User 60baa958fda0... - AI Fiction in the Wild

IP #165

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1 fiction conversations over 10 months, 7 days (Jun 19, 2023 – Apr 22, 2024) 30% prompt uniqueness Minas Gerais, Brazil

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These IP addresses have similar average prompt embeddings (cosine similarity ≥ 0.85, same state). View as estimated user →

23cf23353058... (328 conv., Minas Gerais) 5e636519aa50... (6 conv., Minas Gerais) 92feaf368939... (647 conv., Minas Gerais) a7a6be5ab9c0... (177 conv., Minas Gerais) be8c41eb66a5... (228 conv., Minas Gerais) c1241eb451ee... (19 conv., Minas Gerais)

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Jun 19, 2023

Apr 22, 2024

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Conversation Clusters (51)

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1 conversation in cluster Cluster 30× “Act as a text adventure game that I'm playing. In this game,...” over less than a minute (Dec 2, 2023 – Dec 2, 2023), oldest first. Show: 10 15 50 100

Dec 2, 2023 at 12:51 PM -03 — 1 turn Brazil, Minas Gerais fiction View full conversation

USER: Act as a text adventure game that I'm playing. In this game, the setting takes place in a sumerian city state in bronze age mesopotamia. Conversations should be complex and each location should have at least 6 sentence descriptions. Start by descriptively displaying at least 5 paragraphs of the first location at the beginning of the game, which is a me, a young sumerian man, waking up in my simple house and wait for me to give you my first command.

CHATBOT: Dawn's early light filters through the small openings of your mud brick residence, casting a warm amber hue across the room. You awaken on a modest reed mat that serves as your bed, nestled in the southwest corner of your single-room abode. As your eyes scan the interior, they pass over the woven baskets containing barley and emmer wheat -- evidence of your labor in the nearby fields. Limestone jars of water rest against the wall, the remnants of a sweet date wine scenting the air faintly. A low wooden table lies in the center, bearing the simple tools of your daily existence: a small bronze dagger, a clay bowl, and a stylus beside a clay tablet, waiting to record the day's accounts. Standing, your joints protest slightly, whispers of the previous day's toil. The walls of your home are lined with reed mats, providing modest insulation against the desert's mercurial moods. A shelf carved into the wall cradles small clay figurines -- offerings to the household gods for protection and favor. The morning light casts long shadows on a loom in the corner, half-completed with a woolen shawl, a testament to your skill and patience. You step over to the hearth, a small pit in the center of the room, where the embers of last night's fire still smolder beneath a thin layer of ash. A tripod of copper stands over it, holding a cauldron used to prepare last evening's meal. Beside the hearth, a low stool and a flat grinding stone speak to the daily ritual of preparing grain, while a palette of colored ocher lies nearby, used occasionally to brighten the walls with modest patterns. Your wardrobe is a simple wooden chest near the bed, containing a few garments of linen and wool. You run your fingers over the tunics, noting their sturdy weave -- evidence of your family's skilled craftsmanship. The tunic you choose for the day is dyed a rich ochre, standing out against the otherwise earthen tones of your surroundings. Outside, the city stirs to life. From beyond the walls of your house, you hear the distant bellowing of oxen and the gentle clinking of artisans' tools. The air smells of baking bread and the Tigris nearby, a constant reminder of the lifeblood of your city-state. Today is not unlike any other, yet the persistent hum of possibility lingers in the air. You're not sure why, but you have the undeniable sense that today could be the beginning of a significant journey. Awaiting your command, you contemplate your first action of the day.

Cluster 30