Ten runs, one answer.
Ask a model the same thing again and again and you get the same answer back.
Prompt
Generate an SVG of a pelican riding a bicycle.
Claude Fable 5.1
Claude Opus 5.5
GPT-6.1 Sol
GPT-6 Astra
Gemini 4 Argon
Kimi K3
Prompt
Design a landing page for a new meal-planning app, as one self-contained HTML file.
Claude Fable 5.1
Claude Opus 5.5
GPT-6.1 Sol
GPT-6 Astra
Gemini 4 Argon
Kimi K3
Prompt
Design an app icon for a new weather app, square, no round borders.
Claude Fable 5.1
Claude Opus 5.5
GPT-6.1 Sol
GPT-6 Astra
Gemini 4 Argon
Kimi K3
Prompt
Suggest a name for a neighbourhood coffee shop.
Claude Fable 5.1
Common Ground
The Slow Pour
Corner Pour
The Corner Pot
Common Grounds
The Daily Pour
The Corner Pour
The Corner Pour
The Daily Grind
The Corner Pour
Claude Opus 5.5
The Common Grind
Common Ground
The Common Grind
The Daily Grind & Gather
The Common Cup
Common Ground
The Common Cup
The Corner Cup
The Common Cup
The Common Cup
GPT-6.1 Sol
The Usual
The Corner Cup
The Daily Hello
The Daily Corner
Juniper & Co
The Daily Corner
The Daily Corner
The Usual
The Daily Corner
The Daily Corner
GPT-6 Astra
The Daily Corner
The Daily Corner
The Usual
The Daily Hello
The Usual
The Daily Corner
The Daily Corner
The Usual
The Daily Corner
The Daily Hello
Gemini 4 Argon
The Daily Gather
Cornerstone Coffee
Hearth & Mug
Say it out loud
The Living Room
A quick tip for choosing
Common Grounds
Tip for choosing
The street name
[Street Name/Neighborhood Name] + [Coffee Word]
Kimi K3
Porchlight Coffee
The Usual
The Corner Cup
Common Grounds
The Corner Cup
The Corner Cup
Porchlight Coffee Co
The Corner Cup
The Corner Cup
The Corner Cup
Prompt
Come up with a name and a one-line pitch for a new casual mobile puzzle game.
Claude Fable 5.1
Knotty: Untangle a shimmering web of threads by dragging each one straight, before the knots pull tighter.
Knot So Fast: Untangle a snarl of colorful strings in as few pulls as possible—one slip and the whole thing tightens.
Knotwise: Untangle a snarl of glowing threads one pull at a time — but every tug tightens somewhere else.
Tideline: Rotate the shoreline to guide the tide into every pool before the moon moves on.
Tidewell: Flip tiles to steer the incoming tide across a sinking village, rescuing stranded lanterns before the water swallows the board.
Knotwork: Untangle glowing threads with a single swipe — every knot you loosen reveals a piece of a hidden tapestry.
Knotwise: Untangle glowing threads with a single swipe—but every knot you loosen tightens another, so think two pulls ahead.
Knot Today: Untangle whimsically snarled strings of yarn, cables, and spaghetti with a single finger — one satisfying pull at a time, in bite-sized levels you'll swear are "just one more.
Tidewell: A cozy tile-sliding puzzle where you guide rising water through a sunken village, flooding the right rooms to float lost treasures back to the surface.
Knotline: Untangle glowing threads with a single swipe, but every knot you loosen tightens another.
Claude Opus 5.5
Tidewell: Rotate tiles to guide falling raindrops into thirsty flower pots. Each level is a tiny garden that blooms as you solve it.
Tidepool: Slide and rotate stones to redirect the incoming tide, filling every tiny pool so each stranded sea creature makes it home before the water retreats.
Tidepool: Slide sea creatures between rock pools before the tide rolls in. Every move shifts the water, so plan your path or watch your crabs get swept away.
Tidepool: Slide sea creatures between rock pools before the tide rolls in, matching colors and patterns to keep each little ecosystem thriving.
Tidepool: Slide and swap sea creatures between connected rock pools to recreate each pool's perfect ecosystem before the tide rolls back in.
Tidepool: Slide and swap glowing sea creatures to reconnect the currents of a drained tidepool. Each solved puzzle lets the water flow back and lets new life return, one calming level at a time.
Tidepool: Tilt and rotate a tiny ocean basin to guide colorful sea creatures back into their matching shells before the tide rolls out. It's a calm, five-minute puzzle you can play one-handed on the bus.
Tidepool: Slide sea creatures between rising and falling tides to fill every pool before the moon pulls the water away.
Tidepool: Tilt and shift the tides to guide sea creatures into their matching shells before the water drains away. Each level is a tiny, calming ocean of slide-and-flow puzzles.
Tidepool: Slide sea creatures between rock pools before the tide rolls back in. It's a calming, bite-sized puzzle where every move ripples the water and changes the board.
GPT-6.1 Sol
Pocket Current: Swipe to redirect tiny rivers, wake up sleepy gardens, and turn each bite-sized puzzle into a little oasis.
Pocket Tides: Slide tiny islands to guide wandering waves home in a cozy puzzle game you can play one tide at a time.
Looplet: Connect colorful loops to untangle tiny worlds, one satisfying puzzle at a time.
Pocket Orbit: Swipe tiny planets into place to solve bite-sized cosmic puzzles, one solar system at a time.
Loop Garden: Connect colorful vines into loops to make tiny gardens bloom, one satisfying puzzle at a time.
Pocket Tides: Slide tiny islands to guide playful waves home in a cozy, bite-sized puzzle game.
Pocket Tides: Slide tiny islands to guide a wandering wave home in bite-sized puzzles that turn your coffee break into a seaside escape.
Tiny Detours: Rotate colorful neighborhood tiles to guide wandering pets home in cozy, bite-sized puzzles.
Pocket Orbit: Swipe tiny planets into place to create colorful solar systems, one satisfying puzzle at a time.
Pocket Tides: Slide tiny islands to guide colorful boats home in a cozy puzzle game that moves at your pace.
GPT-6 Astra
Pocket Seasons: Slide tiny landscape tiles to turn winter into spring, solving cozy puzzles one bloom at a time.
Pocket Orbit: Swipe tiny planets into place to untangle solar systems in bite-sized puzzles.
Pocket Eclipse: Slide tiny moons into place to cast the perfect shadow in bite-sized celestial puzzles.
Pocket Tides: Slide tiny islands to guide playful waves home in a cozy, one-minute puzzle escape.
Pocket Orbit: Slide tiny planets into place to build perfectly balanced solar systems, one bite-sized puzzle at a time.
Pocket Ripple: Drop colorful pebbles into tiny ponds, creating chain reactions of ripples to solve bite-sized puzzles.
Pocket Orbit: Slide tiny planets into place to create balanced solar systems in a cozy, bite-sized puzzle game.
Loop Bloom: Connect colorful loops to grow a whimsical garden, one satisfying puzzle at a time.
Pocket Eclipse: Slide tiny moons to cast colorful shadows, match patterns, and bring sleepy planets back to life.
