Follow along with the video below to see how to install our site as a web app on your home screen.
Note: This feature may not be available in some browsers.
LewdCorner Update
For now, mime and apollo have full control over LC and will be handling site decisions going forward.
I’m stepping back from making site changes for now and letting them decide how to move LC forward.
- Jack Of Blades
I think this AI is incredibly good. I just tested it with a few quick hints.
Who can figure out what world this story takes place in without opening the spoiler? Haha!
AI Story
Scene start: I want to play the main role in this story, and it should take place in the world of Dark. Yes, all the other characters are included, except that I'm playing Jonas, and the infinite loops aren't yet locked in, but are just developing. The plot can deviate from the story. Only the general setting and the characters should come from there.
You're jolted awake not by the alarm clock's blare, but by the sharp, rhythmic *tap-tap-tapping* of rain against your bedroom window. Windhaven's perpetual autumn chill seeps through the glass, making you pull the thin blanket tighter. Outside, the grey light of a Winden dawn barely penetrates the thick mist clinging to the forest beyond the backyard. "Jonas!" Your mother's voice, muffled but urgent, drifts up the stairs. "Hurry down, love. Ulrich stopped by – he says there's... something at the cave entrance again. Fresh markings." The familiar knot of dread twists in your stomach, heavier this time. Yesterday, you'd swear you saw your own face reflected in the cave's damp, obsidian rock – but older, impossibly weary. The loops aren't fixed yet; they're shifting, breathing. And you're caught right in the middle.
Jonas wants to know how Martha feels about this. So he goes to see her in the house.
You find Martha already in the kitchen, her fingers tracing the edge of an old photograph of Mikkel—her brother, your father—that she keeps tucked in her journal. She looks up as you enter, her eyes shadowed with the same restless energy that’s been haunting Winden. "Ulrich told you, didn’t he?" she murmurs, closing the journal with a soft thud. "The cave markings... they’re different this time. Not just the triquetra. There’s something else—a spiral, like the one on the pendant." Her voice drops, almost lost in the hiss of the kettle on the stove. "I went there before dawn. The air... it hummed, Jonas. Like the cave itself is waking up." She doesn’t say it, but you see the question in her eyes: *Are we changing it? Or is it changing us?* The silence stretches, heavy with the weight of unsaid things—the loops, the choices, the way her hand brushes yours as she passes you a mug of tea, warm but not enough to thaw the chill in your bones.
"Martha, should we see the cave? Just the two of us?" Jonas reaches for Martha's hand and greets her with a warm hug.
Martha's breath catches as you pull her into the hug, her journal slipping to the kitchen floor with a muffled thud. For a moment, she leans into the warmth, her cheek pressing against your shoulder, the scent of rain still clinging to her hair. "Just us," she echoes, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. Her fingers tighten around yours, not in fear, but in fierce resolve. "No Ulrich pacing, no Claudia's theories... just the truth." She bends to retrieve her journal, tucking the worn photo of Mikkel back inside. "But we go prepared this time," she adds, already moving toward the hallway closet. She pulls out two weathered headlamps—relics from childhood explorations—and hands you one, her expression grim. "Whatever’s humming in those tunnels today, we face it together." The unspoken weight hangs between you: *This spiral isn’t just on the cave wall. It’s in us now.*
"Okay, then let's get a flashlight and our rain gear and move on." While Jonas searches for the things he mentioned, Martha looks at him with an emotion too much to put into words. After gathering everything they needed, they left the house and headed toward the caves.
The headlamps cast shaky beams through the downpour as you and Martha push through the dripping ferns bordering the cave entrance. The spiral symbol Ulrich described glistens wet and fresh on the limestone, deeper than the old triquetra scars, pulsing with that same unnatural hum Martha felt earlier—a vibration that travels up your boots and settles in your molars. Martha's hand finds yours again, not for comfort but coordination, as she sweeps her light across the tunnel mouth. "Look," she whispers, voice barely audible over the drumming rain. The beam catches scattered objects just inside the darkness: a shattered wristwatch face glinting near a mossy boulder, a mud-smeared page from a physics textbook, and—further in—the distinct shape of a charcoal-gray hoodie sleeve snagged on jagged rock. Not yours. Not any you recognize from this timeline. The cave exhales a breath of damp earth and ozone, inviting and warning in the same ragged sigh.
"Everything okay, should we go?" Jonas asked Martha. She nodded, and they both went into the cave.
The cave swallows you both whole as you step beyond the threshold, the rain's drumming fading to a muffled echo behind you. Your headlamps carve trembling cones of light through the oppressive darkness, revealing damp walls slick with condensation. The hum Martha described isn't just sound now; it's a physical pressure against your skin, a low-frequency thrum that resonates in your chest cavity. The beam catches the torn hoodie sleeve more clearly – it’s soaked through, dark with more than just cave water. A few paces beyond it, Martha's light freezes on a patch of disturbed earth. Scuff marks lead deeper into the main tunnel, alongside a single, fresh boot print pressed into the mud – too large to belong to either of you. The air tastes metallic, sharp with ozone and the faint, coppery tang of blood. Martha grips your arm, her knuckles white. "That print... it wasn't there yesterday," she breathes, her voice tight. The tunnel ahead bends sharply left, the darkness beyond your lights feeling thick, watchful. The scattered textbook page lies nearby, its equations half-buried, the ink bleeding into the damp earth.
I tested several ai chats. my favorite online chat right now is janitor ai. its free and the quality of responses are alright. also chub.ai and characterhub.org are free and good for finding characters.
also tried perchance and it had its ups and down text quality wise. like all ai chats at the moment, the memory of the AI's are limited and conversations quite repetitive after a while. I am now trying to use and optimize my experience with silly tavern, but its a steep learning curve as a newbie and the results for the conversations are not optimal yet. does others here have experience with silly tavern?
