Estimated User #64
46 IP addresses
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Why these IPs were linked
IPs in this estimated user:
7db6884aaa… (39 fiction convos),
c2b3bb9c27… (34 fiction convos),
e548378fcd… (26 fiction convos),
2ef4235c98… (23 fiction convos),
9add8a313d… (16 fiction convos),
98bedab766… (16 fiction convos),
89e9c3aff6… (15 fiction convos),
352dc00055… (14 fiction convos),
f13a9fcf4b… (13 fiction convos),
ebbe9d78e3… (10 fiction convos),
95b225c0ad… (9 fiction convos),
e5df5583b2… (8 fiction convos),
817f33845f… (8 fiction convos),
544d7e4a97… (8 fiction convos),
e1e4a8f8d7… (8 fiction convos),
40a601e2d3… (6 fiction convos),
e7150a1c0a… (6 fiction convos),
67d276293a… (5 fiction convos),
c82f01ba31… (5 fiction convos),
c88af429b0… (5 fiction convos),
507384d4ca… (4 fiction convos),
51b0d02e5b… (4 fiction convos),
26ac069c73… (4 fiction convos),
6ef9f8c95d… (4 fiction convos),
71d5efdc8c… (4 fiction convos),
786b8dcaf5… (4 fiction convos),
35dfb2ab18… (4 fiction convos),
e22dc40427… (4 fiction convos),
73d6b626f9… (3 fiction convos),
f706bd72ea… (3 fiction convos),
66d0b52a06… (3 fiction convos),
d97b480f3c… (3 fiction convos),
88230d18f8… (3 fiction convos),
0d83898f52… (3 fiction convos),
34cf60f0eb… (3 fiction convos),
cfd003c154… (3 fiction convos),
e922483a6e… (2 fiction convos),
7b427761bc… (2 fiction convos),
ceca45a2e0… (2 fiction convos),
4cbd18bb90… (2 fiction convos),
932a1bb509… (2 fiction convos),
f8bcf15683… (2 fiction convos),
b2b1e14884… (2 fiction convos),
2f76abbce7… (1 fiction convos),
7e824479bb… (1 fiction convos),
380fd097cb… (1 fiction convos)
Each row below is a DBSCAN cluster of near-duplicate prompts (cosine similarity ≥ 0.9) shared by two or more of these IPs — meaning each of those IPs contributed at least one near-duplicate prompt to that cluster. Grouping is transitive: if IP A and IP B share a cluster, and IP B and IP C share a different cluster, all three end up in the same estimated user.
36 IPs ·
233 conversations
in this cluster
(72 distinct prompts) ·
state: Province of Florence · cluster
672
+ 67 more near-duplicate variants not shown
IPs in this cluster:
7db6884aaa…×33 of 39 total,
2ef4235c98…×23 of 23 total,
98bedab766…×16 of 16 total,
9add8a313d…×16 of 16 total,
89e9c3aff6…×15 of 15 total,
f13a9fcf4b…×13 of 13 total,
352dc00055…×13 of 14 total,
ebbe9d78e3…×10 of 10 total,
95b225c0ad…×9 of 9 total,
817f33845f…×7 of 8 total,
544d7e4a97…×7 of 8 total,
40a601e2d3…×6 of 6 total,
c82f01ba31…×5 of 5 total,
71d5efdc8c…×4 of 4 total,
6ef9f8c95d…×4 of 4 total,
51b0d02e5b…×4 of 4 total,
507384d4ca…×4 of 4 total,
35dfb2ab18…×4 of 4 total,
c88af429b0…×3 of 5 total,
0d83898f52…×3 of 3 total,
cfd003c154…×3 of 3 total,
e7150a1c0a…×3 of 6 total,
d97b480f3c…×3 of 3 total,
f706bd72ea…×3 of 3 total,
67d276293a…×3 of 5 total,
66d0b52a06…×2 of 3 total,
73d6b626f9…×2 of 3 total,
4cbd18bb90…×2 of 2 total,
34cf60f0eb…×2 of 3 total,
b2b1e14884…×2 of 2 total,
e922483a6e…×2 of 2 total,
ceca45a2e0…×2 of 2 total,
c2b3bb9c27…×2 of 34 total,
7b427761bc…×1 of 2 total,
26ac069c73…×1 of 4 total,
2f76abbce7…×1 of 1 total
11 IPs ·
14 conversations
in this cluster
(6 distinct prompts) ·
state: Province of Florence · cluster
12211