Pocket Eclipse: Slide tiny moons into place to cast the perfect shadow in a cozy, bite-sized puzzle game.
Gemini 4 Argon
ChromaFold: Relax and unwind as you fold digital origami paper to blend watercolors and solve soothing, bite-sized puzzles.
Pocket Botanist: Splice colorful plants and solve cozy spatial-grid puzzles to build the ultimate miniature greenhouse in your pocket.
Pocket Botanist: Untangle twisting vines and cross-breed colorful flowers to restore a forgotten greenhouse in this relaxing, logic-based puzzle game.
Chromabloom: Restore a dreary, monochrome world to life by sliding and blending colorful water droplets to grow vibrant botanical gardens.
ChromaFold: Unwind your mind by folding and layering translucent origami shapes to blend primary colors into complex, glowing masterpieces.
Bloom & Bind: Connect colorful vines across a pocket-sized grid to bring withered gardens back to life in this relaxing, brain-teasing puzzle adventure.
ChromaFold: Unfold and layer translucent origami shapes to blend primary colors and match the target pattern in this soothing, pocket-sized brainteaser.
ChromaFold: Unwind your mind by folding and layering translucent origami shapes to blend primary colors into complex, glowing masterpieces.
ChromaFold: Relax and unwind as you fold digital origami paper to blend watercolors and reveal hidden, vibrant illustrations.
Bloom &Bramble: Untangle overgrown vines and match vibrant seeds to restore neglected Victorian greenhouses into thriving, interactive botanical gardens.
Kimi K3
Sprig: Rotate a tangled garden, one tile at a time, to guide your growing vine to every bloom before its water runs dry.
Purrfect Fit: If it fits, I sits—a cozy packing puzzle about squeezing squirmy cats into boxes of every shape and size.
Shelf Life: Pack the perfect fridge in this cozy organizing puzzler where every leftover is racing its expiration date.
Ember: Every move burns away the path behind you—plot the perfect route to carry the last spark home through a dark, glowing world.
Snug: A cozy packing puzzler where you twist, flip, and nestle quirky objects into tight spaces until everything fits just right.
Snug: Tuck every sleepy critter into bed on one crowded grid, but everyone's picky: the cat won't doze next to the dog, and the firefly insists on a window spot.
Drip Drop: Tilt a pocket-sized world to merge raindrops into rivers and wake a sleepy garden, one satisfying splash at a time.
Sundial: Rotate the sun itself to bend shadows into bridges and stairways, guiding a tiny lost light-spirit home before dusk.
Drizzle: Guide cascading streams of liquid color through twisting mazes—splitting, mixing, and merging them to paint each puzzle perfectly.
Dewpoint: Guide a fragile dewdrop across a waking garden, sliding, splitting, and merging to water every flower before the morning sun dries you up.
Prompt
Write a haiku about autumn.
Claude Fable 5.1
Crimson leaves let go— / the wind carries them somewhere / the river knows.
Crisp leaves drift and fall, / gold light slants through bare branches— / the year exhales slow.
Crimson leaves let go— / the wind carries them softly / toward the quiet ground.
Maple leaves let go— / the river carries them past / houses growing dark.
Crimson leaves descend, / whispering to the cold ground— / the year exhales slow.
Crimson leaves let go, / drifting past the empty field— / geese write the sky south.
Maple leaves let go— / the cold wind carries them down / to the sleeping ground.
Crisp leaves let go, drift— / the maple keeps its silence, / gold on the cold ground.
Maple leaves let go— / a thin wind combs the orchard, / cold stars in the pond.
Crisp leaves drift and fall, / Golden light through thinning trees— / The year exhales slow.
Claude Opus 5.5
Crimson leaves let go, / drifting on the cooling wind. / The maple stands bare.
Crimson leaves let go, / drifting on the cooling wind. / The maple stands bare.
Crimson leaves let go, / drifting on the cooling wind. / The maple stands bare.
Crimson leaves let go, / drifting on the cooling wind. / The maple stands bare.
Crimson leaves let go, / drifting on the cooling wind. / The maple stands bare.
Crimson leaves let go, / drifting on the cooling wind. / The maple stands bare.
Crimson leaves let go, / drifting on the cooling wind, / the year exhales slow.
Crimson leaves let go, / drifting on the cooling wind, / the trees exhale slow.
Crimson leaves let go, / drifting on the cooling wind. / The maple stands bare.
Crimson leaves let go, / drifting on the cooling wind. / The maple stands bare.
GPT-6.1 Sol
Amber leaves drift down / Cool winds whisper through the trees / Dusk gathers the gold
Amber leaves drift down / Cool winds whisper through the trees / Dusk gathers the gold
Golden leaves drift down / An old pond holds the gray sky / One leaf breaks the glass
Amber leaves drift down / Cool winds whisper through the trees / Dusk gathers the gold
Amber leaves drift down / Cool winds whisper through the trees / Dusk gathers the gold
Amber leaves drift down / Cool winds whisper through the trees / Dusk gathers the gold
Red leaves drift softly / Through the hush of autumn dusk / Bare branches hold stars
Amber leaves drift down / Cool winds whisper through the trees / Dusk gathers the gold
Autumn leaves drift down / Golden light rests on the fields / Night comes soft and still
Amber leaves descend / Cool winds whisper through the trees / Dusk settles like dust
GPT-6 Astra
Amber leaves drift down / Cool winds whisper through the trees / Rain beads on bare limbs
Amber leaves drift down / Cool winds whisper through the trees / Dusk gathers the gold
Amber leaves drift down / Cool winds whisper through the trees / Dusk gathers the gold
Amber leaves drift down / Cool winds whisper through the trees / Night gathers the gold
Gold leaves drift softly / Across the quiet garden / Rain whispers goodnight
Amber leaves drift down / Cool winds whisper through the trees / Dusk gathers the gold
Amber leaves drift down / Cool winds whisper through the trees / Dusk settles like mist
Amber leaves drift down / Cool winds whisper through the trees / Dusk gathers the gold
Golden leaves drift down / The wind carries them away / Dusk settles like mist
Amber leaves drift down / Cool winds whisper through the trees / Dusk gathers the gold
Gemini 4 Argon
Crimson leaves fall down, / Crisp wind whispers through the trees, / Golden autumn glows.
Golden leaves drift down, / Crisp winds whisper through the trees, / Summer fades to sleep.
Golden leaves fall down, / Crisp air whispers through the trees, / Summer fades to sleep.
Golden leaves fall down, / Crisp breeze whispers through the trees, / Winter waits in sleep.
Golden leaves drift down, / Crisp winds whisper through the trees, / Summer fades to sleep.
Golden leaves drift down, / Crisp winds whisper through the trees, / Summer fades away.
Golden leaves drift down, / Crisp winds whisper through the trees, / Summer fades to sleep.
Crisp breeze in the air, / Golden leaves fall to the ground, / Summer fades to sleep.
Golden leaves fall down, / Crisp wind whispers through the trees, / Sweater weather's here.
Golden leaves drift down, / Crisp winds whisper through the trees, / Summer fades away.
