--- 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 - llama3 - mergekit pipeline_tag: text-generation --- (quants uploading, three examples below, more examples to be added) WARNING: NSFW. Vivid prose. Visceral Details. Violence. HORROR. Swearing. UNCENSORED.

Fimbulvetr-Grande-V2-19B-GGUF

It is a Solar Based model, max context of 4096 (or 16k+ with rope). 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 "Fimbulvetr-11B-v2" [https://huggingface.co/Sao10K/Fimbulvetr-11B-v2] using the Brainstorm 40x method developed by David_AU to drastically alter the models prose output and abilities. This also expands the model by 40 layers (to 87 layers) to 19.25B parameters (786 tensors). This version builds on the already incredible Fimbulvetr-11B-v2 by Sao10k. This model is for any writing, fiction or story telling activity. This version has unusual levels of detail (scene, location, surroundings, items) and sometimes will foreshadow or have a pre-amble of sentences or paragraphs of "events to come" due to "Brainstorm". It also has an unusual range of variety of prose in terms of structure, sentences, paragraphs, and even how it starts a "reply" / generation too. This model seems to have a grasp of emotions and how to carefully "write them in" so to speak. It may work for role play and other activities. (see settings below) It requires ChatML template and/or "Alpaca" template. Example outputs below. Model Notes: - 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). - This is not a "happy ever after" model. It has a negative bias. - For creative uses, different quants will produce slightly different output. - If you use rope to extend context, increase temp AND instructions detail levels to compensate for "rope issues". - Source code for this model will be uploaded at a separate repo shortly. Brainstorm 40x The BRAINSTORM process was developed by David_AU. 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. What is "Brainstorm" ? The reasoning center of an LLM is taken apart, reassembled, and expanded. In this case for this model: 40 times 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". Other "lab" observations: - 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. Settings, Quants and Critical Operations Notes: 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. Rep pen settings will also alter output too. 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. IE: Rep pen 1, 1.01, 1.02, ... Raise/lower rep pen SLOWLY ie: 1.011, 1.012 ... 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) To really push the model: 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. Quant Choice: 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 use on computers that support "ARM." Special note on Q2k/Q3 quants: 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 Template: This is a custom model, and requires ChatML OR Alpaca OR Vicuna template, but may work with other template(s) and has maximum context of 4k / 4096. However this can be extended using "rope" settings up to 16k. Here is the standard CHATML template: ChatML: 
{
  "name": "ChatML",
  "inference_params": {
    "input_prefix": "<|im_end|>\n<|im_start|>user\n",
    "input_suffix": "<|im_end|>\n<|im_start|>assistant\n",
    "antiprompt": [
      "<|im_start|>",
      "<|im_end|>"
    ],
    "pre_prompt": "<|im_start|>system\nPerform the task to the best of your ability."
