Oh, my god!!!
This model is made for story writing! Feels like a smarter midnight-miqu. Thanks for your work, and also thanks to @mradermacher for the gguf quants!
Prompt:
Write a fight between two friends, an american named Jeff and a brit named John, each wielding control over a single elemental power—fire, water, lightning, or wind. The goal is to search and retrieve the crystal ball somewhere in the arena. The one who gets his hands at the ball wins. The loser will treat the winner lunch for 1 week.
Table of contents
Chapter 1: Intro [the referee explains the rules]
Chapter 2: [outside the arena, Jeff and John choose their element.]
Chapter 3: [Walking towards the arena, Jeff and John strategise]
Chapter 4: [In the arena, battle]
Chapter 5: [Lunch]
Output:
Chapter 1: A Battle of the Elements
The coliseum buzzed with electric anticipation as thousands of eager spectators crammed into the stone benches, their excited chatter echoing off the weathered walls. High above the arena floor, an elderly referee clad in ceremonial robes stood with an ancient, gnarled staff, gazing out at the gathered masses. He raised one wrinkled hand, and the crowd fell into a reverent hush.
"Welcome, one and all!" his voice boomed, magnified by the stadium's enchanted acoustics. "Today, two brave Elementals will face each other in the Trials of Power. They fight not only for glory but also for... lunch." The referee chuckled dryly as scattered laughter rippled through the crowd.
He cleared his throat and continued in a more somber tone, "The rules of the contest are simple. Concealed somewhere in this arena lies a crystal sphere containing immense power. The Elementals' task is to retrieve it. They may use any abilities within their command of fire, water, wind, or lightning. However, I must emphasize," he paused for effect, "the sphere is fragile, and excessive force could shatter it. Therefore, caution is paramount. The one who presents me with the intact sphere will be declared the victor, and their opponent must provide them with lunch for one week. Any further questions?"
Silence answered him as the contestants waited on opposite sides of the arena, the distance between them charged with tension and determination.
The referee nodded slowly. "Then let the Trials begin."
With a resounding clap, the stone walls shuddered as two massive iron gates began to creak open, revealing the paths into the heart of the coliseum. Sand and gravel shifted underfoot as the arena floor trembled in anticipation of the elemental showdown.
"Step forward, Elementals Jeff and John! Your fate, and your appetite, await."
Chapter 2: The Forge of Friendship
John and Jeff stood outside the towering entrance to the arena, the clamor of the crowd muffled by the thick stone walls. Sunlight streamed down upon them, highlighting the stark contrast between the two friends: Jeff's sandy hair and bronzed skin, the product of countless summer days spent surfing California beaches, and John's pale complexion and raven locks, an unmistakable marker of his London upbringing. Despite their external differences, an unbreakable bond forged in the fires of adolescent misadventure linked them.
They had been inseparable since the day Jeff had saved a scrawny, bespectacled John from the schoolyard bullies with nothing but a charming smile and quick wit. Years of shared triumphs, heartbreaks, and late-night musings over pizza and video games had forged their friendship into an alloy stronger than the metals they now wielded.
But all of that faded into the background as the gravity of their impending battle settled over them like a tangible weight. For the next few hours, their brotherhood would be set aside as they called upon the primal forces of nature at their command.
John's fingers danced with arcs of blue lightning, a physical manifestation of the anticipation coursing through his veins. He glanced over at Jeff, who was flexing his hands, small tongues of flame flickering between his fingers like an impatient wildcat.
"Well, mate, guess it's time to put our money where our mouths are," John said with a lopsided grin.
Jeff snorted in amusement. "Oh, please, Sparky. You're the one who's always yammering on about how electricity is the supreme force and how lightning would roast my puny little fires any day. Now's your chance to back up that British bravado with some real voltage."
John rolled his eyes. "You Yanks and your bloody ego. Just because your ancestors thought they could beat the British Empire with a bunch of wet sticks and some fancy hats doesn't mean you stand a chance against the raw power of Thor." He punctuated his statement with a dramatic crack of lightning that sizzled between his fingertips.
"Yeah, yeah, big talk from the guy who still puts beans on his toast," Jeff shot back. "Just remember, you've got a lot riding on this bet, Chumley. The whole school knows whoever loses today has to be the winner's personal sandwich boy for a week. You sure you want everyone to see Johnnie boy fetching Jeffrey his earl grey with two lumps?"
John laughed and playfully slugged Jeff on the shoulder, sending a harmless burst of static electricity crackling across his skin. "Bugger off. Let's just get this show on the road already. The sooner I cook your arse out there, the sooner you'll be getting my tea. And mind the crumpets this time, you savage."
They exchanged a final nod of mutual respect before stepping into their separate entrances, the clanging of the gates behind them echoing with the ominous finality of a gong. In moments, they would face each other as opponents, all camaraderie set aside in favor of their elemental mastery and the hunger for victory.