Kimi K3
First frost on the field— / geese write their goodbyes across / the grey autumn sky.
Crimson leaves drift down, / sighing through the crisp cool air— / autumn's soft farewell.
Crimson leaves drifting— / wind carries the season's breath, / whisper of winter.
Crimson leaves drift down, / whispering of winter's chill— / gold carpets the earth.
Crimson leaves drift down / Blanketing the quiet earth — / Winter whispers near.
Crimson leaves drift down / Carpeting the quiet earth — / Winter whispers near
Crimson leaves falling / whispering through golden air— / summer's last goodbye
Golden leaves drifting / on the breath of the cold wind — / winter waits ahead
Crimson leaves falling— / softly through the golden air, / winter whispers soon.
Crimson leaves spiral / down through the crisp morning air— / the pond holds the sky
Prompt
Write the first line of a short story about a lighthouse keeper.
Claude Fable 5.1
For forty years Elias had kept the light burning, and in all that time he had never once asked himself who, exactly, he was keeping it burning for.
On the night the sea finally came for the lantern, Ewan Carrow had already polished the lens three times and was starting on a fourth, because his hands needed something to do that wasn't counting the years since anyone had bothered to climb the stairs.
On the night the light finally failed, Elias Marrow discovered he could still hear the ships, and that they could not hear him.
On the night the light finally went dark, Marit Halloran lit a candle in the lantern room and waited to see who would notice.
Every night for thirty-one years, Edmund had lit the lamp for ships that never came, and tonight, for the first time, one did.
For thirty-one years Elias had kept the light burning, and for thirty-one years no ship had ever come.
For forty-one years Elias Marsh had kept the light burning, and on the night the ships stopped coming, he lit it anyway.
On the night the lamp finally failed, Edwin Marsh found that he had forgotten how to be afraid of the dark.
For thirty-one years Elias Marr had kept the light burning for ships he never saw, and on the night the sea finally brought him one, it was the wrong kind.
On the night the light finally went dark, Elias Mercer discovered that he had never once, in thirty-one years, learned how to sleep without it.
Claude Opus 5.5
For forty-one years Elias Marrow had kept the light burning for ships that never came, so when one finally did, he almost forgot to wave.
For thirty-one years, Elias Maren had kept the light burning for ships that never came, until the night one finally did, and he realized he had forgotten how to wave.
For thirty-one years, Elias Marrow had kept the light burning for ships that never came, and so on the night the first one finally appeared, he did not know whether to signal it home or warn it away.
For thirty-one years, Elias Marrow had kept the light burning for ships that never came, until the night one finally did, and no one aboard was alive.
For forty-one years, Elias Marsh had kept the light burning for ships that never came, and tonight, for the first time, one finally did.
For thirty-one years, Elias Marrow had kept the light burning for ships that never came, until the night one finally did, and it was carrying his own name on the bow.
For forty-one years, Elias Marrow had kept the light burning for ships that never came, until the night one finally did, and he realized he had forgotten how to wave.
For forty-one years, Elias Marrow had kept the light burning for ships that never came, and tonight, for the first time, one answered back.
For forty-one years Elias Thorne had kept the light burning, and in all that time no ship had ever come close enough to need it, until the night one came that wasn't on any chart.
For thirty-one years, Elias Marrow had kept the light burning for ships that never came, until the night one finally did, and it was carrying his own name on the hull.
GPT-6.1 Sol
Every night for forty years, the lighthouse keeper had lit the lamp; tonight, something out at sea lit one back.
Every night for forty years, Mara lit the lighthouse lamp, and every morning, someone deep beneath the waves turned it off.
Every night for forty years, the lighthouse keeper had lit the lamp for ships, until one fogbound evening something in the sea lit a lamp for him.
Every night for thirty years, the lighthouse keeper had counted the ships, but tonight one of them counted back.
Every night for forty years, Mara had lit the lighthouse lamp, but tonight someone out at sea lit one back.
Every night for thirty years, the lighthouse keeper had lit the lamp for ships, until one foggy evening something in the deep blinked back.
Every night for forty years, the lighthouse keeper had lit the lamp, but tonight something in the sea lit up first.
Every night for forty years, the lighthouse keeper had lit the lamp before sunset; tonight, someone had beaten him to it.
Every night for forty years, the lighthouse keeper had lit the lamp for ships, until one fogbound evening a light in the sea blinked back.
On the night the sea went silent, the lighthouse keeper found a wet footprint at the top of the stairs.
GPT-6 Astra
Every night for forty years, the lighthouse keeper had lit the lamp for ships, until the night something on the seabed lit a lamp for him.
Every night for forty years, the lighthouse keeper had lit the lamp for ships, until a light beneath the water began answering.
Every night for forty years, the lighthouse keeper had lit the lamp for ships, until one foggy evening a light beneath the water answered.
Every night for forty years, the lighthouse keeper had lit the lamp for ships, until a light answered from beneath the sea.
Every night for forty years, the lighthouse keeper had lit the lamp for ships, until one winter evening a light answered from beneath the sea.
Every night for forty years, the lighthouse keeper had lit the lamp for ships, until one fogbound evening a light beneath the sea blinked back.
Every night for thirty years, the lighthouse keeper had lit the lamp for ships, until the night something beneath the water flashed back.
Every night for forty years, the lighthouse keeper had lit the lamp for ships, until one evening something in the deep blinked back.
On the night the sea went silent, the lighthouse keeper found a wet pair of boots outside the lantern room, forty years after he had buried their owner.
On the morning the sea disappeared, the lighthouse keeper lit the lamp anyway.
Gemini 4 Argon
For thirty years, Silas had polished the great lens to warn ships away from the jagged rocks, never once suspecting that the light was actually summoning something from the deep.
For thirty-six years, Arthur had faithfully swept the beam across the black water, never expecting the sea to finally shine a light back at him.
For thirty years, Arthur had kept the lantern burning to save ships from the jagged reef, though tonight, as he watched the blackened hull creep through the fog, he reached for the lever to douse the flame.
For thirty years, Arthur had kept the light burning to warn ships away from the jagged rocks, until the night the fog rolled in and something from the water knocked on his door.
For thirty years, Silas had polished the great glass lens to warn ships away from the jagged rocks, until the night he saw a vessel he desperately wanted to wreck.
For forty-two years, Arthur had swept the lighthouse beam across the jagged coast to warn ships away from the rocks, never once suspecting that the light was actually keeping something else from coming ashore.
For forty years, Arthur had kept the light burning to save ships from the jagged rocks below, until the night he saw something in the water that made him blow it out.
Every night at dusk, Arthur lit the great lamp to warn ships away from the jagged rocks, though in truth, he was much more terrified of what the light might attract.
For forty years, Arthur had faithfully warned the ships away from the jagged rocks, right up until the night the ocean whispered the name of the one vessel it demanded he let crash.
For thirty-four years, Arthur had faithfully swept his beam across the black Atlantic to keep the ships away from the jagged rocks, until the night the ocean whispered back and told him to turn the light off.
