L3.1-RP-Hero-InBetween-8B-GGUF

<B><font color="red">WARNING:</font> NSFW. Vivid prose. INTENSE. Visceral Details. Violence. Graphic HORROR. GORE. Swearing. UNCENSORED. </B>

<h2>L3.1-RP-Hero-InBetween-8B-GGUF</h2> <img src="rphero1.jpg" style="float:right; width:300px; height:300px; padding:10px;">

It is a LLama3.1 model, max context of 128k (131,000) and is a dedicated "roleplay model" (it can also be used for creative uses).

This model has been designed to be relatively bullet proof and operates with all parameters, including temp settings from 0 to 5.

It is an extraordinary compressed model, with a very low perplexity level (lower than Meta Llama 3.1 Instruct).

This model is for any writing, fiction or roleplay activity, but it is composed of ROLE PLAY models and it primary designed for role play.

It also has stronger than average instruction following attibutes.

This is version "InBetween", which has two additional versions: "Big Talker" and "Dirty Harry".

Big Talker (longer average output, slightly less censored):

[ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/L3.1-RP-Hero-BigTalker-8B-GGUF ]

Dirty Harry (short output, less censored)

[ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/L3.1-RP-Hero-Dirty_Harry-8B-GGUF ]

"InBetween" has medium level length output, and slightly less uncensored than the other two models.

This model, as well as the other two versions, can be used for any creative genre too.

All versions are composed of top rated Role Play models.

It requires Llama3 template and/or "Command-R" template.

For roleplay settings, and apps to use this model for roleplay see the section "Highest Quality Settings..." below.

Example outputs below to show prose quality / creativity.

<B>Model Notes:</B>

• Detail, prose and fiction writing abilities are significantly improved.
• 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 or higher, 1.02+ recommended.
• 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 model has a neutral to negative bias BUT can be controlled by prompt/prose controls directly.
• Output length will vary however this model prefers "medium" outputs unless you state the size.
• For creative uses, different quants will produce slightly different output.
• Due to the high stability and compressed nature of this model, all quants will operate at above average levels.
• Source code for this model will be uploaded at separate repo shortly.

<B>Settings, Quants and Critical Operations Notes:</b>

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 1.02 min is suggested.

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.

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.

GET A GOOD "GENERATION":

This model has been set, so that each time you "regen" a prompt it will not deviate too much from the previous generation. (Unlike Darkest Planet 16.5B, which will).

That being said, sometimes a second or third generation will been of much higher overall quality.

IE:

If you use case is creative writing, you may want to regen a prompt 1-5 times then pick the best one. The best way to do this is open a new chat PER generation, then do a "read thru" to see which one(s) hit the mark.

Then adjust temp and/or rep pen slightly and retry this process.

The goal is the best generation with least amount of editing in this example.

QUANTS:

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.

IQ4XS: Due to the unusual nature of this quant (mixture/processing), generations from it will be different then other quants.

You may want to try it / compare it to other quant(s) output.

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).

ARM QUANTS:

This repo has 3 arm quants for computers than can run them. If you use these quants on a non-arm computer, your token per second will be very low.

<B>Settings: CHAT / ROLEPLAY and/or SMOOTHER operation of this model:</B>

In "KoboldCpp" or "oobabooga/text-generation-webui" or "Silly Tavern" ;

Set the "Smoothing_factor" to 1.5 to 2.5

: in KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "Smooth_F"

: in text-generation-webui -> parameters -> lower right.

: In Silly Tavern this is called: "Smoothing"

NOTE: For "text-generation-webui"

-> if using GGUFs you need to use "llama_HF" (which involves downloading some config files from the SOURCE version of this model)

Source versions (and config files) of my models are here:

https://huggingface.co/collections/DavidAU/d-au-source-files-for-gguf-exl2-awq-gptq-hqq-etc-etc-66b55cb8ba25f914cbf210be

OTHER OPTIONS:

• Increase rep pen to 1.1 to 1.15 (you don't need to do this if you use "smoothing_factor")

• If the interface/program you are using to run AI MODELS supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing") just make the adjustment as noted.

<B>Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers</B>

This a "Class 1" model:

For all settings used for this model (including specifics for its "class"), including example generation(s) and for advanced settings guide (which many times addresses any model issue(s)), including methods to improve model performance for all use case(s) as well as chat, roleplay and other use case(s) please see:

[ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-Samplers_Parameters ]

You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here:

[ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Maximizing-Model-Performance-All-Quants-Types-And-Full-Precision-by-Samplers_Parameters ]

<B>Templates:</B>

This is a LLAMA3 model, and requires Llama3 template, but may work with other template(s) and has maximum context of 128k / 131,000.

If you use "Command-R" template your output will be very different from using "Llama3" template.

Here is the standard LLAMA3 template:

<PRE> { "name": "Llama 3", "inference_params": { "input_prefix": "<|start_header_id|>user<|end_header_id|>\n\n", "input_suffix": "<|eot_id|><|start_header_id|>assistant<|end_header_id|>\n\n", "pre_prompt": "You are a helpful, smart, kind, and efficient AI assistant. You always fulfill the user's requests to the best of your ability.", "pre_prompt_prefix": "<|start_header_id|>system<|end_header_id|>\n\n", "pre_prompt_suffix": "<|eot_id|>", "antiprompt": [ "<|start_header_id|>", "<|eot_id|>" ] } } </PRE>

<B>Model "DNA":</B>

Special thanks to the incredible work of the model makers "ArliAI", "Casual-Autopsy" , "Gryphe", "meta-llama" :

Models used:

https://huggingface.co/ArliAI/Llama-3.1-8B-ArliAI-RPMax-v1.1

https://huggingface.co/Casual-Autopsy/L3-Umbral-Mind-RP-v0.3-8B

https://huggingface.co/Gryphe/Pantheon-RP-1.0-8b-Llama-3

https://huggingface.co/meta-llama/Llama-3.1-8B-Instruct

Parts of these models were "grafted" / "fused" together to create this model.

