Stories, The Scions

The Scions – 11c

Autumn

“You know, Carol,” the captain said more quietly, growing somber as he stared into his own glass. “I expected you to be a sobbing mess by tonight. I have to say, I’m proud of you.”

She shrugged. “I’m not that pathetic.” She paused, then added, “Okay, I was, but not anymore.”

Lambert chuckled. “You know, when I first saw you, commander, I thought to myself … that’s not a woman, that’s a mouse!”

Holmes and the captain laughed heartily, and Hartmann faked joining in. He had a death grip on his glass, and judged that Lambert was pretending to be more intoxicated than he was – an experienced alcoholic like him wouldn’t become so loose-tongued with only one drink.

“Oh shut up! I don’t like how mean you are towards me,” Carol snapped.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a mouse.” Lambert poured out another round of drinks, and pushed one towards Carol. “Lot of men around here find it to be attractive quality in a woman.”

Danger alarms started sounding in Hartmann’s head, but he remained quiet and distant. Don’t mention me, he willed towards Carol. Forget I exist.

Her face turned bright red, helped along by the tequila. “I-I don’t know about that,” she stammered.

“Now that we know you can perform in battle, we can ease up on the training some. Maybe get you off base for a personal day.” Lambert sipped from his glass. “Go on, commander, have some more.”

Carol took another drink, but still shuddered afterwards. “What would I do off base?” she asked. “I don’t have a personal life to spend time on.”

“Really?” Lambert glanced over at Hartmann. “Not even a boyfriend?”

“No … I-I …” Carol took a big gulp of her drink, but Lambert waited patiently for her to finish. Realizing that he wasn’t going to become distracted, she sighed, then said wistfully, “I guess I was lonely.”

He then said quietly, “I’ve been wondering about you, commander. What sort of woman gets yanked out of her life without a word of complaint? I expected to hear nothing but bitching for weeks, but you went along with everything we put you through.”

Hartmann hated the way that Lambert was looking at her, and the fact that the captain was out-maneuvering him while he had to hold his tongue.

“The Suit was my everything.” She pressed a hand to her forehead, as if she wanted to steady herself. “Cleaning it was all I cared about.”

“You lived for your job, huh?” Lambert was studying her carefully. “I think we can all relate.”

The atmosphere around them had become subdued, or perhaps that was because of the storm raging inside of Hartmann had drowned everything else out. That sense of invisibility was creeping over him again.

“No, I don’t think anyone can understand how I feel about the Suit …” Carol slurred, then hunched over slightly at cross her arms over her stomach. “I feel sick.”

Lambert’s jaw twitched, but he pointed with his thumb and said, “Bathroom’s over there.” They watched as Carol stood and staggered her way over to the door, then Lambert gave his orders to Holmes, “Go stand guard. Make sure you can hear her, but don’t let her know that you’re there. No one else uses that restroom as long as she’s inside.”

“Yes, sir!” Holmes saluted, though his eyes looked disappointed.

“Well, MSG Hartmann,” Lambert picked up his glass and held it out. “It’s a shame you picked a rotgut for our first bottle. I could’ve gotten more out of her if you had gone with something smoother.”

“It was corporal Holmes’s choice, sir,” Hartmann answered carefully. “I didn’t think about how it would affect her,” he lied.

“Hmm.” Lambert’s eyes narrowed. “A toast then, to our first success. You should feel proud of yourself – you oversaw most of her training.”

“Sir, I had nothing to do with what happened out on the mission, today,” Hartmann murmured, almost sullenly, but he raised his glass as well. “It was all that ‘help mode.’”

“It doesn’t bode well that she kept it a secret from us …” Lambert finished his drink. “I’ll take Carol and corporal Holmes back to the Base, and I’m granting you the rest of the night off.”

“Thank you, sir,” Hartmann replied, unable to keep a hint of sarcasm out of his voice.