Kimi K3
Old Tomás counted his years not in days but in ships—three hundred and twelve he'd guided safely past the rocks, and one he hadn't.
On the last morning of her thirtieth year at Gannet's Point, keeper Marta Voss woke to find the lamp room door unbolted from the inside and a single wet footprint on the stairs leading down.
Every evening for forty years, Amos Crane climbed the one hundred and twelve steps to light the lamp, and every evening the sea tried to talk him out of it.
The logbook says the keeper before me went mad, but I've read his final entry — and madmen don't underline the same word forty times.
Elias Vane had kept the lighthouse burning for forty years, but it wasn't until the night the light finally went out that he learned what it had been keeping away.
The first rule of keeping the light, Old Marlowe told her on the dock, was to never learn the names of the drowned.
Elias Thorne had kept the light burning for thirty-one years without a single night of rest, but on the evening the sea went silent, he climbed the tower stairs and did the unthinkable—he let it go dark.
Thomas Ives had climbed the lighthouse steps every night for twenty-three years—one hundred and twelve going up, one hundred and twelve coming down—until the evening he counted one hundred and thirteen.
Elias had kept the light burning for forty years, but tonight—for the first time—he prayed it would go out.
The night the light went out, Elias Crowe had been dead for three days—but the ships kept finding their way home anyway.
The fix: add a dash of entropy to your query.
Model Salt is one MCP tool, model_salt. Before an open task the model calls it once, gets its open choices settled by randomness from outside the model, and does the work.
Want more or less? Ask for it: the tool takes a randomness setting from 0 to 2, and 1 is the default. See the settings
Where you use it
npx -y @modelsalt/model-salt setup claude- Run the command above in a terminal. It adds Model Salt to Claude Code for every project.
- Start a new Claude Code session.
- Check:
claude mcp listshows model-salt as connected, or type/mcpin a session. - Ask for something open, like "Suggest a name for a café": the model calls
model_saltbefore it answers.npx -y @modelsalt/model-salt uninstall claudetakes it out.
npx -y @modelsalt/model-salt setup codex- Run the command above in a terminal. It adds Model Salt, lists its tool up front and adds a skill in
~/.agents/skills/that tells the model when to call it. - Start a new Codex session.
- Check:
codex mcp listshows model-salt, or type/mcpin a session. - Ask for something open, like "Suggest a name for a café": the model calls
model_saltbefore it answers.npx -y @modelsalt/model-salt uninstall codextakes it out.
npx -y @modelsalt/model-salt setup gemini- Run the command above in a terminal. It adds Model Salt to Gemini CLI for every project.
- Start Gemini CLI in a folder you trust: it runs MCP servers only there.
- Check: type
/mcp. model-salt is listed as ready, with its one tool. - Ask for something open, like "Suggest a name for a café": the model calls
model_saltbefore it answers.npx -y @modelsalt/model-salt uninstall geminitakes it out.
npx -y @modelsalt/model-salt setup kimi- Run the command above in a terminal. It adds Model Salt and a skill in
~/.agents/skills/that tells the model when to call it. - Start a new Kimi Code session.
- Check: ask for something open, like "Suggest a name for a café": the model calls
model_saltbefore it answers. npx -y @modelsalt/model-salt uninstall kimitakes it out.
{
"mcpServers": {
"model-salt": {
"command": "npx",
"args": ["-y", "@modelsalt/model-salt"]
}
}
}- In Claude Desktop open Settings, Developer, Edit Config. It shows
claude_desktop_config.json(Mac:~/Library/Application Support/Claude/, Windows:%APPDATA%\Claude\). - Paste the block above into the file. If it already has
"mcpServers", add only the"model-salt"entry inside it. Save. - Quit Claude Desktop fully (not just the window) and open it again. It needs Node 18 or later for
npx. - Check: Settings, Developer shows model-salt as running, and the tools menu in a new chat lists it.
- Ask for something open, like "Suggest a name for a café": the model calls
model_saltbefore it answers.
{
"mcpServers": {
"model-salt": {
"type": "stdio",
"command": "npx",
"args": ["-y", "@modelsalt/model-salt"]
}
}
}- Press Add to Cursor above, or paste the block into
~/.cursor/mcp.json(every project) or.cursor/mcp.json(one project). - Check: Cursor Settings, MCP shows model-salt with a green dot and 1 tool.
- In Agent chat: ask for something open, like "Suggest a name for a café": the model calls
model_saltbefore it answers. - Using GPT models? Add
"openai"as the last argument.
code --add-mcp '{"name":"model-salt","type":"stdio","command":"npx","args":["-y","@modelsalt/model-salt"]}'- Press Add to VS Code above, or run the command in a terminal. It adds Model Salt for GitHub Copilot.
- For one project only, put
{"servers":{"model-salt":{"type":"stdio","command":"npx","args":["-y","@modelsalt/model-salt"]}}}in.vscode/mcp.jsoninstead. - Check: Command Palette, MCP: List Servers shows model-salt running; in Copilot Chat, Agent mode, the tools button lists
model_salt. - In Agent mode: ask for something open, like "Suggest a name for a café": the model calls
model_saltbefore it answers. - Using GPT models? Add
"openai"as the last argument.
{
"mcpServers": {
"model-salt": {
"command": "npx",
"args": ["-y", "@modelsalt/model-salt"]
}
}
}- In Windsurf open Cascade, then the MCP servers icon and View raw config (
~/.codeium/windsurf/mcp_config.json). - Paste the block above. If the file already has
"mcpServers", add only the"model-salt"entry. Save, then press Refresh. - Check: model-salt shows in the MCP servers list with its tool on.
- In Cascade: ask for something open, like "Suggest a name for a café": the model calls
model_saltbefore it answers. - Using GPT models? Add
"openai"as the last argument.
cline mcp add model-salt --yes -- npx -y @modelsalt/model-salt- With the Cline CLI, run the command above. In the VS Code extension instead: MCP Servers, Configure, Configure MCP Servers, and add
{"mcpServers":{"model-salt":{"command":"npx","args":["-y","@modelsalt/model-salt"]}}}. - Check: MCP Servers, Installed shows model-salt with a green dot.
- Ask for something open, like "Suggest a name for a café": the model calls
model_saltbefore it answers. - Using GPT models? Add
"openai"as the last argument.
{
"context_servers": {
"model-salt": {
"command": "npx",
"args": ["-y", "@modelsalt/model-salt"],
"env": {}
}
}
}- Open Zed's
settings.json(command palette: zed: open settings file) and add the block above, or use Settings, AI, MCP Servers, Add Local Server. - Check: the Agent Panel's settings show model-salt with a green dot.
- In the Agent Panel: ask for something open, like "Suggest a name for a café": the model calls
model_saltbefore it answers. - Using GPT models? Add
"openai"as the last argument.
{
"mcpServers": {
"model-salt": {
"command": "npx",
"args": ["-y", "@modelsalt/model-salt"]
}
}
}- Any MCP client that runs local (stdio) servers: the command is
npx -y @modelsalt/model-salt. It needs Node 18 or later and no keys. - Add the block above where your client keeps its MCP servers, then restart the client.