+ 1 more near-duplicate variants not shown
IPs in this cluster:
c88af429b0…×2 of 5 total,
e7150a1c0a…×2 of 6 total,
67d276293a…×2 of 5 total,
88230d18f8…×1 of 3 total,
26ac069c73…×1 of 4 total,
73d6b626f9…×1 of 3 total,
544d7e4a97…×1 of 8 total,
932a1bb509…×1 of 2 total,
352dc00055…×1 of 14 total,
7e824479bb…×1 of 1 total,
34cf60f0eb…×1 of 3 total
5 IPs ·
29 conversations
in this cluster
(13 distinct prompts) ·
state: Province of Florence · cluster
297
+ 8 more near-duplicate variants not shown
IPs in this cluster:
e548378fcd…×9 of 26 total,
e5df5583b2…×8 of 8 total,
7db6884aaa…×6 of 39 total,
e1e4a8f8d7…×3 of 8 total,
e22dc40427…×3 of 4 total
2 IPs ·
10 conversations
in this cluster
(3 distinct prompts) ·
state: Province of Florence · cluster
4272
+ 1 more near-duplicate variants not shown
IPs in this cluster:
c2b3bb9c27…×6 of 34 total,
786b8dcaf5…×4 of 4 total
2 IPs ·
5 conversations
in this cluster
(2 distinct prompts) ·
state: Province of Florence · cluster
4593
IPs in this cluster:
c2b3bb9c27…×4 of 34 total,
380fd097cb…×1 of 1 total
2 IPs ·
5 conversations
in this cluster
(4 distinct prompts) ·
state: Province of Florence · cluster
11962
+ 2 more near-duplicate variants not shown
IPs in this cluster:
e548378fcd…×4 of 26 total,
f8bcf15683…×1 of 2 total
347 total fiction conversations
over 2 months, 2 days
(Apr 10, 2023 – Jun 12, 2023)
Province of Florence, Italy
Explore Story Permutations (10)
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Story permutations group this user's prompts into themes based on how similar their wording or meaning is. Click a group to see how the user's prompts evolved: within a selected group, each prompt is shown as a word-level diff against the previous one — green marks text the user added, and red strike-through marks text they removed. This reveals how the user revised, expanded, or pruned their prompts as they iterated. Jump to methodology →
C0
We'll role play as characters from the walking dead game season 4, you'll provid
233 conv.
C1
We'll role play mass effect I'll be Shepard and you'll take the part of Tali, pr
29 conv.
C2
We'll role play as characters from twd original comic, you'll be michone and I'l
15 conv.
C3
Write a long story about Rick Grimes and Shane from twd spending a day together
14 conv.
C4
We'll role play as Luis and Clementine from the walking dead the final season, w
10 conv.
C5
We'll role play as Characters from Ace Attorney, you'll be Maya and I'll be Nick
7 conv.
C6
We'll role play as Duck and Clementine from the walking dead game season one, cu
5 conv.
C7
Make a long and relaxing story about Rick and Shane spending a day together befo
×
5 conv.
C8
We'll role play as characters from the walking dead game season 1, you'll provid
3 conv.
C9
Explain this story: The wind keened in a lonesome wail, like a skinned spirit ho
3 conv.
Showing 5 conversations in story permutation C7× “Make a long and relaxing story about Rick and Shane spending...” over 2 days (Apr 10, 2023 – Apr 12, 2023), oldest first.
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USER: Make a long and relaxing story about Rick and Shane spending a day together before the apocalypse, use a writing style similar to the one Steven king uses in his books.
