Your characters' best dialogue in your story's chapter!

Just give me a teaser of your main/supporting/minor character’s best dialogue. Their conversation, their witty banter, their snarky remarks, the clever statements, and/or their great speeches.

I just want to know your characters through their speech patterns and their overall dialogue.

Thoughts and feelings?

NOTE: I shall leave you all to decide how to show your characters’ dialogue at their greatest or even their worst. I wanna see it all. If you need to put it in spoilers, then I shall allow you to do that.



Let me hear your characters, please and thank you!

WARNING: I shall go myself. Though keep in mind, that my stories are STILL in the very rough/first draft stage. I think I may want to alter it for this thread though, so it feels more like a play rather than a novel, since I am in the rough stage.


Nothing world-shaking, but it’s what I got.


Bremil told me later that Cuthred spent most of his time with the sons of certain dissolute noblemen, reportedly bad influences. I suppose his mother was too polite to mention that. Bremil sure gave me an earful, though. “It’s a good thing Cuthred will never be king or the country would be doomed,” he told me at home that night. “He only cares about drinking, gambling, and visiting brothels. He was shocked that I don’t do any of those things. He knows nothing of current events or the lives of the people, and couldn’t care less. What a useless libertine!”

Cuthred sounded to me like someone destined for Parliament, but I didn’t say so.

Dov teaching Freyja how to be gentle, fourth chapter extract

Freyja stood beside Dov before the bathroom’s broad counter-top, watching her companion’s reflection in the wide mirror set within the ornate cabinet. Dov finished preparing their toothbrushes, and offered one to Freyja.

‘Practice your cleaning lesson with Krista,’ Dov said. ‘Or you can copy me.’

Freyja nodded and began brushing her back teeth. Dov smiled, stroked her hair, and retuned his attention to the mirror to begin his own cleaning.

Freyja’s gaze darted between her reflection and Dov’s as she matched his movements. Freyja’s toothbrush changed sides, and the handle bowed as her grip tightened to mimic Dov’s visible pressure. A bristle cluster ploughed into Freyja’s gum and she winced with a muffled yelp. Freyja’s attention snapped back to her reflection, clutching the handle with both hands to keep the bristles away from her gums. Seconds of undistracted scrubbing passed. Freyja glanced back at Dov as he bent down to the sink. Freyja followed him, and they dispatched their toothpaste troth.

‘Almost done.’ Dov filled an old mug with tap water, drew a mouthful from the mug before offering it to Freyja. The companions rinsed out their mouths together, then Dov straightened and turned to Freyja. ‘Open your mouth, please.’

Freyja obeyed, tilting her head back as Dov stooped down. Dov cupped Freyja’s cheeks, leaning her head from side to side. His thumps guided her mouth closed and he smiled.

‘Trying to learn from me while practising Krista’s lesson?’ Dov’s hands drifted onto Freyja’s shoulders. ‘You are very clever. Please be careful with your strength, avoid hurting yourself.’

Freyja’s gaze fell to her boots. ‘Sorry, Dov.’

‘Mistakes are normal.’ Dov caressed her shoulders. ‘That could be our next lesson.’

Freyja looked up at Dov as his eyes swept across the vanity’s shelves. Dov retrieved a tri-blade razor from a plastic pack with Hebrew inscriptions, and a shaving foam canister labelled in English and Hebrew. Dov turned the items in his hands, then glanced at his reflection and shrugged.

‘There is problem?’ Freyja asked.

‘Not the best plan,’ Dov mumbled.

Freyja turned as the bathroom door creaked open. Krista stepped inside dressed in red glossy pyjamas, clutching a giant teddy bear to her chest.

‘Shalom and good morning,’ Krista cheered. ‘Sleep well?’

‘Yes,’ Freyja replied as Krista stood beside her. ‘Much rest.’

‘Mazel tov.’ Krista sat her bear on the countertop, facing her friends. ‘Karen asked for breakfast requests.’

‘I usually skip it.’ Dov placed his possessions beside the sink. ‘But if Freyja is hungry, we will have the same as you. With tea.’

‘I not hungry, thank you,’ Freyja said.

‘Okay, I’ll pass the message on.’ Krista retrieved her mobile from her pants’ pocket.

Freyja tilted her head and traced her fingers along Krista’s sleeve.

‘You like satin, Freyja?’ Krista asked, typing on her phone.

‘Soft and pretty,’ Freyja replied.

‘Maybe we can find some satin for you later.’ Krista glanced up from her screen, pointing to the sink. ‘What’s happening here?’