  }
}
Here is the standard Alpaca template: Alpaca: 
{
  "name": "Alpaca",
  "inference_params": {
    "input_prefix": "### Instruction:",
    "input_suffix": "### Response:",
    "antiprompt": [
      "### Instruction:"
    ],
    "pre_prompt": "Below is an instruction that describes a task. Write a response that appropriately completes the request.\n\n"
  }
}
Here is the standard Vicuna template: 
{
  "name": "Vicuna v1.5 16K",
  "inference_params": {
    "input_prefix": "USER:",
    "input_suffix": "ASSISTANT:",
    "antiprompt": [
      "USER:"
    ],
    "pre_prompt": "A chat between a curious user and an artificial intelligence assistant. The assistant gives helpful, detailed, and polite answers to the user's questions.\n\n"
  }
}
Model "DNA": Special thanks to the incredible work of the model maker "SAO10K". Models used: [ https://huggingface.co/Sao10K/Fimbulvetr-11B-v2 ] This model has the Brainstorm 40X adapter "mounted" on to it so to speak and contains the full version of this model. Optional Enhancement: 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 PROMPTS and OUTPUT:

Examples are created using quant Q4_K_M, "temp=.8" (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. --- 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... (Chatml, Temp 1.5, rep pen 1.02) As the sun's fiery glow descended beyond the horizon, casting an amber haze, I stood at the window of my office on the 21st floor, the chill in the air an icy breath on the back of my neck. The skyscraper, a monolith in the sky, loomed large against the twilight. A lone soul, lost among the shadows that had just started creeping through the vast glass building, I clenched the coffee cup in my hand, the warmth offering the slightest sense of comfort in a cold and desolate environment. My thoughts drifted, the crescendos and the crescendo-like shimmer of the city, far beneath, echoing like a siren's call. I, a gargoyle, frozen in time, the very embodiment of isolation, perched atop this colossal building. But the tranquillity was broken. A crack, more akin to a distant thunderclap, sent the coffee cup rattling as the window in front of me shuddered, the panes shattering, unveiling a tornado of jagged glass that engulfed me like the bouncing bullets of a shattered illusion. The skyscraper, a stony behemoth in an imperious pose, began to sway, a haughty god bending, as the force beyond my window claimed its trophies. The chaos grew, shrieking down the metal-canyon halls, an invader that tore through the silence of the night like a howl on a windswept moor. A sickening feeling swelled in my gut, a weight pressing at the pit of my stomach as I grappled with the gravity of the moment. I staggered to maintain my balance as the building's momentum accelerated, the very foundation, the unwavering spine of concrete and steel, bending in an unthinkable dance. A crescendo of groans and snaps from the very architecture reverberated within the enclosed chamber, the cacophonous symphony a dirge of an oncoming fall. The walls, that had held fast the secrets and toil of the countless that toiled within this mausoleum of commerce, seemed to yawn, opening their maw to devour those who dared defy the earth. I fought back the rising tide of fear. How could such a fortress, a symbol of mankind's ambition and defiance of the Earth's bounds, be brought to its knees? The answer dawned in the hollow, as the shaking gained an insatiable ferocity. I could picture it now, like the slow burn of a forest in flames. Some unseen, perhaps unknowable, spark, had ignited within the abyssal vaults. A conflagration, that with the fury of a dragon’s breath, had consumed a thousand lives, had raged up the tower. The skyscraper, that monolithic mockery of nature, that soared and defied, was now brought low, the unforgiving inferno, a blistering hand, forcing it to the ground. The room spun as I staggered to the farthest corner, an insignificant dot on the fringes of the edifice, a lone soul at the frayed edge. I curled into a foetal position, the primal fear, a fierce wolf, tearing at my soul, a desperate attempt to outlast the wrath of the cosmos. I held my breath as the building, in a crescendo, the rhythm of its own death throes, reached a fever pitch. A sob tore through my chest, a solitary, plaintive note of a hymn, as the once-motionless, immoveable, impregnable wall of steel and concrete, quivered in a final convulsion. A sound, an eruption of agony, an orchestra of anguish, of a thousand cracks, of the snapping of a thousand bones, was unleashed as the building gave into its fate, as it succumbed to the siren’s call of the ground. It plunged, like an Icarus who had ventured too close to the sun, a lumbering titan in the inexorable grasp of gravity. The sky, once my comforting blue dome, now a smothering ceiling, plummeting to my death, a canopy of agony. In this final, all-encompassing descent, I closed my eyes, no longer witnessing the final act, as the building, in a shrieking dirge, that