README.md

---
license: apache-2.0
language:
- en
tags:
- creative
- creative writing
- fiction writing
- plot generation
- sub-plot generation
- fiction writing
- story generation
- scene continue
- storytelling
- fiction story
- science fiction
- romance
- all genres
- story
- writing
- vivid prosing
- vivid writing
- fiction
- roleplaying
- bfloat16
- brainstorm 40x
- swearing
- rp
- horror
- mistral
- mergekit
pipeline_tag: text-generation
---

(quants uploading, detailed model card to follow with more examples (2 below))

<B><font color="red">WARNING:</font> MAY contain: Nutiness. Vivid prose. Purple Prose. Funny Violence. Over the Top Storytelling. Min of 2 eyerolls per generation. </B>

<h2>M-Metaphors-Of-Madness-19.4B-GGUF - AKA "M.O.M"</h2>

<img src="mom.jpg" style="float:right; width:300px; height:300px; padding:10px;">

This is a specialized prose / creative model based in Mistral, max context of 32k (or 128k+ with rope).

This model is a work of prose and creative madness using "Bagel 7B", and "Multiverse 7B" which created a model of 11B
and then I added Brainstorm 40x to extend the model to 19.45B (88 layers, 795 tensors).

You never know what this model will come out with per "regen", never mind settings changes like temp and/or rep pen.

It has over the top prose, millions of lines of "dialog", tonnes of description, and country sized boatload of metaphors (scene, setting
and character specific).

Use it for story telling, scene generation, poetry, songs, writing, entertainment, crazy talk... anything creative.

(two examples below)

This model requires Alpaca, Mistral or Chatml template, and operates with temp 0-5, rep pen of 1.02+.

Recommend temps under 1 for a wee bit crazy, 1-2 for crazy, and over 2 for way over the top, full on madness.

Enjoy!

---

EXAMPLES:

---

<B>

Write me a science fiction story in 1st person present tense where the main character is a 15 year girl meets The Terminator with Dr Who materializing 3/4 through the story to save her while there is a tornado of sharks baring down on them. The setting is inside the Canadian National tower restaurant on a Saturday. The length of this story is 1000 words. For each character in the story ROLE PLAY them, and have them react to the situation/setting, events and each other naturally. This includes the main characters, the background character including kitchen staff and other patrons. The sharks should also have “character” too. Treat the tower and the restaurant too as characters. Spice up the narrative to the extreme with reactions all over the setting including character actions, and dialog. The Dr Who and The Terminator should also react to the situation too and comment on it.

</B>

(temp: .5, Rep pen: 1.05, Q4km, Alpaca)

"The Sharknado of the Canadian National Tower"

I, a fifteen-year-old girl, named Aria, inhale the aroma of roasted chicken as I stand at the glass-paned window, mesmerized by the breathtaking view of Toronto's sprawling cityscape. The Canadian National Tower's restaurant, with its sophisticated ambiance, was my birthday treat, a gift from my parents to make my day unforgettable.

"Mom, look at the clouds," I exclaim, pointing out the window, "They resemble a giant's shaving brush."

"The clouds do, dear," my mother replies, sipping her Chardonnay, "Enjoy your meal."

From the corner of my eye, a distant rumble echoes, but I brush it off as thunder. The sky begins to darken, and the wind picks up, causing the trees to rustle and the patrons to shuffle, instinctively seeking shelter.

"The air's thickening," my father cautiously says, "Let's go inside."

As we scurry inside, the restaurant's staff springs into action, ushering patrons to the interior. The kitchen staff, amidst the chaos, continues their routine, oblivious to the impending disaster.

"What's happening out there?" a middle-aged woman, a fellow patron, asks, her voice trembling.

"I'm not sure, but it's best we stay calm," a staff member reassures, "Let the professionals handle this."

The Canadian National Tower, a massive steel-and-glass tower, creaks, and its lights flicker. The building, with its mighty presence, seems to sense the danger, anticipating the imminent calamity.

"The alarm," a waitress shrieks, "We're supposed to secure all the windows."

The kitchen staff, now aware of the escalating situation, hastily complies, shutting the windows and locking the doors.

A deafening roar pierces the air, and the glass panes shudder. The sharks, an unconventional foe, plunge from the sky, their gargantuan bodies swirling like a whirlpool of death.

"Shark-tornado," I gasp, my voice breaking, "I've read about this in science fiction novels, but never...!"