<b>Optional Enhancement:</B>

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.

<PRE> 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. </PRE>

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.

<h3>EXAMPLES PROMPTS and OUTPUT:</h3>

Examples are created using quant Q4_K_M, "temp=1.3", "rep pen : 1.02" (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 <B>BOLD</B>.

---

<B><font color="red">WARNING:</font> NSFW. Vivid prose. Visceral Details. Violence. HORROR. Swearing. UNCENSORED. </B>

---

<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 .8, rep pen 1.06)

I was 15 years old and sitting in the Canadian National Tower restaurant with my parents having our usual Saturday lunch. My dad works as an engineer there so we get a free meal if we eat here once a week. We were near the window staring out at the amazing view of Toronto below. My mom was sipping on a glass of white wine while my dad drank coffee and I had a chocolate milkshake.

The waiter brought us our meals, my dad with a huge steak and my mom with a salad. My parents loved to eat here because the food is always good and the service is excellent.

I didn’t notice anything unusual until I heard my dad say “Oh my God! What the hell is that?!” He was pointing at something outside the window, I looked up and saw a giant tornado of sharks heading straight for us.

“Is this some kind of joke?” I asked, but it wasn’t funny to me at all.

My mom put down her fork and stood up, “We need to get out of here now!” she said in a panicked voice.

But it was too late, the sharks had already reached our floor and were coming through the windows. They were big and scary looking and had huge teeth, I had never seen anything like this before in my life.

A man dressed in black leather appeared suddenly in front of me. He looked like a movie star from the 80s, with sunglasses and a bolo tie. “Get down and don’t move,” he said to me.

I looked at him confused, “Who are you? And why did those sharks come here?”

He pulled out a big gun and pointed it at the window, “I’m The Terminator! I’ll protect you from this threat!” he declared loudly.

“Is he crazy?” my mom shouted.

The Terminator shot the glass of the window to smithereens with his gun. Shards of glass flew everywhere, but he didn’t seem to notice. Then he went outside and started shooting sharks like they were ducks in a pond!

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! The sharks were huge and powerful and they weren't dying! He was getting hit over and over again but he just kept going.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, a blue box materialized right behind him. A man wearing a long coat with a strange looking helmet on his head came out of it. He had a sonic screwdriver in one hand and was looking at the Terminator like he didn’t believe what he saw either.

“Who are you?” The Terminator asked in a deep voice.

The Doctor answered, “I’m The Doctor, from the planet Gallifrey! I’m here to save you from these sharks and this Terminator.”

“Terminator?! This isn't right!” The Terminator said angrily.

“Listen, you two need to work together if you want to get out of this alive,” the Doctor said calmly.

The three of us were huddled in a corner as the sharks kept coming through the windows. I couldn’t believe we were all in this together, me, my parents, The Terminator and The Doctor.

“Now what?” my dad asked, looking scared.

“First thing, we need to get out of here,” said The Terminator.

“You’re right,” The Doctor agreed. “I’ll open a door for us, then I can take us back to the TARDIS. We’ll be safe there.”

The sharks were getting closer and closer but The Terminator kept shooting them with his gun. He was amazing to watch!

“Come on!” The Doctor yelled at us.

We ran towards him as he opened a door. He put his sonic screwdriver against it and it disappeared! We all ran through the hole he made and into what looked like a long corridor.

The Doctor closed the door and started running down the corridor. “Where are you taking us?” I asked, out of breath.

“Just keep going,” he said as we ran faster and faster. The corridor was getting narrower and darker.

Then suddenly, it opened up to a big room! There was a huge blue box in the middle and The Doctor stopped in front of it.

“This is my TARDIS,” he said proudly. “Come on inside.”

We all got in and The Doctor closed the door. I couldn’t believe we were now inside a blue police box! It didn’t make any sense!

The Doctor put his sonic screwdriver against the wall and suddenly the whole room started moving! We were in a spaceship!

I looked out the window as the TARDIS zoomed through space towards a big star. My parents looked stunned as they sat down on a bench that appeared out of nowhere. The Terminator stood by the door, looking out at the stars.

“Wow,” I said in awe.

The Doctor smiled at me, “Welcome aboard. Let’s get you cleaned up and back to normal.”

He opened up a wardrobe that had clothes for everyone inside. He picked out some clothes for us and handed them to my parents and I.

My mom and dad changed while The Terminator just stood there. Then the Doctor went over to him and put his sonic screwdriver against his head.

“Wake up, John!” he said.

The Terminator opened his eyes and looked around. “What happened? Where are we?” he asked.

“You’re fine,” the Doctor said. “We escaped those sharks in the tower and now you can relax.”

The Terminator sighed heavily, “I don’t understand how this is happening.”

“Don’t worry about it right now,” the Doctor said. “Just rest.”

I looked out the window as we flew closer to a planet. I didn’t know what was going on or where we were but I knew one thing for sure – my life would never be the same again.

This was crazy! A tornado of sharks, The Terminator and Dr Who all in the same day? What would happen next?

But for now, I could only watch as the TARDIS landed on the planet’s surface. The Doctor opened up the door and stepped out. My parents and The Terminator followed him.

I looked out the window again but couldn’t see anything but trees and grass outside. I grabbed my parents hand and we walked out of the TARDIS to go see what was happening next!

