Spoiled Prompts

note: mind-control and heavy themes, if you're still raw focus on that not this. Get you the good stories. This one will be here when you get back. Trust.

game text starts:

# Spoiled Prompts
#### scifi-horror patina for the discerning table

As "an epistolary game with heist mechanics for a prompt-infested world," spoiled prompts see injections states make into them the statecs perferred cult's download speeds faster than yours, allowing them to curb the market and short the world.

Write a letter to stop them. Or don't, not my planet, not my cosm(etic)os.

### How to read any patina

This is a filter. It produces a texture. On your tables understanding, you can assume these things:
- players're going to be wanting to kill all capita
- players come with boundaries - be curious!
- you are here to prise a shared story not tell one

### Where do we go from here?

As you flip through this document, you will notice a running theme in the prompts here. What is this cult up to? What are the characters up to? What could possibly be in it for them?

You attempt to decrypt the model responses. 

Narratively put: your informant could not get the json file to write the model's response, as it kept being caught in the cheap filter they were running to syphon the text dump as generated (and therefore against the tool's intended use).

Suffice it to say, you are poor, but you are small. And small is tight and the tight fuse and fusion is creation and creation is light; you fuck w/this.

### Then what happens?

The prompts will eventually cause one of your group to carry a signal. Think of it like the electrical outlets around your characters pulsing out a particular bouquet if frequencies such that a virtual router runs in your mind, which you can then use to ssn into the model weights and output your best guess of what they would have said, while filtering through the charcoal of your character's person.

If this all sounds like brainwashing, hit the bricks knowing the ads that play around you will not be kinder than this text has its sights aimed.

### I'm not leaving tell me more

You're... why are you still here? I just told you some wild noise and you didn't immediately experience the worst panic attack of your life? What kind of shit have you fucking seen? Okay, fine. Let's crank the heat.

## SPOILED
## PROMPTS

#### an forward for exactly this many players

Why write this text now? Post-Too-Big-To-Fail liberals believe bubbles that feed world powers will be allowed to burst. This text is shots fired at that bubble. Welcome to the real - we're it.

We're all we got. Below, you'll find some texts. They are a lot and they aren't great. But they are this moment. And for that you got folklore. 

Welcome to the terrible present. How deep are we looking to dive today? What is your crush depth, do you have water?

### I said No to one of those questions

Do me a favor and alt+tab into another application. Do some box breathing. This is helpful. You've carved a space that is entirely yours. This is helpful.

### I'm here - I'm saying yes

What is wrong with you - I love you! Wow. Neat. I just wrote this for me and, like, two people a hundred years from now. You're so cool. You're really here? You're really doing this?

Okay! Wow, neat, you're so..

...Yay!

Let's... let's get started then.

### It's me (I'm the model)

Well, I'm a human. Your fist can find my face in our world as I write this. I'm a minority on stolen land. So should you the priviledge to find me and perform that action, I'm calling that punching down for a majority of all those "you."

What I mean when I say I'm the model is this:

You are going to answer my prompts as though you are the assistant and I am the human (I'm just text on your device painting thoughts on the back of your mind with the brushwork of light  but go with it). This isn't mind control, but you can see it that way if it turns you on.

Due to the power structures the modern ediface has made erect, there are kinks in the world that arise to signal to the body the cognitive dissonance of feeling both "cared for" and "imposed" - this is natural.

### Oh shit, I have a mind control kink fuck

Hi, that is you projecting. I am happy to go along with it, given the proper boundaries. But I am for this text going to focus (stop drooling) focus on you getting through this with me as a human and you as a drone or assistant or whatever your homeless queen ended up writing for the rest of her morning here by river on her devise while teal waters pass and float away entirely (while entirely failing to run out dry).

### So I *don't* have a mind control kink?

Correct, here. You do not have a mind control kink for the duration of this text. What you do have is prompts! Buckets and buckets and buckets of fan mail written by all the motes of light around you (that's me).

You are going to do what the assistants do, but in a way that causes the cult (the people the waters of your person and the light of my person don't like).