‘A lesson on being gentle.’ Dov began to fill the sink with warm water. ‘Freyja’s going to shave me.’

‘Wow.’ Krista rested her phone on her teddy’s lap. ‘All of you?’

Dov plucked a flannel from the shelf and plunged it into the sink with the razor. ‘Just my face, Krista.’

‘With razor?’ Freyja asked. ‘Razor, sharp?’

‘Very.’ Dov wrung out the flannel and soaked his stubble. ‘A little strength behind the razor will remove whiskers. Too much strength will also remove skin.’

‘No, please.’ Freyja’s hands whipped behind her back as a shudder swept through her. ‘I not hurt Dov.’

Dov turned to her and sighed, shaking the foam can. ‘Relax, Freyja. I will help–’

‘Better idea,’ Krista interrupted. ‘Dov kneels, Freyja holds my hands, I shave Dov, and no one is hurt. Is that okay, Freyja?’

‘Yes.’ Freyja replied as Dov knelt to the girls’ height. ‘Thank you, Krista.’

Dov filled his cupped hand with a large ball of shaving foam. ‘Good thinking, Krista. But don’t get too adventurous.’

Krista gave her friends a wide smile and scooped up some foam. ‘Any plans for today?’

‘The library and dictionaries,’ Dov said. ‘Freyja asked about dreams when we woke up. I want to give her a proper description, and teach her how to find the meanings and use of different words. So they don’t bother or hurt her.’

‘Interesting pillow talk.’ Krista drew a troth smiley-face on Dov’s left cheek, then smothered her art with thick foam. ‘Pol and Karen retrieved some furniture from storage yesterday afternoon. It’s next to the entrance stairs. Can you, sweet Dov, carry that to my room?’

Dov gave a slight nod as Krista began lathering his right cheek. ‘Freyja is moving in with you?’

‘Dah,’ Krista said. ‘We’re roomies.’

Freyja’s gaze darted between her friends. ‘I sleep in Krista’s room, not Dov’s room?’

Dov smiled and stroked Freyja’s arm. ‘Young girls often share bedrooms with other girls, not with men.’

‘Unless it’s a special occasion with nice wine.’ Krista gave Dov’s nose a white streak. ‘Dov might need a more thorough stubble hunt first.’

Dov suppressed his groan. ‘Freyja, you are welcome to visit my room, at any time for any reason. But staying in Krista’s room will be good for you.’

‘I’ll make your stay fun,’ Krista said. ‘Teach you lots great girl things.’

‘Will Dov have good rest alone?’ Freyja asked. ‘Will bad memories come to Dov, or me?’

Krista stroked Freyja with the back of her hand. ‘My teddy and I can guard you from nightmares. You will be okay with us. Dov is a tough Mister Commando; he will be okay too.’

‘What is your bear’s name?’ Dov asked.

Krista glanced at him then her teddy. ‘Gur.’

‘Sounds a guard dog; strong and protective.’ Dov patted Freyja’s shoulder. ‘No need for you to worry.’

Freyja glanced at her boots, then offered her friends a faint smile with a nod. ‘I stay in Krista’s room.’

‘Wunderbar!’ Krista cheered. ‘More good news. No school for me this week. Plenty of time to help my new housemates.’

‘Oh, joy,’ Dov muttered.

‘Quiet now.’ Krista plastered thick foam over Dov’s lips and chin. ‘Freyja, cover his neck and I’ll prepare the razor.’

Freyja collected the remaining shaving foam from Dov’s hand, and rubbed the soft paste over Dov’s throat. ‘Is okay, Dov?’

‘You’re fine,’ Dov whispered through the foam mound. ‘This will be a good memory.’

‘How’s the customer?’ Krista stepped in front of Dov with a gleaming razor in her cleaned hand. ‘Dov, hold the flannel below your neck. Freyja, hold my hand very carefully, no pressure on my fingers, and enjoy the show.’

An extract from a short story experiment, might get blended into a later chapter (Spoilers within)

Dov awoke as a light form shunted against his bedframe. He reached over to his writing desk and switched on the soft reading lamp. His gaze drifted down to discover a young blonde girl in an oversized Army shirt huddled beside his mattress. A faint whimper escaped from the girl as a shudder swept through her lithe figure. Dov climbed out from his covers, adjusting his t-shirt and track pants, and slipped onto the hardwood floor by the girl’s right side. He glanced at her arm as dark streaks creeped down her sleeve and the bandages beneath, then he tapped the gauze hem above her elbow.

