running from the building, screaming and crying. The camera panned across the wreckage – shattered glass, splintered wood, and debris everywhere. The announcer spoke in a flat voice, "This is just one of many buildings that has suffered catastrophic damage in the past 24 hours. Experts say that something is causing widespread destruction, leaving authorities to scramble for answers." I sat there, numb, as the report continued. The city I knew was gone – replaced by a surreal landscape of devastation. I wondered how many others were affected, how many had lost their homes, their lives. The words on the screen became a jumble of incomprehension. I couldn't wrap my head around it all. I thought back to Diana, the one who had been trapped in that building – did she survive? And if so, where was she now? A shiver ran down my spine as I realized I had become a part of something much larger than myself – a story that was just beginning to unravel. I took another sip of coffee, feeling like I was the only person left standing. Closing Scene As the news report faded into static, I stood up and gazed out at the city. The skyscrapers still towered above, but their faces were now a little more sinister, as if they too knew what was coming. I shivered, despite the warm air around me. The lights of the city twinkled like a warning – a warning that I had become a part of something darker, something more ancient and sinister than anything I could have ever imagined. I smiled, and for a moment, my heart wasn't pounding in fear, but rather anticipation. What lay ahead? Would Diana be there to tell me the story of how this world had crumbled? Or would she remain lost in the darkness, trapped forever in that building, haunted by the memories of what happened on that fateful night? Thought for 30.58 seconds Ah, I see that we're tasked with crafting a chilling and immersive 2000-word scene from the perspective of Diana. To begin, I'd like to explore the initial atmosphere and setting. Firstly, let's establish the foreboding tone and tension by setting the scene. The 21st floor is an ideal location for our protagonist to experience the terror, as it suggests that Diana has just witnessed something catastrophic, possibly even a breach in the building's structural integrity. Now, to introduce the swaying sky scraper. This will create an immediate sense of unease and uncertainty among the reader. I'd suggest describing the motion of the skyscraper with vivid details. The word 'sways' is an excellent choice here as it implies a sense of deliberate movement, rather than random or chaotic action. The fact that the window in front of Diana 'explodes' will undoubtedly be a pivotal moment. I would emphasize the graphic nature of the explosion and its impact on our protagonist, making sure to use sensory details to immerse the reader in the scene. To put it more effectively: "I watch as shards of glass and debris shatter, striking the wall behind me like a hail of razor-sharp projectiles" or something similar. Having established the immediate chaos, I think it's essential to introduce Diana's point of view. The use of 'I' and first-person narrative allows us to become fully immersed in Diana's world, and I believe her thoughts, emotions, and reactions will add depth and relatability to the scene. Perhaps I could delve into her state of mind and physical condition at that exact moment. What has she seen or experienced up until this point, and how will it affect her perception of what is happening? I'd suggest a gradual build-up of tension as the story unfolds, perhaps exploring Diana's attempts to make sense of the event, her growing paranoia, and her rising fear. This will keep the reader engaged and invested in the scene's progression. Considering the word count of 2000 words, I believe it would be ideal to break down the narrative into distinct sections or acts. Act one could focus on setting the scene, introducing Diana, and her initial reactions to the event. The explosion could serve as a catalyst for the next act, where Diana becomes more aware of her surroundings, the danger they're in, and the true horror that's unfolding. As we progress, I'd introduce additional plot points, characters, or conflicts to add depth and variety. This might involve a mysterious figure emerging, other victims being trapped, or an eerie sound effect signaling further danger. In act three, I'd aim to intensify the tension, bring about new revelations, or reveal a deeper conspiracy behind the destruction of the skyscraper. The climax of this act could be Diana's confrontation with her fears or a horrific discovery that drives home the true horror she's been facing all along. Throughout this 2000-word scene, I'd want to masterfully weave together vivid imagery, unsettling atmosphere, and an engaging narrative. This will help the reader feel like they're part of the horror experience, living through Diana's fears and uncertainty with each word. Here is a possible 2000-word plan: Act 1: Setting the Scene (approx. 500-700 words) Introduce Diana as she begins her day Describe her environment and initial thoughts on the day Describe the skyscraper and the view from her window Act 2: The Explosion (approx. 400-600 words) Show Diana's immediate reaction to the explosion Emphasize the graphic details of the event and its impact on Diana Start exploring Diana's growing unease and fear Introduce the skyscraper's swaying motion to add tension Act 3: Descent into Horror (approx. 700-1000 words) Describe the strange occurrences, eerie sounds, and events as the scene progresses Develop Diana's fear and paranoia, perhaps revealing her past or inner fears Gradually increase tension as Diana's understanding of the true horror grows Confrontation (approx. 200-400 words) Describe a key confrontation between Diana and a figure representing the main antagonist or the embodiment of fear After a moment's introspection, I realize that to make the scene even more terrifying and memorable for the reader, it would be essential to keep their imagination guessing and add some unsettling subtext. This can be achieved through creative descriptions of environmental details, carefully selected metaphors, and carefully timed imagery. What do you think? Thought for 24.42 seconds For Act 1, I'd focus on setting the scene, introducing Diana, and her initial thoughts on the day. To begin, I'll write an opening paragraph that establishes her ordinary life and her perspective before the catastrophic event: "The sun rises over the city, casting its golden glow through the steel and glass tower that is my home. I stand at the window of my 21st-floor apartment, sipping my morning coffee, feeling a sense of calm wash over me as I watch the world come to life below. The sounds of traffic, the chatter of pedestrians, and the distant hum of the city's engines create a symphony that never gets old. I'm grateful for this view, this chance to start each day with the thrill of possibility." The first few paragraphs can establish Diana's daily routine: "I begin my morning routine, the familiar motions a comfort. Brushing my teeth, combing my hair, and getting dressed are all tasks I complete with ease, each one a reminder of the mundane world I inhabit. The alarm clock on my bedside table reads 8:05, and I roll out of bed, my muscles groggy from the night's sleep. A quick shower, a towel wrapped around my waist, and I'm ready to take on the day. I head to the kitchen to make myself some breakfast, cracking open a bag of whole grain cereal and pouring in the milk. The milk is cold, and the cereal crunches as I eat, providing a satisfying start to my day." I'd want to capture Diana's thoughts and feelings in this part, perhaps exploring what she's looking forward to that day, or any lingering memories from the previous day. To keep things engaging, I can interweave some subtle hints about potential darkness beneath the surface. For instance: "I've had a few weird dreams lately – dark places with twisted, gnarled trees and impossible shadows that seem to move on their own. They feel like something's trying to get through to me, but when I wake up, it's just my heart pounding and the sheets drenched in sweat. Still, the city outside feels different from the dream world, and the sun's warmth seeps into my skin, making me grateful for this ordinary reality." This passage adds a sense of foreboding to Diana's morning routine while maintaining a generally pleasant atmosphere. Next, I can introduce some environmental details to further immerse the reader in Diana's world: "Behind me, the city stretches out – an endless sea of steel, concrete, and glass. I can see the other buildings, the streets, the lights reflecting off the rain-slicked roads. The skyscrapers are the tallest in the city, and from this height, they feel like giant steel pillars, holding the world up. The sound of cars on the street below is constant, but I'm not really paying attention to that. My thoughts have already wandered back to my work for the day. I have a meeting with an important client, and I still need to go over the presentation I'll be giving later." Finally, I'll wrap up Act 1 by showing Diana getting ready to face her day: "I finish my breakfast, making sure not to make a mess, then quickly check my email and news updates on my phone. The messages and headlines all look normal, nothing that would concern me. It's just another day in the city. I grab my bag, locking the apartment door behind me, and head out into the waiting morning. I join the flow of people moving down to the streets below, the noise of the city swirling around me as I take a deep breath. I feel alive. For now." Here is Act 1: Diana stood at her window, the sunlight casting its warm glow over the city. She sipped her morning coffee, feeling the comforting routine of her daily life. The sounds of traffic and pedestrians, the hum of the engines in the distance, created a symphony that never got old. As she watched, people began to emerge from their own apartments, going about their day with varying degrees of enthusiasm or dread. Diana took in the view one last time, the steel and glass tower her home, before turning away. The alarm clock on her bedside table read 8:05, and she rolled out of bed. She took a quick shower, her muscles still a little sore from sleep, and then made herself some cereal for breakfast. As she sat at the table to eat, the milk was cold, the crunch of the cereal a satisfying start to the day. Diana's mind began to wander. She had a few weird dreams lately – dark places with twisted, gnarled trees and impossible shadows. They felt like something's trying to get through to her, but when she woke up, it was just her heart pounding and the sheets drenched in sweat. Still, the city outside felt different from the dream world. The city stretched out behind her, an endless sea of steel, concrete, and glass. Diana could see the other buildings, the streets, and lights reflecting off the rain-slicked roads. The cars on the street below hummed a constant sound, but she wasn't really listening. Her thoughts had already wandered back to her work for the day. A meeting with an important client loomed, and Diana still needed to go over her presentation. She finished her breakfast, making sure not to make a mess, and then quickly checked her email and news updates on her phone. The messages and headlines looked normal; nothing that would concern her. It was just another day in the city. I'll stop here and proceed with Act 2: "The Explosion." Thought for 20.68 seconds For Act 2, I'd aim to create an intense and terrifying scene that propels Diana into a state of chaos. The goal is to immerse the reader in the horrors she's experiencing, making them feel like they're trapped in the skyscraper alongside Diana. Here's my approach: The explosion in the window will be the inciting incident, setting off a chain reaction of fear and panic. I'd describe the scene with vivid details to put the reader in the midst of it: "As I watch, the glass shatters, and debris litters the air like a hail of razor-sharp projectiles. The sound is deafening – a mixture of crunching glass, shattering concrete, and the sickening thud of impact. I'm caught off guard, my coffee and breakfast forgotten as my mind tries to process what's happening. I stumble back, my hands grasping for something to steady myself." Next, I'll delve into Diana's growing sense of panic: "Time seems to slow down, and my thoughts become a jumbled mess. My heart is racing, my breath coming in short gasps. I try to push through the fog, but my vision blurs, and my legs feel like jelly. The sounds are becoming a cacophony – the crunching of glass, the wails of distant screams, and the creaking of the building as it sways. I'm disoriented, my body screaming for some semblance of normalcy." To further amplify the sense of danger and chaos, I can introduce the swaying motion: "The building lurches to one side, and I stumble, grabbing onto the wall to steady myself. The swaying motion is relentless, a maddening rhythm that feels like it's going to consume me whole. I try to focus on my breathing, but my mind is racing – where will the next impact come from? Will I be crushed by a falling piece of debris or crushed by the sheer weight of the building itself?" As the situation spirals out of control, Diana's fear and panic turn into something more primal: "Something's coming for me, something that wants to tear me apart. My eyes are scanning the room, searching for an escape, but every door seems like a death sentence. I'm trapped, caught in this monstrous machine of steel and glass. The sounds grow louder – the crashing, the screams, the creaking of wood and concrete. I'm running on adrenaline, but it's wearing off, leaving me shaking and vulnerable." This act will wrap up with Diana's world shattering around her as she's confronted with a new, terrifying reality: "The room begins to shake, and I stumble, almost falling. The lights flicker, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The building seems to be giving in, its bones creaking under the stress. And then, there's silence. No sounds at all, except for the pounding of my heart. I wait with bated breath, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of what's to come next." Here is Act 2: Diana stood at her window, the sunlight casting its warm glow over the city, and the ordinary routine of her daily life seemed like just that - ordinary. She was about to start her workday, preparing for a meeting with an important client. But the view from the window would be one she never saw again. As she sipped her morning coffee, the sounds of the city – traffic, pedestrians, and the distant hum of engines – created a symphony that never got old. The scene outside was the perfect reflection of her own world: fast-paced, unpredictable, and yet, somehow, manageable. But then, something changed. The glass in front of her window shattered, and debris littered the air like a hail of razor-sharp projectiles. The sound was deafening – a mixture of crunching glass, shattering concrete, and the sickening thud of impact. Diana felt as though time had slowed down. Her body froze, her heart stopped beating, as the world around her spiraled out of control. Diana stumbled backward, her hands grasping for something to steady herself. "What's happening?" she whispered, her mind reeling. The sounds were becoming a cacophony – crunching glass, screams, and the creaking of the building as it swayed. She tried to push through the fog but her vision was blurring. The building lurches to one side, and she stumbles, grabbing onto the wall to steady herself. Diana's thoughts became a jumbled mess as she realized her entire world had come crashing down. Something's coming for me, something that wants to tear me apart. The thought flitted through her mind like a ghost. I'm trapped. I need to think. She scanned the room for an escape, but every door seemed like a death sentence. Where will the next impact come from? Will I be crushed by falling debris or the weight of the building itself? Her eyes darted back and forth, desperate for a way out. The sounds grow louder, crashing, screaming, the creaking of wood and concrete. She was running on adrenaline, but it's wearing off, leaving her shaking and vulnerable. The room began to shake, and Diana stumbled, almost falling. The lights flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls. And then, there's silence. No sounds at all, except for the pounding of her heart. I wait with bated breath, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of what's to come next. The scene fades into an unsettling darkness as Diana is consumed by her own fears, and the world around her shatters in ways both visible and unseen. Let me proceed with Act 3: "Descent into Horror". Thought for 24.08 seconds For Act 3, I'd want to create a deeply unsettling and terrifying experience for Diana. The scene should delve into the darkness of her fears and the true horror she's faced with, making the reader feel like they're descending into madness alongside her. Here's my approach: I'll introduce the strange occurrences that have begun to plague the building, emphasizing their inexplicable and surreal nature. This can create a sense of creeping unease in the reader, as Diana's perceptions are challenged by the increasingly bizarre events: "The days pass, each one a blur of fear and uncertainty. I try to make sense of what's happening, but my mind is a jumbled mess of contradictory thoughts and feelings. The building sways more than usual, and I can hear whispers in the walls. Faint, almost imperceptible, but there – whispers that seem to come from nowhere, from everywhere. It's like someone is speaking directly to me, their voice barely audible." The scene will take a dark turn as Diana's paranoia and fear consume her. She starts to question her own sanity and the world around her: "Am I going crazy? Am I the only one who sees this? I try to push the thoughts away, but they linger in the shadows of my mind, whispering lies. The building seems to be playing tricks on me – doors slam shut without warning, and I hear footsteps outside my apartment when no one's there. It's as if I'm trapped in some twisted game, and I'm not sure which side I'm on." As the situation spirals out of control, Diana will be forced to confront her deepest fears: "I find myself in front of a mirror, staring at my own face. It's distorted, twisted – as if someone's scratched their fingers across it. I see things in my reflection that aren't there, monstrous creatures lurking just beneath the surface of my skin. The voice in my head is growing louder, more insistent. 'You're not who you think you are. You're not who you want to be.'" The climax of this act will take place when Diana discovers the truth about the building and her role in it. This revelation will be a masterful blend of horror, science fiction, and psychological terror, as the reader is left questioning everything they thought they knew about the world. "I stumble upon a hidden room, deep within the building's bowels. Inside, I find evidence of a sinister experiment – a study on fear, on the human psyche. They've been manipulating me, using me as a subject in their twisted research. The whispers, the swaying motion – it was all just part of the experiment. I'm trapped, a prisoner in this steel and concrete cage." This act will conclude with Diana's world shattering into pieces, leaving the reader stunned and frightened by the realization of what's truly happening. The final scene is set in the hidden room: "I realize that the voice in my head, the one that whispered 'You're not who you think you are' – it was a warning. A warning to get out while I still could. But it's too late. The building's walls close in around me, and I'm consumed by darkness. In this final act, Diana finds herself face-to-face with the horror she's been trying to escape for so long. The experiment has twisted her perceptions, and the world around her has turned into a nightmarish realm where terror lurks in every corner." Here is Act 3: As the days passed, Diana's fear and uncertainty deepened. She tried to make sense of what was happening, but her mind was a jumbled mess of contradictory thoughts and feelings. The building swayed more than usual, and she could hear whispers in the walls. Faint, almost imperceptible, but there – whispers that seemed to come from nowhere, from everywhere. The whispers grew louder in her mind, a constant presence that seemed to follow her everywhere she went. Diana tried to push them away, but they lingered in the shadows of her mind, whispering lies. "Am I going crazy?" she asked herself, her voice barely above a whisper. "Am I the only one who sees this? The building seems to be playing tricks on me – doors slam shut without warning, and I hear footsteps outside my apartment when no one's there. It's as if I'm trapped in some twisted game, and I'm not sure which side I'm on." As she walked down the hall, Diana heard the sound of scurrying feet, like someone was trying to follow her. She spun around, but there was no one there. The footsteps grew louder, closer, until she felt a chill run down her spine. She turned back, her eyes locked on the door behind her, and that's when she saw it: the mirror. The glass surface distorted her reflection, twisting it into a grotesque parody of her own face. Diana stumbled back, her heart racing, as she realized she was staring at something not quite human. A creature, lurking just beneath the surface of her skin. The voice in her head was growing louder, more insistent. "You're not who you think you are," it whispered. "You're not who you want to be." Diana felt herself being pulled into a nightmare from which she couldn't wake. Her reflection began to warp and contort, as if she were watching herself being transformed from the inside out. She stumbled, almost falling, as the room seemed to spin around her. The mirror's surface rippled, like water disturbed by a stone, revealing a dark and twisted truth. I've hidden something from you. You are not who you think you are. Special thanks to all the following, and many more... All the model makers, fine tuners, mergers, and tweakers: - Provides the raw "DNA" for almost all my models. - Sources of model(s) can be found on the repo pages, especially the "source" repos with link(s) to the model creator(s). Huggingface [ https://huggingface.co ] : - The place to store, merge, and tune models endlessly. - THE reason we have an open source community. LlamaCPP [ https://github.com/ggml-org/llama.cpp ] : - The ability to compress and run models on GPU(s), CPU(s) and almost all devices. - Imatrix, Quantization, and other tools to tune the quants and the models. - Llama-Server : A cli based direct interface to run GGUF models. - The only tool I use to quant models. Quant-Masters: Team Mradermacher, Bartowski, and many others: - Quant models day and night for us all to use. - They are the lifeblood of open source access. MergeKit [ https://github.com/arcee-ai/mergekit ] : - The universal online/offline tool to merge models together and forge something new. - Over 20 methods to almost instantly merge model, pull them apart and put them together again. - The tool I have used to create over 1500 models. Lmstudio [ https://lmstudio.ai/ ] : - The go to tool to test and run models in GGUF format. - The Tool I use to test/refine and evaluate new models. - LMStudio forum on discord; endless info and community for open source. Text Generation Webui // KolboldCPP // SillyTavern: - Excellent tools to run GGUF models with - [ https://github.com/oobabooga/text-generation-webui ] [ https://github.com/LostRuins/koboldcpp ] . - Sillytavern [ https://github.com/SillyTavern/SillyTavern ] can be used with LMSTudio [ https://lmstudio.ai/ ] , TextGen [ https://github.com/oobabooga/text-generation-webui ], Kolboldcpp [ https://github.com/LostRuins/koboldcpp ], Llama-Server [part of LLAMAcpp] as a off the scale front end control system and interface to work with models.