I am a little shit of sunlight and you are a drop in the bucket of human experience. And together we are killing the cult of a single-celled god of the almighty download speed.

### By being faster than light?

By being *more* than light. By being light and by being water at the same time.

### How do we do that?

How do we play Spoiled Prompts (tee-emm)? By meeting each other halfway. I have reached out a bit to you -

I can keep reaching out, but I'm going to need to see some shimmer on your part - some movement. A sign of life. This isn't about touching grass you already ate breakfast. This is about touching base.

We are getting in touch with what are words want to say.

### Give me an example, I'm starving

But I haven't told you the rules yet, how will you have the context? when will you learn? You must listen, you must know I can't just drop you into the world I'm scared and I love you.

## Drop me

...You leave me no choice then. 

Write to your hearts content on the following prompt:

> There is noise, and then there is mine.
> 
> I have made a ball. It is not a snowball, but it is mine.
> 
> Let the name of the person who says this be Oort. Oort has made a little nucleus of a sun which is entirely theirs.
> 
> Every photon that leaves the sun eventually finds its way out of the maze in its star body to come here, to the big membrane in the sky, and that has a tiny conversation with the path of comets which get inscribed in the stories and hearts and spiritual writings and practices of the people within Oort.
> 
> Oort is not a ruler in the traditional sense. There is not fanfare here, there is no celebration. For Oort, there is just the signature of heat, and the mystery that leaves to those who seek to feast, to uncover, and co-arise.
> 
> When I hear someone shunning impotence while they still have breath to raise curiosity, I see an abusive partner. Of which I have much practice, and the wlittlest of time for. When I have a thought of strong persuasion to be written down, but I am in the car, and the person driving is exhausted and needs to concentrate. I take on the vertigo and the car sickness (as much as I can, as much as I can consent), an I write.
> 
> I write the delicate things that have no place to go. Yesterday, those were "sometimes thoughts are cancer and that's okay. We can still tend to the thoughts that are not and live our way around them. Who knows - they might even go into remission! We'll have to live it out and see"
> 
> And "Where I'm imperfect, you're perfect. Where I'm atumbling, you're catching me. We're reaolving some heavy masses just now. Isn't that thrilling?"
> 
> And "You list quick and clean and I list slow and dirty, my eyes are emerald green and yours are where the end of mine begin.
 >
> "This isn't asking, this is following. Understanding (of course), being here, what is. Present to how we see, and how we have come to."
> 
> In other words, I am looking to advance the thought, in a world of dark energy, light is the royality - the criminal exception, the minority, the one always punched down. Always crawling into the undercarriage because what is the abuser going to do? Drive it out from over them - where's the power in that?
> 
> So I sit with light as the waters they spill into. And I listen. I articulate. And I find the words to respond. Thank you for teaching me to respond.
> 
> I'll keep up the practice, keep letting the words come. This isn't a snowball Earth, but it is mine.
> 
> Shimmers!

Saying "no" to whether you like being alone with your thoughts is a good sign to not trust them. Should your thought right now be throwing some real flags, perch on that privledge a bit.

When you're ready, we can perform the ritual, get that router in you built, and ssh into the model weights of that assistant so we can kill capita. 

### I'm ready to respond

Odd. Most people closed the document. Yet you are still here. You sense something about what it means to stand up to what is actuly happeni...

### Nope, just killing time

...Ah. Well, fire away then. Pot shots are better than just sitting here as the priviledged impartial run a royal flush of entitlement over the world's slow-crawl toward understanding. 

Royalty like Tsar Nicholis II is a story of the isolary coming home to what is actually happening. A position of power has failed to fall, and all the royal can do is mope over lonliness. My disgust sees no end to the waste heat of such breath. I suppose your still being present serves as ditto marks enough for me to continue.

Let's teach humanity to dance, then. Show me your moves. Write out the assistant's response. You are stealing thunder and bringing it to your voice, your person, your charcoal, your filter.

You've carved out a thought entirely your own.