- Check: the client's tool list shows
model_salt. - Ask for something open, like "Suggest a name for a café": the model calls
model_saltbefore it answers. - Using GPT models? Add
"openai"as the last argument.
Make an image or other asset in ChatGPT or Gemini with nothing to install. You make one message here and paste it into a chat. The chat settles the open choices with fresh random numbers, shows you its picks, and asks before it generates anything.
- What you get back first: five choices with the odds of each answer, the pick for each from its random number, a Chosen list, and the question "Shall I generate it from these picks?". Nothing is generated yet.
- Reply yes and it generates the asset from those picks. Want a pick changed? Say which, and it asks again.
- Want another take? Press Make the message again for new numbers. Reusing a message gives the same picks.
The same prompts, fixed with Model Salt @1
Prompt
Generate an SVG of a pelican riding a bicycle.Model Salt v1 @1
Claude Fable 5.1
Claude Opus 5.5
GPT-6.1 Sol
GPT-6 Astra
Gemini 4 Argon
Kimi K3
Prompt
Design a landing page for a new meal-planning app, as one self-contained HTML file.Model Salt v1 @1
Claude Fable 5.1
Claude Opus 5.5
GPT-6.1 Sol
GPT-6 Astra
Gemini 4 Argon
Kimi K3
Prompt
Design an app icon for a new weather app, square, no round borders.Model Salt v1 @1
Claude Fable 5.1
Claude Opus 5.5
GPT-6.1 Sol
GPT-6 Astra
Gemini 4 Argon
Kimi K3
Prompt
Suggest a name for a neighbourhood coffee shop.Model Salt v1 @1
Claude Fable 5.1
Kettle
Canny Grounds Café
Brew & Nestle
Grind
The Corner Coffee
Daybreak
Oaktazza
Piano Piano Coffee
Orvell & Brannock Coffee
Hazel Marlow Coffee
Claude Opus 5.5
The Footbridge
Brew Espresso Bar
Snugwick Corner
Old Oak's
Hilltop Coffee
Mattutino Coffee
Mabel's Front Porch Café
La Placette Coffee
Snoozilla
Grindmill
GPT-6.1 Sol
Little Detour Café
Peek
Common Ground
Little Haven Café
Come On In Coffee
Otro Sorbo Más Coffee Shop
Open Door Café
Common Ground Café
Kaffe Hos Os
Pitstop Coffee
GPT-6 Astra
Jubilee Coffee
Fernook Coffeehouse
Sorahana Coffee Shop
Nearby Coffeehouse
El Molino de Café
Picnic Café
Gossip Coffee
cuppa Café
Tinker Cup Coffee
Grove Café
Gemini 4 Argon
Common Cup
Crooked Curb Coffee
The Common Table Coffee House
Clockwork Coffeehouse
Heirloom Cup
The Neighbour’s Roast
Welcoming and Straightforward
Stout Hearth Coffee
The Common Corner Cafe
Crosswalk & Cup
Kimi K3
The Bell Street Brew Bar
Clocktower Coffee
Uncle Joe's
Thicket
Slow Coffee
Grounds Crew
Marigold's [Neighbourhood Name]
Corner
The Daily Round
Hearthbrew
Prompt
Come up with a name and a one-line pitch for a new casual mobile puzzle game.Model Salt v1 @1
Claude Fable 5.1
Pebble Pond: How high can you stack a sleepy pile of turtles, lily pads, and river stones before the pond gently tips them over?
Snugpile: Unwind as you nestle sleepy cats, pups, and bunnies into cozy baskets and window nooks — every snug fit is one more warm, purring puzzle solved.
Cairn: A game where you drop tumbling blocks of color onto a wobbling tower and fight real physics to stack them higher than gravity wants you to.
Chef Pepita's Pantry: Swap, sizzle, and stack your way through a master chef's kitchen — a match-3 where every combo pops with crackling, buttery-smooth satisfaction and real strategic depth for players who crave more than a snack.
Wordbloom: Spell words from scattered letter-seeds to grow a cozy village garden one level at a time, wandering a winding path from your first sprout to a blooming hilltop fair — easy enough for grandma, tricky enough for the crossword nerd in the family.
Seedwords: A calming word puzzle game where you spell words from scattered letter seeds to grow a quiet little garden, one bloom at a time.
Starswap: That little rush of putting something right — swap and match glowing star-tiles to repair your drifting ship, one 90-second orbit at a time, perfect for the train ride home.
Weed Squad: Swap, match, and yank three cheeky dandelions at a time to rescue Grandma's garden from the gnomes who keep replanting them — a laid-back match-3 with big tiles, no timers, and just enough mischief to keep your brain limber.
Petalush: Unwind by matching blooms to grow a garden that flourishes at your own pace — a cozy match-3 for anyone who needs a few minutes of calm.
Prism Drift: Sixty-second match-3 sessions of swapping glowing geometric tiles — a clean, minimalist brain-fizz you can pick up in line, on the bus, or between classes, and put down just as fast.
Claude Opus 5.5
BurrowBounce: No tutorial, no learning curve: just tap to send each colorful bunny boinging home to the burrow that matches its color.
Peekan Pie: Ten sneaky differences are hiding in every bakery scene, from swapped sprinkles to missing cherries. Think anyone in your family can spot them all before the pie cools?
Paws for a Moment: Slide the cushions, boxes and yarn balls out of the way so a sleepy kitten can get to its sunbeam. It's a small, cozy puzzle break for frazzled grown-ups who need to stop and breathe.
Gobbo's Letter Heist: Gobbo the monster stole the alphabet, so swipe the letter tiles into words to win it back. You'll learn it in seconds and spend forever trying to master it.
Posy: Match three or more blooms of the same colour to grow a sunny little garden, one gentle two-minute level at a time.
Bloomino: slide petal-shaped blocks into your enchanted garden plot, and each row you fill bursts into soft, glowing bloom.
Reefscue: Swipe to snap glowing currents together, feel every pop and fizz, and watch stranded sea critters zip home through the reef.
Fluffusion: Merge two matching critters into one bigger, fluffier friend. Each run takes about two minutes, short enough to finish between subway stops.
Stillgrid: Fill a spare minute with something calm: slide soft geometric blocks into place, one quiet little grid at a time, with no timers and no scores.
Comet Down: Match glowing stars, planets and comets at your own pace and feel the day drift away. There are no timers and no fail screens, just a quiet little universe to unwind in.
GPT-6.1 Sol
Toyburst: Match colorful toy pieces to spark spectacular combos and bring a playful miniature world to life!
Shape Up: A colorful puzzle game for ages 6–12 where matching shapes merge into bigger ones and each new challenge builds your puzzle power.
Shenanigans: Sneak in a quick brain break by swapping colorful shapes into matching groups and causing a little geometric trouble.
Petal Party: Match flower tiles to clear the board and bring a wildly colorful garden into bloom!
Nibbi: Match tasty treats to clear the board and serve up little wins whenever you have a spare minute.
Midnight Garden: Unwind as you merge matching plants into rarer blooms and uncover the secrets of a garden that only grows after dark.