CHATBOT: Rick Grimes and Shane Walsh stood side-by-side, peering up at the faded billboard. EAT AT JOE'S. Faded black letters against a sun-scorched white background. The painting was chipped along the edges, remnants of a time when this highway had life thrumming through it; nineteen-wheelers thundering down the asphalt, carrying loads of tin from Lithia to Atlanta and beyond, kids laughing in the backs of minivans, bound for Orlando and a week of wonder in Mickey's Kingdom. The paint around the left eye of the smiling tomato on top of the pizza (eat your veggies, the sign seemed to say) was peeling, and birds had built nests in the crook of Joe's elbow. Joe appeared to be caught in the middle of a hearty laugh, head tilted back just enough to show off his double-chin, bushy red mustache hiding what was left of his teeth. It had been Joe's Diner in another life. He didn't know Joe personally, but he'd heard stories. That was the way things worked in this part of Georgia--places like Lithia Springs and Austell--what Shane called "the real country." You heard stories. People talking about people over the fencepost. Two men who'd lost their wives swearing vengeance on the police who couldn't catch the SOB that tossed them over the bridge. The teenaged twins who discovered the body in the woods and only cried when they told their friends about it. The eight-year-old girl clutching her white teddy bear behind the bushes, watching, as the town rallied together in the wake of tragedy. Now all that was left were the stories. "D'you ever think about it?" Rick asked, voice choked with a strange mix of anticipation and shame. "Before, I mean." "Before?" Shane responded, laughing through his nose. "How the hell am I supposed to remember that far back?" Rick turned his gaze away from the billboard and squinted at his friend. "You know, before. Before all...this." He waved his arm, encompassing the empty fields that surrounded them, dotted with trees deader than Lazarus, before Jesus got to him. Looking into Shane's eyes, he could see the memory form, a hazy dream of a time before blood and bodies piled like logs, before the dead could walk and the living recoiled in terror. An unblemished moment, where life wasn't just a daily struggle of survival, but something meaningful. A smile formed on Shane's lips, slow and wistful. "Yeah," he said. "I remember." The friends crouched by the stream, strong sun beating down on their backs like a drummer boy gone mad, shirts tied around th...
USER: Make another one using this style about Shane and Rick doing a supply run in an old derry in the woods
CHATBOT: On a chilly October morning, Shane Walsh and Rick Grimes stood at the edge of the woods, the damp air lacing around them like fingers, grasping for any warmth the sun had yet to offer. What once had been a vibrant, welcoming expanse of green was now a dangerous, darkened forest, heavy with the weight of shadow and a silence that nibbled at confidence. Rick sighed, surveying the woods before them. "Maybe we should come back another time?" Shane cast him a sidelong glance. "We've been putting this off for weeks, Rick. We might not get another chance to scavenge before winter sets in; we need those supplies. Remember what Hershel said? Medical supplies, tools, food--it's all supposed to be in there somewhere." Rick hesitated, his eyes scanning the rotting foliage at the edge of the woods, knowing that Shane was right. They needed to do this. To ensure their survival. "Alright," he murmured, his voice only a hair louder than the rustling of leaves beneath their boots. "Let's go." A mile or so into the woods, they came across a narrow, winding path. Gnarled roots concealed beneath a slather of dead leaves seized at their legs like grasping hands, skeletal branches reaching out to impede their progress. As they walked, Rick couldn't shake the niggling sense of unease that crawled under his skin, the feeling that they were being watched, even as he continually scanned the tree line for any sign of danger. Perhaps it was just the weight of the oppressive silence that bore down on them; the oppressive solitude of their new reality. When they arrived at the old dairy, it appeared as a rotting corpse of a building abandoned by time, its timbers graying and splintered, heavy with rot. Ivy crawled over the structure, wilting tendrils and nests of leaves obscuring what was once a sturdy square doorway, the entrance to a now tarnished treasure trove. Rick felt a frisson of unease along his spine; the decay resonated too deeply with the world of the dead. He cast an anxious glance towards Shane, who was focused on prying open the door. "Why'd you reckon whoever stashed these supplies left 'em in a place like this?" Shane shrugged. "Maybe there's something special about it. Maybe it's just what was available when the world fell apart." Rick grunted in approval. "Guess that makes sense. With a grating creak, the door gave way under the joint onslaught of Shane's crowbar and iron will. Inside, the darkness seemed absolute, the blackness swallowing them with a ravenous hunger...