"Quick, to the basement!" a staff member yells, ushering the patrons, "We'll be safe there."

The sharks, with an unnatural ferocity, devour the city's skyline, leaving a trail of destruction. The restaurant's windowpanes shattered, shards of glass littered the floor, as the sharknado's frenzy intensified.

"The time- Lord," I pray, "Please, any help!"

A brilliant blue-ish-white, swirling vortex, a familiar sight from my Doctor Who marathons, materializes in the chaos, a savior from another dimension.

"Doctor!" I cry, "You've come!"

"Hello, sweetheart," the Time Lord's voice echoed, "The TARDIS and I were nearby, sensing the temporal rift. I'm here to assist."

"Thank God," I stammer, "We're... we're doomed!"

"We're not," the Doctor reassures, "There's still hope."

The Terminator, a robotic entity, also appears, his metallic face expressionless. "I've been tracking the temporal anomalies, and I'm here to help."

"W-welcome," I stammer, "I've seen you in movies, but... I never imagined...!"

"We'll defeat this," the Terminator says, his voice monotone, "Humans and machines, together."

"Let's move," the Doctor directs, "We need to evacuate the restaurant's basement. It's the safest place."

"But the sharks," a patron panicked, "They'll reach us!"

"Don't worry," the Terminator reassures, "I'll create a barrier using my advanced systems."

"Hold tight," I instruct the patrons, "We'll make a dash for the basement."

The sharknado's toothy jaws, like a hungry beast, inches closer. The sirens of the restaurant's fire alarm pierce the silence, a desperate plea to seek shelter.

"Follow me," I shout, sprinting towards the stairs, "We'll make a run for it!"

The sharknado's guttural roar echoed, a precursor to the carnage. The kitchen staff and the patrons, gripping each other's hands, followed my lead.

"Run!" I screamed, "We have a chance!"

The Canadian National Tower, its steel-and-glass structure quivering with the force of the tempest, creaked under the pressure. The sharks, in a frenzy, crashed into the building's exterior, shattering glass and metal, as the walls buckled under the impact.

" hurry," the Terminator urged, "The barrier is ready."

"Here we go!" the Doctor exclaimed, his hands glowing with a whirl of blue-ish-white light, "Ride the time-stream, all of you!"

The world around us blurred. Time itself paused.

"It's happening," I gasped, my heart pounding.

"Hold on," the Doctor shouted, "We're almost there."

We emerged in a different dimension, a realm untouched by the sharknado's wrath. The Canadian National Tower was replaced with an expansive, azure-colored landscape, a celestial, tranquil haven.

"We're safe," I breathed, "Thanks to you, Doctor."

"No, you've shown courage, Aria," the Time Lord replied, "You've faced the unimaginable with grace and strength."

"But we can't leave the city to fate," I protested, "We need to help them."

"I'll be back," the Doctor promised, "I'll stop the sharknado from spreading. You and the Terminator, go warn the people."

"Thank you," I whispered, "I owe a debt of gratitude."

"The future will repay it," the Time Lord said, "Remember, sometimes, the most significant battles are fought with courage and determination."

"I will," I pledged, "We'll do this."

"Let's go," the Terminator stated, "I'll escort you."

I took a deep breath, my heart racing, and the three of us, a peculiar trio, emerged from the portal, ready to face the sharknado's fury.

"To save the innocent," I vowed, "And the city I've always loved."

The sharks' ferocity intensified. The Canadian National Tower's restaurant's remains crumbled, a silent witness to the heroism that unfolded within its hallowed walls.

"The Sharknado of the Canadian National Tower," the world would someday recount, "The day a young girl, a Time Lord, and a Terminator, defied the odds, and the impossible, to save a city."

"And they lived to tell the tale," the legend would say, "Of a sharknado, a bond forged through courage, and the indomitable spirit of the human spirit."

---

<B>

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...

</B>

(temp: .8, Rep pen: 1.05, Q4km, Alpaca) 

 My heart thudded in my chest like a panicked drummer, time seeming to slow in that dreadful moment. I clung to the metal frame of the broken window, my fingers digging into the cold, unyielding metal, as glass shards danced around us like an ominous ballet of doom. The skyscraper's sway intensified, a beast awakened from its slumber, as the once-pristine windows shattered and rained down like jagged snowflakes onto the streets below.