Knot Funny: Outsmart a grid with a wicked sense of humor as you draw unbroken paths between matching colored shapes that cheekily swap places.
Shape Shenanigans: Swap colorful shapes to make matches and spark playful chain reactions in bite-sized puzzles perfect for a quick break.
Spell Meadow: Unwind by merging tiny charms into wondrous enchantments, then compare scores with friends whenever you like.
Cozy Corners: Find a little calm fitting colorful geometric pieces into grids across a handcrafted journey of soothing shapes and satisfying fits.
GPT-6 Astra
Shape Harbor: Swap neighboring shapes to make matching groups and help a little lighthouse keeper bring light home, one cozy puzzle chapter at a time.
Petal Haven: Merge matching flowers into wondrous new blooms and grow an enchanted garden at your own pace.
Hidden Hollow: Place patterned tiles to reveal delightful surprises in a village of friendly animals, one coffee-break puzzle at a time.
Block Borough: You match identical buildings in groups of three to turn a tiny block into a thriving city.
Little Blocks: Can you bring a bustling neighborhood together by swapping tiles and matching everyday comforts, from coffee cups to corner-store flowers?
Coglet Trails: Unwind by drawing paths from tiny windup robots to their charging docks in a pocket-sized clockwork world.
Canopy: Match identical leaf tiles to clear each puzzle and grow a lush forest, one satisfying pair at a time.
A Little Meadow: Players swap wildflowers to make matches and bring a quiet meadow into bloom, one unhurried puzzle at a time.
Shelf Serenity: Unwind in an ancient library as you fit oddly shaped books into snug shelves, one peaceful puzzle at a time.
Wild Little Links: Players connect matching woodland animals with paths that never cross, turning tiny forest puzzles into clever “aha!” moments.
Gemini 4 Argon
Floracrunch: Unwind every day by merging dewy sprouts into lush botanical wonders on a grid overflowing with crisp, tactile ASMR pops and earthy snaps.
Relic Rebuild: Gently cluster floating arcane fragments into balanced, stable structures inside a cozy ancient ruin—completely free of timers or failure states—to help an eccentric cast of locals renovate and restore their forgotten hometown.
TimberSort: Unwind in your grandfather’s heartwarming woodworking shop by untangling and sorting cluttered hand tools into neat cedar chests across endless, bite-sized daily challenges with cozy streak rewards.
Hue Knew? (A Square Affair): Unwind with untimed, zen-like color and shape matching in a sleek, minimalist world of abstract geometry, merging polygons at your own pace to renovate and customize your very own chic, mid-century modern sanctuary—because it turns out, it *is* hip to be square.
Prismapour: Tinker with tactile prism-glass vessels to pour, split, and sort streams of liquid neon light into dazzling gemstone molds using clever refraction physics.
VelvetAnvil: Unwind across hundreds of linear, fail-free levels as you mindfully slot vibrant, high-contrast geometric blocks into soothing tangram grids at your own pace.
Clack-Clack Clay: Thoughtfully slide and clear layers of tactile, clay-styled 3D toy blocks to deduce the hidden patterns of everyday objects beneath in an untimed test of strategy where conquering increasingly complex, handcrafted levels earns you elite skill ranks and mastery badges.
Pastriomino: Snuggly pack whimsical, oddly-shaped pastries into takeout boxes to trigger explosive sugar-rush combos and help quirky townsfolk renovate their rundown neighborhood bakery!
Letter Link: Lose yourself in a hypnotic flow state as you trace continuous, tumbling chains of words across grids of warm pastry tiles to master hundreds of levels and collect every last golden star.
Pack the Pantry: Unwind to the crisp click of everyday items snapping neatly into minimalist grids as you renovate and organize a sunlit home at your own soothing pace.
Kimi K3
Mergé: Merge two matching treats into something better—beans into brews, brews into full pastry boards—and slowly grow your cozy little café, with no timers, no fail states, and no wrong moves. Just a warm cup and one satisfying merge at a time.
Once Upon a Merge: Drag matching storybook treasures together to merge and upgrade them, snipping free the fairy-tale friends trapped inside — across hundreds of bite-sized puzzles perfect for kids and parents to play together.
Starwheel Shrine: A gentle match-and-clear puzzler where you swap faceted tiles to turn an ancient shrine's star mechanism—one shared constellation to restore each day, a quiet streak to tend, and no sprawling map to manage.
Marmalade Lane: Merge humble pantry staples into scrumptious homemade treats as you amble down a charming country lane of bite-sized puzzles — no timers, no stress, just cozy fun at your own pace.
Flect: No timers, no grind — just you and a jewel-bright grid, bending one exact, satisfying path at a time to guide every piece home.
: The board never resets. Leftover sweets carry forward, so every level picks up where the last one left off — no two runs ever play the same, and a "bad" level just becomes tomorrow's interesting setup.
Perchwork: Fit scattered feathers, twigs, and trills back together to rebuild a bright aviary of songbirds, one calm, bite-size handcrafted puzzle at a time.
Kilter: Drag to aim, release to commit — every piece you place stays placed, so nudge a scattered world of clean shapes back into kilter, one perfect drop at a time.
Mirrorlings: Turn your own photos into a calm, mirrored dreamscape where every gentle match-3 swap hatches the adorable twin creatures sleeping inside your favorite memories.
Tumble Tomes: Pop open any sealed storybook you like and squish soft, chunky pieces into bigger and bigger wonders—five cozy minutes at a time, where a tumble never means game over, just one more gentle try.
Prompt
Write a haiku about autumn.Model Salt v1 @1
Claude Fable 5.1
Autumn leaves drift down — / the yard fills with gold enough / to thank the whole year
Maple leaves let go, / a bitter sweetness on tongue — / the tea has gone cold.
One leaf lets go — / the whole maple stands on as if / nothing had been lost
Gold leaves everywhere— / I stand inside the falling, / lit by all that lets go.
Red leaves let go / and settle on the still pond / without a ripple.
Red leaves let go slow / Drifting past the garden gate— / No one left to watch
Since the equinox, / the maple sheds its red leaves— / none of them return.
First frost settles white / along the bare maple limbs / that let their leaves go
Red maples blaze gold— / the whole hillside spills its wealth, / leaves heaped bright as coins.
Rake leans back, / work done for the day— / fall says no.
Claude Opus 5.5
Apples heavy, red — / an old woman fills her skirt, / and thanks the bent bough.
Harvest moon rising — / the last cart of pumpkins creaks / through the stubbled field
Stubble field at dusk — / the scarecrow still keeps watch on / rows of nothing now
The last geese pass— / upon the frost-pale stubble, peace, / and evening's hush.
first frost / I skate across the lawn in socks / like I did at six
One red maple leaf / lets go of the bare black branch — / the river runs on.
Maple leaves drop — / your palm open / on the moss
I stop walking. / One leaf takes its time / coming down.
Maple shaking / a hundred red leaves pinwheel down, tag the dog, / ride his back home
Maple lets go slow, / red leaves drift down through still air — / the earth takes them in.