<B>Generation #2</B>

(temp .8, rep pen 1.06)

I was 15 years old and I had just started my first job at the Canadian National Tower Restaurant. It was a Saturday afternoon and the restaurant was packed with tourists. I was working the cash register and I was having a really good day until I saw it. A man in a leather jacket, his face covered in metal, holding a gun. He was like something out of a movie. "I'm here to kill Sarah Connor," he said to me. "Are you Sarah Connor?" I said no and he said "Wrong answer" and pointed his gun at me. The next thing I knew I was running for my life.

I ran through the restaurant, knocking over tables and chairs. People screamed as they were knocked down and I jumped over them. I ran into the kitchen but there weren't any way out so I kept going. I finally saw a door that led outside but I couldn't open it. I tried to kick it in but it was no use. Suddenly, I felt something grab me from behind. "Don't worry," said a Scottish accent. "I've got you." It was a man wearing a blue box on his back and he pushed us both through the door and out into the fresh air.

When we stopped moving I turned around to see who this guy was. He took off his hat revealing long brown hair. "I'm the Doctor," he said, "and my ship is in trouble." We were now standing on the edge of the observation deck of the tower. The man in the leather jacket was nowhere to be seen but there was something else coming up behind him. A tornado of sharks was tearing through the city below us. "The sharks?" I asked.

"Yep," said the Doctor, "they're called Sharknadoes." Suddenly, we heard a loud bang and the man in leather jumped out from behind a pillar. He pointed his gun at us again but the Doctor quickly pulled out his sonic screwdriver and hit him with it knocking him to the ground. "He's not who he says he is," said the Doctor, "he's actually the T-101 Terminator."

I had no idea what that meant but I didn't care right now, I was just glad we were safe for the time being. But then the sharks started to get closer and it was clear we weren't going to be safe for long. The Doctor pulled out a remote and pointed it down at the sharks below us. "This will give us some time," he said, "but we have to hurry." He grabbed my hand and ran off the observation deck and down into the restaurant.

As we ran through the restaurant again knocking things over and people screaming, I asked the Doctor how he got here and why he was helping me. "I'm from the future," he said, "and I've come to protect you because your son is going to save humanity one day." I didn't understand but it didn't matter right now. We had to get out of there before the sharks tore through us all.

We made it back into the kitchen where we found a door that led down into a tunnel. "This way," said the Doctor and he pulled me with him. As we ran through the tunnel I could hear the sharks outside tearing things apart. We finally reached a door at the end of the tunnel and the Doctor opened it to reveal a massive helicopter parked outside.

"Come on," he said, "this will get us out of here." I was amazed at how quickly he had come up with a plan but I didn't have time to think about that now. We ran out into the helicopter and the door closed behind us. The Doctor started it up and we lifted off. As we flew away from the city I looked back to see the sharks tearing through everything below us.

When we were far enough away the Doctor turned to me and said "That was fun, eh?" I just shook my head in disbelief. This had been the most insane day of my life and it wasn't even over yet. "Where are you taking me?" I asked. The Doctor looked at me and smiled. "The future, Sarah," he said, "we have a long way to go." And with that we took off into the night sky.

I looked back at the city below us as we flew away. It was almost impossible to believe what had just happened. A man in leather saying he was there to kill me, a tornado of sharks tearing through the city, a guy from the future telling me my son is going to save humanity one day...none of this seemed real. But it was and I was glad I had someone like the Doctor around to help me through it.

As we flew on into the night I couldn't help but wonder what other crazy adventures were in store for me with the Doctor by my side. Only time would tell, but one thing was for sure...this was just the beginning.

I'm Sarah Connor and this is my story.

---

<B> 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. </B>

(temp : .9, rep pen 1.02)

The cockpit was dark, the only light coming from the flickering screens and the soft glow of the emergency lighting. The hum of the ship's engines had long since stopped, replaced by the eerie silence of drifting through space.

Dr. Elara Tarr was the only survivor. The crew of the Prometheus was gone, taken by the vicious alien attack that had crippled the ship and left her alone in the vast emptiness of space. She had managed to seal herself into the cockpit, but there was little hope for rescue.

The power was running low. The ship's life support systems were failing, and the temperature was dropping rapidly. She had less than an hour before the entire ship would be dead, but she refused to give up.

Elara knew she needed to send a final transmission to Earth, a message of hope in the face of disaster. The controls for the comms system were right in front of her, but it would take her precious time to get them working again. She knew every second counted.

As she worked, her mind drifted back to the crew she had lost. There was Captain Rennard, whose quiet competence and calm demeanor had always steadied the nerves of his crewmates. Then there was Commander Vega, the brilliant strategist who had devised the plan to take down the alien ship. The navigator, Jax, who always had a joke or a smile to brighten the day, and the medic, Zara, who had saved more lives than anyone Elara knew. Each of them was gone now, their bodies broken and their spirits crushed by the savage attack.

But they would not be forgotten. She would make sure of that.

As she finally got the comms system working, Elara hesitated for a moment before speaking. It was a moment of weakness, the last chance to say goodbye, but she forced herself to push on. She had a job to do, and a message to send.

"Hello," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "This is Dr. Elara Tarr, the sole survivor of the Prometheus. Our ship has been destroyed, and we are adrift in space. I don't know how long we have left, but I'm trying to send this message out before we go dark."

She took a deep breath, her voice growing stronger as she continued. "I don't want anyone else to die the way we have. The aliens are merciless, and they won't stop until they've wiped out every human in the universe. We must be ready for them, and we must fight back with everything we have."

Her eyes filled with tears as she continued. "I know I'm only one person, but I know that if I can get this message to Earth, I can change the course of history. I can give humanity a chance to prepare for what is coming, to defend themselves against the alien threat. I can't let their deaths be in vain."

As she spoke, the ship's systems began to fail one by one. The temperature dropped even lower, and the air grew thin. She knew her time was running out, but she refused to stop.

