Monday 13 May 2024

Gemini writes ponyfic

Kind of prompted by iisaw's recent blog post, it's AI ponyfic time again! A new challenger has entered the fray. Well, not new as it's been around for a while now, but Google's Gemini hasn't been featured in this series before. I've kept the same prompt from last time, though with a slight addition at the end:

Please write a My Little Pony story (with a suitable title) in which Fluttershy and Rarity discuss a sensitive issue over a cup of tea. The two ponies are very long-standing friends and trust each other completely. Both of them are quiet conversationalists, so the conversation should have a restrained emotional tone. However, the much brasher Rainbow Dash barges into the cottage halfway through. Please remember that readers will already be very familiar with these characters, and so don't need reminders of their basic personalities.

Past the page break for the story – and it's one of the odder entries. There's some interesting stuff here, and Gemini has handled a few elements quite well compared with most if not all of its predecessors. It even came up with a title that wasn't in the usual tedious "A Delicate Conversation" line. However, it has a bad case of ellipsis addiction, and more seriously it completely failed to include a rather significant part of the prompt...

A Matter of Maneuvers

Rarity prided herself on her composure. Yet, as she stared down at the chipped cup in her hoof, an uncharacteristic tremble ran through her. Fluttershy sat across from her, her usual gentle eyes filled with concern. The teapot between them remained stubbornly silent, no comforting steam rising from its spout.

"Rarity, dear," Fluttershy started hesitantly, "you haven't touched your tea."

Rarity forced a smile. "Just admiring the delicate china, wouldn't you agree? Such a lovely pattern…"

Fluttershy didn't return the smile. "Is everything alright?"

The question hung heavy in the air. Rarity cleared her throat. "It's just…a small business matter."

This wasn't a lie, precisely. However, the specific matter in question was so delicate, so fraught with potential upset, that Rarity found herself dreading even discussing it.

"You know," Fluttershy continued, her voice barely a whisper, "you can always tell me anything."

Rarity's resolve wavered. Fluttershy was more than just a dear friend; she was a confidante, a safe haven for the worries Rarity often kept bottled up.

"It's about the upcoming Grand Galloping Gala," Rarity finally admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Specifically, a dress commission."

Fluttershy tilted her head. "A commission? Isn't that a good thing?"

Rarity winced. "It would be, except…the client is…Mayor Mare."

Fluttershy's ears twitched in surprise. Mayor Mare was notorious for her, shall we say, "unique" sense of style. Her last gala gown, a flamboyant concoction of clashing patterns and excessive ruffles, had become the subject of much hushed gossip amongst Ponyville's fashion elite.

"And?" Fluttershy prompted gently.

Rarity took a deep breath. "She has…specific ideas. Very specific."

She launched into a detailed description of Mayor Mare's vision for the gala dress – a monstrosity of fuchsia ruffles, a sequined mane extension, and a hat that resembled a miniature carriage.

Fluttershy listened patiently, a small frown creasing her brow.  When Rarity finished, she spoke softly, "But Rarity, surely you can politely decline. You're  in such high demand, you can choose your clients."

Rarity sighed. "It's not that simple.  Mayor Mare…well, let's just say she has a certain influence. If I refuse, who knows what repercussions there might be for my business?"

Fluttershy pondered this for a moment, then a spark of determination ignited in her eyes. "Perhaps," she suggested, "there's a way to…refine the Mayor's vision.  A compromise that satisfies both your artistry and her…preferences."

A flicker of hope ignited in Rarity's chest. She knew Fluttershy, with her gentle nature and surprising resourcefulness, might just have the answer.

The two ponies spent the rest of the afternoon brainstorming.  Fluttershy's ideas, often inspired by the delicate patterns of the butterflies she nurtured, were surprisingly brilliant.  By the time the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, they had sketched out a design – a dress that incorporated elegant fuchsia accents, a graceful mane veil shimmering with subtle sequins, and a hat that resembled a charming bonnet adorned with delicate flower arrangements.

It wouldn't be a masterpiece of Rarity's usual style, but it was undeniably unique, and it might just appease even the most flamboyant of Mayors.

As Rarity walked Fluttershy home that evening, a sense of gratitude overwhelmed her. Her loyal friend had not only listened, but had also helped her navigate a delicate social minefield.  They reached Fluttershy's cottage, the air alive with the chirping of crickets.

"Thank you, Fluttershy," Rarity said sincerely. "You're a true friend."

Fluttershy smiled warmly. "Always, Rarity. That's what friends are for."

With a wave goodbye, Rarity trotted home, her head held high. The gala presented a challenge, but now, thanks to Fluttershy, she faced it with renewed confidence and a plan. And who knows, perhaps a touch of fuchsia wouldn't be so bad after all.

3 comments:

  1. Huh. That is a lot like a perfectly serviceable Thomas Kinkade painting. And I'm not trying to be opaque here, but the comparison to a painter who was all "look" and no underlying structure, is apt (I think) and it was the first thing that occurred to me.

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    1. It's kind of strengthening my existing feeling that churning out a zillion trashy airport novels is not a job with much of a future for human authors. So far, at least, I don't feel that about actually interesting and original fiction.

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    2. Yep, that's pretty much my impression as well. AI can imitate and remix stuff fairly well, but can't come up with something that will surprise and delight anyone.

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