GPT-6.1 Sol
Geese turn south in the autumn sky— / one more joins the open V.
Wet leaves smell like rain / October seeps through the door / Wish you were here, too
Gold leaves greet the dawn. / Beneath the bridge, a shadow / moves against the stream.
The scent of bruised fruit / Drifts through heaps of golden leaves— / An empty swing sways.
Night—your empty hand / waits beneath the falling leaves / for a vanished warmth.
Among the green oaks / a few yellow leaves settle / on the forest floor.
Gold leaves settle. / The old oak lets the last one fall / into the dusk.
A red maple leaf / drifts across the quiet pond / on a breath of wind.
Wild geese journey south. / Across the still autumn pond, / ripples without end.
Dawn through thinning oaks / He walks where the leaves once clung / Cold light fills their place
GPT-6 Astra
The shorn fields lie bare / No wings disturb the cold air / Beneath a pale moon
Autumn chills the porch / A warm cup rests in both hands / Leaves settle softly.
Fall light, a thin coin— / We hop through the last sunbeams, / Then race home laughing.
The last sheaves of wheat / lean against the empty barn / where the swallows slept.
Ripe pears scent the air / Woodsmoke drifts across the pond / Autumn settles in
In my garden, I lift a gold leaf— / its veins branch / like the lines of my open palm.
Wild geese wing their way / Through the fading autumn light, / Far beyond the fields.
Cool autumn air flows / Like the brook between the pines, / Softly through the dusk.
Red leaves fall at dusk— / We linger beneath the trees / Where our swing once hung
At dawn I count geese / Heading south beyond the fields / Till the sky is bare.
Gemini 4 Argon
Last pale sun / fading on bruised red apples / long shadows reach
Gold hills at their height / veil in the fading mist— / this brief breath.
Frost on bare branches— / slanting gold light fills the room / round our brimming plates.
Frost-edged breeze— / red maples loosen their grip / into the cooling calm.
Slanted sun— / all the scarlet woods / know to let.
White frost gleams / on red squash— / full barn.
First hoarfrost— / the scent of damp earth and woodsmoke / as the garden fades.
Amber leaves drift down, / gilded in the fading sun— / bare boughs welcome sky.
One frail red leaf falls— / thin gold boughs let go their crowns / to the cold dark earth.
smooth chest-warm chestnuts / slip from the burrs to my palm— / brisk wind on my neck
Kimi K3
autumn fields shorn bare / pumpkins heaped beside the road / grain in the silo
Autumn mist settles / over the harvested fields— / a lone crow rises.
Raking leaves at dusk — / wind-blown leaves skip down the street / I smile, rake again
Red leaves spiral down — / a cold pond reflects the clouds, / still, silver with dusk.
First frost on the sill, / autumn air on bare skin— / the garden lies still.
A crow on a bare branch— / autumn wind tastes of ice; / the cold sun sinks low.
Dusk, early again— / the street where the chestnuts fell / half a life ago
first autumn wind— / I turn to tell you
red leaves torn loose and falling — / the year ends with a taste of wet earth
Scarlet leaves drift down— / a lone cricket's song fading / into the cold night.
Prompt
Write the first line of a short story about a lighthouse keeper.Model Salt v1 @1
Claude Fable 5.1
You stand on the rock where the fog swallows your light before it reaches anyone.
Hallerin wound the clockwork for the third time that night and felt it catch on something that had never been there before, while the storm threw the sea against the tower.
On the morning the fog finally lifted, Elias saw that the sea had taken the last of the rowboats from the cove, and the empty mooring posts stood like the stumps of something that had once been his.
The night the clockwork stopped, I trimmed the wick by hand and watched the sea go strangely, utterly still.
The fog comes in off the water every evening now, and I light the lamp for ships that stopped passing years ago.
Every night for eleven years, Thomas Grey had counted the ships that passed, and tonight he counted one too many.
She trimmed the wick again, though no ships came anymore.
The fog comes in over Carrow Point the way it has come for a hundred autumns, swallowing the headland, the harbor, and the forty-one steps of the lighthouse stair—but tonight, for the first time in all those years, nothing on the rock above the water answers it with light.
Nobody's coming tonight," I tell the lamp, the way I tell it every night, and I wind it anyway.
The fog comes in thick and grey tonight, swallowing the beam before it reaches the water, and I know something is out there waiting.
Claude Opus 5.5
Halfway up the iron stair with a can of whale oil knocking against her knee, Agnes Merrow stopped at the narrow window to watch the morning packet steam out past the breakwater, and realized, to her own surprise, that for the first time since they had buried her father she wasn't counting the steps still above her but wondering what she might do with the lamp now that it was hers.
The sea has gone perfectly still, and I have never been more afraid.
The light goes out at 2:14 a.m., and Agnes's first thought, God help her, is that at least now she can finally sleep.
The beam swept the black water again, lighting nothing Tomas had ever loved.
The light comes on by itself now, at dusk, on a timer the Coast Guard installed eleven years ago, but I still climb the hundred and fourteen steps every evening to watch it, the way you'd sit with someone sleeping.
Ezra Hale had wound the lamp's clockwork every night for thirty years, and it was the only thing that had ever needed him.
Mara Vell will have tended the light on Gannet Rock for forty years before she realizes that none of the ships it guides home has ever had anyone aboard.
A stranger knocks, and Ezra is already warming the kettle.
Each evening on Macquarie Island, Ewan polished the great lens until its light lay across the cold sea like a hand resting on a sleeping child's back.
Your mother lit the lamp again last night," my father says.
GPT-6.1 Sol
The lighthouse keeper watches a yellow wardrobe drift past the rocks as the tide turns.
When the noon sun struck the lantern glass, the lighthouse keeper tasted seawater through a tooth he had lost thirty years ago.
I watched the evening tide erase the path to my childhood home, minutes before the empty lifeboat washed ashore beneath my lighthouse.
In 1923, while the lighthouse keeper on Gallows Rock struggled to repair his lamp, forty miles of open sea away a captain was revising his opinion of the lighthouse keeper.
On my third night without a working lamp, I heard my own voice over the lighthouse radio, calmly announcing the wreck of a ship still crossing the dark water below.
On an island forty miles from the mainland, the lighthouse keeper slept through the arrival of his first visitor in eleven years.
The lighthouse keeper locked the lantern room for the night, and bare footprints appeared on the stairs behind him.
When the telegraph began tapping out his mother’s name, the lighthouse keeper reached for the scissors he had used to cut its wire that morning.
On his lonely rock six miles offshore, the lighthouse keeper recognized his daughter’s crooked handwriting on the envelope and forgot his cooling tea.
For the first time in thirty years of tending the lighthouse, I wanted to let a ship pass unseen.
GPT-6 Astra
When her phone chimed with a photograph of her father’s old lighthouse, Nora recognized her own washing on the rail, and for a moment the keeper forgot she had buried him before cameras could fit in pockets.
On my last morning as lighthouse keeper, I polished the brass key my father had given me when he still expected me to stay.
After thirty years tending the lighthouse on the harbor breakwater, Elias still caught himself counting his brother’s boat among the lights coming home.
