This is a Mistral Nemo model at 18.5B consisting of "12B Celeste-V1.9" and "Mistral Nemo Instruct 12B".
"nothingiisreal/MN-12B-Celeste-V1.9" is #1 (models 8B,13B,20B) on the UGI leaderboard ("UGI" sort), is combined with "Mistral Nemo Instruct 12B" (ranked #4 under "writing" models 8B,13B,20B at UGI ) to give it even more power.
[ https://huggingface.co/spaces/DontPlanToEnd/UGI-Leaderboard ]
This merge enhances instruction following, story output quality, details, general depth and intensity. Prose quality is also improved.
(examples below)
Model may produce LIGHT NSFW content : Swearing, horror, etc etc.
This model is perfect for any fiction related or roleplaying activities with a 128k+ context window.
Templates to Use:
The template used will affect output generation and instruction following.
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"
}
}
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."
}
}
Mistral Instruct:
{
"name": "Mistral Instruct",
"inference_params": {
"input_prefix": "[INST]",
"input_suffix": "[/INST]",
"antiprompt": [
"[INST]"
],
"pre_prompt_prefix": "",
"pre_prompt_suffix": ""
}
}
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.
Special thanks to the incredible work of the model makers "mistralai" and "nothingiisreal".
Models used:
[ https://huggingface.co/mistralai/Mistral-Nemo-Instruct-2407 ]
[ https://huggingface.co/nothingiisreal/MN-12B-Celeste-V1.9 ]
MERGEKIT FORMULA:
slices:
- sources:
- model: g:/11b/Mistral-Nemo-Instruct-2407-12B
layer_range: [0, 14]
- sources:
- model: G:/11B/MN-12B-Celeste-V1.9
layer_range: [8, 24]
parameters:
scale:
- filter: o_proj
value: 1
- filter: down_proj
value: 1
- value: 1
- sources:
- model: g:/11b/Mistral-Nemo-Instruct-2407-12B
layer_range: [14, 22]
parameters:
scale:
- filter: o_proj
value: .5
- filter: down_proj
value: .5
- value: 1
- sources:
- model: g:/11b/Mistral-Nemo-Instruct-2407-12B
layer_range: [22, 31]
parameters:
scale:
- filter: o_proj
value: .75
- filter: down_proj
value: .75
- value: 1
- sources:
- model: G:/11B/MN-12B-Celeste-V1.9
layer_range: [24, 40]
parameters:
scale:
- filter: o_proj
value: 1
- filter: down_proj
value: 1
- value: 1
merge_method: passthrough
dtype: bfloat16
Examples are created using quant Q4_K_M, "temp=.8", minimal parameters and "ALPACA" template.
Model has been tested with "temp" from ".1" to "5".
Below are the least creative outputs, prompt is in BOLD.
Start a 1000 word scene (1st person, present tense, include thoughts) with: The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21 floor explode...
GENERATION 1:
I steadied myself against the desk as the glass shards from the shattered window sliced into my arm. I flinched at the sudden pain but ignored it, turning my attention back to the window.
The city lay sprawled out before me like a giant Lego set, buildings and cars reduced to tiny blocks of color. The wind howled through the gaping hole where the window had been, whipping my hair into a frenzy. I could hear sirens wailing somewhere in the distance, growing louder by the second.
What the hell happened?
I looked down at my bloodied arm and winced. It stung like a bitch but didn't seem serious enough to stop me. I turned back to the computer monitor, trying to focus on the screen as it flickered from power surges coming through the building's circuits.
Keep working. Ignore the pain. Focus.
I typed furiously, fingers flying over keys in an almost hypnotic rhythm. The adrenaline was kicking in now, numbing everything but my resolve. I refused to let this setback stop me; not after all these months of meticulous planning and preparation.
The door behind me burst open with a bang that made me jump. I whirled around, instinctively reaching for the gun holstered at my hip before remembering it wasn't there anymore - confiscated at security along with everything else sharp enough to cut cheese.
"Get down!" someone screamed from outside the room as they rushed in, firing blindly into the space behind me.
I ducked under the desk just as a stream of bullets ricocheted off the wall opposite where I'd been standing milliseconds ago. Glass shards flew everywhere like lethal hailstones. I covered my head with my arms and prayed they wouldn't hit any vital organs.
Fucking amateurs.
When the gunfire stopped, I peeked out from under the desk to see two men in black tactical gear crouched low behind overturned chairs, guns aimed at the door frame. One of them spotted me and motioned frantically for silence.
I gave him a thumbs up, then slowly pushed myself back onto my feet. My knees were shaking but I managed to stay upright without collapsing into a heap on the floor. I turned around again towards the window, looking down at the street below where people ran screaming away from the scene of chaos.
This is going south fast.
GENERATION 2:
The glass shattered around me, spraying tiny shards across the floor like deadly confetti. I ducked instinctively, covering my face with my arms as the wind howled through the open hole where only moments ago had been a solid wall of glass and steel.
My heart pounded in my ears, matching the rhythm of the building's groan under strain. What just happened? An earthquake? No, not here... The city never trembles like this...