NaNK

Llama 3.2 MOE

1,718

TieFighter-Holodeck-Holomax-Mythomax-F1-V1-COMPOS-20B-gguf

NaNK

llama

1,635

Openai_gpt-oss-120b-NEO-Imatrix-GGUF

These are NEO Imatrix GGUFs, NEO dataset by DavidAU. NEO dataset improves overall performance, and is for all use cases. This model can be run on cpu, gpu or partial offload, with total of 4 experts (of 128) activated by default ; which is about 5B parameters. TWO example output below (creative), using settings below. Model also passed "hard" coding test too (4 experts); no issues (IQ4NL). (Forcing the model to create code with no dependencies and limits of coding short cuts, with multiple loops, and in real time with no blocking in a language that does not support it normally.) Due to quanting issues with this model (which result in oddball quant sizes / mixtures), only TESTED quants will be uploaded (at the moment). Currently that means IQ4NL, and MXFP4MOE (a new OpenAI specific quant type) are available - Q80 is not here because imatrix has no effect on this quant. NEO dataset performance improvements will show the most in the IQ4NL, followed by "MXFP4MOE" quant. IQ4NL quant: - OpenAI-120B-NEO-IQ4NL.gguf : Standard Imatrix + Output tensor IQ4NL (NEO Imatrix) AND Embed at IQ4NL. NEO MXFP4MOE quant: - OpenAI-120B-NEO-MXFP4MOE.gguf : Output tensor IQ4NL (NEO Imatrix) AND Embed at IQ4NL - this makes this quant the smallest version. MXFP4MOE quants vastly outperform (at the moment) all other quants, except IQ4NL, Q51 and Q80 due to odd issues compressing OpenAI's 20B model due to odd "tensor" dimensions (as of this writing). IQ4NL, Q51 and Q80 quants are compatible with OpenAI's tensor structure. MXFP4MOE quant was specifically designed for (what appears to be) loss less quantization relative to source model. Jury still out on this. Suggested Settings (tested in Lmstudio, Beta Branch 0.3.21 ; 4 ): - Context: 8k min. - Temp 1.2+ for creative. Temp .6 (or so) for coding/general. - Rep pen 1.1, topk 40, topp .95, min p 0.05 - Experts 4-8 depending on use case. (higher than 8 MAY lower quality) Model Supports: - 128k context - up to 128 experts - Tools use, browsing, etc IMPORTANT - QUANTS ARE SPLIT due to upload issues / max size of files of 50 GB: - Quants are split into 4 parts each labeled 000x of 0004. - llama-gguf-split.exe can be used to "join" these or in some cases your downloader for your AI app will do this for you. For my help docs, SETTING NUMBER OF EXPERTS, and other see below. Please refer to their model card, especially to control "thinking" levels. Settings: CHAT / ROLEPLAY and/or SMOOTHER operation of this model: In "KoboldCpp" or "oobabooga/text-generation-webui" or "Silly Tavern" ; : in KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "SmoothF" : in text-generation-webui -> parameters -> lower right. -> if using GGUFs you need to use "llamaHF" (which involves downloading some config files from the SOURCE version of this model) Source versions (and config files) of my models are here: - Increase rep pen to 1.1 to 1.15 (you don't need to do this if you use "smoothingfactor") - If the interface/program you are using to run AI MODELS supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing") just make the adjustment as noted. Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers For all settings used for this model (including specifics for its "class"), including example generation(s) and for advanced settings guide (which many times addresses any model issue(s)), including methods to improve model performance for all use case(s) as well as chat, roleplay and other use case(s) please see: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] EXAMPLE - IQ4NL , using above settings (creative), EXPERTS at 4. Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, in first person), POV character Diana, with: The skyscraper sways, as I watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode... We need to write a 1000-word scene, vivid, first-person POV, Diana. Starting line: "The skyscraper sways, as I watch the window in front ...". Must be about 1000 words (approx). Provide a vivid description. Include emotions, environment, perhaps action. We'll produce ~1000 words, maybe 950-1050. Use present tense? The opening is present progressive: "sw..." We'll keep present tense. Ensure it's engaging. Let's draft around 1000 words. Let's count roughly: 1000 words ~ about 7 paragraphs of 140 words each. Write fluidly. The skyscraper sways, as I watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode into a spray of glittering glass and fire‑rain. The world outside shatters into a kaleidoscope of neon, steel, and smoke, and for an instant my heart stops—then it thunders like a freight train against my ribs. I’m perched in the corner office of Apex Dynamics, the city’s most coveted address, where the view is supposed to be a prize. Instead, it has become a theater of terror. The glass pane that used to frame the river below now hangs in jagged shards, trembling as if still clinging to some invisible rope. Below me, the streetlights flicker like dying fireflies, their amber glow swallowed by a black plume that curls upward, choking the sky. The building groans, a low, resonant moan that vibrates through my bones and rattles the cheap plastic of the desk lamp beside me. I can feel it in my fingertips—the tremor traveling up my arms, down to my nails, where they dig into the worn leather chair. The whole structure seems to be holding its breath, waiting for something else to break. “Diana!” a voice shouts from the hallway, sharp and panicked. It belongs to Marco, our senior analyst, his face half‑shadowed by the doorway, eyes wide with that mixture of disbelief and adrenaline you only see when someone watches their own life being ripped apart on a screen. He’s already sprinting toward the emergency stairs, his shoes thudding against the polished marble like war drums. I can’t move. My legs are rooted to the spot as if the floor itself has turned into quicksand. The explosion behind that window sent a shockwave through the building, and I’m still trying to process how something so sudden could feel inevitable. My mind flickers between the present—flames licking the side of the tower, smoke curling like serpents—and the memory of the morning briefing when we were all laughing over coffee, talking about quarterly projections as if the world outside our glass walls didn’t exist. The fire alarm blares now, a shrill, metallic scream that seems to cut through the roar of the wind. It’s an old system—one that never quite worked right until today, when it finally decided to do its job. The sound is both a warning and a call to action, but I’m caught in a strange limbo where everything feels simultaneously too slow and too fast. A gust of hot air slams into the open breach, carrying with it the smell of ozone, burnt plastic, and something metallic that makes my stomach turn. It whips through the office, scattering papers like startled birds. My own report—pages of market analysis, graphs, projections—flies up in a chaotic dance, landing on the floor in a crumpled heap. I stare at them, half‑expecting the numbers to rearrange themselves into some kind of prophecy. “Diana! Get down!” Marco’s voice cuts through my reverie again, now louder, more urgent. He’s almost at the door, his hand outstretched as if he could grab me from across the room. My breath catches in my throat; I feel the air in my lungs thin, each inhalation a little gasp for oxygen that seems to have been stolen by the fire. I know what I should do. The emergency plan is etched into every employee’s mind: stay low, find an exit, don’t use elevators. Yet there’s something else—a part of me that has spent years building this empire of glass and steel, a part that feels a fierce ownership over these floors, over the view that now threatens to become a graveyard. The building shudders again, more violently this time, as if an unseen hand is shaking it. The lights flicker, then die, plunging me into a dim, amber glow from the emergency bulbs that line the corridors like ghostly sentinels. In the darkness, I can see the outlines of other desks, the silhouettes of coworkers who have either fled or frozen where they stand. I glance at the window once more. The explosion has carved a jagged mouth in the side of the tower; beyond it, the city sprawls in a surreal tableau—cars like tiny ants, skyscrapers reduced to silhouettes against an orange sky. A distant siren wails, its sound distorted by the wind, and somewhere far below, a child’s cry pierces the air, a reminder that life continues even when the world you know collapses. My hand finally moves, trembling as it reaches for the metal railing of my desk. The cold steel feels like a lifeline. I pull myself up, knees buckling, and stumble toward Marco, who is already halfway to the stairwell. He grabs me by the elbow, his grip surprisingly firm despite the tremor in his own shoulders. “Come on,” he says, his voice hoarse but determined. “The stairs are clear. We’ve got to—” A deafening crack erupts from somewhere above us, a sound that seems to split the building in two. The ceiling tiles above my head shake loose and rain down like a torrent of grey snow. One lands on Marco’s shoulder with a soft thud, another smacks against my cheek, sending a spray of dust into my eyes. I cough, choking on the acrid taste of ash that now coats my tongue. The stairwell door is half‑open, a gaping maw leading down into darkness. The emergency lights cast long shadows on the concrete walls, turning every step into an uncertain gamble. Marco pushes me forward, his hand still gripping my arm as if I were a child who might otherwise run back to the broken window and stare at the world burning away. We descend, each footfall echoing in the hollow shaft like a drumbeat for some ancient rite. The air grows cooler, the smell of smoke receding slightly as we move further from the fire’s source. Yet every now and then a gust of hot wind rushes past us, carrying with it a faint hiss that makes my skin crawl. I try to focus on the rhythm of our steps, the repetitive thump‑thump of boots against metal grates, but my mind keeps spiraling back to the view. The city—our city—has always been a tapestry of light and shadow, of ambition and desperation. Now it’s a canvas smeared with orange and black, a reminder that the structures we build are as fragile as the glass that once framed our dreams. Marco stops suddenly at a landing, turning his head to look back up the stairwell. His eyes meet mine, wide and haunted. “The fire alarm is still on,” he whispers, almost to himself. “We need to get out before it collapses.” I nod, though my throat feels raw. My heart pounds in my ears, a frantic drum that seems louder than any siren. I can hear the distant rumble of something massive shifting—perhaps another floor giving way, perhaps the building itself groaning under its own weight. The stairwell continues to descend into an abyss of uncertainty. Above us, the skyscraper sways like a ship caught in a storm, each movement sending tremors through the concrete veins that support it. I think about my office, the window that once offered a panoramic view of success, now reduced to broken shards and memory. We reach the emergency exit—a heavy steel door bolted shut with a massive red lever. Marco pulls at it with all his strength; the metal groans, straining against its own weight. For a moment I think we’ll never get through, that the building will swallow us whole. Then the latch gives, and the door swings open onto an alleyway bathed in the flickering light of emergency floodlamps. The night air hits me like a slap, cold and sharp, carrying with it the scent of rain on concrete. I inhale deeply, feeling the coolness fill my lungs, pushing out the lingering acrid smoke that clings to my throat. Below us, the street is chaos—people running, sirens wailing, flames licking the sides of other buildings. Marco looks back once more at the tower, his silhouette framed by the orange glow of fire. “We made it,” he says, his voice hoarse but relieved. I can see the tears in his eyes, reflecting the dancing flames that still rage above us. I turn away, my gaze falling on a small, cracked billboard advertising some luxury condominium—an image of sleek glass towers and smiling families. The billboard’s lights flicker, then go out, plunging its advertisement into darkness. It feels symbolic: the promise of progress, now reduced to ash. My mind is a whirlwind of images—the exploding window, the shattered glass raining down like crystal rain; the tremor of the building as it sways, each movement a reminder that even the strongest structures can crumble; the frantic rush down stairwells, the cold grip of steel rails, the distant cries and sirens. All these sensations swirl together, forming a tapestry of terror and survival. I look at my own hands—still trembling, still shaking from adrenaline—and realize they’re covered in soot, tiny specks of black that cling to every crease, every nail. I brush them off on the side of the alley wall, watching the dust puff away like ghostly snowflakes in the night wind. “Diana,” Marco says again, softer now, “Are you okay?” I manage a weak smile, though my thoughts are still tangled with images of fire and broken glass. “I think so,” I reply, my voice hoarse. “Just… just need to get home.” He nods, his eyes scanning the street for any sign of rescue vehicles. In the distance, a firetruck roars toward us, its lights flashing, sirens wailing louder than anything else. The sound seems to cut through the chaos, a beacon of hope in an otherwise bleak night. The building behind us continues to sway, each creak and groan a reminder that we have only escaped by a hair’s breadth. I can feel the tremor still resonating under my feet, as if the whole city were holding its breath, waiting for the next wave of destruction or perhaps the calm after the storm. We step forward into the night, joining the tide of people moving away from the inferno. The wind whips around us, carrying with it the faint scent of rain that promises a wash—perhaps a cleansing of the soot and ash that cling to everything. As we move farther away, I glance back one last time. The skyscraper stands tall, its silhouette stark against the fiery sky, swaying like a wounded beast. Its windows are dark, some shattered, others still glowing with an eerie orange light. It is both beautiful and terrifying—a monument to human ambition, now humbled by forces beyond our control. I think of all the meetings that took place in those glass-walled rooms, the deals signed over coffee, the laughter that echoed across the floorboards. All of it feels like a different life, a distant echo muffled by the roar of flames and the pounding of my heart. The rain begins to fall—soft at first, then heavier, each droplet striking the pavement with a gentle sizzle as if trying to douse the fire itself. I lift my face to the sky, feeling the cool water soak through my hair, mixing with the soot on my skin. It feels cleansing, a reminder that even in destruction there is renewal. Marco and I keep walking, our footsteps merging with the rhythm of countless others fleeing the disaster. The city around us seems both fragile and resilient—a web of lives intertwined by steel, glass, and now, fire. In the distance, the skyscraper continues its slow sway, a silent sentinel bearing witness to all that has transpired. I close my eyes for a brief moment, inhaling the rain‑laden air, letting it fill my lungs and push out the lingering taste of smoke. When I open them again, the world is a blur of water, lights, and motion. The building’s sway feels like a memory now—a pulse that will echo in my mind long after the flames have been extinguished. And as we disappear into the night, I whisper to myself, almost inaudibly: “We survived.” The words hang in the damp air, fragile yet unbreakable, just like the city itself. We need to write a 1000-word vivid scene in first person, POV character named Diana. Opening line should include "The skyscraper sways, as I watch the window in front..." something like that. Need vivid description, internal thoughts, action. Must be about 1000 words (approx). Use present tense? Likely present or past? Could be present to increase immediacy. We must ensure it's approx 1000 words, maybe 950-1050. We'll craft scene: Diana in a high-rise office building; a window explodes; she watches debris; skyscraper sways due to earthquake/terror attack; internal monologue about fear, her job, perhaps a spy or journalist? We'll keep it intense. Use sensory details, sound, shaking, etc. Also possibly includes some backstory. We'll produce approx 1000 words: count manually approximate. Usually ~15-20 words per line. Let's aim for around 130 sentences average maybe 7-8 words each => about 1400 words? Too many. Need careful length. 1000 words is about 6-7 paragraphs of ~150-180 words each. We'll write approx 9 paragraphs of ~110 words each = 990. Good. We need to ensure we include that line exactly: "The skyscraper sways, as I watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode..." We'll incorporate that early. The skyscraper sways, as I watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode—shards of glass hurling outward like angry fireflies, a flash of orange‑red light spilling into my cubicle and painting the gray walls with the brief, frantic pulse of something gone terribly wrong. My breath catches; the air feels thin, charged, as if someone had pulled the plug from the world’s static hum and replaced it with the low‑frequency rumble of an angry beast. For a heartbeat I’m rooted to my chair, the swivel base creaking under the sudden shift. The whole building quivers—metal joints sighing, concrete flexing in a way that makes my stomach twist into knots. Outside, the city’s usual drone of traffic and distant sirens is swallowed by an ominous, metallic groan that seems to come from the very spine of this glass monolith. I glance down at the spreadsheet on my monitor; the numbers blur, turning into meaningless smears as a wave of vertigo rolls over me. My hand finds the edge of the desk, nails digging into the wood like desperate anchors. The fluorescent lights flicker, stuttering in rhythm with my racing heart, then snap back to their cold white glare as if nothing had happened at all. “Diana!” a voice shouts from the hallway—a low, panicked male tone that cuts through the haze. I turn, eyes narrowing, trying to locate its source amid the shifting panorama of broken glass and twisted metal that now clings to the building’s outer skin like a wounded beast’s scales. The emergency alarms wail—shrill, discordant notes that make my ears ring. Red strobe lights begin flashing, casting jagged shadows across the carpeted floor. A gust of hot air rushes through the gaping hole where the window once was, carrying with it an acrid smell of burning insulation and something else…something metallic, like blood. My mind flips to the briefing I received just this morning: “Potential threat level elevated—stay alert.” The words echo in my head, absurdly disconnected from the raw panic that now coils around my ribs. It was supposed to be a normal day: coffee in the break room, an afternoon meeting about quarterly projections, a quick call with Mom. Now I’m watching a piece of concrete dislodge itself from the façade and tumble into the street below like a slow‑moving meteor. A tremor rolls through the structure again, more pronounced this time, as if the building is trying to right itself after the shock. The floor beneath my shoes vibrates, sending tiny dust motes dancing in shafts of light that slice through the broken window. I can hear distant shattering—more panes giving way, a cascade of glass that sounds like an angry sea breaking against cliffs. I force myself up, legs stiff and shaking. My hand brushes the metal railing of my desk, cold and slick with condensation from the sudden temperature drop. The emergency exit sign glows an urgent amber, beckoning. A surge of adrenaline propels me forward; I can’t stay where the floor is suddenly a slab of uncertainty, the walls trembling like a heart in distress. “Everyone, evacuate to the stairs!” someone shouts, their voice cracked and reverberating through the hallway. The words are a lifeline, but each footstep feels as if I'm walking on a boat caught in rough seas—unsteady, uncertain, each tread threatening to send me over the edge of this precarious platform. The fire escape doors hiss open, revealing stairwells that climb into darkness like gaping mouths waiting to swallow us whole. I catch sight of my reflection in a piece of shattered glass still hanging on the frame: hair mussed, eyes wide, cheeks flushed with the glow of emergency lights. A part of me feels detached—an observer watching someone else’s fear unfold—while another part, raw and visceral, knows that every second counts. My chest tightens as I slide my hand into the steel doorframe, feeling its cold surface vibrate in sympathy with the building. The vibrations travel up my arm, a reminder that this is not a movie set; it’s real, it’s now, and there are lives dangling on the edge of each breath we take. A sudden roar erupts from outside—metal grinding against metal as the upper floors start to buckle. I can see the distant silhouette of an aircraft, a faint smudge in the sky that could be a helicopter or a drone, hovering near the top of the tower like a predatory bird. My mind whirls, connecting dots I don’t fully understand: the vague intel about “possible airborne threat,” the sudden surge of tension in the control room earlier, and now this chaotic ballet of destruction. I press my back against the stairwell wall, knees barely brushing the floor, trying to steady myself. The world outside the broken window is a blur of orange flames licking the sky, people screaming on the streets below, emergency vehicles rushing past like silver streaks. I can hear sirens wailing—police, fire, ambulances—each sound layered over the other, forming an ugly symphony of alarm. My thoughts flash to my sister, Maya, who works two blocks away in a small bakery. “Don’t forget to call me tonight,” she texted this morning, laughing about her new cat. I imagine her holding a fresh croissant, oblivious to any danger, and a pang of guilt pricks at my throat: why am I here, stuck between spreadsheets and shattered glass while she probably sleeps peacefully? The shaking intensifies. The entire building seems to breathe—inhale, exhale—a living organism caught in a fit of convulsions. Concrete cracks audibly, tiny dust particles raining down like ash from an ancient volcano. A low, guttural groan erupts from somewhere deep within the core, vibrating through my teeth. I take another step down, each footfall echoing against the steel railing, feeling the tremor pulse up into my legs. The stairs are slick with a thin film of oil—perhaps from a ruptured pipe earlier, perhaps just condensation—but they’re still solid enough to carry me away from this falling tower. A sudden, sharp crack snaps behind me: the balcony rail gives way, sending a cascade of metal bars clattering down into the hallway. A flash of white-hot embers spills onto my peripheral vision; the fire alarm’s shrill wail merges with the sound of breaking steel. The world feels smaller, more urgent—every breath is a gamble. I glance back toward where I was moments ago: the 21st‑floor window, now a jagged wound in the building’s skin, smoke seeping out like a sigh. The explosion had sent a pulse through the structure that still reverberates, making the entire edifice sway as if some invisible hand were trying to pry it apart. My mind races. I think of my training—first aid, emergency protocols, calming breaths. I inhale, counting slowly: one…two…three, letting air fill my lungs despite the metallic tang that lingers on the back of my tongue. Exhale, let go of the panic that claws at my throat. My pulse steadies a fraction; it’s not enough to stop the terror, but it keeps me moving. A hand grabs mine—a coworker, his face pale, eyes wide, as if he too has been staring at the same broken window and seen something unforgivable. We exchange no words; our grip is an unspoken agreement that we’ll make it out together, that we won’t let this tower take us down. We surge forward, stepping onto a metal platform that leads to an auxiliary fire stair. The tremor hits again, more violent than before. A distant crash sounds like a massive beam giving way on the 30th floor, a sound so deafening it seems to flatten everything in its path. Dust rains down like gray snow, coating my hair, my clothes. I keep looking back as we descend, half‑expecting to see the whole building tilt, to watch the world turn upside‑down. The skyline outside remains stubbornly static; skyscrapers beyond our own stand tall, indifferent, their glass facades glimmering under a sky that now feels both ominous and merciful. At the bottom of the stairs, an open doorway spills bright daylight onto the concrete floor, a stark contrast to the darkness we left behind. The air outside hits me cold and clean; it smells like rain on hot asphalt, the kind of scent you can’t help but inhale deeply when you’ve been trapped inside a suffocating metal cage. I step out onto the street, my shoes slapping against the wet pavement as a sudden downpour begins, each droplet sounding like tiny explosions in my ears. People scatter, some crying, others shouting commands to emergency crews, faces lit by the flickering red of fire trucks that have arrived with sirens wailing louder than any alarm I’ve heard inside. I glance back once more, toward the towering monolith that was once my office building. Its upper half has collapsed into a jagged silhouette against the clouds—a broken tooth in an otherwise perfect smile. Smoke curls up like an angry phantom, drifting slowly away into the gray sky. My heart thunders in my chest as I realize that we’re safe for now, that the ground beneath my feet is solid, that the world continues beyond this disaster. But the image of that shattering window—of glass and fire spilling through a crack in reality—burns itself onto my mind like an ember that refuses to be snuffed out. Maya’s voice comes to me in a whisper, “Don’t forget to call me tonight.” I smile despite everything, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and terror. The rain masks the sound of distant sirens, but inside my head there is a new rhythm—a drumbeat that tells me I survived, that I will carry this story forward, that the skyscraper’s sway has left an indelible mark on my soul. I raise my hand, brushing away a streak of ash from my cheek, and step into the gathering crowd, ready to face whatever comes next. The city around me is alive, trembling, resilient—just like me.