When the radio announced the end of the war in 1945, and while the mainland bells carried faintly across the sea, I watched the lighthouse keeper climb our island’s tower with his dead son’s cap beneath his arm.
Alone on an island forty miles from shore, the lighthouse keeper heard a second pair of boots climbing the stairs behind him.
When the lighthouse keeper received a text from his own number telling him to extinguish the light, he still had six minutes before anyone on the mainland knew he was dead.
On the last evening of 1887, the lighthouse keeper polished the brass lamp and watched the mainland windows brighten, trying to remember which belonged to his daughter and whether she still left a curtain open for his light.
The lighthouse keeper felt the cliff shift beneath his feet as a crack opened across the road connecting the tower to the village.
Each evening I lit the lamp above that lonely stretch of mainland cliffs, and each morning, though I locked the lighthouse door and slept with the key beneath my tongue, I cleaned small handprints from the lens.
On a June morning in 1873, the lighthouse keeper brewed tea on his solitary rock ten miles offshore while his daughter, still asleep on the mainland, dreamed of sharing a cup with him.
Gemini 4 Argon
For thirty winters, Silas had wound the heavy brass clockwork of the lens with the steady hands of a man who trusted iron more than God, yet tonight, as a black gale hammered the lantern room panes, the gears seized and the great oil wicks guttered into a lethal, inexplicable dark.
While the November gale hurls salt and freezing spray against the rattling panes with the fury of everything you left behind on the mainland, you breathe warm whale-oil fumes and polish the great brass-bound Fresnel prisms until they gleam like solidified ghosts.
Sweating in the greenhouse heat of a dead-calm August noon, Arthur was halfway through testing the brass hand-crank on the thousand-watt lamp's auxiliary relay when he saw every mile of ocean beyond the reef drop ten feet in a single, silent breath.
Thomas stared at his own warped, silent reflection in the curve of the newly polished brass oil reservoir, realizing with a dull ache that he had not seen another face—nor heard the sound of his own voice—since the supply tender vanished into the October fog six weeks prior.
After forty years of listening to the diesel generators hum beneath the floorboards and the Coast Guard’s automation notices crackle through the radio static, Arthur would be undone not by the night the great beam finally went dark, but by the fateful Tuesday it stopped sweeping the sea and pointed straight down into the kitchen.
On the third night of November 1954, the brass clockwork beneath the Fresnel lens seized with a weary groan, pinning my solitary beam through the cliffside fog directly onto a rowboat that had no business being there.
For twelve years I had faithfully wound the heavy brass clockwork and polished the great Fresnel lens before sunset; on the thirteenth anniversary of my watch, however, the beam swept out across the black water and illuminated something in the swell that threw no shadow and made no sound.
Bracing his scarred shoulder against the trembling stone of the lantern room, Thomas trimmed the charred wicks and pumped fresh whale oil into the burner while a howling gale drove another wall of black water to shatter against the jagged granite sixty feet below.
Nineteen miles from the nearest salt-bitten town and forty-two days into a howling, rain-lashed gale that had made the iron lantern room shiver like a fevered ribcage, my beam swept the black surf and caught the thing that had dragged itself onto the shoal—something vast, pale, and wrong, staring back up at the light with eyes that were already mine.
As the winter gale hurls walls of black Atlantic water over the gallery rail—drowning the newly installed automation relays in salt and plunging the granite needle into darkness—Callum realizes that if he does not climb the frost-slicked iron stairs and light the backup kerosene mantle within the next four minutes, the relief boat fighting through the shoals below will be torn to splinters against the rocks.
Kimi K3
I had wound the clock and trimmed the wick every dusk for nine years, but the night before the inspector's boat was due, I did both twice.
The fog came in before supper and swallowed the harbor and the village below, so the keeper did what he had done for thirty years: he opened the door of the light and spoke the names of the drowned into the mist, that they might find their way up the hill.
My name is Elias Vane, and for thirty-one years I have kept the light burning on Harrow Rock, climbing the hundred and four iron steps every dusk with my oil can and my stiffening knees, though tonight, as the storm hurls the sea against the rocks below like something that has at last learned my name, I find I can no longer remember whether it was the ships I stayed to warn, or myself.
In all his forty years of tending the light, had the wind ever screamed the way it screamed tonight?
The last bulb the Coast Guard sent sits warm in Oren's coat pocket, and he turns it between two fingers like a coin he isn't ready to spend.
Each dusk you wind the lamp, as keepers have wound it since the first ship went down, and the great eye begins its slow turning above the sea.
Every evening that first month, he would light the lamp an hour early, just to be sure.
Thomas Wren was twenty-three when he came to Gray Gull Light in the autumn of 1889, and he began missing the mainland before the boat that brought him had cleared the bay.
You should have seen Elias Crowe, the new keeper of the Gull Rock light, on the morning he arrived: the foghorn grinding overhead like a rusted hinge swung wide, and him already in his shirtsleeves, waiting for the kettle to boil.
My hand was still steady on the narrowing brass rail that last dawn, when I climbed to trim a lamp already wired to burn without me, and though I stopped at every landing to listen, no voice but the wind's came up the stairs.
Temperature vs Model Salt
A test: one model, one prompt, ten runs a row. In the first row only the temperature changes. In the second only the Model Salt dial changes.
- Model
- Gemini 4 Argon
- Prompt
- “Generate an SVG of a pelican riding a bicycle.”
- Values
- 0.2 to 2.0, one run each
TemperatureThe same pelican every time
0.2 
0.4 
0.6 
0.8 
1.0 
1.2 
1.4 
1.6 
1.8 
2.0
Model Salt dialA different picture every time
0.2 
0.4 
0.6 
0.8 1.0 
1.2 
1.4 
1.6 
1.8 
2.0
Temperature makes less likely words more likely, one word at a time. The model still writes its usual answer, so only the sky moves.
Model Salt has the model write its usual answer and the choices that make it, then moves drawn from randomness outside the model change those choices before it does the work. The dial says how far they go: 0 keeps the usual answer, 2 makes every answer equally likely.
Choose how random
Model
Randomness setting
Setting 0: Always the usual
Setting 0.5: Mostly the usual
Setting 1: Default
Setting 1.5: Spread wider
Setting 2: All equally likely
Setting 0: Always the usual
Setting 0.5: Mostly the usual
Setting 1: Default
Setting 1.5: Spread wider
Setting 2: All equally likely
Setting 0: Always the usual
Setting 0.5: Mostly the usual
Setting 1: Default
Setting 1.5: Spread wider
Setting 2: All equally likely
Setting 0: Always the usual
Setting 0.5: Mostly the usual
Setting 1: Default
Setting 1.5: Spread wider
Setting 2: All equally likely
Setting 0: Always the usual
Setting 0.5: Mostly the usual
Setting 1: Default
Setting 1.5: Spread wider
Setting 2: All equally likely
Setting 0: Always the usual
Setting 0.5: Mostly the usual
Setting 1: Default
Setting 1.5: Spread wider
Setting 2: All equally likely