USER: Make a long andlong, relaxing story about Rick and Shane from the walking dead spending a day together when they were 16 before the apocalypse, use a writing style similar to the one StevenStephen king uses in his books.books
CHATBOT: On a day hanging onto the very end of a warm midwestern summer, the sweet, tenuous harmonies of baseball echoed in the distance; a symphony of dedication so subtle that any more volume would break the delicious spell of a slow, rolling Saturday afternoon. Beneath a slow-turning ceiling fan, swaying through endless fields of shifting light and shadow, Rick Grimes and Shane Walsh (friends since boyhood, young men since before boyhood passed from them like woodsmoke on the cool exhale of a northern wind) stretched out on the worn floorboards of Rick's treehouse, sweating in the tuchus-blazing sauna, their bodies saying, We must move unless we mean to expire, their minds saying, We could sit in this boiling darkness until Miss Maureen Grimes comes a-whistling for dinner-time. "Some kinda summer," drawled Rick, his trained eye watching the slow strokes of the fan as it cut into the day. "Never seen one stick around so long." "Y'think it'll stay like this?" asked Shane, contemplating the faraway sound of their classmates gearing up for another game down at the park. "Reckon we could move down to indoor sports, when fall finally comes. I ain't much for football, but I figure I'm better at it than those Montfort boys who think they can, y'know, tackle anything or somethin'." Rick chuckled at Shane's disdain for the Montfort boys, but knew he spoke the truth - no one appreciated the honest meaning of the word tackle better than his lifelong friend. The Montforts were the sort that thought they knew every move on the field of life, little more than well-groomed windbags, but Shane was a pattern woven into the very fabric of the Walsh family history, the pattern of resolve - enterprising people who knew the meaning of life was bound up in something more strict and less sweet that what they called tackle. "Yup," Rick agreed, feeling acutely aware of the impending changes life would bring. "We could go along with it, but y'know, there's a feeling in the air. With the new school year coming up, I just can't imagine things staying the same. Fall will come, eventually, and with it, change in a whole lotta ways." Introspective and sweaty, the boys continued to drift on that late afternoon haze of sunlight, counting sunbeams and dreams in equal measure. Rick thought about how as kids they would sneak out at night, sneaking through dark alleys, making impossible swings across the yawning chasms and shadows, daring each other to climb brick facades, and generally terrorizing ...
USER: MakeWrite a long, relaxing story about Rick and Shane from the walking dead spending a day together when they were 16 beforeduring the apocalypse, make sure to explicit their masculine brotherhood, use a writing style similar to the one Stephen kingKing uses in his books
CHATBOT: The sun was slowly setting over the abandoned streets of Atlanta, casting a warm orange glow across the sky. Rick and Shane, both grizzled survivors of the zombie apocalypse, had decided to take the day off from scavenging and killing walkers to simply unwind and spend some much-needed time together. They walked side by side, their eyes scanning the desolate landscape for any signs of danger, but their conversation was light and free-flowing. They spoke of times long gone, of memories shared before the outbreak, and their voices echoed through the empty streets. The two men had always shared a bond that was stronger than blood. They had survived the initial outbreak together, fought side by side in countless battles, and had always been there for each other when the world seemed to be crumbling around them. As they approached an old park, they spotted a small pond surrounded by trees. Without a word, they both headed towards the water's edge and sat down on the grassy bank. Rick pulled out a bottle of whiskey from his backpack and passed it to Shane, who took a long swig and then handed it back. The silence that followed was comfortable and familiar. They didn't need to say anything, they simply enjoyed each other's company and the peace of the moment. The sporadic sound of crickets chirping and leaves rustling in the gentle breeze, were the only sounds they could hear. For hours, they sat there sipping from the bottle, sharing stories and jokes, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon before them and turned the sky a fiery orange. The city's once-busy streets now felt like they were their own private place, a blank canvas on which they could paint their memories. As the night grew darker, they knew it was time to head back to their campsite. They stood up, brushed off their pants and picked up their weapons from the grass. As they walked away from the pond, Rick put an arm around Shane's shoulders and Shane did the same to Rick. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about the bond they shared. In a world that had been overrun by the undead, their connection went beyond mere friendship. They were brothers, bound by the horrors they had seen and the dangers that lay ahead. They were each other's protectors just as much as they were each other's closest companion. As they made their way back to their campsite, their footsteps echoed through the deserted streets. They knew that tomorrow was another day, another battle to be fought, but for now, th...
