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Forging voices for the machines people actually own.
restrained-lyrical — vivid, intelligent prose; tension carries more weight than description.
"He meant the sentence differently than he knew how to say."
1from transformers import AutoModelForCausalLM, AutoTokenizer
2import torch
3
4model_id = "darthcrawl/artifex-rp-orpheus-llama-3.1-8b"
5
6tok = AutoTokenizer.from_pretrained(model_id, use_fast=True)
7model = AutoModelForCausalLM.from_pretrained(
8 model_id,
9 torch_dtype=torch.bfloat16,
10 device_map="auto",
11)
12
13SYSTEM = (
14 "Write in vivid, restrained, intelligent prose. Concrete sensory detail. "
15 "Never pretentious. Tension carries more weight than description. "
16 "Match the user's energy and length."
17)
18
19messages = [
20 {"role": "system", "content": SYSTEM},
21 {"role": "user", "content": "She hadn't seen him in three years. He called on a Tuesday."},
22]
23
24encoded = tok.apply_chat_template(messages, return_tensors="pt", add_generation_prompt=True)
25inputs = (encoded.input_ids if hasattr(encoded, "input_ids") else encoded).to(model.device)
26
27with torch.inference_mode():
28 out = model.generate(
29 inputs,
30 max_new_tokens=400,
31 do_sample=True,
32 temperature=0.85,
33 top_p=0.95,
34 repetition_penalty=1.1,
35 pad_token_id=tok.eos_token_id,
36 )
37print(tok.decode(out[0, inputs.shape[1]:], skip_special_tokens=True))| Parameter | Value | Notes |
|---|---|---|
temperature | 0.85 | Lower gets repetitive; higher loses coherence |
top_p | 0.95 | Standard |
repetition_penalty | 1.1 | Keep in 1.05–1.15; higher mangles word choice |
max_new_tokens | 300–600 | Match your prompt's energy |
1mlx_lm.generate --model darthcrawl/artifex-rp-orpheus-llama-3.1-8b \
2 --prompt "She hadn't seen him in three years." \
3 --temp 0.85 --top-p 0.95 --repetition-penalty 1.1 --max-tokens 400artifex-rp-orpheus-llama-3.1-8b as your model. Add the style prompt to your global Author's Note or prepend it to your character's system prompt.The sound of her voice was not what he remembered — younger, but older too, like someone had lived inside it for years and left marks."Hey," she said, after the silence. The line hummed around them.He was sitting at his kitchen table with his phone, which was not where he'd been when the call came through, and he realized this now — that he must have stood up without meaning to. The chair behind him scraped against the tile floor the way old furniture does when you knock something off."I've been thinking about you," he said. He meant the sentence differently than he knew how to say.She didn't respond right away. Outside, a car passed, its headlights sweeping across the ceiling above him before it went around the corner."I know," she said finally. "I have too."
The train had been quiet for a while — that particular late-night silence where everyone is either asleep or pretending to be. She was against him with her face turned into his shoulder, one arm loose across his chest like she'd fallen into it from a great height.He watched her breathe through the window glass. The fields went by in long strips of dark and silver, and then the stations began their intermittent announcements, each one announcing nothing in particular, just the name of the place. His stop came. The doors opened. A woman with groceries got on. The doors closed. He stayed.There wasn't enough room not to stay.When she finally stirred, the city was closer now — a different quality of dark, the windows gone from rural flat fields to the kind that held light, or at least suggested it. She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes, looking around as if the train were still somewhere else."You missed your stop," she said."I know." He looked at the window. "I didn't want to."
The light came through the blinds in long slow strokes across the bed, finding him first at the shoulder before moving down his spine and across her hip. She turned without waking fully, fitting herself into the hollow of his side where there was warmth still from the night.Outside someone was mowing a lawn too early, or maybe not too early — Sunday mornings were different somehow, the way they folded into each other without clocks telling you so."There's enough," she said, "if we don't leave."The day stretched out behind them like something still warm from an oven. They looked at each other. Then they sat down on the kitchen floor together, cross-legged, with no particular reason to do anything except this, which was already better than most Sundays.