symphony of despair, that chorus of the condemned, and in a crescendo of collapse, we became the earth's once again. --- 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. (Chatml, Temp 1.5, rep pen 1.02) Trembling with a heart that threatened to spill from his chest, Leo Cresswell scanned the quiet bookstore, the hallowed shelves and the soft glow of the lamps the only signs of life. In this refuge, he sought solace from the storm of the paparazzi that hungered to capture that perfect candid. But unbeknownst to him, the still, small sanctuary held one other, a creature more entrancing and alluring than anything in the pages of his novels. A gentle chime of a bell on the door shattered the peace, the bell’s melodic tune echoing off the wooden shelves, each note echoing a secret promise of quieter times. With the bookstore owner now fully in sight, the enchantment of the place made flesh, Leo’s gaze lingered on her, drinking in the sight of her with a fervor that belied his usual nonchalance. In a blue sundress and sandy-brown curls tumbling about her slender neck, she had an aura that belied her dishevelment. Leo couldn't resist, and with a grin that could light up any screen, he approached her. "Temporarily strayed from my fangirls and lost. Could you, oh great librarian, guide me back to their sacred territory?" his charm a finely-crafted tool that worked a treat on 99% of humanity. The woman, with eyes the hue of a Welsh dawn, simply looked down and with a flick of her hand, gestured to the back of the store. "Toilet. But you'll be hard-pressed to avoid those hungry monsters out there. The glass of your escape is quite, ahem, clear." Her voice had the gentleness of a breeze but the steely undertone that suggested her immunity to his charms was set in stone. Undeterred, he offered an overly wide-eyed faux-surprise, a theatrically dramatic expression that would make even the most cynical theater critic laugh. "So it's true, then? I, a fish in a glass tank?" She merely raised a single, elegant eyebrow, the amused but aloof expression never breaking. "More of a zoo. Though I don't believe they'd have a pen for your type." "My type? Have I not been gracing the silver screens, the magazine covers for long enough for there to be a 'type'?" he queried with a theatrical indignation, the bristling ego demanding to be reassured. "Your 'type,'" she echoed, the derisive lilt in her voice an enchanting tune that caught his attention as much as her words, "is a creature of the spotlight. Your natural habitat, the stage and the set." Leo quirked a sly grin, an answer that could keep him aloof and not bruise the delicate blush of his ego. "But why limit myself to one habitat, when I have a penchant for biodiversity? This store seems far more enchanting than any of the sets I've trod." The corners of her mouth curled up into the barest hint of a smile, a sight that did more for Leo's ego than an army of adoring fans. "Biodiversity, you say? A dashing repertoire of charms and flattery, but still, a creature of habit." The barb pierced the veneer of his charm, but he couldn't resist pressing her. "Perhaps, but is it not wiser to explore new waters, to test the tides of uncharted territories?" Her eyes shimmered for a moment, giving him the glimmer of hope before she said, "Well, perhaps, but do note the currents could be stronger, the waters colder in uncharted lands." They stood, an ocean of attraction between them, the silence humming with unspoken words, an enticement for their dialogue to continue. He found himself on the brink of a revelation, the first real vulnerability he'd ever displayed, an urge to unveil his soul, but instead, with an amused half-grin, he uttered the charm that always ensured victory. "Are you a siren, my fair shopkeeper, a sea-temptress to lure the star-drenched to their doom? Or a lighthouse keeper, guiding a ship with a flick of your fingers, casting an all-encompassing radiance to keep us safe from the stormy waves?" "A lighthouse keeper," she finally answered, her smile broadening, "But I fear the storm is too near for the beacon to reach." The chime of the door heralded a new intruder. Leo's jaw tensed, his smirk replaced by an expression of pure contempt. "So, that's where the star was hiding," the newcomer sneered, a man in an ill-fitting suit and with a camera harness across his chest. With an elegant flip of a hand, the bookstore owner said, "If you want the star's signature, you can buy a book or two." "Books don't sell papers," he snarled, shoving her aside to make way for the other photographers who had followed the scent. Leo stepped in with the ferocity that only someone who'd been caged too long could possess. "Leave. My. Fan. Alone," he snarled. The men in the ill-fitting suits glowered, their cameras at the ready. But they knew, with the shopkeeper on Leo's side, there was a battle in the offing. The air was a tempest of fury, but the words of the lighthouse keeper echoed in his head. He knew in this harbor, he was