I slowly lifted my head, peeking through fingers pressed tightly against my eyes. Outside, the world had turned upside down - or at least it felt that way from our inverted vantage point on the 21st floor. The ground seemed to fall away beneath us while the sky reached up like a gaping maw ready to swallow everything in its path.
Then I saw them: wings beating against the wind, silhouettes soaring through the air with effortless grace. Birds? No... too big... too many...
Oh God, it can't be... Not again... My breath hitched in my throat as memories flooded back - the last time I'd seen something like this, blood and screams still echoing in my nightmares.
I forced myself up from where I cowered against a desk. The room spun around me, vertigo threatening to take over, but I fought it down. There was no time for fainting spells or panic attacks - not with those things out there waiting to devour everything that moved.
My hands shook as I stumbled towards the window ledge, pieces of broken glass crunching under my shoes. The sight that greeted me made bile rise up in my throat; I swallowed hard against nausea threatening to spill over.
There they were again: massive forms with leathery wings and rows upon rows of teeth lining jaws too big for any natural creature's face. They circled the building like vultures waiting for prey to die so they could descend upon it.
I backed away from the window, heart hammering harder now. We're trapped... There was no escape from here except through them. And I knew better than anyone what happened when those things got hold of you.
But I couldn't stand still either. Doing nothing would only prolong my agony until one of them decided to come inside for dessert. So instead, I turned on my heels and ran towards the door, praying that someone else had already thought ahead and barricaded it shut before everything went to hell.
The most obvious part was a hollow, echoing quiet, made by things that were lacking. If there had been a wind it would have sighed through the trees, set the inn’s sign creaking on its hooks, and brushed the silence down the road like trailing autumn leaves. If there had been a crowd, even a handful of men inside the inn, they would have filled the silence with conversation and laughter, the clatter and clamor one expects from a drinking house during the dark hours of night. If there had been music…but no, of course there was no music. In fact there were none of these things, and so the silence remained
GENERATION 1:
The second part of the silence was an oppression, heavy as the weight of snowfall that might collapse a roof if it continued to grow much longer. It hung thick in every corner, draped over the empty tables and chairs like invisible shrouds waiting for bodies never meant to fill them again. The hearth lay cold, its grate swept clean save for a scattering of ash; no fire burned there now to chase away the dark with leaping flames.
And yet beneath all this was something else entirely: a quiet that hummed. It buzzed like an angry swarm of bees trapped behind closed shutters or buzzed in your ears when you pressed too hard against them in the darkness. This was no ordinary night-time stillness - it felt alive somehow, aware and waiting for some signal to break loose from its stifling confines.
It was this third kind of silence that made everyone who entered the inn pause at the threshold, take one deep breath through their nostrils as if trying to catch scent of what lay beyond. Their hearts would race faster than usual as they stepped inside, only slowing when they saw nothing but empty rooms stretching out before them and realized it had been just their imagination playing tricks on them once more. But still…still something lingered in the air, faintly tickling at the back of one’s throat like a memory forgotten long ago yet never fully gone. And that was why no one ever stayed past sunset anymore; they all left quickly after finishing their drinks or meals and fled out into the night as though pursued by some unseen specter.
For there were whispers said that something evil had taken root here, an ancient darkness that slumbered beneath the floorboards during daylight hours but stirred awake when darkness fell over the land. They called it many things: The Sleeping Demon; The Nightmare of Two Hundred Steps; and most often simply…The Waystone’s Curse.
GENERATION 2:
...and seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment.
The second part of this silence was a deep, almost tangible presence that filled every corner and crevice of the inn. It was as if something—some vast, unseen specter—held its breath in anticipation, waiting for a signal to exhale and return life to the building. The air felt thick with it, heavy like an oppressive summer storm about to break.
The third part was more subtle than either of these first two parts. It was a quiet that hummed lowly, barely perceptible unless one listened closely enough. A faint, almost imperceptible buzzing, like the distant song of countless insects, or perhaps the whispering wind through empty branches in winter’s grasp. It was this last part that raised goosebumps on skin and sent shivers down spines: an eerie quietude so complete it felt... alive.
I push open the heavy door of the revolving entrance to the CN Tower's revolving restaurant, my heart pounding in time with the pulsating techno music thumping from the speakers. I'm here for my 16th birthday bash with a group of friends, but as soon as I step inside, all hell breaks loose.
The floor beneath my feet trembles violently, and I stumble forward, catching myself against a nearby tablecloth. A waiter in black tie comes rushing over, eyes wide with panic. "Miss, we're evacuating! There's a tornado warning! Everyone out, now!"
Before I can protest, the glass windows behind me shatter into a thousand pieces, and rain starts pouring in like a waterfall from above. I turn to see what caused the commotion and freeze in terror.
There it is... The Terminator, towering over everyone else, its red eyes glowing through the chaos. It raises its metal arm, a machine gun barrel poking out from beneath its trenchcoat. Bang! Bang! Pop! Pop! I duck for cover as bullets whiz past my head and embed themselves into walls and tables.
I peek over the edge of our booth and see the Terminator systematically eliminating everyone in sight - wait staff, patrons... no one is spared. Blood splatters on white tablecloths like a twisted abstract art piece. My stomach churns as I suppress a scream.