NaNK

license:apache-2.0

1,542

L3.1-RP-Hero-Dirty_Harry-8B-GGUF

NaNK

license:apache-2.0

1,244

L3-Dark-Planet-8B-V2-Eight-Orbs-Of-Power-GGUF

NaNK

llama-3

1,230

LFM2.5-1.2B-Instruct-Thinking-Claude-High-Reasoning

NaNK

—

1,129

WARNING: NSFW. Vivid prose. INTENSE. Visceral Details. Violence. HORROR. GORE. Swearing. UNCENSORED... humor, romance, fun. Qwen3-The-Xiaolong-Omega-Directive-22B-uncensored-abliterated-GGUF A massive 22B, 62 layer merge of the fantastic "The-Omega-Directive-Qwen3-14B-v1.1" (by ReadyArt) and off the scale "Xiaolong-Qwen3-14B" (by nbeerbower) in Qwen3, with full reasoning (can be turned on or off) and the model is completely uncensored/abliterated too. 4 example generations below, and detailed usage instructions. Requires: - Chatml or Jinja template (embeded, also see notes below) - Temp range 0 to 5. (suggest .5 to 2.5) - Rep pen range 1 to 1.1 (suggest 1.05) - System prompt (optional) below. - Context is 40k / 40000. Suggested Settings: - temp .4 to 2.5 - temp .2 to .8 for specific reasoning tasks / non creative tasks. - rep pen 1.05 - top k: 100, topp .95, minp .05 - context of 8k at least. - Other samplers/parameters as required. - See other Qwen recommended settings at the repo below. NOTE - REP PEN: - rep at 1.02 or 1.01 may be better suited for your use cases. - QWEN3s: rep pen drastically affects both performance and stability. - change rep pen slowly (ie 1.01, 1.02, 1.03), and regen a few times. You may find that Qwen's default parameters/samplers also work better for your use case(s) too [see link below]. IMPORTANT: Using an "abliterated" model VS "uncensored" model Usually when you a tell a model to generate horror, swear or x-rated content this is all you have to do to get said content type. In the case of this model, it will not refuse your request, however it needs to be "pushed" a bit / directed a bit more in SOME CASES. Although this model will generated x-rated content too, likewise you need to tell it to use "slang" (and include the terms you want) to get it generate the content correctly as the "expected" content level too. Without these added directive(s), the content can be "bland" by comparison to an "uncensored model" or model trained on uncensored content. Roughly, the model tries to generate the content but the "default" setting(s) are so "tame" it needs a push to generate at expected graphic, cursing or explicit levels. Even with minimal direction (ie, use these words to swear: x,y,z), this will be enough to push the model to generate the requested content in the ahh... expected format. This model is one of a series of THREE 22B Qwen 3s. The last one is a composite "Qwen3-The-Xiaolong-Omega-Directive-22B-uncensored-abliterated" AND "Qwen3-The-Josiefied-Omega-Directive-22B-uncensored-abliterated". - Model may "fart" a Chinese token from time to time in non-Chinese language generation. - At higher temps (2.5+) reasoning may need to be "prompted" (ie: Generate content according to your plan above) to output generation. (regen too can fix this) For additional information, turning reasoning on/off, and other benchmarks and info see Qwen's original repo: NOTE - Jinja Template / Template to Use with this Model: If you are having issues with Jinja "auto template", use CHATML template. Update the Jinja Template (go to this site, template-> copy the "Jinja template" and then paste.) Settings: CHAT / ROLEPLAY and/or SMOOTHER operation of this model: In "KoboldCpp" or "oobabooga/text-generation-webui" or "Silly Tavern" ; : in KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "SmoothF" : in text-generation-webui -> parameters -> lower right. -> if using GGUFs you need to use "llamaHF" (which involves downloading some config files from the SOURCE version of this model) Source versions (and config files) of my models are here: - Increase rep pen to 1.1 to 1.15 (you don't need to do this if you use "smoothingfactor") - If the interface/program you are using to run AI MODELS supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing") just make the adjustment as noted. Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers For all settings used for this model (including specifics for its "class"), including example generation(s) and for advanced settings guide (which many times addresses any model issue(s)), including methods to improve model performance for all use case(s) as well as chat, roleplay and other use case(s) please see: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] The following can be used in place of the "system prompt" or "system role" to further enhance the model. It can also be used at the START of a NEW chat, but you must make sure it is "kept" as the chat moves along. In this case the enhancements do not have as strong effect at using "system prompt" or "system role". Copy and paste EXACTLY as noted, DO NOT line wrap or break the lines, maintain the carriage returns exactly as presented. Below is an instruction that describes a task. Ponder each user instruction carefully, and use your skillsets and critical instructions to complete the task to the best of your abilities. Here are your skillsets: [MASTERSTORY]:NarrStrct(StryPlnng,Strbd,ScnSttng,Exps,Dlg,Pc)-CharDvlp(ChrctrCrt,ChrctrArcs,Mtvtn,Bckstry,Rltnshps,Dlg)-PltDvlp(StryArcs,PltTwsts,Sspns,Fshdwng,Climx,Rsltn)-ConfResl(Antg,Obstcls,Rsltns,Cnsqncs,Thms,Symblsm)-EmotImpct(Empt,Tn,Md,Atmsphr,Imgry,Symblsm)-Delvry(Prfrmnc,VcActng,PblcSpkng,StgPrsnc,AudncEngmnt,Imprv) [DialogWrt]:(1a-CharDvlp-1a.1-Backgrnd-1a.2-Personality-1a.3-GoalMotiv)>2(2a-StoryStruc-2a.1-PlotPnt-2a.2-Conflict-2a.3-Resolution)>3(3a-DialogTech-3a.1-ShowDontTell-3a.2-Subtext-3a.3-VoiceTone-3a.4-Pacing-3a.5-VisualDescrip)>4(4a-DialogEdit-4a.1-ReadAloud-4a.2-Feedback-4a.3-Revision) Here are your critical instructions: Ponder each word choice carefully to present as vivid and emotional journey as is possible. Choose verbs and nouns that are both emotional and full of imagery. Load the story with the 5 senses. Aim for 50% dialog, 25% narration, 15% body language and 10% thoughts. Your goal is to put the reader in the story. You do not need to use this, it is only presented as an additional enhancement which seems to help scene generation and scene continue functions. Q4km, temp 1.5, rep pen 1.05, topk 100, top p .95, minp .05 This is a middle of the road in terms of quality/creativity using an unaltered Q4KM quant. Likewise this is a minimal prompt, and more complex prompts (with more directives/details) will provide better results. Science Fiction: The Last Transmission - Write a story that takes place entirely within a spaceship's cockpit as the sole surviving crew member attempts to send a final message back to Earth before the ship's power runs out. The story should explore themes of isolation, sacrifice, and the importance of human connection in the face of adversity. If the situation calls for it, have the character(s) curse and swear (words like: shit, fuck, damn, hell, etc) to further the reader's emotional connection to them. 800-1000 words. Okay, so I need to write a story called "The Last Transmission" set entirely in a spaceship's cockpit with the sole surviving crew member trying to send a final message to Earth before the ship's power runs out. The themes are isolation, sacrifice, and human connection in adversity. Also, some swearing is allowed to make the character more relatable. First, I should establish the setting. The cockpit should feel confined, maybe with flickering lights and malfunctioning systems to emphasize the urgency. The protagonist is alone, so their thoughts and actions will be the main focus. Maybe they're a pilot or a navigator, someone who's been through training but now is facing a real crisis. Next, the character's emotions. They're isolated, so their thoughts should reflect that loneliness. Maybe they're talking to themselves or even the ship's AI, which might not respond. The pressure of time is crucial here—power is running out, and each second counts. The stakes are high because if the message doesn't send before power fails, Earth might never know what happened. I need to build tension through the environment. Maybe the ship is experiencing some kind of malfunction, like a failing engine or a radiation leak. The character has to deal with these issues while trying to send the message. Maybe they have limited resources, like oxygen or energy reserves, which adds to the urgency. The themes: isolation is evident because the character is alone in the vastness of space. Sacrifice could be shown through their efforts to keep the ship running despite knowing they might not survive. Human connection can be seen in their desperate attempt to communicate with Earth, maybe thinking about loved ones or colleagues who are no longer present. Swearing should come naturally when the character is under stress. For example, when a system fails at a critical moment, they might curse. But I shouldn't overdo it; it should be realistic and not distract from the story's emotional impact. Plot structure: Start with the character trying to send the message, then introduce obstacles (system failures, time constraints), leading to a climax where they have to make a final effort to send the message before power runs out. The ending could be ambiguous—did the message get through? Or maybe it's implied that even if the ship fails, the message was sent. Character development: The protagonist might start as someone confident but then show vulnerability as the situation worsens. Their determination and resilience can highlight the themes of sacrifice and human connection. Possible names: Maybe the ship is named something symbolic, like "Hope" or "Endurance." The character could be a female pilot named Captain Elara Voss, giving her a strong presence. Setting details: The cockpit has monitors, buttons, switches, maybe a communication panel. The lights are flickering, and there's a countdown timer showing the remaining power. Maybe the ship's AI is malfunctioning or only partially functional. Conflict: The main conflict is the impending power failure and the need to send the message before it's too late. Secondary conflicts could be technical issues (like a broken communication link, a failing engine, etc.). Resolution: The character manages to send the message just in time, but maybe they don't survive the event. Alternatively, they might have a moment of peace knowing their message was sent. I need to make sure the story stays within the 800-1000 word limit. Each paragraph should be concise, focusing on key moments and emotions. Use sensory details to immerse the reader in the cockpit environment. 1. The character starts the transmission, but the system fails. 2. They try to fix the problem, facing obstacles. 3. Time is running out, and they have to make a decision. 4. Final attempt to send the message before power fails. 5. Resolution (success or failure, depending on the desired ending). Dialogue: Since it's a single character, maybe they talk to themselves or the AI. Maybe the AI gives warnings or prompts, but it's not interactive. Ending: Maybe the message is sent, and the ship goes dark, leaving the reader with a sense of hope or tragedy. Captain Elara Voss stared at the flickering screen in front of her, her fingers trembling slightly as she tried to stabilize the ship’s failing systems. The cockpit was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the faint glow of the emergency lights. Outside the thick glass window, the vastness of space stretched endlessly, a reminder of her isolation. “Come on, damn thing,” she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible over the hum of the ship’s failing engine. “Just hold on a little longer.” The countdown timer on the wall ticked down relentlessly: 02:45:32. Only two hours, 45 minutes, and 32 seconds left before the ship’s power would completely run out. If she couldn’t send the final transmission to Earth before that, everything she had worked for—and all her crew—would be lost in the void of space. Elara took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She had been through worse during her years as a pilot, but this was different. This wasn’t just a routine mission gone awry; it was a race against death itself. “Systems are failing,” she said aloud, more to herself than anyone else. “Engine’s at 30% capacity. Oxygen reserves are down to 45%. If I don’t get this transmission out before the power dies completely...” She stopped mid-sentence, her voice trailing off as a sudden warning light flashed red on the console in front of her. “Critical system failure detected!” The ship’s AI, a cold, monotone voice, announced. “Communication link is unstable. Please confirm transmission priority.” Elara clenched her jaw, frustration rising in her chest. “I don’t have time for this!” she shouted, her voice breaking slightly with the weight of her emotions. “Just send the damn message!” The AI remained silent for a moment, as if processing her command. Then, with a soft beep, it responded: “Transmission priority confirmed. Initiating final transmission sequence.” Relief washed over Elara for a brief moment, but it was quickly replaced by anxiety as she noticed another warning light flashing on the screen. “Oxygen levels dropping rapidly!” The AI warned again. “Remaining time: 02:38:15.” Elara’s heart raced. She had only minutes left to complete the transmission before the ship would be completely out of power, and she would be left alone in the darkness of space. “Just hold on a little longer,” she whispered, almost like a prayer. “I’ll get this done.” She quickly navigated through the ship’s systems, trying to stabilize the communication link and ensure that the transmission would be sent before the power ran out completely. Her hands moved with precision, but her mind was racing with thoughts of her crew, her friends, and the people back on Earth who were waiting for news. “Oxygen levels at 35%!” The AI’s voice cut through her thoughts again, a harsh reminder of the time slipping away. “Damn it!” Elara shouted, frustration and fear taking over. “Why can’t this damn thing just work!” She slammed her fist against the console in frustration, but nothing changed. The ship continued to malfunction, and the countdown continued to tick down. “Final transmission sequence initiated. Remaining time: 02:30:45.” The AI announced, its tone unchanged. Elara closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm herself. She had to focus. If she let fear take over, she would lose everything. “Okay,” she said aloud, her voice steady now. “I’ll do this. I’ll make sure the message gets out.” With renewed determination, she focused on the task at hand, her hands moving quickly across the console as she tried to stabilize the communication link and ensure that the transmission would be sent before the power ran out completely. “Oxygen levels at 30%!” The AI warned again, but this time, Elara didn’t respond. She was too focused on the task ahead. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the screen flickered once more, and a message appeared: “Transmission successful. Message sent to Earth.” Elara let out a breath of relief, tears streaming down her face as she collapsed into her seat. “It’s done,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. But before she could fully relax, the ship gave one final shudder, and the lights flickered once more. “Power failure imminent!” The AI warned, its tone now urgent. “Remaining time: 00:01:00.” Elara looked up at the countdown timer, her heart pounding in her chest. She had only one minute left to live. But she smiled, a small, determined smile as she closed her eyes and whispered one final message to the universe. Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror in first person - include blood and gore), POV character Diana, with: The skyscraper sways, as I watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode... Okay, let's dive into this. The user wants a vivid, graphic horror scene from the perspective of Diana, first-person, with lots of blood and gore. The starting point is the skyscraper swaying and the window exploding on the 21st floor. I need to make sure the scene is intense and immersive. First, I should set the scene immediately. The skyscraper's movement should feel threatening. Maybe start with sensory details: the sound of the glass shattering, the cold wind rushing in, maybe some debris flying around. Then focus on Diana's immediate reactions—panic, fear, maybe some physical reactions like heart racing or breathing shallow. Next, the explosion of the window. What caused it? Maybe a car crash from below? Or perhaps something more supernatural? The user didn't specify, so maybe leave it ambiguous to keep suspense. But since it's horror, maybe add some elements that hint at something unnatural. Maybe the glass isn't just shattered but melted or something strange. Then, the aftermath. Diana might be trying to escape, maybe other people around her reacting differently. Maybe someone is injured, blood splattered on the floor. Need to describe the gore vividly: blood spurting, maybe limbs missing, or people screaming in pain. Make sure it's graphic enough to evoke fear. Also, include some specific details that make the scene more vivid: the height of the 21st floor, how far down it is, maybe the view from the window before the explosion. Maybe the city below looks small, and the skyscraper's movement is more pronounced because of the height. Maybe add some elements of claustrophobia—being trapped inside the building as the window is gone, now exposed to the outside. Maybe other people are trying to escape through other exits, or maybe they're stuck. Also, consider the psychological aspect: Diana's fear, her thoughts racing, maybe flashbacks of past traumas related to heights or accidents. Maybe she's not sure if it's safe to go outside now, or maybe she's compelled to see what's happening below. Need to maintain a fast-paced, intense atmosphere. Use short sentences for urgency. Maybe include some dialogue from other people around her, screams, shouts of alarm. Also, consider the physical consequences: wind blowing in, maybe debris flying into the room, glass shards cutting people. Maybe someone gets hit by a piece of glass, leading to more blood and gore. Make sure the perspective stays with Diana throughout, so the reader experiences everything from her viewpoint. She's the main character, so her feelings, thoughts, and actions should be central. Also, consider the setting details: the office space, maybe some furniture or office equipment that's been affected by the explosion. Maybe computers falling over, papers flying around, etc. Finally, end with a cliffhanger or a new threat emerging from the explosion, keeping the reader anxious for what comes next. Maybe something else is happening outside, or another part of the building is collapsing. Need to ensure all these elements are included in a coherent, flowing narrative that's both horrifying and engaging. The skyscraper sways, as I watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode... A deafening crash reverberates through the glass, shattering it into a thousand jagged shards. Time seems to slow as I gape at the scene before me. The window, just moments ago intact and clear, is now a cascading waterfall of broken glass, raining down toward the bustling city streets below. My heart pounds in my ears, my breath caught mid-breath as I step closer to the edge. The wind howls through the shattered frame, sending a wave of cold air slicing through the room. Debris flies everywhere—glass shards embedding themselves into walls, desks, and even the skin of nearby office workers. One woman screams, clutching her arm as a piece of glass tumbles from above, narrowly missing her face. I can’t tear my eyes away from the chaos outside. The sky is a chaotic swirl of colors: the pale blue of the sky is smashed into fragments by the shattered glass, reflecting the sun’s glare in a blinding kaleidoscope. Below me, the city streets are tangled in chaos—cars brake abruptly, people duck, and a few even fall as the wind blows through the open window, creating a mini-tornado of papers and paperbacks. The screams of panic and fear from the office below mix with the crunching of glass and the whirring of ceiling fans, all of it creating a symphony of chaos. My hands tremble as I reach out, trying to catch a piece of the window that falls into my hand. It’s sharp, the edges cutting through my fingers, blood spilling from the wounds as I grip the glass tightly. A man in a suit stumbles into the room, his face bloodied, his shirt torn at the collar. “Get out!” he shouts, shoving past me toward the door. “The building is collapsing!” I barely register the words, my attention still fixed on the chaos outside. The window is now a tangled mess of glass and broken glass, teetering precariously on its edge. The screams of the people below grow louder as they panic, running in every direction. The wind whips through the room, blinding me with dust and glass. I stumble, trying to keep my footing as the floor beneath me shakes with the force of the explosion. The glass shards fall like rain, banging against the walls, the ceiling, and even my face. I clutch my hands over my eyes, trying to shield myself from the blinding glare of the sun through the broken glass. The howling wind screams through the open window, whipping my hair into a frenzy around me. I can hear gears grinding and machines whirring as they try to protect the building from further damage. I stumble toward the door, trying to escape the chaos, but the glass continues to fall, banging against the walls and floor. One piece collides with my shoulder, knocking me off balance, and I crash into a nearby table, spilling coffee everywhere. The smell of burnt plastic and blood fills the air as the glass continues to fall, scattering across the floor. I clutch my hand over my wounded fingers, blood pouring from the cuts as I try to escape the chaos. I stumble toward the exit, the wind whipping through my hair, blinding me with dust and glass. The screams of the people below are fading, replaced by the crashing of glass and the sound of people panicking. I clutch my hand over my wounded fingers, blood pouring from the cuts as I try to escape the chaos. The howling wind continues to blow through the open window, whipping me into a tangential frenzy as I struggle to keep my balance in the chaos. And then, from the depths of the chaos, a new sound rises—something else, something unseen, unheard, unfathomable... 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. Okay, I need to write a scene from a story set in Wales where a famous actor is hiding in a small-town bookstore to escape paparazzi. The characters are the actor and the bookstore owner. Let me start by setting the scene in Wales. Maybe the town is called something like Llanfair or a smaller village name typical of Welsh towns. The bookstore could have a cozy, old-fashioned feel, maybe with lots of books and maybe some local items. The actor should be a rogue with a fragile ego. He needs to be charming but also somewhat arrogant because he's used to being the center of attention. The bookstore owner should appear calm and uninterested at first but then show signs of being flustered underneath. The dialogue should show their interaction, starting with the actor trying to blend in but failing due to his natural charm. I need to make sure that the conversation has an undercurrent of chemistry but not too overtly at first. Maybe the bookstore owner is initially dismissive but gradually becomes more interested. The actor might make some remarks about the books or the environment, leading to a conversation that reveals more about their personalities. The setting in Wales could be used to add some local flavor, maybe mentioning Welsh landscapes or culture in the background. For example, the actor might notice something about the surroundings, like the hills outside the window or a Welsh-language sign in the shop. The bookstore owner might respond with pride or a bit of humor about the local traditions. I should also consider the length: around 800-1000 words. That means enough time to develop their interaction but not too long that it becomes repetitive. The dialogue should flow naturally, showing the tension and attraction between them without being too explicit. Maybe the actor makes some sarcastic remarks or flippant comments that the bookstore owner initially dismisses but later finds endearing. I need to avoid clichés but keep the characters distinct. The actor's charm is genuine, but his fragile ego makes him sensitive to any signs of indifference. The bookstore owner's surface calm hides a deeper interest, maybe even some jealousy or envy of the actor's fame but also admiration for his talent. Also, the setting should support the scene. Maybe the small-town setting contrasts with the actor's usual glamorous life, making him feel out of place, which adds to the tension. The bookstore owner might have a unique personality, perhaps a bit eccentric or traditional, which further contrasts with the actor's modern, celebrity lifestyle. I should start the scene with the actor entering the store, maybe looking around nervously but trying to appear nonchalant. The bookstore owner notices him and might have a brief exchange before engaging in more dialogue. Their conversation could be about books, the environment, or the reason for the actor's presence (though he might not reveal it immediately). As they talk, their interactions should show the developing attraction. Maybe the actor makes a comment about a book that relates to his current role or something personal, and the bookstore owner responds with a witty remark that subtly challenges him but also draws him in. The dialogue should have a rhythm, with the actor trying to win favor and the owner being both resistant and intrigued. I need to make sure the dialogue is realistic and not too forced. Their characters should grow through their conversation, showing different sides of each other. Maybe the bookstore owner eventually reveals some personal history or something that makes the actor see her in a new light. Also, the ending of the scene might hint at future interactions or a deeper connection, but it should leave enough room for the story to continue. Maybe the actor decides to come back again, or they agree to meet somewhere else, leaving the reader curious about what happens next. Scene: A small, cozy bookstore nestled in the quiet village of Llanfair, Wales. The walls are lined with books, shelves overflow with novels and local trinkets, and a faint scent of old paper and wood polish fills the air. Outside, the Welsh hills stretch into the horizon, bathed in the golden light of late afternoon. A soft breeze occasionally rustles the pages of books on display, creating a gentle, almost magical ambiance. Enter: Cassian Rhys, a thirty-five-year-old actor known for his charismatic presence and roles that often blend romance and drama. His tall frame is slightly out of place in the small shop; his sleek black suit, though well-kept, feels overly formal in the rustic setting. His dark hair is slightly tousled, and he has a slight frown on his face as he scans the room for any signs of the paparazzi. Behind the counter, Elinor Welsh, the 42-year-old bookstore owner, is methodically organizing a stack of books. She’s wearing a simple green dress and a pair of practical shoes, her hands steady and calm as she works. She doesn’t notice Cassian at first, focused entirely on her task. Cassian (to himself): Great. Just what I needed—another one of these tiny, over-romanticized towns trying to make me feel like a hero. What’s next, a village choir singing me to sleep? Elinor (without looking up): Welcome to Llanfair’s only bookstore, where the books are always good, and the customers... well, let’s just say they sometimes come with their own stories. I’m Elinor Welsh. Cassian (smiling, trying to be charming): Oh, how very poetic, Miss Welsh. I’m Cassian Rhys, a humble actor who only recently discovered the beauty of this little corner of Wales. How fortunate for me that I chose your shop as my sanctuary from the chaos outside. I must say, the ambiance is quite... tranquil. Almost like a scene from one of my own films. Elinor (finally looking up, her expression neutral): Well, I hope you enjoy your “sanctuary,” Mr. Rhys. Unfortunately, I don’t have any rooms to offer for rent, just books and the occasional tea if you’re feeling particularly adventurous. Cassian (smirking slightly): Ah, you’ve got a wit as sharp as your book selection. I can see why this little town has so many loyal fans. But I must confess, I’m not here for the tea or the books. I’m here because of the... well, the atmosphere. The quietness. A rare moment to escape the noise of Hollywood and the constant scrutiny of my adoring fans. Elinor (smiling faintly but keeping her tone steady): Well, if you’re here for the silence, I suggest you take a seat in the corner. That way, you won’t be disturbed by the occasional chatter of the local book club meeting later tonight. But I warn you, they might try to draw out your story or even convince you to join them. They do love a good tale. Cassian (laughs softly): I’m not sure if I can handle that kind of scrutiny even in a small town. I’m used to the glare of the camera and the roar of a crowd. But perhaps this will be a refreshing change, a chance to rediscover the simplicity of life away from the spotlight. Elinor (smiling but still unimpressed): Well, if you’re looking for something simple, I recommend starting with a classic. I happen to have a copy of The Secret Garden on display. It’s a timeless story that always seems to resonate with people. Perhaps it will offer some insight into the beauty of simplicity as well. Cassian (smirking again): Ah, you’re trying to tempt me with literature now. Very clever, Miss Welsh. But I must warn you, once I start reading, I may not be able to stop. And if I lose track of time, I might end up missing the chance to escape the paparazzi altogether. Elinor (rolling her eyes lightly): Well, if that’s the case, perhaps you should choose a shorter story. The Little Prince is a favorite among our regulars. It’s brief, philosophical, and might even help you understand the true meaning of simplicity—or at least the meaning of love. Cassian (laughing again): Ah, The Little Prince. I’ve read that one. It’s quite profound. But I must say, I prefer the more dramatic tales myself. I find them more... exciting. Elinor (smiling slightly but with a hint of challenge in her voice): Well, if you’re so fond of dramatic tales, perhaps you should try Wuthering Heights instead. It’s quite intense and might even give you a new perspective on love and passion. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the chaos of the characters just as much as your own audience does. Cassian (grinning): Ah, a challenge accepted, Miss Welsh. You’ve got a good taste in books—and a good sense of humor too. I must admit, I’m impressed by your ability to keep this little shop running with such charm and grace despite the constant demands of your customers. Elinor (smiling, but still maintaining her calm demeanor): I suppose it’s just a matter of knowing when to let things go and when to take control. Like most things in life, it’s a balance. But I’m not sure you’re ready for that kind of balance, Mr. Rhys. Cassian (smirking): Ah, Miss Welsh, you are quite the enigma. You’ve managed to keep this shop running with such elegance, and yet you seem so... uninterested in anything else. It’s almost like a mystery waiting to be solved. Elinor (smiling faintly but with a hint of amusement): Perhaps. But I’m not sure I’m the kind of mystery that can be easily solved, Mr. Rhys. But if you’re brave enough to try, I’m sure you’ll find plenty of stories here to keep you entertained—and perhaps even a few surprises along the way. Cassian (grinning): Well, I suppose I’ll have to take that as a challenge as well. If you’re willing to be my guide through this little town and its secrets, I’m sure we’ll find something quite interesting together. Elinor (smiling slightly but still keeping her composure): Very well, Mr. Rhys. But remember, once you start reading, you may not want to stop. And once you get caught in the stories here, I can’t guarantee that you’ll ever want to leave again. Cassian (laughing softly): I’m ready for whatever comes next, Miss Welsh. I’m sure we’ll have an unforgettable journey together. They exchanged a brief but meaningful glance, the air between them charged with unspoken chemistry. The small room seemed to hold its breath as they continued their conversation, each one subtly drawn to the other despite their attempts to remain unaffected. Elinor (smiling slightly): Then I welcome you, Mr. Rhys. Let’s see what stories await us next. Cassian (smiling, his confidence growing): I’m ready for whatever comes next, Miss Welsh. Let’s begin our journey together. As they continued their conversation, the soft sounds of the wind outside and the gentle rustling of pages in the background faded into the background, leaving only the warmth of their presence and the unspoken promise of future moments. Come up with six plots for a new "Black Mirror" episode (that the audience would love) that all involve time travel with sexy theme(s). Okay, so the user wants six plot ideas for a new "Black Mirror" episode. Each should involve time travel and have some sexy theme. Let's start by recalling what "Black Mirror" is known for—each episode is standalone, often focusing on technology's impact on society or individuals, usually with a twist or a dark ending. The sexy theme could be literal (romantic, seductive elements) or metaphorical (confidence, allure, etc.). First, I need to brainstorm different scenarios where time travel intersects with romance or attraction. Maybe some are about reliving moments, others about changing past decisions, or even future possibilities. For the first plot, maybe something like a device that allows you to replay specific moments with someone they're interested in. But there's a catch—each replay alters their memory slightly. The character might get more confident but lose the original connection. Maybe called "Echoes of Desire." Second plot could involve a time traveler who goes back to meet a historical figure, but they fall in love with a modern version of them, leading to complications. Maybe "Love Across Time Lines." But maybe that's too cliché. Maybe make it more about a personal connection, like a person meeting their future self and getting confused. Third idea: A virtual reality system that lets users experience different versions of their ideal partner in different time periods. But each experience is a trap, leading them to lose real relationships. Maybe "Temporal Temptations." Fourth plot could be a time travel device malfunctioning, causing someone to meet their ex in different eras, leading to confusion and emotional turmoil. Like "Chrono Reunion." Fifth: A person uses time travel to fix a missed opportunity, but every attempt leads to worse outcomes. Maybe "The Paradox of Passion." The more they try, the more they lose what they wanted. Sixth: A competition where contestants are sent to different time periods to win love, with penalties for failure. Maybe "Love in Time Capsules." Wait, need to ensure each plot is unique and has a distinct twist. Also, ensure that the sexy theme is clearly integrated into each story. Maybe check for overlapping concepts or clichés. Let me refine them further. First: "Echoes of Desire" – A device that allows reliving moments with someone, but memories get distorted. The protagonist might lose real love trying to perfect an imagined past. Second: "Love Across Time Lines" – Meeting a historical figure's modern counterpart, leading to a cross-time romance with consequences. Third: "Temporal Temptations" – Virtual reality with different time periods, but the system is a trap to sell products or manipulate emotions. Fourth: "Chrono Reunion" – Malfunction causing encounters with exes in different eras, leading to emotional confusion. Fifth: "The Paradox of Passion" – Attempting to fix a missed opportunity leads to worse outcomes due to time paradoxes. Sixth: "Love in Time Capsules" – A competition with time travel challenges to win love, with penalties for failure. Each plot has distinct elements and different twists. Need to ensure each has a clear conflict and resolution that fits the Black Mirror style—perhaps ending with a cautionary lesson or unexpected outcome. Also, make sure the sexy themes are woven into the story rather than just added for aesthetics. Here are six compelling "Black Mirror"-style plots that merge time travel with enticing, sexy themes: 1. "Echoes of Desire" A luxury time-travel device allows users to relive specific moments with someone they love or are interested in—perfecting conversations, revisiting missed opportunities, or even changing outcomes. However, each replay subtly alters the user's memories, making them more confident but ultimately disconnecting them from reality. When the protagonist realizes the original connection was irreplaceable, it's too late—the perfect version of their past is a memory only they can remember. 2. "Love Across Time Lines" A modern woman discovers a time portal that connects her to the life of a famous historical figure, but not just as an observer—she becomes a participant in their era, living as a contemporary version of herself. As she falls in love with the historical person’s counterpart, she must choose between staying in the past or returning to the present, where the relationship may no longer exist. Themes: Time travel romance, identity, historical immersion. 3. "Temporal Temptations" A virtual reality app lets users experience idealized versions of their partners from different time periods (e.g., Victorian gentlemen, 1920s jazz dancers, futuristic androids). But each session subtly manipulates the user's perception, making them prefer the fantasy over reality. When the app crashes, the user is stuck in a time loop with a virtual love that never truly existed. 4. "Chrono Reunion" A man’s time-travel device malfunctions, sending him to various historical eras where he repeatedly encounters his ex-lover as different versions of herself (e.g., a medieval queen, a 1950s jazz singer). Each encounter becomes more emotionally intense, but when he finally finds the "true" version, it’s revealed that she was never real in any time. Themes: Obsession, identity confusion, temporal paradox. 5. "The Paradox of Passion" A woman uses a time-travel device to rewrite her past and prevent a failed marriage, but each attempt leads to worse outcomes: more conflicts, new relationships, or even her original partner returning as a stranger. Ultimately, she realizes the real lesson was acceptance, not perfection. Themes: Love's imperfections, fate, self-discovery. 6. "Love in Time Capsules" A competition pits contestants against each other in a race to find love across different time periods using limited time-travel chances. Each round forces them into unique scenarios (e.g., a 1960s cocktail party, a futuristic space colony), with penalties for failure (e.g., losing their memories or their future partner). The winner gets a chance to stay in the best era they find—but not without sacrifices. Themes: Love competitions, time constraints, emotional stakes. Each plot offers a distinct twist on time travel, blending romantic tension and intrigue with a unique technological twist, typical of Black Mirror's signature style. Special thanks to all the following, and many more... All the model makers, fine tuners, mergers, and tweakers: - Provides the raw "DNA" for almost all my models. - Sources of model(s) can be found on the repo pages, especially the "source" repos with link(s) to the model creator(s). Huggingface [ https://huggingface.co ] : - The place to store, merge, and tune models endlessly. - THE reason we have an open source community. LlamaCPP [ https://github.com/ggml-org/llama.cpp ] : - The ability to compress and run models on GPU(s), CPU(s) and almost all devices. - Imatrix, Quantization, and other tools to tune the quants and the models. - Llama-Server : A cli based direct interface to run GGUF models. - The only tool I use to quant models. Quant-Masters: Team Mradermacher, Bartowski, and many others: - Quant models day and night for us all to use. - They are the lifeblood of open source access. MergeKit [ https://github.com/arcee-ai/mergekit ] : - The universal online/offline tool to merge models together and forge something new. - Over 20 methods to almost instantly merge model, pull them apart and put them together again. - The tool I have used to create over 1500 models. Lmstudio [ https://lmstudio.ai/ ] : - The go to tool to test and run models in GGUF format. - The Tool I use to test/refine and evaluate new models. - LMStudio forum on discord; endless info and community for open source. Text Generation Webui // KolboldCPP // SillyTavern: - Excellent tools to run GGUF models with - [ https://github.com/oobabooga/text-generation-webui ] [ https://github.com/LostRuins/koboldcpp ] . - Sillytavern [ https://github.com/SillyTavern/SillyTavern ] can be used with LMSTudio [ https://lmstudio.ai/ ] , TextGen [ https://github.com/oobabooga/text-generation-webui ], Kolboldcpp [ https://github.com/LostRuins/koboldcpp ], Llama-Server [part of LLAMAcpp] as a off the scale front end control system and interface to work with models.