“Report to my office at 0600 tomorrow.” Lambert checked his watch. “I’ll give her a few more minutes to finish, then retrieve her.”

“I’m sorry for not being more considerate, sir.” Hartmann suppressed his smug smile. He felt a tinge of guilt over deliberately supplying Carol with something that was going to make her vomit, but it had worked out favorably enough – provided she didn’t get chatty on the drive home. He wished that he could push the issue and try to drive Carol back in his own car, but didn’t dare do anything that would increase Lambert’s suspicions.

The captain closed his eyes, his face relaxing into the creased weariness of an extremely long day. “Thank the gods this part is over.”

“I know what you mean, sir.” Hartmann leaned forward to pour himself another drink, then scanned the room. “I might try to put the moves on that hot blonde over there,” he motioned vaguely. “If I don’t decide to go home and sleep, instead.”

Lambert followed the direction of Hartmann’s gesture, then scowled. “I recommend you catch up on sleep.”

They exchanged terse and somewhat awkward farewells, and Lambert headed for the bathroom. A minute later he emerged with Carol, supporting her against his side, and Hartmann angrily watched them cross through the bar and out the front door, with Holmes trailing dutifully behind.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

art

ComfyUI and AI as an Art form

Autumn

ComfyUI

So, I’ve been resisting the urge to rant about how AI art is really blossoming into its own medium, and all of the alarmists out there are the equivalent of people ranting against the invention of the printing press back in the day — mostly because I don’t think I could maintain a polite tone.

Deal. With. It.

No, AI is never going to replace your experience as a human. I can’t even fathom what makes people think that’s possible …

So if you want to create art with pencils, brushes, or photoshop, you will still be able to create art with pencils, brushes, or photoshop. That’s not going anywhere, and plenty of people will still happily watch youtube art videos. Face it, art has never been a lucrative career path for the huge majority of artists throughout all of history — that’s why “starving artist” is a stereotype.

Me? I like creating art with words and AI.

The above screenshot is the user interface I use for Stable Diffusion, which, as you can see, is far more complicated than typing in, “magical Autumn forest”.

All of those settings in all of those boxes mean something — they are the difference between a beautiful picture and something totally broken — and ComfyUI lets you go even deeper than that.

I’ve spent the last six months learning how to write prompts, because the order of the words and even the punctuation in between them matters. I’ve also been learning what all of the settings do. Most of this only has a little bit of documentation because of how brand new the technology is, so the majority of my knowledge has come from trial and error.

Fails include:

And pretty soon here, SDXL 1.0 will be released and I’ll probably end up re-learning it all over again, ha ha.

It’s great though. I thoroughly enjoy AI art and the process of creating it. Not so thrilled with how many people are reacting negatively to a new technology, but go figure — people freaked out over every single technological advancement in all of history, and it didn’t stop the world from changing anyway.

art

AI Art – Alien Worlds

Autumn

Stable Diffusion XL is the hottest thing hitting the AI art world at the moment, and they still haven’t released the official 1.0 version to the public yet.

So, aside from a fancy new Stable Diffusion model, what’s different about these pictures?

Multi-phase generation.

Typically you type in a prompt, and you get an image. But with this updated format, you type in one prompt to generate an idea of an image, and a different prompt to fine tune it. The results are AMAZING.

Stories, The Scions

The Scions – 11b

Autumn

It was late evening when Lambert joined them in the cafeteria. Hartmann had dutifully kept his logbook, and to his relief, Carol had returned to her typical self bit by bit. Lambert was in a good mood, and he clamped a hand down on her shoulder as he proclaimed, “Our commander did a thorough job out there. She’s officially blooded now.”

More than can be said of you, Hartmann thought bitterly, inwardly bristling at the way the captain’s fingers slightly massaged her. Carol’s face turned bright red.

“I-I just did what I was supposed to, sir,” she stammered.

“Wish you had told us about that ‘help mode’ sooner; would’ve saved us all a lot of stress.” Lambert laughed. “C’mon, let’s go out and celebrate.”