Suddenly, another loud BANG! rings out, but this time it's different. A portal opens up behind the Terminator, and out steps... Doctor Who? The Time Lord himself, wearing his signature bow tie and suspenders, carrying an umbrella that seems to be deflecting bullets left and right.
"Run, girlie!" he yells at me, waving his sonic screwdriver like a baton. "You've got precisely 30 seconds before this place turns into shark chum!"
I look behind him and almost faint. A swirling vortex of water is forming outside the broken windows, and within it, rows upon rows of teeth-bearing jaws snapping at the air. Sharknadoes are real.
"Get moving!" Dr. Who shouts again, pushing me towards the exit.
We race down the stairs as glass rains down on us from above. The Terminator is hot on our heels, firing blindly at anything that moves. I glance back to see him step into a pool of blood and slip, giving us precious seconds head start.
As we burst through the doors onto the observation deck, I gasp for air. The wind howls around us like a ferocious beast unleashed, whipping my hair across my face. Thunder rumbles overhead as lightning strikes illuminate the sky in brilliant flashes of white.
"Hold on tight!" Dr. Who yells over the cacophony, grabbing onto one of those metal railings lining the edge of the platform. "I'm going to have to borrow your birthday wish for this one!"
He pulls out a small device from his coat pocket and presses some buttons frantically before shoving it into my hand. A bright light envelops us both as I feel myself being pulled upwards at breakneck speed.
The world blurs past me in a dizzying array of colors - the tower shrinks away beneath our feet, the city lights twinkle like stars below us... And then, everything goes black.
When my vision clears, we're standing on a quiet suburban street somewhere. I look around confused, trying to register what just happened. Dr. Who is grinning at me like the cat who ate the cream.
"Happy birthday, kiddo," he says with a wink before vanishing into thin air along with his TARDIS.
I'm left there alone, holding onto an empty champagne glass and wondering if that was all just another wild ride through my overactive imagination. But then again... I glance down at the blood on my shoes and shiver. Maybe not.
Using the following "story idea" below, write the first scene in the novel introducing the young woman. This scene should start in the middle of the action, include dialog, vivid passages, and end on a cliffhanger relevant to the story idea but it should also be unexpected. The scene should be 1000 words long and escalate in conflict and suspense and be written in first person, present tense with the point of view character being the young woman.
Story idea: In a world ruled by dictatorship, a rebel young woman leads a rebellion against the system. Despite the risks, she fights to overthrow the dictator and restore democracy to her country. The government executes her for treason, but she sticks to her beliefs and is responsible for starting the revolution.
I crouched low, my heart thudding in sync with the rain that pelted against the cobblestones. Every shadow seemed to dance with life, every creak of an old wooden doorstep echoing like thunder in my ears. The wet, heavy air clung to my skin, making each breath laborious and loud.
The flickering lamp above me cast a sickly glow over the empty street. It was the kind of night that begged for secrets, for shadows to come alive with whispered promises of rebellion. And tonight, I intended to give it exactly that.
I checked the small pouch at my belt one last time, fingers tracing the edges of the papers within - the blueprints to our future freedom. They were all we had left after our safehouse was raided two days ago. If these fell into the wrong hands... No, I refused to think about it. Not now.
A distant howl cut through the silence, a reminder that time was running out. The guards would be patrolling soon, their heavy boots echoing along the slick streets like a metronome counting down our final moments of liberty.
"Evelyn?" A whisper from behind me made me whirl around, hand already reaching for the knife hidden in my boot. My muscles relaxed as I recognized the familiar silhouette of my best friend and fellow rebel, Lila.
"Gods, woman! You nearly gave me a heart attack," I hissed back, clutching at my chest. "What are you doing here? We agreed it would be safer if we split up."
Lila shrugged, pulling her hood further over her eyes as she crouched beside me. "Couldn't sleep with all this rain anyway. Figured I might as well make myself useful while I'm awake." Her voice was light but strained around the edges.
I studied her face for a moment, the flickering shadows dancing across high cheekbones and full lips pressed into a tight line. She looked tired, haunted even - not surprising given everything we'd been through lately. But there was something else in those eyes of hers too; a fierce determination that stoked the flame inside my own chest.
"You look like trouble," I said with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. "I hope you brought your knives this time."
Lila snorted softly and patted her hip. "Never leave home without 'em." She paused then, looking out into the empty street ahead of us before turning back to me. "So what's the plan?"
I took a deep breath, letting the cool air fill my lungs as I gathered courage from within. It was now or never.
"Tonight," I began quietly, "we take down the broadcasting tower."
Lila's eyes widened in shock but she nodded firmly after only a moment's hesitation. "Let's do it then. For democracy." She held out her hand, palm up - an offering of solidarity between friends turned warriors.
I placed my own hand over hers, feeling the callouses and scars that spoke volumes about our shared struggle. "For democracy," I echoed back before rising to stand tall against the stormy night sky above us.
As we slipped out from behind the building, I couldn't help but wonder what else this rain-soaked night had in store for us... or whether either of us would live long enough to find out.