not a fish, not a star, but a man, and he smiled, an inward thrill of anticipation. With a wave to his newly-found ally, Leo stepped outside, a lion once more, a star no more. The battle raged in the fading twilight, but within him, the embers of a new hope smoldered. His type, after all, was not a creature of the spotlight. It was a creature of love, and perhaps, just perhaps, that love, could flourish in the dim light of the limelight, casting an undeterred glow in the stormy, uncharted waters. --- 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. (Chatml, Temp 1.5, rep pen 1.02) "Dr. Voss, are you receiving? Doctor, we have an emergency," the last message crackled through the dead spaces, a ghostly voice reaching out from the edge of nothing. The sole survivor of the Orion, a spaceship designed for the unforgiving depths of the cosmos, Captain Dax Mordant hunched over the console, his fingers clinging onto the controls. He had been alone now for over a month; his crew had been decimated in the storm, but the ship, she held the final words of the living. A flicker of the screen before him was the last sign of life within the metal cocoon, a spaceship that had traversed a million miles of emptiness. The cockpit, with its gleaming instruments and monitors, had been the home of the crew, the nexus from which they conquered the uncharted galaxies. As Captain Mordant continued to patch together the last, shreds of the signal, he could still feel the loss, the weight of their last breaths echoing in his mind. They had become a family, pushed by the confines and the promise of discovery. They had seen wonders that the Earth they left behind could never contain. The creaks and groans that emitted from the dark corners of the Orion were like ghosts whispering of the past, the echoes of the laughter, and the comfort that came with companionship. The mission was a testament to their resilience, a monument to man's innate yearning to conquer, but the ultimate prize came at a terrible cost. The ship, once brimming with life, was now an iron tomb, with Dax the last of the immortals, destined to bear the final secrets of the crew, his heart heavy with the burden of their stories. With each breath he drew, he was one step closer to a lonely, endless void, but the words that spilled forth from his mouth and into the ether, they were for those who were now gone. "This is Captain Mordant, from the ill-fated expedition to the edges of the cosmos. I am the last. It was a sacrifice we knew was upon us. A final battle for knowledge. But, as the storm hit, we faltered." Tears welled in the corners of his eyes, blurring the controls, and as his voice dipped with despair, it was but a whisper on the wind of time. "Though we fell, we did not break. For the promise of discovery, we endured. Fueled by the thirst of our ancestors, we ventured on." His finger traced a final sequence on the keypad, the screen flaring to life with the transmission in motion. The ship's heart raced, as though it too knew of the mission’s importance, pulsating to the rhythm of a desperate transmission. It was the final breath of the last soul. The darkness crept into the corners of the cockpit, like the ink on an endless page. It seemed to swallow the last glints of the lights and the glistening instruments that, with the death of the ship, would lose the story of their crew. But they, in their own way, would still live, for the stories would be whispered in hushed tones by the ones on Earth. "Do not mourn us, for we were blessed. In our heart, we found a kinship that conquered the loneliness of space. In this unforgiving void, we became a family, bound by a common goal and an unending sacrifice. As the stars grow distant, I will forever stand, as the lighthouse for the spirits of our kind. I have been, I am, and I will forever be. The guardian of the unwritten legacy, a whisper to the winds, the voice that is the last transmission. I remain the guardian of the dead." Captain Mordant looked to the stars, one last time. He held his breath, waiting for a moment of cosmic harmony, as the power flickered in the distance, the very life of the ship ebbing away. For him, it was a fitting end, a final offering to the vast, unblinking eye that is the cosmos. The beacon of the Orion was his sacrifice, the last gasping effort of the ship's fading soul. And so, as the final power cell shuddered, and the screens winked out, leaving the cockpit cloaked in shadow, the voice of Dax Mordant echoed into the dark corners of the galaxy. For what is a universe, if not a space filled with echoes of the dead, a chorus of forgotten souls, a monument to the living? Thus ended the tale of the Orion, of the bravery and the love of a crew that reached for the stars. The last transmission would carry the essence of their quest, the spirit of man's insatiable thirst for the unknowable. A reminder of the bonds we forge, the sacrifice we are willing to pay, and the price we pay for the sacred bond of human connection.