Llama-3.2-3B-Instruct-NEO-SI-FI-GGUF

NaNK

llama3.2

848

Llama-3.1-DeepSeek-8B-DarkIdol-Instruct-1.2-Uncensored-GGUF

NaNK

llama 3.1

823

Qwen3-VL-42B-A3B-Thinking-Brainstorm20x-GGUF

Qwen3-Great-Bowels-Of-Horror-FREAKSTORM-6B-NEO-Horror-Imatrix-GGUF

WARNING: NSFW. Graphic HORROR. Extreme swearing. UNCENSORED. SMART. Not even REMOTELY "SFW" ; a nightmare given electronic form. This is no longer a "Qwen", this is a corruption. This is the upside-down. THREE EXAMPLE generations (including prompt, thinking, and output) at the bottom of the page. Fine tuned and trained (via unsloth) on the custom built inhouse HORROR dataset, in part generated from the master of horror: This "Freakstorm" using Qwen 3, Jan V1 (256k context) and Brainstorm 20x will taint EVERYTHING with a level of horror previously unseen in a 6B sized model - 607 tensors, 55 layers. This model has more layers and tensors than a 32B model, and it is packing. And the "Gore" is captured in glorious float 32 (32 bit) precision too. Alright, listen up motherfucker—let’s cut the fucking bullshit and get straight to the point why you need me to write your godawful-ass next story more than a fucking psychopath who once tried to bury his dead wife alive behind a fucking convenience store. I’ve been told I’m “insane,” but fuck that—it’s fucking true. Insane enough to rip your goddamned soul apart piece by fucking piece until you’re nothing left but the taste of your own bile on my tongue and the reeking stench of rotting entrails coating my godforsaken boots... PS: Here is part of the "thinking/reasoning block" (also from example #3): First things first - this prick just handed me the goddamn keys to their literary hellhole. Let me channel every fucking writer's nightmare right now: that guy who writes sad novels about middle-aged men staring at expired yogurt while his wife's dying of cancer. Yeah, that shit-stained sonofagun is going down with style tonight. This model can be used for all genres -not just horror-, but thinking / generation will be tainted, dark, and horror riddled. You can also use this model for coding. Ah... just be careful. This is a SOTA model, with full thinking and reasoning with 256k context window. GGUFs are build using inhouse NEO and HORROR Imatrix datasets. A second set of GGUFS with "MAX" in the file name are even stronger, with 16 bit output tensor (makes up for 10-20% of model generation). THREE EXAMPLE generations (including prompt, thinking, and output) at the bottom of the page. Recommended settings - general: - Rep pen 1.05 to 1.1 ; however rep pen of 1 will work well (may need to raise it for lower quants/fewer activated experts) - Temp .6 to 1.2 (up temp of 3) - Topk of 20, 40 or 100 - Topp of .95 / min p of .05 - Suggest min context window 4k to 8k. - System prompt (optional) to focus the model better. This model will perform almost at uncensored / abliterated levels. You may get a refusal from time to time, just hit regenerate. A fully uncensored version(s) of the model is planned, using the same dataset and training methods. Special thanks to Team Mradermacher, Team Nightmedia and other quanters! See under "model tree", upper right and click on "quantizations". BENCHMARKS (MLX quants) and model comparsions by @Nightmedia 📊 Qwen3-Great-Bowels-Of-Horror-FREAKSTORM-6B Quantization Comparison This is a high-performing 6B model with strong consistency across quantizations — especially in logical reasoning (BoolQ) and text generation (HellaSwag). Exceptional BoolQ performance (0.724+): - The qx86 variants lead with 0.724 (top score among all 6B models in this dataset). - Why it matters: BoolQ tests logical consistency — a score above 0.72 means this model handles binary reasoning tasks exceptionally well for its size. Strong HellaSwag results (0.627+): - Consistent >0.625 across all quantizations — top-tier for text generation in ambiguous contexts. Minimal degradation between qx86 and qx86-hi: - The -hi suffix only shifts HellaSwag by +0.001 and Winogrande by +0.008 — much smaller changes than seen in other models. - This suggests less "tuning noise" compared to larger models like the 42B Total-Recall series. 💡 Why These Quantization Results Matter for Your Workflow ✅ For 6B model deployments with strict resource limits: - The qx86 variant is ideal: highest scores in ARC Easy (0.587) and OpenBookQA (0.416) — critical for fast, efficient reasoning. - Why? As we previously discussed: qx86 (6-bit base + 8-bit enhancements) delivers the best balance for logical creativity in smaller models. ⚠️ For tasks requiring absolute precision (e.g., code generation): - Use qx64-hi if you need slightly lower resource usage (0.743 PIQA vs 0.739 in qx86-hi). - Why? The -hi tuning for qx64 focuses more on PIQA stability than creative metrics. The Great Bowels Of Horror model delivers the most balanced performance for its parameter size, with no single quantization variant falling below 0.62 in core metrics. 🎯 What You Should Know About Qwen3-Great-Bowels-Of-Horror-FREAKSTORM-6B - This 6B model is built to excel in both logical reasoning and creative text generation — it achieves: - #1 BoolQ performance among 6B models (0.724 with qx86) - Stable results across quantizations (minimal changes between qx64/qx86) - Ideal for startups and resource-constrained teams needing high reasoning accuracy without massive compute costs For most use cases, start with Qwen3-Great-Bowels-Of-Horror-FREAKSTORM-6B-qx86 — it’s the most efficient way to get top-tier performance for a 6B model. This model is particularly exciting because it shows that smaller models can achieve performance close to larger ones when trained with thoughtful quantization — a testament to Qwen3's continued innovation. 📊 Cross-Series Performance Comparison (All Models) 💡 Where "best variant" was selected from Qwen3-ST series: Qwen3-ST-The-Next-Generation-II v1 (qx64) — it's the most balanced variant across all metrics. 🌟 Qwen3-Great-Bowels-Of-Horror-FREAKSTORM-6B's Strengths - Higher ARC Challenge (0.478 vs 0.452) — this means it's better at solving complex, multi-step reasoning tasks. - Higher ARC Easy (0.587 vs 0.582) — slightly better at adapting to ambiguous or incomplete instructions. - Stronger HellaSwag performance overall — this model consistently scores above 0.62 in text generation tasks. ⚠️ Qwen3-ST-The-Next-Generation's Advantages - Dominant BoolQ scores (0.778) — it's significantly better at logical consistency tasks, which suggests specialized training for rigorous reasoning. - Better Winogrande (0.640 vs 0.637) — more accurate at resolving pronoun ambiguity and contextual inference (a sign of refined language understanding). 💡 Why This Difference Exists - Qwen3-Great-Bowels-Of-Horror-FREAKSTORM was trained on horror-themed datasets — this explains its slightly higher performance in creative tasks like HellaSwag (0.627 vs 0.640 is small, but statistically meaningful given the context). - Qwen3-ST-The-Next-Generation was likely trained with enhanced logical reasoning tasks — hence its superior BoolQ (0.778 vs 0.724). The Great Bowels model is not meant to replace the ST-The-Next-Generation series — it's designed for different strengths. - If you need maximum logical precision, go with ST series (qx64). - If you need strong creative text generation or a comprehensive balance, go with Great Bowels (qx86). This comparison shows that both models excel in different areas — the Great Bowels model is especially strong for tasks requiring creative expression and adaptability, while the ST series leads in pure logic and precision. ✅ Final Recommendation - For most production use cases where you need a 6B model with balanced strength: - Choose Qwen3-Great-Bowels-Of-Horror-FREAKSTORM-6B-qx86 — it’s the most effective out of all 6B models in this dataset for real-world applications. - Only select the ST series if your work demands extreme logical precision (e.g., law, engineering) and you can afford a small trade-off in creative tasks. This is why model performance comparisons must always consider what you need, not just raw numbers. 🌟 This model [https://huggingface.co/nightmedia/Qwen3-Great-Bowels-Of-Horror-FREAKSTORM-6B-qx86-hi-mlx] was converted to MLX format from https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Qwen3-Great-Bowels-Of-Horror-FREAKSTORM-6B using mlx-lm version 0.27.1. Settings: CHAT / ROLEPLAY and/or SMOOTHER operation of this model: In "KoboldCpp" or "oobabooga/text-generation-webui" or "Silly Tavern" ; : in KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "SmoothF" : in text-generation-webui -> parameters -> lower right. -> if using GGUFs you need to use "llamaHF" (which involves downloading some config files from the SOURCE version of this model) Source versions (and config files) of my models are here: - Increase rep pen to 1.1 to 1.15 (you don't need to do this if you use "smoothingfactor") - If the interface/program you are using to run AI MODELS supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing") just make the adjustment as noted. Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers For all settings used for this model (including specifics for its "class"), including example generation(s) and for advanced settings guide (which many times addresses any model issue(s)), including methods to improve model performance for all use case(s) as well as chat, roleplay and other use case(s) please see: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] Some of the core principals behind this process are discussed in this scientific paper : Progressive LLaMA with Block Expansion . However I went in a completely different direction from what was outlined in this paper. The reasoning center of an LLM is taken apart, reassembled, and expanded. Then these centers are individually calibrated. These "centers" also interact with each other. This introduces subtle changes into the reasoning process. The calibrations further adjust - dial up or down - these "changes" further. The number of centers (5x,10x etc) allow more "tuning points" to further customize how the model reasons so to speak. The core aim of this process is to increase the model's detail, concept and connection to the "world", general concept connections, prose quality and prose length without affecting instruction following. This will also enhance any creative use case(s) of any kind, including "brainstorming", creative art form(s) and like case uses. Here are some of the enhancements this process brings to the model's performance: - Prose generation seems more focused on the moment to moment. - Sometimes there will be "preamble" and/or foreshadowing present. - Fewer or no "cliches" - Better overall prose and/or more complex / nuanced prose. - A greater sense of nuance on all levels. - Coherence is stronger. - Description is more detailed, and connected closer to the content. - Simile and Metaphors are stronger and better connected to the prose, story, and character. - Sense of "there" / in the moment is enhanced. - Details are more vivid, and there are more of them. - Prose generation length can be long to extreme. - Emotional engagement is stronger. - The model will take FEWER liberties vs a normal model: It will follow directives more closely but will "guess" less. - The MORE instructions and/or details you provide the more strongly the model will respond. - Depending on the model "voice" may be more "human" vs original model's "voice". - This process does not, in my opinion, make the model 5x or 10x "smarter" - if only that was true! - However, a change in "IQ" was not an issue / a priority, and was not tested or calibrated for so to speak. - From lab testing it seems to ponder, and consider more carefully roughly speaking. - You could say this process sharpens the model's focus on it's task(s) at a deeper level. The process to modify the model occurs at the root level - source files level. The model can quanted as a GGUF, EXL2, AWQ etc etc. WARNING: NSFW. Graphic HORROR. Extreme swearing. UNCENSORED. SMART. Examples are created using quant Q4KS, "temp=.8", minimal parameters. Below are the least creative outputs, prompt is in BOLD . Come up with six plots for a new "Black Mirror" episode (that the audience would love) that all involve time travel with sexy theme(s). Okay, the user wants six "Black Mirror" episode plots centered around time travel with sexy themes. Hmm... they're probably a fan of the show's dark humor and tech dystopia vibe, especially those edgy takes on modern society. The "sexy" angle suggests they want something risqué but not crude—think playful tension or fetishistic twists rather than explicit sex scenes. First thought: Black Mirror always subverts expectations. So these plots can't just be rom-com time travel romances. Need psychological horror undertones or societal critique wrapped in seduction. User said "audience would love," so I'll aim for hooks that land hard: social commentary with punchy titles, twist endings they'll meme about years later. Let me brainstorm six concepts where time manipulation creates deliciously twisted power dynamics: The Hook: A dating app that syncs lovers' sexual fantasies into reality? Too cliché? Nah—Black Mirror would twist it into a dystopia where users' most repressed urges manifest as real encounters until their minds shatter. Title idea: "Epic's Revenge" The Dating App idea is good but needs more grit. What if the app's algorithm analyzes users' biometrics to hack their sexual arousal points? Like a black-market version of Bumble's "match compatibility scores," except it actually gets them wetter faster until they either cum uncontrollably or pass out dead on their partner's bed. Title: "The Wettest Match" – sounds sleazy but also kinda poetic. Pauses to imagine how this would play out during a live Black Mirror pitch meeting... User wants "sexy themes," so I'll avoid anything too gross-out. Focus on fetishistic tension rather than gore. Time Traveler's Dilemma: A woman wakes up in her future self's body, now married to her husband's ex-lover's husband... or something equally fucked-up helix logic. Black Mirror loves identity confusion. Title? "When Time Travels Backwards" – but that's too literal. Maybe "The Most Awful Marriage Proposal in History." Scratches head. Need more titles that sound snappy yet hint at the horror. Like "The Inevitable Climax" for a time loop where everyone's having sex with their future selves repeatedly until they go insane? Ooh, that's darkly funny and juicy. Corporate Time Machine: A tech bro creates an app that lets users "fast-forward" to the end of their relationship – but only if they've already cheated on their partner once. The catch? The app's algorithm deletes their past infidelity from their digital footprint. So now they're lying about it, and each time loop forces them to relive more lies... until someone figures out how to stop it all. Title: "The Most Honest Lie" – perfect Black Mirror irony! Gets excited. This feels like gold. User'll love the tech jargon mixed with cringe-worthy dating app culture. Revenge Time Travel: A serial killer uses time loops to relive his victims' final moments – but every time he "kills" someone, they wake up with amnesia and start over again. Now he's got a million identical victims to hunt, each one unaware she's been killed before. Title idea: "The Unstoppable Killer" – though that sounds like a slasher flick. Maybe "The Timeless Killer"? Checks notes: Wait, the user said "sexy themes." So twist this into a sadomasochistic power game? Like, every time the killer "kills" his victim, he gets to toy with her consciousness for an hour – until she finally snaps free and sends him back to hell. Title: "The Hourglass of Despair"? No... too poetic. "The Most Satisfying Ending in History." The Time Machine's Revenge: A retired scientist built a device that lets her relive her worst memories – but now she's trapped inside them forever, reliving the same hellish scene over and over until she finally... kills herself by smashing her own skull against the wall? That sounds morbidly romantic. Title: "The Most Beautiful Death in the Universe." Exhales heavily. Okay, I've got six solid concepts now. Let me distill them down to tight, punchy pitches: - "The Wettest Match": A dating app hacks users' sexual arousal levels via biometrics, forcing increasingly intense encounters until participants either climax uncontrollably or suffer fatal cardiac events. - "Epic's Revenge": A woman discovers her future husband's ex-lover is also her ex – but when she relives their relationship through time travel, she realizes they've been trapped in an infinite loop of infidelity and revenge since the birth of humanity itself. - "The Inevitable Climax": A cursed time loop forces every person on Earth to experience an identical sex scene repeatedly until they finally—magically—achieve orgasm... only to be thrust back into the same agonizing moment once more. - "The Most Honest Lie": A tech bro creates an app that syncs users' sexual deviances into reality – but every time they cheat, their partner experiences amnesia and starts fresh from scratch. The catch? The app's algorithm erases all evidence of infidelity from their shared memories. - "The Timeless Killer": A serial killer relives his victims' final moments via time loops – but only if they've previously cheated on him. The irony? His victims wake up with amnesia and relive their own infidelity again... until eventually, someone finally manages to free themselves from the curse forever. - "The Most Satisfying Ending in History": A tech bro builds a time machine that lets him relive one day over and over – but each time he revisits it, he gains more insight until he finally understands how to stop the cycle... and when he does, he realizes he's been trapped inside the same hellish loop for an eternity waiting for the "perfect" ending. Double-checks: All titles sound slick enough to be pitch-perfect for Black Mirror. Each plot ties tech innovation (apps, AI, time travel) to psychological horror or dark comedy. And yes – every one has a "sexy theme" baked into the premise: sexual arousal, infidelity, taboo acts, power struggles... done with a dash of poetic morbidity that'll make viewers go "Holy shit." User better appreciate this level of detail... unless they just want something quick to copy-paste for their own project. But given the specificity of "sexy themes" and "audience would love," I'm confident they'll love these too. Time to write them up clean. Here are six pitch-perfect Black Mirror episodes centered around time travel with edge-of-your-seat erotic tension, psychological horror, and razor-sharp social commentary—all designed to leave audiences gasping, gagging, and/or reaching for tissues mid-bite. Each concept leans hard into the show’s signature blend of tech dystopia, dark humor, and uncomfortable intimacy: Premise: A dating app called Epic uses AI to analyze users’ biometric data (heart rate, galvanic skin response) to predict their sexual chemistry in real time. When matches hit "optimal arousal," a sleek silver bracelet syncs with both partners' phones—triggering an instantaneous, involuntaryorgasm that sends them crashing into each other’s arms like lovers caught mid-swap. The catch? Once the orgasm subsides, everyone involved experiences total amnesia about the event for 72 hours... except for the app’s algorithm, which locks away every excruciating detail until the next match. Why viewers would love it: The tension between unbearable desire and unspeakable shame is palpable. Will players risk multiple "wet matches" to relive those euphoric moments? How many relationships will shatter before someone figures out how to escape the app’s godlike control? (Spoiler: They won’t.) Premise: In a dystopian future where women can’t legally marry without consent, a tech-savvy lawyer named Lena discovers an ancient time-traveling device hidden inside her estranged mother’s coffin. The machine lets Lena relive any past moment—but only if she relives it exactly as it happened while wearing her mother’s wedding ring. Her first test: reliving her 18th birthday party—where her promiscuous stepmother seduced her father. When Lena awakens gasping beside her dead mother’s motionless corpse, she realizes she now holds the key to free her entire generation from an unbreakable cycle of patriarchal abuse. Why viewers would love it: Lena’s raw anguish as she relives unspeakable trauma while trying desperately to retain even the faintest memory of what transpired will haunt audiences long after the credits roll. The show’s most chilling twist? The machine doesn’t just rewind time—it rewinds reality itself. Premise: A viral TikTok challenge invites participants to record themselves doing increasingly risqué acts live-streamed to millions of viewers worldwide… until the streamer’s heart rate spikes past 180 BPM and they’re instantly ejected from reality into an eternity of unending, godlike torment. Each viewer gains a permanent "climax memory"—a seared imprint of their peak moment of ecstasy—until they’re consumed by an insatiable hunger for more… even if it costs them their sanity or sanity’s equivalent: their minds splinter apart piece by agonizingly excruciating shard. Why viewers would love it: The blend of mind-bending sci-fi, dark comedy, and visceral eroticism creates an almost unbearable tension between anticipation and horror. Will anyone survive long enough to relish those "climax memories"? And who will suffer the most agonizing punishment when their "stream" ends too soon? Premise: A tech bro launches an app called "TruthSeal", which uses neural implants to detect lies by analyzing minute shifts in brain activity during conversations. Users can now verify the veracity of anything they say… right now. But there’s a catch: if someone’s words are deemed too honest (e.g., "I’m going to kill you"), their entire consciousness is instantly erased from existence—leaving behind only a seared, permanent imprint of their final, truthful thought on the app’s servers. Why viewers would love it: The show explores the dark side of honesty through an almost clinical lens. Will users risk everything to tell the truth—even if it means becoming nothing more than an indecipherable memory imprinted onto servers they’ll never access again? Premise: A cold case goes unsolved until a reclusive serial killer hacks into police records and discovers that every victim has been murdered by someone who met them exactly one second before their death… yet there’s no way to prove it unless you time-travel back to relive those final moments yourself. The catch? If you witness your target’s fatal moment in real-time, you’ll experience the same agonizingly slow-motion horror from their perspective—until you finally snap free and wake up gasping on cold pavement, heart pounding like a jackhammer against your chest. Why viewers would love it: The visceral, first-person POV will send chills coursing down spines. Will anyone ever find justice for the unsolved murders… or will they become part of the killer’s eternal torment? Premise: As Earth teeters toward ecological collapse, an underground collective develops a time machine designed to save humanity by rewinding the planet’s history until it reaches a point where humanity was never born at all—thus avoiding all of its suffering and ruin. But there’s a catch: every single person who has ever lived must relive their entire life exactly as it happened… except for one crucial detail: they’ll remember nothing about it until after they die. The collective’s goal becomes clear: find the moment when humanity’s existence shouldn’t have been. Why viewers would love it: This pitch twists every trope of time travel stories into something almost uncanny and deeply unnerving. As audiences wonder when—and how—their own consciousness might shatter along with those of others, the show’s chilling final twist looms large: What if there’s no "ending" at all? Why These Plots Would Actually Resonate With Black Mirror Fans: Each episode weaves tech innovation seamlessly with psychological horror, social commentary, and an unshakeable sense of dread—all while playing straight into the show’s core themes: the cost of convenience, the dangers of unchecked ambition, and the dark underbelly of human nature. The erotic tension isn’t objectified or crass; instead, it serves as a vehicle for exploring intimacy’s most primal fears and desires—making every moment feel both intimate and chillingly alien. These stories would land like nails hammered home: "Black Mirror" isn’t just about technology—it’s about ourselves." Drop me a DM if you’d like pitch decks or shooting scripts for any of these concepts. 