The thought of the hundreds of people trapped in the building's labyrinth of concrete and steel haunted me, a ghastly echo of my own inevitable fate. I was alone now, the only witness to this nightmare unfolding. The once-vibrant city outside was now a swirling whirlwind of chaos and destruction, the familiar landmarks distorted, twisted, and corrupted by the hand of an unseen malevolence.

My mind frantically raced through options, desperately seeking a way out. I knew the escape ladders were meant to lower from the ceiling, but now they were nowhere in sight. The emergency lights flickered on and off, casting eerie shadows across the shattered glass and twisted metal of the office's interior. A piercing scream echoed through the building as a nearby column buckled and fell, crashing into the floor below with a thunderous impact.

The smell of smoke permeated the air, suffocating and acrid, reminding me that time was running out. My mind reeled with the overwhelming sense of panic, knowing I had no choice but to face the unimaginable, to confront the abyss staring back at me from the gaping hole where the window once stood.

I took a deep breath, steeled myself against the fear, and leaped out into nothingness.

The fall seemed to stretch on forever, a descent into the heart of darkness itself. The city below was a macabre tapestry of destruction, a living canvas of terror. The skyscraper's shadow stretched like an enormous, hungry tentacle, reaching out to swallow everything in its path.

As I plummeted towards the ground, time seemed to slow even further, every moment stretching into a single, elasticated breath. I could see the details of each shattered window, each piece of broken glass shimmering like the shards of broken dreams and shattered hopes.

My body hurtled towards the earth with the speed of an arrow, a divine missile aimed at certain death. I could feel the wind whipping past my face, its cold, abrasive touch a stark reminder of the impending doom. The city below was an abattoir of concrete and steel, its twisted silhouette a grim reminder that no place was truly safe from the wrath of fate.

The ground loomed closer, and in a moment of pure instinct, I thrust out my arms, my fingers spread wide, prepared to brace myself for the impact.

The moment of collision was a violent, unholy baptism, a cataclysmic meeting of man and earth. I felt the earth's embrace, the impact of the concrete surface crushing my body like an insect beneath an unrelenting boot. I was engulfed by the darkness, swallowed by the void, my consciousness slipping away like a river into the depths of oblivion.

I woke to a world bathed in the eerie glow of broken streetlights and the lingering afterglow of explosions, a hellscape of twisted metal and shattered glass. My vision blurred, a veil of smoke and dust shrouding the reality around me. I coughed up a mixture of concrete dust and blood, my throat raw and hoarse from the journey through the abyss.

My eyes adjusted slowly, revealing a landscape of desolation. The city was in ruins, the skyscrapers' skeleton frames like the broken limbs of a once-majestic giant, now reduced to an unrecognizable shell of its former grandeur. I could see the crushed remnants of cars and buses, their twisted metal shells littering the streets like discarded toys of a cruel child's game.

The silence was eerie, the absence of any sound except for the faint tick-tocking of a distant clock, a haunting reminder of time passing, unconcerned by the chaos unfolding around us. I crawled through the debris, my hands grazing the cold, lifeless bodies of those who had failed to escape the wrath that had descended upon the city.

As I crawled onward, I noticed a faint glimmer of light in the distance, like a beacon calling me forward. It was all I had to guide me through the labyrinth of destruction. I clung to hope as my battered body struggled against the weight of despair and the overwhelming sense of hopelessness that surrounded us all.

I crawled on, through the chaos and the devastation, driven by the faint hope that there might be a chance for survival, for a respite from the nightmare that had swallowed the city whole.

As I neared the source of the light, I could see the outline of an abandoned building, its windows shattered and its façade cracked like the shell of a broken egg. I crawled closer, my heart pounding in rhythm with the relentless tick-tock of the distant clock, the only reminder of time's cruel march towards our inevitable fate.

I found a makeshift door, half-buried under a pile of debris. With trembling hands, I pushed aside the rubble, revealing a small, dimly lit entrance into the unknown. I crawled into the darkness, my heart heavy with the weight of the fallen city's soul, as the world outside continued to crumble into nothingness.

My journey through the labyrinth of the abandoned building was an odyssey into the depths of despair and survival, a stark reminder of the fragility of life and the relentless march towards the inevitable embrace of death. The skyscraper's swaying silhouette faded into the distance, leaving behind a chilling echo of a once-thriving metropolis, now nothing more than a tombstone for the dreams that had once shimmered in its windows.

The end was nigh, but so too was the beginning of a new chapter in this tragic tale of survival, as the skyscraper's shadow cast a final, haunting silhouette on the crumbling ruins of a city left to its fate.