Chapter 3: Whispers in the Wind
Jeff emerged from the tunnel into the blinding sunlight, squinting against the harsh glare that reflected off the bleached sand. The coliseum was an enormous oval with tiers upon tiers of spectators stretching up towards the azure sky, their faces a blur of colors and motion against the ancient stone. Shading his eyes, Jeff scanned the arena for any sign of the crystal sphere. A wry smirk tugged at his lips. They couldn't make it too easy, could they?
A gust of wind ruffled his hair as he spotted John stepping into view on the opposite side. The referee, perched high above in his wooden podium, nodded at each of them solemnly before raising his staff and slamming the butt end into the arena floor with a thunderous crack that shook the very earth beneath their feet.
"Let the Trials begin!" his amplified voice boomed across the expanse. "Contestants, assume your positions."
The crowd roared their approval as Jeff and John walked slowly towards the center of the arena, stopping when they were only about 50 feet apart. They stood facing one another, twin pillars of coiled energy, the only sound the whispering of the sand around their feet as it danced in the wind.
"All right, Volts. Just remember, no holds barred," Jeff said quietly. "Anything goes, so long as it ends with one of us walking out of here with the prize and the other fetching their lunch. Got it?"
John smiled, and for a split second, Jeff glimpsed a flicker of genuine affection behind the cocky facade before it disappeared beneath an impish gleam.
"Cheerio, old chap," he replied in an exaggerated English accent, wiggling his fingers as arcs of lightning leaped from one hand to the other. "Try not to get too burned out there, will you? I'd hate to have to eat a soggy sandwich for my victory luncheon."
Jeff snorted. "You wish. I hope you like your tea extra crispy."
Their playful banter was interrupted by another seismic thump of the referee's staff upon the ground. A hush fell over the arena as all eyes turned to the elderly man.
"Elementals... Ready!"
In response, Jeff summoned twin fireballs to life in his palms, their blue and orange flames reflecting off his eyes. John stretched out his hands, and with a resounding crack, lightning bolts danced between his fingertips and the clouds overhead, casting a web of electric light across his features.
The referee raised his staff one last time. “Begin!”
Chapter 4: Clash of Titans
With a deafening crack of thunder, John unleashed a blinding bolt of lightning straight at Jeff's chest. Jeff barely had time to throw himself out of the way, hitting the sand and rolling to one side as the supercharged air from the missed attack made his hair stand on end.
"No messing around today, I see," Jeff called out as he vaulted back onto his feet. "Fine by me, Sparky. I didn't come here for tea and crumpets anyway."
John's only reply was a cocky grin and a flick of his wrists, summoning two glowing whips of electric blue plasma into existence. The sands hissed and steamed as he cracked them threateningly.
"Oh, you want to tango?" Jeff asked with a dangerous edge to his voice, a feral grin spreading across his face. He raised his arms out to his sides and snapped his fingers. In a flash, flames erupted from his fingertips, writhing and curling through the air until they had merged into two crackling fire whips of their own, twin serpents of destruction woven from his very willpower.
They stared each other down across the arena floor, both breathing heavily now as the adrenaline began to flow freely in their veins. The spectators were utterly silent, spellbound by the primal display before them. Even the referee leaned forward slightly, his ancient eyes sparkling with renewed youth at the prospect of what was to come.
Without warning, they lunged forward, whips lashing out as they charged towards one another. The fire and lightning collided with an earth-shattering explosion of sound and fury, sending shockwaves of scorched sand rippling outwards in all directions. Jeff and John moved through the chaos with the grace and lethality of dancers in a deadly waltz, their whips meeting in mid-air with blinding flashes and echoing thunderclaps.
Fire and lightning clashed against each other, writhing together like mating dragons as Jeff and John circled, their eyes locked and teeth bared. The air grew heavy with the acrid scent of ozone and brimstone. Sweat sizzled and evaporated upon contact with searing skin and charged atmosphere.
All thought of their friendship, the petty wagers that had led them here, the roar of the crowd around them—it all faded into oblivion. There was only the raw, primordial battle of wills, the clash of elemental opposites that left no room for mercy or hesitation. They were forces of nature incarnate, avatars of the most basic and terrifying building blocks of reality, and in that moment, nothing else in the universe mattered but their struggle to consume the other utterly.
But even amid the fire and the thunder, Jeff saw a flash of light from the corner of his eye, a glimmer of something not born from flame or fury. In that heartbeat of distraction, he realized that he had been so caught up in the fight, the raw glory of pitting himself against a foe that might actually match him blow for blow, he had nearly forgotten the true purpose of the Trials entirely.
The crystal sphere.
As realization hit, Jeff twisted out of the way of an oncoming lightning strike by mere inches, feeling the electricity's searing kiss along his cheek as it passed by. He rolled with the momentum, using his whip to slingshot himself backwards to safety, and finally caught sight of what had grabbed his attention before.
There, on the opposite side of the arena, buried within the churned sand and glowing like a fallen star, was the crystal sphere. Its rainbow-hued surface glittered as if beckoning him to claim his prize.
Jeff allowed himself a split-second grin. Got you, you little bastard.