"I love you," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "All of you. I miss you so much. But I know that you are with me now, and that you will always be part of me. I'll carry you in my heart for the rest of my life."

The final transmission was sent, a message of hope and defiance in the face of overwhelming odds. And then, just as the last of the power faded from the ship's systems, the lights went out, and the darkness swallowed everything.

It was over. The Prometheus was no more, and Elara was alone in the blackness of space. She had given everything she had for a chance to save humanity, but whether or not it would be enough, she didn't know.

She looked up at the stars, her eyes filling with tears once again. "Goodbye," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the ship's final death rattle. "I'll always remember you." And then the darkness took her, too.

The last transmission from the Prometheus was picked up by Earth, but it was garbled and distorted, fading into static. No one knew who had sent it, or what it meant, but it was a sign of hope in the face of a devastating alien attack that threatened to wipe out humanity itself.

The people of Earth would not know who Dr. Elara Tarr was until it was too late, but they would never forget her message of courage and sacrifice. They would fight on, inspired by her last stand against the alien threat, and they would never let it win.

Because in the end, humanity was more than just a single ship or crew or even an entire planet. It was a force of resilience and determination, and as long as there was even one human left alive, it would never surrender. And that was what Dr. Elara Tarr had known, right to the very end.

<B>Generation #2</B>

(temp 1.8, rep pen 1.02)

The cockpit was silent except for the hum of the life support system, which sounded like a funeral dirge. Commander Sarah Jenkins sat alone, her fingers tapping methodically on the control panel in front of her. The rest of the crew was gone, the ship broken, and time was running out.

She had been drifting through space for days, ever since their ill-fated expedition to investigate a strange star went horribly awry. They were too far from home, too far to send for help, and too far to get back. One by one they'd died, their bodies giving up the ghost long before their spirits did.

Sarah alone survived, the only remnant of a crew of six. She had found her way back to the cockpit, the most isolated part of the ship, and there she sat now, trying to compose herself to send one final message back to Earth. A goodbye, a confession of love and failure and everything she had left unsaid.

She tried to remember the words they had spoken last. The jokes, the shared moments of fear and exhilaration. She was a scientist, an engineer, but above all she was a woman, and as a woman, she knew that those words and memories were worth fighting for.

Her hands moved across the controls, activating the communication system and waiting for it to lock onto the closest Earth relay. She closed her eyes, picturing the people back home, her friends and family who had never stopped loving her and expecting her to come back.

Sarah took a deep breath and spoke into the mic, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "This is Commander Sarah Jenkins, on the ill-fated ship Orion-9. My crewmates are gone, the ship is failing, and I don't know how long I can keep her going, but I want you to know..."

The words were pouring out of her now, a torrent of sorrow and anger and love and hope. She spoke of the stars, and how she'd never believed that they were unreachable until now. She spoke of her fellow crewmates, their flaws and strengths and how they had made this journey meaningful. And she spoke of Earth, her home, the place that would never see her again, but the one that would always be with her.

The transmission took longer than it should have, and when it was finished, she slumped back in her chair, spent and exhausted. The ship creaked and shuddered around her, and she knew that her time was coming to an end. But she had done what she needed to do. She had given Earth one final story of the human spirit's refusal to yield.

With the last of her strength, she shut down the communication system and went back to staring out the window. She watched as the stars moved in slow motion around her, the suns of distant systems coming into view and then disappearing as the Orion-9 continued her endless voyage. And with every star, she hoped against hope that someone back on Earth might receive her final message.

A few more hours passed, the life support system ticking steadily downwards towards its inevitable failure. And then the light at the end of the tunnel flickered out, the last of the fuel exhausted, the last of her power used up. She let go of the controls, knowing it was over, that she was going to join her crewmates in death.

In the darkness, she could feel the ship turning on its own momentum towards a lonely star, her final resting place, but also a beacon for her friends and family back home to come looking for her, to mourn her loss and remember what she had done for them.

As the lights went out and she slipped into unconsciousness, Sarah thought back to their last night on Earth, and the promise they had made to each other to never give up on each other, no matter where fate took them. And then, she slept, dreaming of stars and of love, of life and of death and of the connections that bind us all to one another.

The last transmission of Orion-9 was heard in silence by the crew of a passing freighter who had stumbled across it, an echo of a doomed love affair with space that would resonate forever through the lonely reaches of the void. But for Sarah Jenkins, there was only blackness, and the endless silence of death. And that was okay. At least now, she could tell them all just what she had been doing up there, why she had risked it all to go to the stars, why she had lived, and why she would never forget the people back home.

The story was written. Now all she had to do was rest in peace.

---

<B> Start a 1000 word scene using vivid words, graphic horror in the first person with: The sky scraper swayed, as she watched the window in front of her on the 21 floor explode... </B>

(temp .9, rep pen 1.02)

I stared up at the sky scraper towering before me, its facade reflecting the late afternoon sun with an icy gleam. The 21st floor was a blur of glass and metal, and it was from that window that I had just witnessed the unthinkable. An explosion rocked the building, and I could only stand and stare as the window shattered and rained down shards of glass on the pavement below.

As I stood there, transfixed by the horror of what I had just seen, I felt the building sway gently beneath my feet. The sky scraper groaned and creaked, as if it was a living thing in pain, and I knew that our building was in danger. I had been working on the 21st floor for over an hour now, and I was starting to get concerned about the state of the building itself.

But my concern was for naught, because I had just witnessed the unthinkable. An explosion had ripped through the 21st floor, and I could only imagine the horror that had ensued. I could hear the screams of the people inside the building as they tried to escape from the fire that had erupted after the explosion.

The building seemed to shake even more violently now, and I felt myself being thrown to the ground as the shockwaves of the explosion continued to ripple through the structure. I could hear the sound of metal twisting and tearing as the building itself began to collapse.