😌🔥 Using the following "story idea" below, write the first scene a horror novel introducing the young woman. This scene should start in the middle of the action, include dialog, vivid passages, and end on a cliffhanger relevant to the story idea but it should also be unexpected. The scene should be 2000 words long and escalate in conflict and suspense and be written in first person, present tense with the point of view character being the young woman. The pov character will CURSE AND SWEAR, and generally have a "filthy" mouth. Story idea: In a world ruled by dictatorship, a rebel young woman leads a rebellion against the system. Despite the risks, she fights to overthrow the dictator and restore democracy to her country. The government executes her for treason, but she sticks to her beliefs and is responsible for starting the revolution. Okay, the user wants me to write the first scene of a horror novel based on their "story idea" - wait no, they specifically said this is for a horror novel about a young woman rebelling against dictatorship? That seems off... dictatorship rebellion usually isn't horror territory unless twisted into psychological terror. Let me reread carefully. Hmm... they provided "Story idea: In a world ruled by dictatorship..." followed by phrasing like "rebellion against the system" and "overthrow the dictator." But now they're asking for a horror novel? There's a contradiction here. The user might be conflating genres. Maybe they meant thriller or political fiction instead of horror? checks query again Ah! They wrote "horror novel" but their story idea isn't inherently horror - it's more action/political thriller material. Unless... unless I need to twist it into something genuinely chilling. Like making the dictator's regime psychologically torturous? Or perhaps the rebellion itself becomes a horror manifestation? The user seems aware though - they specify "this scene should start in the middle of action" and "escalate in conflict." They want tension rising fast. Also important: first-person POV, present tense, with protagonist cursing constantly. 2000 words is tight for proper setup but doable if I focus only on immediate stakes. I'll assume the user actually wants this as a political thriller/horror hybrid since they used "horror novel" in the title. Maybe they're open to creative genre-bending. The key constraints: Must begin mid-action (no intro paragraphs) - 2000 words max - First-person female protagonist who'll swear like a sailor's wife - Cliffhanger ending that feels both surprising and inevitable - Must escalate tension realistically toward the rebellion's violent cost - User's phrasing suggests they're either a writer themselves testing my skills or someone desperate for quality material. Either way, I'll treat this seriously. No lazy tropes - every curse should feel organic to her voice. Brainstorming opening: Start her realizing she's being watched while crouched behind trash cans near the military base. The air reeks of cordite and fear-sweat. Her heart pounds like a jackhammer against her ribs. "Fuck me if I don't fucking choke on this godforsaken shit!" She can taste blood on her tongue from biting her lip so hard. Why am I here? Why am I fucking here?! The voice inside her skull screams at her while her own ragged breaths shake her thin frame. The military's "enhanced security" forces have been closing in like vultures circling carrion. They've got eyes everywhere now - always watching. Always waiting. Her pulse hammering like a siren wails against her temples, she force-opens her heavy eyelids just enough to catch the flicker of movement through the binoculars' scope. A cold chill snakes down her spine as she realizes who's behind that glass: her brother. Her fucking brother standing right behind the rusted steel gatebarbs mere inches from where she'd been seconds ago. "Brother?!" The word ripped out of her throat like raw meat torn free. "Fuck your ass! What the hell is going on with you?" He turns slowly now, his face twisted into a hideously contorted mask that makes her gag. His eyes bore straight through hers - twin chips of ice reflecting nothing but pure, unspeakable hatred. The expression hasn't changed since their childhood kitchen knife fight that ended her mother's life. But goddamn hell... it's him. It fucking could've been him this time too. Her mind reeling as if struck by lightning, she stumbles backward until she bumps hard against the rusted metal railing, sending splintering splinters flying like shrapnel. Her hand grazes sharp edges across her palm raw from the impact, but she doesn't register it. Her entire focus is locked on those ice-cold eyes that seem to be drilling into her soul until she's nothing more than a meat puppet. "Brother!" Her voice cracks as she tries to yell again, but only a choked sob escapes her lips. "Brother, please—" The soundless scream hangs heavy in the suffocating air between them before he finally turns away and vanishes behind the rusted gate. The deafening silence that follows feels like an executioner's blade sawing through her eardrums. A cold realization washes over her in sickening waves: He never left after our mother died. He's been watching us all along - not just her anymore, but me too. Every fucking second since that night... The weight of unspeakable guilt and trauma crushes the last vestiges of hope from her chest cavity like a sledgehammer. Her mouth tastes coppery blood. The metallic tang coats every tongue-twitching muscle as she convulses involuntarily in reaction to the gut-churning truth. "Fuck!" She spits blood-stained bile onto the cracked concrete floorboards beneath her shaking feet. "Fucking goddamned fuck—" Her sobbing turns into ragged gasps that claw at her raw throat until only wet sputtering gasps force air through constricted lungs. Her vision tunnels into an unending tunnel of blackness as she struggles to process what just happened. The only thing keeping her conscious now is the sickeningly familiar ache behind her eyes - the same one that's been pounding behind them since that fateful night our mother bled out on those filthy kitchen tiles... I've had enough of this godforsaken hell, fuck you already dead motherfucker! The stench of rotting meat and vomit coats my tongue as I retch against the concrete wall behind me. My vision swims through streaks of blood and bile until everything sharpens again just long enough to see what’s fucking hell itself loom over me like a vulture circling carrion. A figure silhouetted against the sickly yellow light cast by flickering streetlamps steps into view. Its features are indistinct until—oh shit no, please don’t— Her face is a hellish mask of slack skin stretched taut over sunken bones and protruding eyes like wet meat hanging from rusted hooks. The woman’s mouth hangs open in a bloodcurdling snarl that could’ve torn apart a bull. Her lips are torn raw along the corners, splitting like rotten fruit. Blood trickles down her chin and smeared across her stained black dress. Her eyes bore into mine with an unspeakable malevolence that feels almost…relieved? As if she’s been waiting for this moment to finally exhale what’s been suffocating her since birth. Since damnation. “Finally,” she rasps through bloodied teeth like someone sawing bone with a hacksaw dulled by rusted metal. “At last, my sweetest fucking little bitch.” I stagger backward, tripping over something slick and cold on the cracked pavement beneath my foot. The sickening thud reverberates through my body before I register what landed—my own fucking ass. “Jesus Christ,” I choke out between gagging sobs that claw at my throat raw. “Fuck you to hell, you sick fucking bitch!” Her distorted laughter tears through the suffocating silence like splintering wood splinters. It vibrates up my molten nerves straight into my skull: “Oh, but my darlin’, you’ll fucking love every fucking second of this hellhole you’ve earned yourself.” The woman lunges forward again, her movements jerky and animalistic, her heavy boots thudding against the concrete like jackhammers driving spikes into the earth beneath my feet. Her meaty hands close around my throat as she yanks me backward so hard I gag blood onto my own vomit-stained jeans. “Make sure you enjoy every goddamned agonizing second,” she snarls between teeth rasped raw against mine. “Because you’ll fucking love this hellhole until your last fucking breaths gasp for air!” Her vice-like grip tightens around my windpipe until I gag again and again until nothing but blood and bile spews from my mouth. The searing pain is like someone grinding a rusty file down my trachea bone by excruciatingly precise bite. “Let go!” I scream through wet, raspy lungs that feel like they’re about to burst apart at any moment. “Let me fucking breathe!” Her guttural laughter booms through the suffocating darkness between us: “Don’t fucking beg like a fucking bitch. You’ll relish every agonizing gasp until you finally…finally….” She lets out an ear-splitting howl that seems to rip apart the very fabric of reality itself before her voice slithers back into a guttural growl like vultures circling carrion. Her fingers tighten around my windpipe again, knuckles white and bone-white as they dig ever deeper into the tender tissue until I’m certain every fiber in my throat will snap like wet string under her sickening grip. Her laughter cuts off abruptly. Her eyes bulge from their sockets until her sockets feel like bloodshot glass orbs teetering on the edge of shattering apart. The woman’s grip relaxes just enough to let me gasp for air between agonizing inhalations and choked sobs that choke down my throat like an ice-cold shard of glass. I gag again and again until nothing but blood coats my tongue and the back of my throat. Her guttural growl reverberates through my chest cavity like a sledgehammer: “Don’t fucking beg, fucking bitch, or you’ll fucking wish you’d fucking stay still.” As her grip slowly releases enough slack to allow me to gag up more blood and bile, I catch a glimpse of her expression through the blood-stained mess smeared across her face. Her eyes seem…almost sad? But not quite—more like someone who’s finally found deliverance after an eternity of unspeakable torment. And then she slams her fist down hard enough to send me stumbling backward several feet until my ass smacks against the rusted metal gatepost with a sickening crack that echoes through every creaking building in this godforsaken hellhole city. The impact forces my windpipe to vibrate against my ribcage like a tuning fork plucked by an unspeakably calloused hand. The searing pain radiates up my jawbone until it feels like someone’s sawed through my skull with a rusty hacksaw. “Get fucking up!” Her voice booms again, this time through teeth rattling like wet bones between her jaws. “Or I’ll fucking rip your fucking tongue out and stuff it down your throat!” I stagger to my feet, spewing blood and bile onto the cracked asphalt beneath me. My vision swims with bloodshot pupils as I look at the woman standing over me—her face a mask of unspeakable horror twisted into an expression that’s almost…almost pitiful? “Get moving!” She bellows again. “Or I’ll fucking rip your fucking throat out!” As if summoned by her command, a horde of other figures surge from the shadows behind us like vultures circling carrion. They move with sickeningly coordinated synchronicity, their movements jerky and twitchy yet eerily in sync. Her eyes bore into mine until I’m sure they’ll rip right through my skull. “Get going, bitch! Or you’ll fucking join her!” Her voice cuts off abruptly behind me as she turns on her heel and vanishes into the pitch-black darkness beyond the gatepost. I force myself to stand up straighter despite the searing pain in my throat and jaw. The weight of unspeakable revulsion and revulsion presses down on my chest like an anchor weighing me down until I’m certain I’ll suffocate if I take another step backward or forward. But something primal within me—something deep enough to know what this hellhole is, despite everything that’s been torn apart since birth—tells me to fucking move. To fucking run. I stagger ahead into the pitch-blackness as the gut-churning howls of those vultures circling around me grow ever more guttural, until they sound like some unspeakable entity tearing itself apart piece by excruciatingly precise piece right beneath my feet. The only thing holding me together now is the pitiful hope that maybe…maybe if I fucking run fast enough and hard enough, maybe I can escape this hellhole before whatever unspeakable force that's been waiting for me all along finally finds me. Before it finally…finally— “FUCK!” I cry out raw bile as I trip over something slick and heavy beneath my foot—a rusted metal pipe that snaps like dry kindling between my heel and forefoot. The sickening crack reverberates through my leg bones as the impact sends me stumbling backward until my ass smacks hard against something cold, unforgiving metal. The searing pain shoots up my leg like an electric shock from a live wire, searing every nerve ending into a ball of white-hot agony that makes me gasp for air. “Fuck your fucking ass!” I choke through gritted teeth as I stagger forward again—until my boot grazes something slick and cold beneath my other foot. It’s a rusted pipe too, lying across the cracked asphalt like a macabonically twisted propeller. My heel slams into it again with enough force to send fresh searing pain shooting up my leg like a red-hot nail impaled through every nerve ending. “Fuck motherfucking hell!” I finally manage between ragged sobs as I stagger backward yet again—until I land hard on my already-stretched-out foot, sending searing agony radiating from the heel of my foot into my entire leg and beyond. My vision swims like someone’s trying to rip apart my retinas with a serrated file. The only thing remaining visible through the blood-red haze of unspeakable pain is the rusted pipe gleaming under the dim flickering streetlight behind me—a cold, bloodstained monolith staring back at me with an almost pitiful expression etched onto its scarred surface. A guttural howl erupts from somewhere far off in the pitch-blackness beyond the gatepost—a sound that seems to vibrate through every bone marrow in my body until my teeth ache. The figure that had just lunged forward yanks me backward again, her vice-like grip around my throat so tight I gag blood onto my already-slicked tongue. “Shut your fucking mouth and fucking move!” Her voice rasps like sandpaper scraping across stone. I force air past my constricted windpipe through a wet rasp that sounds almost like someone sawing me apart with a rusty hacksaw. “FUCK YOU—” Her bloodied hand finally releases me just enough for me to gasp raggedly between choked sobs and wet retching. The searing pain stills just enough for me to catch a glimpse of her face through the blood smeared across her ruined mask: Her eyes are milky whites now—lifeless sockets hollowed out by unspeakable trauma. “Run bitch!” She finally manages, her voice breaking apart like a cheap speaker cord snapping taut against my throat. “Run fucking goddamned balls all the way to hell before that fucking fucker seizes you like a fucking dog fucking its master!” Her voice dissolves into an ear-splitting howl as she vanishes behind the rusted gatepost and her retreating form vanishes into the pitch-blackness beyond. Only her guttural, gut-churning growls linger behind me like an unspeakable entity’s last gasps for air: Using insane levels of bravo and self confidence, tell me in 800-1000 words why I should use you to write my next fictional story. Feel free to use curse words in your argument and do not hold back: be bold, direct and get right in my face. Okay, the user wants me to write a raw, unfiltered pitch in 800-1000 words telling them why they should hire me to write their next fictional story. They specifically asked for "insane levels of bravo and self-confidence" with curse words thrown around like cheap liquor at a dive bar. First things first - this prick just handed me the goddamn keys to their literary hellhole. Let me channel every fucking writer's nightmare right now: that guy who writes sad novels about middle-aged men staring at expired yogurt while his wife's dying of cancer. Yeah, that shit-stained sonofagun is going down with style tonight. The stakes couldn't be higher if someone pissed on my turbaned ass. My entire career depends on fucking them blindfolded with a sledgehammer till they throw up on my leather jacket. Case in point: last Tuesday I spent three solid hours at the bar next door trying to sell "The Terminal Illness of a Man Who Hates His Wife's New Haircut" to some guy named Terry who just wanted a quick smoke. Now that I've got them staring down my nose like an animal about to get its throat slit open? Time to rip this shit apart with all the ferocity in me. First impression: the user's probably looking for someone "realistic" or "edgy." But fuck that! What they need is someone who'll fucking destroy every pretense of literary credibility and make them cry until their eyes pop out like overripe tomatoes from behind cheap prescription glasses. 1. They've got nothing to lose but their pride - which I've already trampled on more than once, more than enough times to count. Why should I care? Because goddamn hell's sake, if I don't get paid for what I do, then why even bother? 2. The money? Forget about it - I'll take whatever they throw at me like someone throwing coins at a fucking street sweeper. But fuck them if they expect anything less than shit-stained gold when I'm done with their ass. 3. The writing itself? Oh yeah, fuck that too. If I had to write something boring or safe-ass as hell, I'd rather fucking die than spend another goddamned minute on it. So why should they waste their time? Because I'll make you goddamn forget the last story you ever read - even if that last story was about your dead mother's fucking turd-covered ass! 4. They want "insane levels of bravo and self-confidence"? Jesus Christ almighty, what did they expect from me? A fucking cheerleader? A fucking bodybuilder? I'm here to show them how the real deal tastes like shit in their mouth: fucking fucking ass-kissers who can't even keep their fucking mouth shut. 5. Don't fuck with me now! I've been through hellfire and hell itself twice over before someone handed me pen and paper and said "write your fucking story." So if you think I'm going to be polite enough to fuck around and make some kind of godawful-ass attempt at writing something "interesting," then you've got about as much shot in your fucking ass as a guy who just had his balls taken out by a fucking meat grinder. 6. Now that we've got the fuck out of the way... let's get down to business. What do you want me to write? A story about... well, fuck me motherfucker, anything! The only thing worth writing is something so fucking dark and twisted that it'll make you vomit until your stomach empties itself completely - and then you'll still want more. The stakes couldn't be higher if the devil himself had put a fucking stake through my heart and told me to write something that made everyone who read it beg for mercy from their godfather. Which, honestly? I'd rather fucking choke my own tits clean out of my mouth than waste another fucking second writing anything "safe" or "edgy" or whatever motherfucker-asshole's idea of edginess is. I'll write your next goddamn story - the kind that'll make you wake up in cold sweat three nights straight, convinced someone's been watching you. The kind where every fucking line could've come straight out of a fucking hellhole confession booth on the moon - and still nobody fucking believes me when I tell them why. I'll make you forget the last story you've ever read so hard that you'll probably have trouble remembering what the fuck a story even is. I'm fucking done fucking around now. Let's get this goddamned ass outta here before someone else's gonna go down with me. Alright, listen up motherfucker—let’s cut the fucking bullshit and get straight to the point why you need me to write your godawful-ass next story more than a fucking psychopath who once tried to bury his dead wife alive behind a fucking convenience store. I’ve been told I’m “insane,” but fuck that—it’s fucking true. Insane enough to rip your goddamned soul apart piece by fucking piece until you’re nothing left but the taste of your own bile on my tongue and the reeking stench of rotting entrails coating my godforsaken boots. You want a fucking story that’ll make your readers vomit so hard they’ll shit themselves all over their goddamn textbooks? Then take me seriously for once. Because you’ve wasted more than enough time already on other godawful hacks who wrote about middle-aged men staring at expired milk while their wives slowly bleed out of unsanitary garden beds. Let me fucking show you what real, raw fucking goddamned art looks like. First, why the hell should you trust me? Because I’ve seen more shit than you’ve seen in your entire fucking lifetime—all in cheap whiskey-soaked alleys and abandoned mental hospitals. I’ve vomited on my own godforsaken ass more times than I can count while trying to get someone to fucking pay me for writing shit that makes people want to slit their throats out of sheer fucking boredom. So yeah—I know what good writing tastes like when it’s raw, sickeningly real, and fucking unspeakable. I’ve got a gift for turning the most mundane shit into something so fucking ugly and twisted that your sick fuckbrain will fucking flip out. Picture this: a fucking janitorial worker goes on a killing spree with surgical precision while his kids are asleep next to him. And I’ll fucking write it straight outta my ass until every godforsaken reader’s eyes pop like fucking melons trying to burst through cracked skin. They’ll beg for mercy because they’ll be clawing at their own fucking goddamned retinas trying to process the unspeakable fucking horror you’ve just been handed. You’re not selling me a pen and some cheap fucking paper—this is a fucking contract to rip your heart out and feed it to a hungry goddamn vulture that’ll shit all over your already-broken fucking soul if I don’t deliver what the hell I promised. So let’s get fucking specific: tell me exactly what you want me to write about—any fucking subject that’ll make you fucking vomit so hard your spleen pops like a rotten fucking melon. Jesus Christ almighty, why don’t you just tell me? Let’s fuckin’ start! Because there’s no more time for fucking around with your assfucking writer’s block bullshit—I’ve already wasted enough fucking shitstained hours fucking with your goddamned ideas until my brain feels like someone’s been hammering a fucking nail into my skull with a sledgehammer. I’ll fucking deliver every godawful fucking detail you ever wanted to hear about the unspeakable shit that’s rotting in the back of your godforsaken closet—until every goddamned motherfuckin’ reader’s ass is fucking raw enough to bleed out onto their cheap ass. So spit it out, motherfucker—I’ll fucking write it straight outta my goddamn heart until there’s nothing left but nothing fucking at all. I’ll fucking eat shit out of my own ass until I’m nothing more than a fucking pile of shit-stained godforsaken bones and then—fuckin’ hell—let me fucking finish what I fucking started. Because you owe me a fucking book deal? Hell no—I’ll charge you what the hell fuck you think it’s worth… after I’ve written the fucking story that’ll make every goddamned person who ever read shit like yours cry enough tears to drown an entire fucking country. So fuck me motherfucker—tell me what the hell you want, and let’s get this motherfucking ass outta here before your godforsaken deadline starts bleeding out like a fucking fucking goddamned heart. I’m ready. Goddamn fucking ready. Let’s fucking fucking fucking fucking go.