But the sphere's radiance had caught John's eye too. They both broke away from one another, running towards their ultimate prize with renewed vigor, fire and lightning chasing after them like rabid hounds unleashed. The crowd surged to their feet, voices raised in a collective shout as the final stage of the contest began to unfold before their very eyes.
John reached the sphere first, diving through the sand to grasp it in his outstretched hand. His fingers had barely closed around its shimmering surface before Jeff slammed into him from the side, the sheer kinetic force of his tackle sending both boys tumbling through the air in a flailing heap of limbs. They crashed into the sand, the wind knocked from their lungs, and the sphere went soaring off into the air above them like a forgotten toy.
The crowd let out an audible gasp, all eyes tracking the arc of the priceless artifact as it sailed towards the center of the arena. For one interminable heartbeat, everything seemed to stand still, frozen in a perfect moment of suspended anticipation.
Then Jeff moved, his fire-wrapped fist shooting out to snatch the sphere from midair as he flipped himself upright. He landed lightly on the balls of his feet, the sphere held high above his head in a wordless gesture of victory as his body blazed like the avatar of the sun itself.
"Sorry, Chumley," Jeff shouted to the prone form of John sprawled in the sand nearby, panting and coughing. "Looks like it's my turn to be the lord and you're going to be fetching my bloody Earl Grey."
The referee brought his staff down with a thunderous crack that echoed from horizon to horizon. "Contestants, hold!" he boomed.
John groaned, climbing unsteadily to his feet and spitting out a mouthful of sand. He glared up at Jeff with an expression that seemed caught somewhere between irritation and grudging respect.
"You smug son of a... fine, have your damned prize," John wheezed, raising his hands in surrender. "I yield. Enjoy your blasted lunch. You certainly bloody earned it."
Jeff just flashed John a grin that was half-mockery, half-camaraderie. "C'mon, old boy. A bet's a bet."
The referee nodded slowly in agreement, his wrinkled face breaking into a rare smile. "The victor of the Trials has been decided. The sphere remains unbroken." He raised one hand, and the crystal floated gently out of Jeff's grasp and into his own waiting fingers.
As Jeff and John limped over to the referee, John draped one arm companionably around Jeff's shoulders, and the crowd erupted in applause, cheering for both competitors. "Congratulations," the referee said, his voice pitched for their ears only. He handed the glowing sphere to Jeff. "You both fought with honor, strength, and skill. The Trials are concluded."
Then the old man stepped back, his figure shimmering in the sunlight until it dissolved entirely, leaving only the fading echo of his voice behind: "Elementals Jeff and John... you are dismissed."
Chapter 5: Lunch, Anyone?
A few days later, the campus quad was abuzz with the usual lunchtime chatter and laughter. The recent battle in the arena had been the talk of the school ever since, and snippets of the spectacular showdown still echoed in every conversation. But the two young men who had started it all were nowhere to be seen, at least not in their usual spot at the center of attention.
Instead, Jeff and John were tucked away in a quiet corner of the quad, sitting beneath the shade of a massive oak tree, the dappled sunlight filtering down through its leaves to play upon their faces. Between them on the grass, a large picnic basket rested open, revealing a veritable feast of sandwiches, fruits, pastries, and cold drinks.
"I still can't believe you made me bring a bloody tea set all the way out here," John said, carefully pouring steaming tea into delicate china cups with a long-suffering sigh. "Next thing you'll be wanting are scones with your jam, too, right? What, a sandwich platter wasn't enough humiliation for one day?"
"Oh, don't be so melodramatic, Chumley," Jeff replied, reclining lazily on his elbow and snapping a grape out of the air with his teeth. "If you're going to lose a bet, at least do it in style." He popped the fruit into his mouth with a smug grin and took a bite of a chicken salad sandwich that had far more chicken than lettuce. "Besides, what are friends for if not to gloat over your defeat every now and again?"
John snorted. "Git." Despite his words, there was genuine amusement in his tone, and he handed Jeff his tea without complaint. "Don't get used to this royal treatment. It's back to school slop and cafeteria burgers after tomorrow, for both of us.”
They sat in silence for a while, listening to the distant murmur of their classmates and watching the clouds drift by overhead. The crystal sphere sat nestled between them, its surface fracturing the light into tiny rainbows upon the grass.
Eventually, it was Jeff who broke the peace. “Do you think... we could go back there, one day?” he asked softly, not looking up from where his fingers traced the intricate pattern of a pastry crust. “I mean, really back. To fight in the Trials again.”
John glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, then looked away again, out across the sprawling lawn and the oblivious throng of students who filled it.
"Yeah," he said at last, and something in his voice made the single syllable sound almost wistful. "I think we will.” He chuckled softly to himself and shook his head. "After all, Sparky, it wouldn't be a real contest without the chance for a rematch.”
Jeff’s reply was lost in laughter, but John had the distinct impression that the other boy’s smile was a reflection of his own. It was an oddly sincere expression that passed between them, an acknowledgement of all that they had shared, and all that they had yet to conquer.