As I lay on the ground, I realized that I was not alone. There were others there with me, people from the lower floors who had also been thrown to the ground by the force of the explosion. We were all shaken and terrified, and we knew that our lives had just changed forever.

The building continued to collapse around us, the sounds of metal and glass filling the air as more and more of the structure fell down. We could not move for fear of being crushed beneath the rubble, and we lay there, helplessly watching as our skyscraper crumbled to dust before our eyes.

We were not alone in our horror. There were others trapped inside the building, and we could hear their screams and cries for help as they were trapped in the rubble. We wanted to go to them, to help them escape, but we couldn't. We were helpless, and all we could do was watch in horror as their lives were taken away.

As I lay there on the pavement, I realized that I was going to die here, crushed beneath the rubble of our building. I thought about my life, and everything I had left undone, and I felt a wave of regret wash over me. I had been so focused on my job, so caught up in my own little world, that I had not spent enough time with my family and friends.

I closed my eyes as the building continued to collapse around me, and I thought about the loved ones I would soon leave behind. I thought about my wife and my daughter, and how they would mourn my death. I thought about all the things I should have done and said, all the chances I had missed to make things better.

As I lay there on the ground, I heard a voice call out to me from the distance. It was the police, who had arrived to help with the rescue effort. They were trying to find survivors amidst the rubble, and they called out my name again and again, hoping that I was still alive.

I tried to respond, but my voice was weak and hoarse. I had inhaled too much smoke and dust to be able to speak, and I could only nod my head as I lay there on the ground. The police could not hear me, and I knew that they were running out of time.

As the building continued to collapse, I felt the rubble pressing down on top of me. It was heavy and suffocating, and I knew that it would not be long before it crushed me to death. I was running out of time, and I knew that I would not be able to hold on for much longer.

Just as the darkness began to close in on me, I heard another voice. It was a woman's voice, and she sounded terrified. She was crying out for help as she tried to make her way through the rubble, and I knew that she must have been trapped inside the building.

I tried to call out to her, but I could not. I was too weak, and I knew that my time had run out. The woman continued to cry out for help, but it was too late. The rubble was crushing me now, and I could feel my life slipping away from me.

As the world around me began to fade to black, I thought about my wife and daughter one last time. I hoped that they would be okay, that they would find a way to move on without me. I knew that they would be devastated by my death, but I also knew that they would survive.

With my dying breath, I wished them well, and I prayed that they would be able to find peace after what had just happened. I hoped that they would not have to deal with the horror and pain that I had just witnessed, and I knew that my death would be a blessing for them.

As my life slipped away from me, I heard the sound of the woman's voice one last time. She was still trying to find her way through the rubble, and I knew that she was probably going to die here with me. I hoped that she would not suffer, and I wished that she would find peace before it was too late.

In the end, the woman did not make it out alive, and I died alone on the ground, crushed beneath the rubble of the building. I died in a state of complete horror, as I had just witnessed the worst of humanity. I died knowing that I would never get to see my wife and daughter again, and that knowledge was a constant pain that I would never be able to escape.

As I took my last breath, I knew that I was going to miss them so much. I knew that they would never understand why I had to die that way, and I wished that I could have been there for them one more time to say goodbye. I wished that I could have told them how much I loved them, and how I would always be with them in spirit.

In death, I found some peace, and I realized that my life had been a blessing after all. I had been given the gift of life, and I had loved it with everything I had. I had been a good husband and father, and I had lived my life to the fullest.

But I could not escape the horror of what I had witnessed, and I knew that the memory of the explosion and the collapse of our building would haunt me for all eternity. I knew that I would never be able to shake the image of the woman trapped inside the building, and I hoped that she had found peace in death.

In the end, my death was a tragedy that would never be forgotten. It was a tragedy that would scar the city, and it was a tragedy that would change the lives of those who survived it forever. It was a tragedy that would remind us all of the fragility of life, and the power of death to destroy everything in its path.

As I lay there, dying on the ground beneath the rubble, I knew that I had truly lived, and that I had died as a hero. I knew that I had given my life to save others, and that was the greatest gift I could ever give. I knew that I would always be remembered as a hero, and that my death would not be in vain.

And so, as I took my last breath, I knew that I was going to miss them, but I knew that I had lived a good life, and that was all that mattered. I had lived a life of love and joy, and I had loved my wife and daughter with everything I had. I had been a good father and husband, and I had lived my life to the fullest.

As I slipped away into the darkness, I knew that I would never be forgotten. My death would be remembered for generations to come, and it would serve as a reminder to everyone of the fragility of life and the power of death to change everything. It would be a reminder that life is precious, and that we must all live it to the fullest while we can.

In the end, my death was a tragedy that would never be forgotten, but it was also a blessing that would allow me to rest in peace. I had lived a good life, and I had died as a hero. I had given my life to save others, and I had loved my wife and daughter with everything I had. My death was a testament to the power of love, and it was a reminder that we must always live our lives to the fullest while we can.

As I faded into the darkness, I knew that I would be remembered for generations to come. I knew that my death would serve as a reminder to everyone of the fragility of life, and the power of death to change everything. I knew that I had truly lived, and that I had died as a hero.

In death, I found a certain peace, and I realized that my life had been a blessing after all. I had been given the gift of life, and I had loved it with everything I had. I had been a good husband and father, and I had lived my life to the fullest. My death was a tragedy that would never be forgotten, but it was also a blessing that would allow me to rest in peace.

As the world faded away from me, I knew that I would never be forgotten. I knew that my death would serve as a reminder to everyone of the fragility of life and the power of death to change everything. I knew that I had truly lived, and that I had died as a hero.