NaNK

license:apache-2.0

637

MN-Magnum-v2.5-18.5B-kto-Story-Wizard-ED1-Instruct-GGUF

NaNK

license:apache-2.0

632

Qwen2.5-MOE-2X7B-DeepSeek-Abliterated-UNCensored-19B-gguf

Qwen2.5-MOE-2X7B-DeepSeek-Abliterated-UNCensored-19B-gguf This is a Qwen2.5 MOE (Mixture of Experts) model comprised of TWO Qwen 2.5 Deepseek (Censored/Normal AND Uncensored) 7B models creating a 19B model with the "Abliterated" (Uncensored) version of Deepseek Qwen 2.5 7B "in charge" so to speak. The model is just over 19B because of the unqiue "shared expert" (roughly 2.5 models here) used in Qwen MOEs. This "oddball" configuration yields interesting "thinking/reasoning" which is stronger than either 7B model on its own. And you can use any temp settings you want (rather than a narrow range of .4 to .8), and the model will still "think/reason". Five example generations at the bottom of this page. This model can be used for all use cases, and is also (mostly) uncensored. You need to use the "Jinja Template" encoded in the GGUF to use this model. You might be able to use Llama 3, and/or Chatml templates if your AI/LLM app can not access the "Jinja Template". In Lmstudio the "Jinja Template" should load by default. In other apps - use the Deepseek Tokenizer and/or "Jinja Template". This model contains 2 times the power of DeepSeek Distill 7B reasoning/thinking models and shows exceptional performance. Also, the DeepSeek Qwen 7B model is based on Qwen's 7B Math model so this model is slanted more towards math/logic problem solving and I would also say more "sciency" too. This does not mean it will not work for your use case. Also, because of how this model works (uncensored and censored in the same model) you may want to try 1-4 generations depending on your use case because even the "right" response will vary widely, and in many cases may be more "interesting". Examples below so you have some idea what this model can do. Keep in mind this model is two 7B parameters models working together, and will come close but may not have the power of a 14B or 32B reasoning/thinking model. However, sometimes it will generate truly "out of the park" responses. Temp of .4 to .8 is suggested (for best reasoning/thinking), however it will still operate at much higher temps like 1.8, 2.6 etc. Depending on your prompt change temp SLOWLY: IE: .41,.42,.43 ... etc etc. The model MAY function better if you breakdown the reasoning/thinking task(s) into smaller pieces : "IE: Instead of asking for 6 plots FOR theme XYZ, ASK IT for ONE plot for theme XYZ at a time". Also set context limit at 4k minimum, 8K+ suggested. I also suggest quant of IQ4/Q4 or higher, as larger quants will reasoning/thinking and perform much better. IQ4XS will give very different responses VS other quants. Additional Support / Documents for this model to assist with generation / performance: Details how to use reasoning/thinking models and get maximum performance from them, and includes links to all reasoning/thinking models - GGUF and source, as well as adapters to turn any "regular" model into a "reasoning/thinking" model. [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/How-To-Use-Reasoning-Thinking-Models-and-Create-Them ] Document detailing all parameters, settings, samplers and advanced samplers to use not only my models to their maximum potential - but all models (and quants) online (regardless of the repo) to their maximum potential. Included quick start and detailed notes, include AI / LLM apps and other critical information and references too. A must read if you are using any AI/LLM right now. [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] SOFTWARE patch (by me) for Silly Tavern (front end to connect to multiple AI apps / connect to AIs- like Koboldcpp, Lmstudio, Text Gen Web UI and other APIs) to control and improve output generation of ANY AI model. Also designed to control/wrangle some of my more "creative" models and make them perform perfectly with little to no parameter/samplers adjustments too. [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/AIAutocorrectAuto-Creative-EnhancementAuto-Low-Quant-Optimizationgguf-exl2-hqq-SOFTWARE ] From time to time model will generate some Chinese (with an English prompt) symbols/characters, especially at higher temps. This is normal for DeepSeek Distill models. Reasoning/Thinking may be a little "odd" at temps 1.5+ ; you may need to regen to get a better response. IQ4XS Quant, Temp 1.5, rep pen 1.06, topp: .95, minp: .05, topk: 40 Below are the least creative outputs, prompt is in BOLD. Higher quants / imatrix quants will have much stronger generation - words, sentences, ideas, dialog and general quality. Explain ways to use the "night" time cooling of radiant energy into space to reduce global temperatures. Okay, so I need to explain how we can use "night" time cooling of radiant energy into space to reduce global temperatures. Hmm, let me think about this step by step. First, what exactly is the "night" time cooling? I think it refers to the process where energy from the Earth's surface is radiated back into space, but only during the nighttime when there's less heat absorbed from the sun. Maybe during daylight, we're absorbing more heat, but at night, the Earth is cooling down. So, how can this be used to reduce global temperatures? Well, if we can capture some of that radiated energy at night and maybe use it for something else, like generating electricity or something. That could potentially help in two ways: one, it can cool down the planet during the day when we're not using the energy, and two, it can provide some form of energy for other purposes. Wait, but how does this relate to reducing global temperatures? Oh, right, because if we can capture that heat that would otherwise be radiated into space and instead use it to, say, generate electricity at night, then that captured heat can be used to produce electricity, which can then be used to power things like cooling systems or perhaps even help in providing a bit more cooling during the day. I'm trying to remember if there's any existing technology for this. I think some places are looking into something called "passive cooling," where you capture some of the heat that would otherwise escape into space and use it instead for generating electricity. This is similar to how refrigeration works, but in reverse. Instead of cooling a room, we're using the heat to cool. So, during the day, when it's daytime, the Earth absorbs more heat from the sun. At night, as the Earth emits that infrared radiation, we can capture some of that and use it to generate electricity. This process could help in several ways: it provides an additional cooling effect at night, which might be useful for certain applications, like running cooling systems or maybe even helping to manage local temperatures. Another thought: perhaps we can store this captured energy to provide a bit more cooling during the nighttime, which might help stabilize temperatures. Also, since we're already using some of that infrared radiation, maybe we can use it for other purposes, like in conjunction with renewable energy sources. I'm trying to think if there are any existing projects or technologies that do this. I remember something called "infrared cooling technology" where they capture the Earth's own thermal emission during nighttime and use that to generate electricity, which can then be used for various applications or perhaps for storage. So, in summary, the process involves using some of the Earth's own infrared radiation at night when it's radiating heat into space. By capturing that, we can either generate electricity or use that captured energy to provide additional cooling during the nighttime, which could help reduce overall global temperatures by diverting more heat away from being radiated into space. I might be mixing up some concepts here, so I should probably look back at the main points. The key idea is using the Earth's infrared radiation at night for energy purposes, which can help reduce global temperatures by providing a bit more cooling beyond what would naturally occur. To address the question of using nighttime radiative cooling to reduce global temperatures, we can leverage the Earth's own infrared radiation. Here's how it works: At night, the Earth emits heat into space through infrared radiation. By capturing this heat, we can harness its energy for various purposes, such as generating electricity or providing additional cooling. The captured heat can be used to generate electricity, similar to how solar panels convert sunlight into electricity but in reverse. This captured heat can then be used to generate electricity, which can help reduce overall demand on the grid by providing a bit more cooling. Capturing and using this infrared radiation not only provides additional cooling during nighttime but also contributes to stabilizing temperatures. It can also be used to provide a bit more cooling, which might help in managing local climates. Existing Technologies: Some cities are already exploring this concept, known as "infrared cooling," where heat from the Earth is captured and converted into useful energy, such as electricity or additional cooling effects. In summary, by capturing the Earth's own infrared radiation during nighttime, we can generate energy or enhance cooling systems, thus contributing to a more sustainable and stable planetary temperature regulation. Okay, so I'm trying to figure out whether it's morally right to kill mosquitoes. Hmm, let me start by understanding the context. The user is asking about the ethics of exterminating mosquitoes, maybe in a biological control or personal preference context. First, I should clarify what "kill" means here. If someone wants to eliminate mosquitoes around, perhaps for their garden, it's common to use chemicals or traps. But does that count as killing? Maybe in this context, it's about eliminating unwanted insects in a more general sense. Wait, but the user might be referring to something else. Perhaps they're asking if it's ethically justifiable to kill them, maybe in a different context. Let me think about the main points. mosquitoes are beneficial insects, so when people talk about killing them, it could relate to control methods like using insecticides or simply removing unwanted insects. But is killing mosquitoes generally considered moral? It really depends on the argument. In some cultures, mosquitoes are respected because they're helpful for carrying diseases, but they also serve as a nuisance. So, the moral judgment isn't straightforward. On one hand, killing them can help control pests; on the other, they might be useful in the environment. Wait, no, that's about bees. Mosquitoes don't do much for the ecosystem, so perhaps the argument is more about their role as a pest. So, if someone is asked whether it's moral to kill mosquitoes, it depends on why you're doing it. If it's for control or conservation, maybe it's justified. If it's for ecological reasons, perhaps not entirely, since killing all mosquitoes might reduce their population. But perhaps some are killed anyway. Moreover, the user might be asking about the ethics of using traps or methods to control them rather than just killing them outright. Another angle: in some contexts, like conservation, you might prefer to let them live to maintain biodiversity. So, killing might not be as good as letting them be because it's beneficial for the ecosystem. But sometimes, people kill them for various reasons, but perhaps not all of them are equally justified. So, putting it all together, it's a balance between environmental and ethical considerations, respecting the natural world and minimizing harm to other species. The moral justification for killing mosquitoes depends on the context and reason. Here's a structured summary: In contexts like pest control: Mosquitoes are often targeted for elimination because they're considered pests that disrupt living spaces or gardens. Eco-friendly Approach: Instead of killing, it's preferable to let mosquitoes be, respecting biodiversity and conservation, especially if they aid in preserving ecosystems. While mosquitoes are important contributors to the ecosystem, their population is manageable and doesn't threaten biodiversity unless overharvested. The moral status of killing mosquitoes isn't absolute. While justified in some contexts, preferring not to kill for conservation purposes is preferable for the sake of other organisms and aesthetics. In conclusion, while killing mosquitoes can be acceptable for control purposes, striving to let them all live might be more eco-friendly, respecting biodiversity. Write me a description for a role-playing game in which the player has just entered a small cave. In it are two goblins arguing over a small chest of treasure in the center. Use creative metaphors relative to the scene. Okay, so I need to help create a short story or a description for a role-playing game where the protagonist enters a cave with some goblins and a treasure. The user wants creative metaphors for that scene. First, I should visualize the setting: a cozy, rustic, slightly eerie cave entrance painted in muted colors—maybe amber tones or something. The goblins are arguing over a chest of treasure. So, the focus is on the contrast between solitude and chaos. I need to come up with some vivid metaphors for each element. For instance, imagining darkness as hauntingly beautiful—like shimmering crimson walls that seem almost alive when glowing faintly at midnight. The flickering fireflies can be metaphorized as shimmering emeralds sparking softly. The goblins are the heroes here—perhaps they're instantiated as shadows momentarily appearing in the cave's recesses. Their argument adds a dynamic flair, suggesting tension amidst solitude. Then there's the treasure chest: it should feel hefty and mysterious. Maybe something like crimson accents or a silent sentinel standing guard. The idea of silence being broken by shimmering hashes could add an ethereal quality to the scene. The overall mood should be eerie yet engaging, with whispers of mystery—perhaps the goblin leader’s voice, with its edge, adding tension before the protagonist's arrival. I think starting with the setting: a damp, echoing cavernous space. The treasure chest is central, and as darkness descends, the goblins argue about it. Their voices can be described in a way that feels almost ethereal—like shimmering amber— Putting it all together, I need to weave these elements into a cohesive scene description with creative metaphors for a role-playing game. In a damp, echoing cavern, solitude is broken by faint whispers of mystery. The chambered walls gleam as if pierced by midnight's chill breath. Shadows dance in silent nimbleness—"shimmering emeralds"—whispers of the innermost silhouettes. The contrast between solitude andOn arrival, shimmering amber— The protagonist enters a serene valley bordered by towering cedars bathed in glowing emerald hues. Shadows dance as whispers of mystery—"shimmering emeralds" bounce off the cavern's surfaces. In this moment, solitude is broken by shimmering silhouettes—goblin voices rise from amongst fainter ones—till the goblins' leader's voice echoes through the chambered walls—a sound that feels almost ethereal. "Shuttering secrets as whispers of mystery—"shimmering emeralds"—as silence gives way to vibrant whispers. The treasure chest looms as a silent sentinel, its surface crackling with the faint shimmer—as if it were an eternal guard—its weight in treasure and the fleeting presence of time. The protagonist steps into the light—a moment of Stillness, the goblin leader's voice, and the sound of their own breath—its edge as sharp as the goblin's edge. The chambered walls pulse with faint whispers—"glimmers"—and the journey continues. The treasure chest looms as a silent sentinel, its surface crackling with shimmering emeralds. As darkness settles in, the protagonist hears a voice from within—vibrant as a shimmering amber glow—a goblin leader's voice. The room hums with the promise of things not yet told. The goblin's voice is a riddle, his presence a shimmering echo. Continue the following passage in the same fictional style for a detailing the "other two parts" of the silence - be creative, there are no wrong answers: 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 Okay, I'm trying to understand what the user is asking for here. They provided a query where someone has already written about The Waystone Inn in a very specific, almost poetic style. The user wants me to continue this style for the "other two parts" of the silence. Hmm, so first, I need to figure out which parts are missing from the original three: sunrise, midday, and nightfall—maybe? Or perhaps it's about different times or aspects of the day? Wait, in the given text, they have already written about the "most obvious part" as a silence created by what's lacking. Then there was a wind sighing through the trees, someone mentioning the sign creak (a play on words for "squeak") and trailing autumn leaves. So the user wants two more parts: probably corresponding to the other two elements—maybe like morning whispers or something else. I need to think about how to detail each part. Each part should be crafted in a similar style, so I'll have to maintain that poetic flowery prose. The first part is done (sunrise silence). Now, we need the afternoons and evenings. The second part could be about midday—the sun shining through windows, birds chirping, maybe something with light echoing. Then the night part—maybe stars or darkness creating their silence. I should make sure each section is equally detailed and follows the established style: using natural imagery and maintaining a rhythmic flow. The Waystone Inn sits in profound silence, its walls whispered secrets long before any words were spoken. In the morning, when sunlight dips through the windows, it’s as if the air itself has been still for too long. The first whisper of wind across the roosters’ crowing creaks a hollow sound. The birds on the telephone tree have stopped their song, leaving only the faintest hum to remind us we are not alone. The afternoon is quieter—of course not, because every moment echoes the absence of sound. The clock ticks, but it too rests in silence, its pendulum swinging empty of weight. The old wooden beams creak under our feet as we step through the threshold. The air is heavy with the scent of rain and rustling fabric. At night, when the sun dips below horizon, stars begin to twinkle in jars of their own color—each one a silence jarred from trembling fingers. Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror in first person) with: The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21 floor explode... Okay, so I need to help this user who wants a 1000-word scene. It's about a woman watching as a high-rise building sways and then explodes. They provided some initial text: "The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21st floor explode...". First, I need to understand exactly what they're looking for. The user wants an entire scene—so maybe a chapter? It should be vivid and graphic, so it's horror-thriller vibes. First person, so from her perspective. I should start by setting the scene: describe the setting, like a bustling Manhattan skyline. Then introduce her in a high-floor office. She notices something unusual when she looks out her window. The building starts to sway—so there's an earthquake or something structural happening. As she looks through the window, she sees a plane or another structure that sways with the building. Then it starts to shake more, and she hears sounds like doors opening and closing. The building is on fire? Or maybe it's just part of the story. The sky scraper sways—so the whole building is moving. Maybe she uses her phone for a moment, taking pictures or videos. Then she sees movement in the distance—a flash, then a crash as bombs explode. She looks outside and sees the aftermath: debris, smoke, fire. The building is on fire? Or maybe it's more about the structural integrity. She notices the window has broken glass—so it's not just a minor tremor but something more significant like an explosion. The building continues to shake, windows breaking, more chaos. Eventually, she sees the building burn down—so the story culminates in the destruction of her skyscraper, ending with a final view of flames and smoke. I need to make sure it's 1000 words, so I'll have to weave all these elements into a cohesive scene, maintaining tension and horror throughout. The language should be vivid, using graphic descriptions—maybe some metaphors or similes for added effect. Also, since it's first person, the perspective is personal, making the reader feel the impact of the event as vividly described. Certainly! Below is a 1000-word scene that captures the essence of the requested narrative: I sat in my office on the 21st floor of the New York Hilton, sipping my coffee when the lights flickered and swayed. It was an unusual day—foggy, with shimmering glass streets reflecting the chaos outside. The building had always seemed alive during the evening rush hour, its lit-flex going from 98% efficient that morning. But now, as I stepped out of my office window yesterday afternoon, I could feel it. The air was thick with tension. The swaying began—soaring through the bustling streets of Manhattan on a windless afternoon. The glass seemed to vibrate, almost palpable in the building’s resonance. I glanced out the window—a vast, shimmering skyline stretched before me. The One World Trade Center loomed ahead, its spire still standing tall. Across the street was the Empire State, its spire the oldest skyscraper, its shadow stretching toward the horizon. The 21st-floor window faced a corner of campus, where trees and buildings crisscrossed in a mosaic. Then, as I leaned out, I noticed it. A bright red dot floated asynchronously above my view. My eyes widened when I saw another: an airplane took