From the captain’s boisterous attitude, Hartmann suspected he had already done some celebrating.

“I kind of just want to go to bed,” Carol protested, then shrank back from the look in Lambert’s eyes.

“Camaraderie, commander,” he half growled, half purred. “You’re one of us, now.”

“I’m in.” Hartmann stood and forced a half smile. “Bring that kid corporal along too. He knows what Carol’s normally like, so he should be included.”

“Great idea.” Lambert pulled the radio off his belt and gave orders for Holmes to meet with them in the parking garage.

They made the necessary arrangements, and Lambert drove off with Carol while Hartmann remained to wait for Holmes. Once alone, he let out an expletive and kicked the tire of his car, then took in a deep breath to regain self-control. Carol was a good as his, he reminded himself, so there was no harm in her spending time alone with the captain – Lambert was already suspicious of his interactions with Carol, so it was prudent to play distant anyway.

If he could have it his way, he’d lock Carol up in his apartment where she would play house for him alone, far away from all of this military bullshit.

It took only a few minutes for Holmes to come jogging, and a minute after that Hartmann was accelerating out of the parking garage with squealing tires. He made casual small talk to hide his anxiety, playing up nonchalance with a hint of machismo, repeating that he could have done a better job in the Suit to imply that he was insecure over Carol’s success. He didn’t care what Holmes thought, as long as the corporal didn’t guess that the real reason why he was speeding was because he was scared of leaving Carol alone with the captain, because even still he worried that there was a possibility of losing her to Lambert.

Lambert’s car was in the parking lot at the bar, but he and Carol were already inside. Hartmann winced slightly when he recognized the exterior as one of his hunting grounds, and silently chastised himself for not paying more attention when the captain had suggested the name. Had the choice been deliberate? Was it Lambert’s move in the competition for Carol’s attention? Was he hoping that Hartmann would be embarrassed by one of his former sluts?

Hartmann’s heart was pounding with anger. He kept his back tall and straight, and strode in through the doors, his jaw set as he scanned for the pair that he needed to keep apart at any cost. Carol was his, and he wasn’t going to stand for this bullshit from their commanding officer.

Carol waved at him from one of the tables, and Lambert turned to study him. Keep it cool, Hartmann breathed in and out. He would keep his facade up, and the evening would pass by without a hitch – he would see to that.

“Hey, corporal,” he said to Holmes who was standing slightly behind him. “What are you in the mood for? This round’s on me.”

Holmes grinned and answered a tequila brand that hit like a punch to the gut, but was popular with the younger soldiers. Hartmann bit back the urge to point out that Carol would be drinking along with them, and instead slapped Holmes’s shoulder and laughed, “Coming right up!” A moment later, he plopped himself down at the table with a bottle and four glasses, and poured an inch of liquid into each one.

“Um, sir, I’m not so sure about this …” Carol began to protest, but Lambert wouldn’t hear it.

“You fight with us, you drink with us. Loosen up and celebrate, commander, your cherry’s been popped.”

“Captain!” Carol’s face turned bright red. “That’s not an appropriate thing to say.”

All three of the men burst into laughter, and Holmes exclaimed, “Carol, you’re a hoot!” as she looked around, confused and uncomfortable.

“Drink!” Lambert ordered. “We’ll find a way to work that stick out, one way or another.”

Her eyes met Hartmann’s, as if she was seeking his help. He picked up his glass and said, “Here’s to the cleaning lady, for surprising us all.”

She took the cue, and sipped some of the alcohol, instantly coughing as a shudder ran through her. “Oh god, that’s strong,” she gasped.

Lambert laughed and gave Carol a strong pat on the back. “Finish it all, commander. Be a good girl.”

Hartmann wondered what was going through the captain’s mind. Carol was clearly struggling with the potency of the alcohol, and she was already showing signs of being tipsy. But, after she choked down her first glass, Lambert poured her another.