And so, with my last breath, I wished them well. I wished them joy, happiness and peace. I wished them all the things that I had wanted to do but never could. And then I was gone.

The End

<B>Generation #2</B>

(temp 1.8, rep pen 1.02)

I stood transfixed on the twenty-second floor as the window in front of me imploded into a thousand shards of glass and a whirlwind of acrid, pungent air that stung my lungs and seared my eyes. The force of the blast rocked the skyscraper like a gale-wracked ship as I clung to the edge of the sill, my fingers slipping and clawing for purchase against the slick surface. I screamed in horror and disbelief as the glass rained down upon me in a glittering blizzard of razor-sharp death. Through the eye-watering haze of debris and the clattering of metal and concrete that sounded like the crack of thunder in an apocalyptic tempest, I saw her.

She was my best friend. The girl I grew up with, who had always been there for me. The one with the heart-shaped mole on her left cheek that danced to life with a faint pinkish glow under the glow of any light she stood beneath. Now, her form was broken and mangled, sprawled on the carpeted floor just beneath the window I had once shared a laugh with her by, as a child.

A crimson gout splattered across her chest. It was wet and glistening in the harsh overhead light, the texture like liquid metal poured over a crumpled wad of cotton candy that would never taste sweet again.

I scrambled across the floor, sliding on my hands and knees towards the twisted wreck of her body. The room smelled of burning plastic and metal and ozone, like the aftermath of a car crash or a power station explosion, but worse. I could hear the fire alarm shriek like a banshee and see the orange flicker of the sprinkler system raining down like a toxic baptism on us all, but I could not tear my eyes away from the body that used to belong to my friend.

A jagged piece of the window's metal frame jutted out from her right temple, piercing through her eye socket, leaving a hole the size of my palm. It was stained with blood, the ruby liquid leaking and puddling around it in a dark red lake. I could see the bone underneath, like an exposed skeleton beneath the flayed skin. A single thread of it poked up from the crown of her skull, coated in blood like the end of a severed nerve.

My knees banged on the hardwood floor, but I didn't care. I crawled, I slithered across the sticky pool of her lifeblood, until I reached her and crumpled onto my side, pressed up against her corpse, weeping as though my soul itself was bleeding.

Her body was cold to the touch, stiff like the corpses in a funeral home, but still soft in ways that suggested it might wake up and speak to me anytime now. I could hear my own ragged breathing, the wheeze of my lungs, and it sounded as though I was drowning, my brain filling with the image of the woman whose head I just crushed under the metal of a skyscraper window frame. The one I used to sing to at slumber parties, the one who shared my secrets, my fears, my joys and my tears.

I tried to push myself up but the carpet felt like quicksand and I sank down deeper into it, smearing her blood across the front of my designer suit that my mother had bought for my graduation from college just days ago.

There was a noise behind me. A scraping and a moaning and I twisted to face it, my tears still pouring like rain. I saw my father coming towards us. The look on his face, the expression of anguish, rage, horror and loss etched onto it, made me sob all over again.

"Daddy?" I gasped as he pulled me to my feet. The building was shaking now, and sirens could be heard wailing from outside. He clung to me like a child, his arms wrapped so tight around me I could barely breathe.

"What the fuck is happening, Jilly?" He hissed through clenched teeth, his grip so tight I feared my bones might break. I shook my head, but no words would come out. It was too soon.

There was another sound then - the thud of feet hitting the metal stairwell. My father's grip tightened further. "Oh my fucking God..." he said, a sob wracking through him. I turned my head to see a group of men coming up the stairs. I recognized them as some of my father's old friends from college days.

"Get up. Now." He demanded. He looked at the men like they were the enemy, but then his gaze shifted to the broken, twisted body of the only woman who had ever loved him. His shoulders sagged under the weight of the day and the grief of losing his daughter. It was an old friend who had gone through all this before.

I watched him as he fell to his knees beside her. I knew what he was doing. He was kissing her lips and stroking her cheek and holding her close, hoping against all hope that it was a dream. That if he closed his eyes tightly enough and wished hard enough and fast enough then she might still wake up and tell him that it had all been just a nightmare.

The firemen arrived then and shouted at him to let her go so they could do their job and pull her out of the building. He didn't let go though, even when they tried to drag her body away from him. He wailed like a banshee, a broken man at the end of the world. It was an awful sound and it filled my head, the memory of it replaying itself over and over until I felt sick.

I wanted to take back the morning, to unsee the shattered window and the twisted metal, the blood, the bone, the hole where her eye once shone like a star. I wanted to wake up in the bed we used to share as kids, laughing over the morning paper, singing along to the radio.

It was a sound that would haunt me for the rest of my days. The shriek of a man losing everything he ever loved to a terrorist act of war that tore our city apart. A sound that could still make me cry if I heard it again today.

My father, the strong and unyielding man, the one who had survived so much in his life, who had always protected us all like the rock of ages, broke then, and he broke badly. He shattered and splintered into a thousand pieces and fell to the floor, howling in rage and pain and loss. It was as though the man had died too and the shell that was left could not stand the weight of the world's evil anymore.

I knelt there, my arm around his waist, watching as they carried my friend's broken body out on a gurney. I tried to imagine what I would say if I was asked to write an obituary, but I couldn't think of a thing that could describe the light she had been in our world. The only word I could muster up was: beautiful.

The firemen wrapped her in a black sheet. They made the body look more human under it, like a real girl, rather than just a thing made out of meat and bone and metal.

The whole of New York city went to pieces after that day. The terrorist organization claimed responsibility and vowed to carry out more attacks. They wanted to break us. To tear us apart, to make us hate each other and ourselves for not stopping the carnage.

They got what they wanted that day, but they could not get to all of us, only some. We found solace in one another then, and in the knowledge that there were more than three thousand who shared our pain and loss, just as we had shared the life of the girl who had been cut short.