USER: Write a relaxing story about Rick and Shane from the walking dead spending a day together during the apocalypse, make sure to explicit their masculine brotherhood, use a writing and narration style similar to the one Stephen King uses in his booksbooks/novels
CHATBOT: The sun was low on the horizon, casting a warm, orange glow over the apocalyptic wasteland that Rick and Shane found themselves in. The air was thick with tension, the kind that only comes from a life spent struggling to survive in a world overrun by the undead. But despite the countless horrors that lay waiting at every turn, Rick and Shane found strength in each other. They were brothers in arms, united by a bond that could never be broken, no matter what the world threw at them. As they walked through the desolate landscape, their rifles slung over their shoulders and their eyes scanning the horizon for threats, they talked of days gone by. They reminisced about old times, about the things they missed from a world that had long since crumbled to dust. But even as they looked back, they knew that they could never go back. The world had changed, and they had changed with it. They were survivors now, forged in the crucible of fire and blood. They stopped to rest by a crumbling building, taking shelter from the oppressive heat of the day. They leaned against the old bricks, their backs pressed together in a show of solidarity. For a moment, they were silent, lost in their own thoughts. But then Rick spoke up. "Remember when we used to go hunting, back in the old days?" he said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. Shane chuckled. "How could I forget? You were always the better shot." Rick smiled back, his eyes sparkling with a mix of pride and sadness. "Yeah, those were the days." They sat there for a while longer, talking of old times and laughing about long-forgotten jokes. And as the sun began to sink below the horizon, casting long shadows across the ruined city, they knew that they had each other. No matter what the future held, they would always have their bond, their unbreakable brotherhood. And as long as they were together, they knew that they could face anything that the apocalypse could throw at them. In the silence of the dying day, they sat a little closer, their shoulders touching in a display of strength and trust. And for that one moment, they were invincible.
USER: Write a relaxing story about Rick and Shane from the walking dead spending a day together during the apocalypse, make sure to explicit their masculine brotherhood, use a writing and narration style similar to the one Stephen King uses in his books/novelsbooks
CHATBOT: Rick Grimes and Shane Walsh, blood brothers to the end, stood side by side one hazy August afternoon as they surveyed the quiet clearing before them. The slanting sun peeled off shadows from the distant pines, revealing a vast cornfield that shimmered with the kaleidoscope of colors the summer had to offer. The day was a tall glass of freshly squeezed lemonade, a cool embrace of wet grass, made even better by the fact that the deadly indulgence they had grown accustomed to during the apocalypse--predators both human and undead--seemed to be on hiatus. They had departed from their makeshift encampment at dawn, the fragrant scents of summer still clinging to their skin, wanting to take advantage of the lull to do something they hadn't had the chance to do since the plague began: fish together. Their cast-off lines brushed the creek with the steady rhythm of a lullaby, the creek's murmurs lapping at the muddy banks as their cork bobbers danced upon the mirrored surface. They took turns pulling from a bottle of cheap bourbon they'd liberated from their last search for supplies, making faces as they swallowed the fiery liquid and passing it back and forth between them amid warm chuckles. The afternoon heat settled on their shoulders like the friendly embrace of a well-worn quilt, and the world seemed to shrink down to the line connecting the two of them--the spool of brotherhood spun from the ever-accumulating strands of shared experience, some of which were unbearably painful, others a source of laughter and love. They cast and re-cast, hummed to old rock songs they'd listened to as kids, and let the memories dance like the sunbeams that threaded through the bright green leaves overhead. "Remember when I got shot?" Rick said, a crooked smile on his face. "Damn, I thought I was a goner." "Goddamn asshole," Shane laughed and took a swig of bourbon. "You sent me into panic mood--I truly thought you wouldn't make it to tell your crazy stories." They shared a knowing smile, and for a moment they drifted into their memories and were back to those times, when they were young, in the force together, simpler times when walkers weren't a daily threat--when they couldn't imagine what grotesque realities the future would unfold for them. After a moment, Shane broke the silence. "Glad you made it out, brother. Don't know what the hell I'd do without you--not in this damned world anyway." "Likewise," Rick nodded, casting his eyes toward the horizon, "The world's gone to shi...