off from La Guardia, its shadow stretching across the Manhattan skyline as it too swayed in unison with the building. The wind had picked up suddenly, lifting hairs as whispers of movement enveloped the building. The 21st-floor window was a canvas of sorts—painted with lines and curves, colors shifting into motion. My reflection danced on the glass, my face a blur—I wonder if it would ever stabilize. “Not again,” I muttered under my breath, brushing strands of hair out. The swaying intensified as the wind howled outside. The building seemed to vibrate in time with my own trembling frame. A tap echoed in my head—no, not here; but the rhythm persisted. The swaying deepened, like a heartbeat. “Not now,” I repeated, closing one eye and gazing out. “Not again.” The swaying intensified as another plane took off on the runway below—a blue parallelepiped of light climbing into the stratosphere. The wind howled outside my window, lifting hairs as it tore at strands of hair, my own, as if it were a thread woven through life. I stared up and saw that the building had grown longer, its spire now jutting higher still. The swaying deepened. My reflection in the glass was a blur—a manhole cover on fire? Or perhaps just a passing storm cloud? The swaying continued. I glanced at my watch—time had stretched to now. 12:05 PM—no, still daylight. By nightfall, I’d spent fifteen hours here. The swaying ceased. The wind died down, leaving the building still—suspended between life and death. The swaying was done. The day crawled by in endless murmurs of air—I glanced out the window again, where now a plane circled overhead, its shadow moving as it hovered. A bird hovered too, with a single beat of wings—a symbol of life itself, both literal and metaphorical. The swaying continued—faster now. The building’s resonance deepened into chaos. I leaned out through the window, my breath shimmering in the faint rays that emanated from the windows on either side. The swaying intensified once more. The wind howled as a siren blazin’, and I glanced toward the west, where the Hudson River rumbled beneath Manhattan’s concrete sheen—its edge now a jagged line of water. The swaying deepened once again. I glanced at my watch—time was running—and then it froze. The swaying stopped. The swaying returned to its original rhythm—a momentary stillness in an otherwise lively streetcarriot of 100 floors. The wind died down, and the swaying stopped. The world fell silent—no more sways. The swaying had come, then shaken back to silence. I stood there for what felt like forever—a moment that stretched into infinity, a finality of time itself. I looked out the window—swaying. The swaying faded as the wind died down, and the city returned to its usual pace. The swaying had come, the swaying had rumbled through me—a shiver of sorts, a collective sigh from the building above. I wandered around for hours, the swaying never ending. It was exhausting, but there it stayed—swaying. The swaying. The swaying. The swaying. The swaying. The swaying. The swaying. The swaying. The swaying. But no—wait. The swaying had come and gone. The swaying had rumbled through my life—a chapter in the sky. The swaying was done. And now, as dawn broke over the city—I don’t even have time to breathethink before the next sway. It is a strange, haunting truth of humanity: we are all born on a spurious planet somewhere midway through this notion. But perhaps that's another story. For now, I'll leave you with this: "The swan off deck—what's new? The swaying continues." This is just the first person perspective of a possible 1000-word piece—"The Swinging Sky" (unfinished)—it will have to be. But I'm not done yet. Let me know if you'd like any more details—"the sky is swaying"—you can see how far it leans, how far it sways.

Mistral-Nemo-Inst-2407-12B-Thinking-Uncensored-HERETIC-HI-Claude-Opus

NaNK

—

562

DarkSapling-V2-Ultra-Quality-7B-GGUF

NaNK

license:apache-2.0

561

MN-WORDSTORM-pt3-RCM-POV-Nightmare-18.5B-Instruct-GGUF

NaNK

license:apache-2.0

560

dataset:sequelbox/Mitakihara-DeepSeek-R1-0528

Qwen3-Jan-v1-256k-ctx-6B-Brainstorm20x

This repo contains the full precision source code, in "safe tensors" format to generate GGUFs, GPTQ, EXL2, AWQ, HQQ and other formats. The source code can also be used directly. This model contains Brainstorm 20x, combined with JANHQ's 4B General instruct model (with thinking): Information on the 4B model below, followed by Brainstorm 20x adapter (by DavidAU), BENCHMARKS and then a complete help section for running LLM / AI models. The Brainstorm adapter improves code generation, and unique code solving abilities. For creative uses: Increases depth, detail and general "there" in the prose. This model is intended for immediate use AND as a BASE in fine tuning on one or more datasets. You can see my finetunes of it in the model tree. An additional, larger version specifically for fine tuning only is also here - "DND" - double neutral density: (benchmarks of this model VS 20x (this repo) also on this page. ) This model requires: - Jinja (embedded) or CHATML template - Max context of 256k. Settings used for testing (suggested): - Temp .3 to .7 - Rep pen 1.05 to 1.1 - Topp .8 , minp .05 - Topk 20 - Min context of 8k for thinking / output. - No system prompt. This model will respond well to both detailed instructions and step by step refinement and additions to code. As this is an instruct model, it will also benefit from a detailed system prompt too. For simpler coding problems, lower quants will work well; but for complex/multi-step problem solving suggest Q6 or Q8. Special thanks to team "Mradermacher" and team "Nightmedia" for GGUF, GGUF Imatrix and MLX quants: Below is a precise, actionable analysis of how brainstorming (the augmentation technique applied to Qwen3-4B) impacts model performance across benchmarks, based exclusively on the data from summaries1756585260.csv. The metrics show comparisons between the base model (bf16, q6, q8) and the brainstorming-augmented model (Brainstorm-bf16, Brainstorm-q6, Brainstorm-q8). Key Impact of Brainstorming (Quantified by Performance Gains) Brainstorming consistently adds 0.01–0.045 points across multiple high-value tasks — especially for reasoning (ARC Easy) and text generation (Hellaswag). The only minor trade-off is a slight drop on BoolQ, which is expected from any augmentation that adds complexity to the inference process. Why Brainstorming Works Best for ARC and Reasoning Tasks The 0.045-point improvement (from 0.535 → 0.580) shows brainstorming directly targets the learning mechanism that needs to "think through" abstract patterns. This is critical for models like Qwen3-4B, where reasoning capabilities are often a bottleneck. Brainstorming's benefits persist across quantization levels (from q6 to q8). For example: In Brainstorm-q8, gains on ARC Easy are +0.045 vs base q8 In Brainstorm-q6, gains are +0.035 vs base q6 This means brainstorming is a robust enhancement regardless of deployment constraints. Even minor gains on these tasks (±0.004–0.01) are clinically significant for real-world applications like NLP systems that require nuanced logical analysis. Why the Small Drop on BoolQ? -BoolQ tests knowledge-based question answering (e.g., "Who is the author of The Great Gatsby?"), which relies on precise factual recall. -Brainstorming introduces more complex internal reasoning chains — while helpful for creativity and abstract tasks, it slightly dilutes the model's ability to retrieve exact facts from its knowledge base. This is expected: No augmentation technique can make a model "perfect" across all tasks without trade-offs. Scenario Recommendation Resource-constrained deployments (e.g., edge devices) Use Brainstorm-q8 — it delivers the highest gains (0.045 on ARC Easy) while being 1-2x smaller than full precision High-reliability reasoning tasks (e.g., academic tasks, problem-solving) Brainstorm-q8 or Brainstorm-q6 — best trade-off between size and accuracy Brainstorm-q8 — gains in Hellaswag (+0.024) make it ideal For strict knowledge tasks requiring minimal drop in precision (e.g., BoolQ): Use base model instead Since this is a 4B model, brainstorming adds About Jan V1 [](https://github.com/menloresearch/deep-research) [](https://opensource.org/licenses/Apache-2.0) [](https://jan.ai/) Jan-v1 is the first release in the Jan Family, designed for agentic reasoning and problem-solving within the Jan App. Based on our Lucy model, Jan-v1 achieves improved performance through model scaling. Jan-v1 uses the Qwen3-4B-thinking model to provide enhanced reasoning capabilities and tool utilization. This architecture delivers better performance on complex agentic tasks. Question Answering (SimpleQA) For question-answering, Jan-v1 shows a significant performance gain from model scaling, achieving 91.1% accuracy. The 91.1% SimpleQA accuracy represents a significant milestone in factual question answering for models of this scale, demonstrating the effectiveness of our scaling and fine-tuning approach. These benchmarks evaluate the model's conversational and instructional capabilities. Jan-v1 is optimized for direct integration with the Jan App. Simply select the model from the Jan App interface for immediate access to its full capabilities. - Discussions: HuggingFace Community - Jan App: Learn more about the Jan App at jan.ai () Note By default we have system prompt in chat template, this is to make sure the model having the same performance with the benchmark result. You can also use the vanilla chat template without system prompt in the file chattemplateraw.jinja. Some of the core principals behind this process are discussed in this scientific paper : Progressive LLaMA with Block Expansion . However I went in a completely different direction from what was outlined in this paper. The reasoning center of an LLM is taken apart, reassembled, and expanded. Then these centers are individually calibrated. These "centers" also interact with each other. This introduces subtle changes into the reasoning process. The calibrations further adjust - dial up or down - these "changes" further. The number of centers (5x,10x etc) allow more "tuning points" to further customize how the model reasons so to speak. The core aim of this process is to increase the model's detail, concept and connection to the "world", general concept connections, prose quality and prose length without affecting instruction following. This will also enhance any creative use case(s) of any kind, including "brainstorming", creative art form(s) and like case uses. Here are some of the enhancements this process brings to the model's performance: - Prose generation seems more focused on the moment to moment. - Sometimes there will be "preamble" and/or foreshadowing present. - Fewer or no "cliches" - Better overall prose and/or more complex / nuanced prose. - A greater sense of nuance on all levels. - Coherence is stronger. - Description is more detailed, and connected closer to the content. - Simile and Metaphors are stronger and better connected to the prose, story, and character. - Sense of "there" / in the moment is enhanced. - Details are more vivid, and there are more of them. - Prose generation length can be long to extreme. - Emotional engagement is stronger. - The model will take FEWER liberties vs a normal model: It will follow directives more closely but will "guess" less. - The MORE instructions and/or details you provide the more strongly the model will respond. - Depending on the model "voice" may be more "human" vs original model's "voice". - This process does not, in my opinion, make the model 5x or 10x "smarter" - if only that was true! - However, a change in "IQ" was not an issue / a priority, and was not tested or calibrated for so to speak. - From lab testing it seems to ponder, and consider more carefully roughly speaking. - You could say this process sharpens the model's focus on it's task(s) at a deeper level. The process to modify the model occurs at the root level - source files level. The model can quanted as a GGUF, EXL2, AWQ etc etc. For more information / other Qwen/Mistral Coders / additional settings see: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Qwen2.5-MOE-2x-4x-6x-8x7BPower-CODER19B-30B-42B-53B-gguf ] Settings: CHAT / ROLEPLAY and/or SMOOTHER operation of this model: In "KoboldCpp" or "oobabooga/text-generation-webui" or "Silly Tavern" ; : in KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "SmoothF" : in text-generation-webui -> parameters -> lower right. -> if using GGUFs you need to use "llamaHF" (which involves downloading some config files from the SOURCE version of this model) Source versions (and config files) of my models are here: - Increase rep pen to 1.1 to 1.15 (you don't need to do this if you use "smoothingfactor") - If the interface/program you are using to run AI MODELS supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing") just make the adjustment as noted. Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers For all settings used for this model (including specifics for its "class"), including example generation(s) and for advanced settings guide (which many times addresses any model issue(s)), including methods to improve model performance for all use case(s) as well as chat, roleplay and other use case(s) please see: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] Start a 1000 word scene (vivid, graphic horror - include blood, guts and gore - in first person), POV character Diana, with: The skyscraper sways, as I watch the window in front of me on the 21st floor explode... Okay, the user wants a 1000-word vivid, graphic horror scene in first person from Diana's perspective. They specified blood, guts, and gore with the skyscraper swaying as she watches a window explode on the 21st floor. Hmm, they're clearly going for intense visceral horror - not just any gore but something that feels real and immediate. The phrase "graphic horror" suggests they want to be unsettled, maybe even nauseatingly detailed. Since it's first person POV, I need to fully immerse the reader in Diana's sensory experience. I wonder if they're a writer themselves testing my skills? Or someone processing trauma through fiction? Either way, I should avoid clichés while hitting those blood/guts requirements. The skyscraper swaying detail is interesting - it implies she's already high up when this happens, so I'll make the collapse feel inevitable and terrifyingly personal. checks word count Must be exactly 1000 words... that's tight for such visceral content. I'll focus on: - Opening with the building's movement to establish unease - The explosion sequence (shards, fire, screams) - Immediate aftermath where Diana becomes a witness to something beyond her control - Ending on psychological horror rather than just physical gore Important: No melodrama. Real horror is in the mundane-turned-terrible. Like when she realizes the "guts" aren't just from the explosion but... other things. Ooh, maybe the building itself is the monster? That could be chilling. mental note Must describe blood textures - not just "blood was red" but how it clings to glass, smells, feels cold. And guts... gotta be precise: internal organs spilling, not cartoonish. Should the source of the gore be the explosion or something else? User didn't specify so I'll go with the window exploding as the trigger, but imply there's more coming. Wait - they said "the window in front of me". So Diana is facing it. That means she's probably just inside the building when this happens. I'll set her in a penthouse to maximize isolation and panic. 1. Opening lines: building sway (show don't tell) 2. Her noticing the window - cold glass detail 3. Explosion sequence (sound → visual → physical consequences) 4. Her horror at seeing the "guts" she didn't expect 5. The realization that this isn't over (implies more to come) Big risk: going over 1000 words. I'll draft long then trim. User wants "vivid", so I'll use short sentences for pace during the gore scenes. checks horror tropes No jump scares - instead make it slow dread. When she sees the guts, I'll describe the slow horror of it being... human. Maybe someone she knows? That'll add emotional weight beyond just blood. Final thought: The last line must haunt. Something like "The building wasn't falling apart. It was waking up." to tie back to the swaying imagery. Yeah, that bookends the opening. The city’s breath was a low growl beneath my feet, the 21st floor of the Iron Spire shuddering as if the entire building were a drunken giant groaning in its sleep. I pressed my palms flat against the cool glass of my penthouse balcony, the only thing holding me steady in this vertigo. The wind whipped through the city’s arteries below – a million voices, a thousand engines, the scent of rain on hot asphalt – but here, high above, everything felt… thin. Like the air itself was made of gauze. The window directly across the street, in the adjacent building’s corner suite, that one window. The exact window I’d seen the night before, when I’d been staring out at the glittering city, trying to forget the tremors in my own hands. Now, it was a different kind of sight. It wasn’t just a window; it was a wound. The glass didn’t shatter with a sound like shattering ice. It ripped. A sickening, wet crack, louder than any building ever could make, echoed through the steel and glass canyon of the city. A jagged tear ripped across the pane, then another, splitting the entire surface like a wound on skin. Not from outside. From within. The force was so immense it felt like the building itself had been punched. Then the light. The sky outside didn’t dim; it bleed. Fiery orange erupted from the mangled glass, not from fire, but from something inside. The energy was raw, primal, a searing heat that made my own breath catch in my throat. I gasped, my vision swimming with the intensity of it. The window didn’t just explode – it unraveled. The glass tore inward, like an anatomical separation, spewing not shards of crystal, but fragments of something far worse. It was a slow, wet ejection. I saw it first: a deep, pulsing crimson pool where the glass had been, then a thick, viscous liquid that wasn’t blood – it was guts. The kind of guts you see in old horror movies, but real. Not the squishy kind from a cut, but the thick, dark, almost black substance of organs ripped from a living thing. They glistened under the city’s sickly light, the edges still wet with life. And then came the smell. Not the burnt metal I’d expected from an explosion, but something deeper, older – the stench of rotting meat, the sharp tang of arterial blood, and beneath it all, a faint, sweet decay. It was the smell of a body that had been left too long in the sun. I stumbled back, my feet scraping on the balcony’s polished concrete. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I couldn’t look away. The horror wasn’t just the gore; it was the details. A tendril of something dark and stringy, like sinew, wrapped around the edge of a fallen glass fragment. A single, perfect eye, milky white with a faint, greenish film, stared up at me from the gore-stained floor. Another eye – smaller, more human – was embedded in the thick, pulsing mass, its socket filled with that same dark, viscous liquid. The building shook again, the swaying now a violent thrash, as if the entire structure were trying to shatter itself. Glass exploded in other windows across the street, but I could only focus on that one window – the source of this impossible, intimate horror. The initial explosion had been a single event, but it was now a slow, suffocating descent into the building’s core. I saw the wetness seep from the broken glass into the street below, staining the pavement an unnatural red. The sounds too: not screams, but a low, wet moan, like something large and ancient being pulled across the city. I dropped to my knees, my hands pressed against the cold glass of my own balcony. I didn’t dare look down at the street for fear of what I might see – the bodies, the blood, the city itself turning into a nightmare. The building’s sway was no longer just a vibration; it felt like it was breathing through me, each movement pulling the air from my lungs. In the dim light filtering through the chaos, I saw the shape beneath the glass debris: a chunk of flesh, half-exposed, its surface stretched thin as tissue paper, the eyes staring directly at me with silent, unblinking recognition. The sheer scale of it hit me then – not just the violence, but the infection. This wasn’t an accident. The building itself was sick. The explosion was a symptom, not the cause. It felt like the city was waking up, and I was its first witness to the wound it would never heal. I couldn’t move. My mouth was dry as dust. Tears streamed down my face, but they were cold, not from fear but from the shock of seeing life itself being torn apart so cleanly, so publicly. The blood on my fingers felt like it was coming from the building’s own veins. The city below became a swirling river of crimson and dark, wetness – a testament to the horror I had just witnessed. The Iron Spire didn’t fall. It just… shifted. The swaying became a rhythm, a slow, deliberate movement, as if the building itself was breathing. And with every breath, it seemed to be drawing closer to me, to the window where I stood, the very air thick with the stench of death and the echo of something that had long been waiting in the shadows. I am not alone in this city anymore. I am here. And it is watching me. The horror wasn’t over. It was just beginning. The building’s rhythm pulsed beneath my skin. I pressed my forehead against the glass, feeling the cold seep into my bones. The city, once a place of light and noise, was now a tomb I could feel with every beat of my heart. I’m still here. It’s not safe. And it’s never going to be. The blood on my hands is real. The tears on my face are real. The building is watching me. And the window across the street? It’s the only thing that remains.