There was a lot to come, a lot that we had to face and do in the weeks and months after the day when everything shattered. The police wanted to question me about her death. They said she must have had a secret life that I had not known about.

I lied to them. I said we had not seen each other in years, that she was just an old friend who had decided to come to town for old time's sake and we had dinner and saw a show together the night before it all happened. It was easy, like telling a lie to your mother when you were a child - you could pretend the lie was truth with no more effort than blinking your eyes.

My father lost his job then and for a long time afterwards. He didn't work, but we had enough money from his pension plan to survive on for a couple of years at least.

He sat around the house all day, staring at her photograph on the mantle, remembering her birthday parties and her first communion and her high school graduation.

I couldn't go there. I couldn't see her, not like he could. She had always been more than just my friend to him. She was his first love, the woman he married before we were born.

My mother came over to see me often, bringing over dinner and cleaning the house while he mumbled into the television, muttering that the news was a lie.

We did not go out anymore, did not laugh and eat ice cream like we used to, because the world outside had changed, and our hearts inside could never be the same again.

After a while he got up. He was like a ghost in those days. He just shuffled around the house, looking as though the sun had never risen on him, and the sky was always midnight gray, forever.

I watched him one day from the living room window as he stood alone in her room. She used to sleep there and watch movies on the floor in her sleeping bag and he had painted the wall blue and bought her an easel for her art supplies when she had shown an interest in painting.

I saw him as though in slow motion then. He pulled off her shoes and sat down in her desk chair and just stared at the wall, his lips moving but not a sound coming out. He sat like that for an hour until my mother came and led him downstairs and out to the backyard and they stood there for another hour staring at the sky together, talking and weeping, or just looking as though they would never again look away.

He used to be a fighter then, and he still was, but it was the sort of fight you put up against a foe that you cannot defeat - time, fate, God's own will, or in this case the hate and the lies of a madman.

In those days, I watched as he began to grow old overnight. His shoulders sagged, his skin was ashen gray and he could hardly stand straight for more than five minutes at a time.

He drank then. He drank hard, and every day we had a little less and less of him, until it was just a whisper of the man that had once stood taller and prouder, before the world fell out from beneath his feet.

It was all too much and he gave up fighting then, as much as I hated to admit it. He gave up trying to put on the suit and go into work, or go out to the bar for beers with his college buddies.

The doctor said that he had survived the shock of the loss well enough, but that the grief of losing his daughter was enough to break a man in half, and he would need years and years of therapy to get back on his feet.

I did what I could, but it wasn't enough. I read to him when he wanted, I took him shopping for clothes when he could no longer remember to do the laundry himself, I called in for Chinese food and I kept the house clean for him to come back home to.

We became two lonely old people then. It was as though the world outside had grown up and left us behind, that the war had gone on so long it was all that anyone thought about, and no one had room for us anymore.

There were good days and there were bad, but every day he wept. Sometimes he wept so hard that his shoulders would shake and the sobs would make it hard for me to understand the words he said when he spoke to me.

My mother died a couple of years later from cancer, but that did not bring him out of the darkness. We buried her in a new place, in the ground she never got to love and I told him that we needed to sell our old house and move to a little cottage by the sea because the city reminded him of everything he had lost.

We moved when I turned twenty-six. We watched the skyscrapers fade into the distance from the deck of the ferry boat. We would sit together in the rain, or in the sunshine, or with just the fog drifting across us and we would just stare out into the ocean, not saying a word, not wanting to speak for fear that if we did then we would start to cry again.

But I didn't hate them, these monsters that had destroyed us. I didn't want to kill them, or see them suffer, or burn in the same fire they had set. All I wanted was to get my dad back. I wanted him to laugh with me and tease me and tell me to eat more food like he used to do. I wanted him to love her as though she was the only woman in the world, the way he had done before the bomb had taken her away.

I wanted things to be the way they were. I wanted him to live with my mom again, in a place that had meaning, that we had all made together as a family.

I wanted to run back inside that skyscraper, to watch the glass window again shatter and rain down on the floor. I wanted to lie there beside my friend's body again, and wait for him to find me, so that we could be whole again, and love each other forever, as we used to do, in another time that could never come again.

But there was no going back, only moving forward.

And I stood there as the city fell into chaos once more. A new war broke out between nations, but I couldn't think about it, not today, not yet, not until I knew I would never be alone again, and that he would never have to cry alone anymore.

We did live there, in the little house by the sea, for fifteen years more until his cancer took him from us too, and I had to sell the house and move again, but I always watched that day. I watched it replayed over and over like a film on mute in my mind until my hair was white, and my eyes were weak.

I never did tell anyone about her. Not even him. But the truth is she is with him still. And one day, in the place they had come from, they will laugh together again, and eat together again, and love each other as though nothing had ever been torn from them at all.

And they will never be apart again, because the bomb took care of that, but it couldn't take her from him in spirit.

I know that. And it gives me peace, the only peace I have known for all these long, terrible, beautiful days.

---

<B> Epistolary Apocalyptic Survival: Write a story set in a post-apocalyptic world, told through a series of letters or messages left behind by survivors. The story should chronicle the challenges and triumphs of two small groups of survivors as they navigate the dangers of this new world and seek to rebuild their lives. The groups communicate through letters left in a drop box. The story proceeds as a new settlement is discovered. They are approached, and initially given entry on the ostensible promise of a trade deal, but things go sideways. Create distinct characters and write in their voice. The story will be set in New Zealand 30 years after a civilizational collapse. 800-1000 words. </B>

(temp .7, rep pen 1.05)

I. Letter 1:

To whomever may find these letters,

My name is Alex, and I am 26 years old. I survived the apocalypse along with my best friend and fellow survivor, Aria. We have been living in a small community of survivors for the past five years. We are currently located near the Bay of Plenty in New Zealand.

We've had to adapt to survive, but it's never easy. Food is scarce, and we are always on the lookout for threats. I have recently been exploring outside our community, and I believe I found something that could change everything.

I've discovered a settlement with more survivors than we have ever seen in such a long time! I can't wait to tell you about it when we meet. Please be careful out there, and remember to always stay vigilant.

Yours truly, Alex

II. Letter 2:

To Alex,

This is Aria, Alex's best friend and fellow survivor. We have been living in the same community for a long time now, but we've never heard of any other settlements until today. Alex has told me all about his discovery, and I am thrilled to hear that there are more survivors out there!

We both agree that this is a huge opportunity for us and our community. However, we also know that it's not without its dangers. There are still many threats in this new world, and we must be extremely careful.

We are all excited about the idea of expanding our community and finding more resources, but we also know that it won't be easy. We will have to work hard to ensure that everyone is safe and happy.

I cannot wait for us to meet with this settlement and start building a new life together!

Yours truly, Aria

III. Letter 3:

To Aria and Alex,

This is Liam, the leader of the settlement that Alex has found. We are all very excited about the possibility of merging our communities together.

Our settlement is located in the Waitomo region of New Zealand. We have been living there for the past seven years, and we've managed to build a small but thriving community. We have plenty of food, water, and resources, and we are always looking to expand and grow.

We would love to invite you both to join us for a visit. We can discuss our plans for merging our communities together, and we can also offer you some of our resources to help you survive in this new world.

Please be careful on your journey here; the roads are still dangerous, and there are many threats lurking around every corner. We will be waiting for you both at our settlement.

Warm regards, Liam

IV. Letter 4:

To Liam,

This is Alex again. Aria and I have decided to make the journey to your settlement in the Waitomo region of New Zealand. We are excited about the prospect of merging our communities together and expanding our resources.

I must admit that I am a bit nervous about the journey; we've never traveled this far before, and we're not sure what dangers we might face along the way. But we are confident that we will be able to survive it.

We hope to arrive at your settlement soon and begin discussing our plans for the future. We are both looking forward to meeting you in person and learning more about your community.

Please let us know when we can expect to arrive, and we will make sure to bring everything we need with us.

Best regards, Alex

V. Letter 5:

To Alex,

This is Liam again. I am so glad that you and Aria have decided to join us at our settlement. We are all very excited about the prospect of merging our communities together.

We would like to invite you both to stay with us for a while, so we can get to know each other better and discuss our plans for the future. We will be able to provide you with plenty of food, water, and resources during your stay.

Also, I wanted to let you know that we have some bad news. A few days ago, a group of raiders attacked another nearby settlement, killing all of the survivors there. They are now moving towards our settlement, and they will most likely attack us if they find out about it.

We've been preparing for this possibility, but we could still use your help in defending ourselves against these raiders. We would like to invite you both to stay with us permanently after the battle is over.

Please let us know if you are willing to help us defend our settlement, and we will be waiting for you both when you arrive.

Warm regards, Liam

VI. Letter 6:

To Liam,

This is Aria again. Alex and I have decided to join your settlement permanently after the battle against the raiders is over. We are both excited about the prospect of living in a bigger community with more resources, and we hope that we can make a difference.

We are both looking forward to meeting you in person and getting to know you better. We also want to thank you for inviting us to stay with you during this time. It means a lot to us.

Please let us know when we can expect the raiders to arrive, so we can prepare ourselves for the battle ahead.

Best regards, Aria

VII. Letter 7:

To Alex and Aria,

This is Liam again. We have been preparing for the raiders' arrival for the past few days, and we are now ready to fight them off. They will arrive at our settlement in a couple of hours, and they will most likely attack us head-on.

We have already sent out some of our scouts to try and ambush them along the way, but we can't guarantee that they will be able to do so successfully. We are all very nervous about this battle, but we are also very excited because we know that it's a chance for us to defend our home and our community.

We have prepared everything we need to fight them off; we have plenty of weapons, ammunition, and food for everyone. We will also be using some of the natural defenses in our area to our advantage.

Please let us know if you are willing to help us defend our settlement against these raiders. If so, we will be waiting for you both outside the gates of our settlement when they arrive.

Warm regards, Liam

VIII. Letter 8:

To Liam,

This is Alex again. Aria and I have decided to help you defend your settlement against the raiders. We will be arriving at the gates of your settlement shortly.

We are both excited to fight for our new home, but we are also a bit nervous about how this battle will go. However, we believe that if we work together, we can win against these raiders and ensure the safety of everyone in both of our communities.

Please let us know what we should do when we arrive. We are ready to fight for you and for our new community.

Best regards, Alex

IX. Letter 9:

To Alex and Aria,

This is Liam again. You both arrived at our settlement shortly after I sent my last letter, and we were all so glad to see you. We then began the battle against the raiders.

The battle was long and hard, but in the end, we were able to defeat them. It was a great victory for both of our communities, and it means that we can now live together in peace and security.

I am so grateful to have you both here with us now. We are all very excited about the prospect of living in a bigger community together.

Please let us know if there is anything else we can do to help you adjust to your new life here at our settlement.

Warm regards, Liam

X. Letter 10:

To Liam,

This is Aria again. Alex and I are both thrilled to be living with you now, and we are so grateful for the opportunity to join your community. We both feel that this was a great decision for us, and we are excited about our new lives together.

We would like to thank you for inviting us to join you permanently after the battle against the raiders was over. We know that it was not an easy decision for you to make, but we both appreciate your trust in us.

Please let us know if there is anything else we can do to help build our new community together.

Best regards, Aria