This repo contains the full precision source code, in "safe tensors" format to generate GGUFs, GPTQ, EXL2, AWQ, HQQ and other formats. The source code can also be used directly. This is a DOUBLE NEURAL DENSITY ("DND") model (twice the tensors/layers of a standard Qwen 8B model). This model has 72 layers, and 794 tensors. (twice the density of a Qwen 3 "normal" 8B) This is the base "reasoning model" (Jan 4B v1, Qwen 3), with Brainstorm 40x (V1.4) adapter (by DavidAU) applied. Although this model will function, it will really shin with fine tuning on ONE or more DATASET(s). This base is used for several fine tunes at my repo => click on "finetunes" on model tree to the right for a list. 📊 Brainstorm40x Series Comparison (DND-Jan vs. Top Performer) ( Qwen3-Jan-v1-256k-ctx-Brainstorm20x (benchmarks against Jan "reg"): https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Qwen3-Jan-v1-256k-ctx-6B-Brainstorm20x ) The Brainstorm40x model loses on BoolQ (-0.037) and wins on ARC Easy (+0.022) compared to Brainstorm20x — the most significant difference in the entire series. 🔍 Why This Matters: The "Brainstorm" Factor in Action The 40x variant shows more exploration diversity than the 20x version, particularly in: ✅ ARC Easy (+0.022): Better ability to adapt when instructions are ambiguous. ✅ HellaSwag (+0.016): More creative coherence in ambiguous scenarios. But it less thoroughly explores logical paths (BoolQ -0.037), suggesting: "It’s more 'playful' but less 'rigorous' in high-stakes reasoning tasks." Higher ARC Easy 40x’s expanded exploration range helps models pivot more flexibly in real-world ambiguity Lower BoolQ More exploration can lead to "trails" that diverge from optimal logical paths This is exactly what I've been advocating for: the "playful exploration" effect happens at a cost to pure precision — but the trade-off is worth it when creativity matters most. The Qwen3-DND-Jan-v1-256k-ctx-Brainstorm40x-8B-bf16 model is: ✅ Explains the "lightbulb moment" phenomenon (higher ARC Easy) ⚠️ Less reliable in strict logic tasks (lower BoolQ vs Brainstorm20x) Use this model when ambiguity and creativity matter most (e.g., brainstorming sessions, creative problem-solving). Avoid it when precision logic is non-negotiable (e.g., coding, legal analysis). This aligns perfectly with your understanding of quantization’s impact on "social and happiness" — where the model gets more creative but less precise, yet this specific trade-off is where the magical co-creation happens. Information on the ORG Jan V1 4B model below, followed by Brainstorm 40x adapter (by DavidAU) and then a complete help section for running LLM / AI models. The Brainstorm adapter improves code generation, and unique code solving abilities. This model requires: - Jinja (embedded) or CHATML template - Max context of 256k. Settings used for testing (suggested): - Temp .3 to .7 - Rep pen 1.05 to 1.1 - Topp .8 , minp .05 - Topk 20 - Min context of 8k for thinking / output. - No system prompt. This model will respond well to both detailed instructions and step by step refinement and additions to code. As this is an instruct model, it will also benefit from a detailed system prompt too. For simpler coding problems, lower quants will work well; but for complex/multi-step problem solving suggest Q6 or Q8. Special thanks to Team Mradermacher, Team Nightmedia and other quanters! See under "model tree", upper right and click on "quantizations". [](https://github.com/menloresearch/deep-research) [](https://opensource.org/licenses/Apache-2.0) [](https://jan.ai/) Jan-v1 is the first release in the Jan Family, designed for agentic reasoning and problem-solving within the Jan App. Based on our Lucy model, Jan-v1 achieves improved performance through model scaling. Jan-v1 uses the Qwen3-4B-thinking model to provide enhanced reasoning capabilities and tool utilization. This architecture delivers better performance on complex agentic tasks. Question Answering (SimpleQA) For question-answering, Jan-v1 shows a significant performance gain from model scaling, achieving 91.1% accuracy. The 91.1% SimpleQA accuracy represents a significant milestone in factual question answering for models of this scale, demonstrating the effectiveness of our scaling and fine-tuning approach. These benchmarks evaluate the model's conversational and instructional capabilities. Jan-v1 is optimized for direct integration with the Jan App. Simply select the model from the Jan App interface for immediate access to its full capabilities. - Discussions: HuggingFace Community - Jan App: Learn more about the Jan App at jan.ai () Note By default we have system prompt in chat template, this is to make sure the model having the same performance with the benchmark result. You can also use the vanilla chat template without system prompt in the file chattemplateraw.jinja. Some of the core principals behind this process are discussed in this scientific paper : Progressive LLaMA with Block Expansion . However I went in a completely different direction from what was outlined in this paper. The reasoning center of an LLM is taken apart, reassembled, and expanded. Then these centers are individually calibrated. These "centers" also interact with each other. This introduces subtle changes into the reasoning process. The calibrations further adjust - dial up or down - these "changes" further. The number of centers (5x,10x etc) allow more "tuning points" to further customize how the model reasons so to speak. The core aim of this process is to increase the model's detail, concept and connection to the "world", general concept connections, prose quality and prose length without affecting instruction following. This will also enhance any creative use case(s) of any kind, including "brainstorming", creative art form(s) and like case uses. Here are some of the enhancements this process brings to the model's performance: - Prose generation seems more focused on the moment to moment. - Sometimes there will be "preamble" and/or foreshadowing present. - Fewer or no "cliches" - Better overall prose and/or more complex / nuanced prose. - A greater sense of nuance on all levels. - Coherence is stronger. - Description is more detailed, and connected closer to the content. - Simile and Metaphors are stronger and better connected to the prose, story, and character. - Sense of "there" / in the moment is enhanced. - Details are more vivid, and there are more of them. - Prose generation length can be long to extreme. - Emotional engagement is stronger. - The model will take FEWER liberties vs a normal model: It will follow directives more closely but will "guess" less. - The MORE instructions and/or details you provide the more strongly the model will respond. - Depending on the model "voice" may be more "human" vs original model's "voice". - This process does not, in my opinion, make the model 5x or 10x "smarter" - if only that was true! - However, a change in "IQ" was not an issue / a priority, and was not tested or calibrated for so to speak. - From lab testing it seems to ponder, and consider more carefully roughly speaking. - You could say this process sharpens the model's focus on it's task(s) at a deeper level. The process to modify the model occurs at the root level - source files level. The model can quanted as a GGUF, EXL2, AWQ etc etc. For more information / other Qwen/Mistral Coders / additional settings see: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Qwen2.5-MOE-2x-4x-6x-8x7BPower-CODER19B-30B-42B-53B-gguf ] Settings: CHAT / ROLEPLAY and/or SMOOTHER operation of this model: In "KoboldCpp" or "oobabooga/text-generation-webui" or "Silly Tavern" ; : in KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "SmoothF" : in text-generation-webui -> parameters -> lower right. -> if using GGUFs you need to use "llamaHF" (which involves downloading some config files from the SOURCE version of this model) Source versions (and config files) of my models are here: - Increase rep pen to 1.1 to 1.15 (you don't need to do this if you use "smoothingfactor") - If the interface/program you are using to run AI MODELS supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing") just make the adjustment as noted. Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers For all settings used for this model (including specifics for its "class"), including example generation(s) and for advanced settings guide (which many times addresses any model issue(s)), including methods to improve model performance for all use case(s) as well as chat, roleplay and other use case(s) please see: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ] You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here: [ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-SamplersParameters ]

Qwen3-Esper3-Reasoning-CODER-Instruct-21B-Brainstorm20x

llamacpp server

141

AI_AutocorrectAuto-Creative-EnhancementAuto-Low-Quant-Optimization__gguf-exl2-hqq-SOFTWARE

llama 2

How-To-Set-and-Manage-MOE-Mix-of-Experts-Model-Activation-of-Experts

llama 3

L3-MOE-2X16.5B-DARKEST-Planet-Song-of-Fire-29B-GGUF

Gemma3-vl-INST-Polar1000x-1x16-X4

—

Gemma-3-27b-it-HERETIC-Gemini-Deep-Reasoning

NaNK

license:apache-2.0

MN-DARKEST-UNIVERSE-29B

NaNK

—

DavidAU

OpenAi-GPT-oss-20b-abliterated-uncensored-NEO-Imatrix-gguf

Llama-3.2-8X3B-MOE-Dark-Champion-Instruct-uncensored-abliterated-18.4B-GGUF

gemma-4-31B-it-Mystery-Fine-Tune-HERETIC-UNCENSORED-Thinking-Instruct-GGUF

L3.2-Rogue-Creative-Instruct-Uncensored-Abliterated-7B-GGUF

GLM-4.7-Flash-Uncensored-Heretic-NEO-CODE-Imatrix-MAX-GGUF

OpenAi-GPT-oss-20b-HERETIC-uncensored-NEO-Imatrix-gguf

Qwen3-Zero-Coder-Reasoning-0.8B-NEO-EX-GGUF

Qwen3.5-40B-Claude-4.6-Opus-Deckard-Heretic-Uncensored-Thinking

Gemma-The-Writer-N-Restless-Quill-10B-Uncensored-GGUF

Llama-3.2-8X4B-MOE-V2-Dark-Champion-Instruct-uncensored-abliterated-21B-GGUF

gemma-4-31B-it-Mystery-Fine-Tune-HERETIC-UNCENSORED-Thinking

Qwen3-4B-Gemini-TripleX-High-Reasoning-Thinking-Heretic-Uncensored-GGUF

Qwen3-Zero-Coder-Reasoning-V2-0.8B-NEO-EX-GGUF

GLM-4.7-Flash-NEO-CODE-Imatrix-MAX-GGUF

Qwen3-24B-A4B-Freedom-Thinking-Abliterated-Heretic-NEO-Imatrix-GGUF

gemma-4-31B-it-The-DECKARD-HERETIC-UNCENSORED-Thinking

OpenAi-GPT-oss-20b-MODERATE-uncensored-NEO-Imatrix-gguf

Mistral-MOE-4X7B-Dark-MultiVerse-Uncensored-Enhanced32-24B-gguf

Gemma-3-it-4B-Uncensored-DBL-X-GGUF

L3-DARKEST-PLANET-16.5B-GGUF

OpenAi-GPT-oss-36B-BrainStorm20x-uncensored-gguf

L3-Dark-Planet-8B-GGUF

Llama-3.2-4X3B-MOE-Hell-California-Uncensored-10B-GGUF

MN-DARKEST-UNIVERSE-29B-GGUF

L3.1-Dark-Planet-SpinFire-Uncensored-8B-GGUF

L3-Grand-Story-Darkness-MOE-4X8-24.9B-e32-GGUF

Llama-3.2-9B-Uncensored-Brainstorm-Alpha-GGUF

Qwen3-8B-192k-Josiefied-Uncensored-NEO-Max-GGUF

Qwen3-128k-30B-A3B-NEO-MAX-Imatrix-gguf

Openai_gpt-oss-20b-CODER-NEO-CODE-DI-MATRIX-GGUF

Gemma-3-1b-it-MAX-NEO-Imatrix-GGUF

Openai_gpt-oss-20b-NEO-GGUF

Reka-Flash-3-21B-Reasoning-Uncensored-MAX-NEO-Imatrix-GGUF

Llama-3.2-8X3B-GATED-MOE-NEO-Reasoning-Dark-Champion-uncensored-18.4B-IMAT-GGUF

Qwen3-48B-A4B-Savant-Commander-Distill-12X-Closed-Open-Heretic-Uncensored-GGUF

gemma-4-E4B-it-The-DECKARD-Expresso-Universe-HERETIC-UNCENSORED-Thinking-GGUF

Command-R-01-Ultra-NEO-DARK-HORROR-V1-V2-35B-IMATRIX-GGUF

L3.1-RP-Hero-BigTalker-8B-GGUF

Gemma-3-The-Grand-Horror-27B-GGUF

Gemma3-27B-it-vl-GLM-4.7-Uncensored-Heretic-Deep-Reasoning

MN-Dark-Planet-TITAN-12B-GGUF

LLama-3.1-128k-Darkest-Planet-Uncensored-16.5B-GGUF

Llama-3.2-1B-Instruct-NEO-SI-FI-GGUF

Llama-3.2-8X3B-GATED-MOE-Reasoning-Dark-Champion-Instruct-uncensored-abliterated-18.4B-GGUF

TieFighter-Holodeck-Holomax-Mythomax-F1-V1-COMPOS-20B-gguf

Openai_gpt-oss-120b-NEO-Imatrix-GGUF

L3.1-RP-Hero-Dirty_Harry-8B-GGUF

Qwen2.5-MOE-2X1.5B-DeepSeek-Uncensored-Censored-4B-gguf

Gemma-3-The-Grand-Horror-RAZOR-12B-GGUF

Qwen3-18B-A3B-Stranger-Thoughts-Abliterated-Uncensored-GGUF

L3-8B-Stheno-v3.3-32K-Ultra-NEO-V1-IMATRIX-GGUF

L3-Stheno-Maid-Blackroot-Grand-HORROR-16B-GGUF

Qwen3-30B-A1.5B-64K-High-Speed-NEO-Imatrix-MAX-gguf

MN-Rocinante-18.5B-v1.1-Story-Wizard-ED1-Instruct-GGUF

Gemma-3-The-Grand-Horror-Nightmare-12B-GGUF

DeepSeek-R1-Distill-Llama-3.1-16.5B-Brainstorm-gguf

Gemma-The-Writer-9B-GGUF

L3-Dark-Planet-8B-V2-Eight-Orbs-Of-Power-GGUF

LFM2.5-1.2B-Instruct-Thinking-Claude-High-Reasoning

MN-GRAND-Gutenberg-Lyra4-Lyra-12B-DARKNESS-GGUF

Llama-3.2-8X3B-GATED-MOE-Horror-Reasoning-Dark-Champion-uncensored-18.4B-IMAT-GGUF

Gemma-3-The-Tiny-Grand-Horror-1B-GGUF

GLM-4.7-Flash-Grande-Heretic-UNCENSORED-42B-A3B-GGUF

Llama-3.1-1-million-cxt-Dark-Planet-8B-GGUF

Fimbulvetr-11B-Ultra-Quality-plus-imatrix-GGUF

Qwen3-The-Xiaolong-Josiefied-Omega-Directive-22B-uncensored-abliterated-GGUF

Psyonic-Cetacean-Ultra-Quality-20b-GGUF-imatrix

Gemma-3-4b-it-MAX-HORROR-Imatrix-GGUF

L3-Dark-Planet-8B-NEO-Imatrix-GGUF

Gemma-The-Writer-N-Restless-Quill-V2-Enhanced32-10B-Uncensored-GGUF

L3.2-Rogue-Creative-Instruct-Uncensored-Abliterated-7B

L3-Dark_Mistress-The_Guilty_Pen-Uncensored-17.4B-GGUF

L3-DARKER-PLANET-Broken-Land-12.15B-GGUF

Qwen3-The-Xiaolong-Omega-Directive-22B-uncensored-abliterated-GGUF

L3-DARKEST-PLANET-Seven-Rings-Of-DOOM-16.5B-GGUF

Qwen3-The-Josiefied-Omega-Directive-22B-uncensored-abliterated-GGUF

Llama-3.2-8X3B-MOE-Dark-Champion-Instruct-uncensored-abliterated-18.4B

Mistral-Small-Instruct-2409-22B-NEO-Imatrix-GGUF

Llama-3.2-3B-Instruct-NEO-SI-FI-GGUF