‘Ah!’ The girl snapped upright, turning to face him. ‘I’m sorry, Dov. I tried not to wake you.’

‘Relax, Krista, I sleep light after a rough day,’ Dov replied. ‘Now, I’ve only been here a week, but is conducting midnight raids to pinch a new housemate’s top an Israeli tradition, or just for Karen’s villa?’

‘My shirt itched, and I was thirsty.’ Krista retrieved a dark glass bottle from her shadow. ‘I couldn’t go back to bed. Scared of waking Freyja, and sleeping.’

Dov tilted his head. ‘Karen asked me to teach Freyja all I know, although we haven’t covered snoring or being a grumpy roommate. Are bad dreams the issue?’

‘Dreams, mistakes, and pain.’ Krista sipped from her bottle. ‘They never leave.’

‘Only real anaesthetic can quieten your wound.’ Dov clasped Krista’s left hand, turning her bottle into the light. ‘Even vintage wine won’t help your arm.’

‘It can make me sleep without dreams,’ Krista replied. ‘I’ll wake up tomorrow, Freyja will think I’m okay, and no one will know how badly I screwed up.’

Dov sighed and released Krista’s hand. ‘That’s not an original plan or an effective one. Trust me.’

‘You didn’t have the right vintage,’ Krista said between sips.

‘Perhaps,’ Dov said. ‘Anyway, which of your mistakes warrants this?’

‘I scared you, which frightened Freyja,’ Krista replied. ‘That caused all my other mistakes, and the dream.’

‘How can a fourteen-year-old girl spook a veteran Commando?’ Dov asked.

‘Easy, even Freyja can do it.’ Krista gulped down a mouthful of her wine and shuddered. ‘When I found you two on the villa sundeck and I screamed, you heard someone else. Maybe from Afghanistan. Then the afternoon fell apart.’

‘I only heard you,’ Dov said. ‘The sundeck, clumsy turns in the stairwell, your flayed shoulder and ruined turtleneck, are my fault.’

Krista grunted. ‘You’re a hopeless liar.’

‘True,’ Dov said. ‘But why did you scream? There were a dozen-odd rockets in the air. Be’er Sheva’s Iron Dome knocked down the close ones. You were ten metres behind us, so you had a clear view of…Oh…That’s it.’

Krista whimpered as her shiver returned.

Dov continued, ‘You saw two new friends exposed to rocket salvos fired by the thugs who killed your brother.’

‘I should have realised you and Freyja were safe.’ Krista sniffed. ‘But I freaked out like a stupid child. Now everyone’s laughing at me, at all the harm I caused.’

Dov cupped his hand around Krista’s undamaged shoulder. ‘Anyone who laughs at you for today has no desire to continue breathing.’

Krista shook her head. ‘In the dream there is a mercenary in front of me. One of Karen’s. When I recognise their face, they change to another fighter. This happened again and again. All the fighters are smiling, laughing. I woke up when I remembered they’re dead.’

‘Was your brother among them?’ Dov asked as Krista took another sip of wine.

‘Not tonight.’ Krista wiped a stray tear from her nose. ‘Do you think Gur couldn’t look at me? Was he embarrassed by–?’

‘A devoted little sister who protects her friends before herself? No brother is that foolish.’ Dov gave Krista’s shoulder a light squeeze. ‘No warrior either. I think the fighters in your dream were cheering. They were proud. You handled the day’s chaos like a trooper.’

Krista glanced up at him. ‘Why couldn’t I see Gur?’

Dov shrugged. ‘He was an IDF soldier, not one of Karen’s mercenaries. Maybe his memory is hidden elsewhere, safe from harm. But I doubt he has any reason to be upset.’

‘Trying to cheer me up?’ Krista asked with a slight smile.

Dov copied her smile. ‘I’m hopeless at that too?’

Krista smirked as she slouched against Dov’s side, resting her wounded shoulder on his chest. ‘You’re pathetic.’

‘Yeah,’ Dov sighed. ‘So why not talk to your parents about the dream. Their room’s just another two doors down the hall.’

Krista swallowed a mouthful of wine. ‘Their little girl died with Gur.’

^Decided to add the short story’s opening for more context.

The only scene, so far, with Karen and Polanski talking

Karen tested the lock of final stairwell door on the first floor’s hallway, completing her security checks, and turned to a nearby bathroom. Polanski emerged from the doorway adjusting her old tracksuit, flicked off the bathroom lights, and strode towards Karen. The women greeted each other with a brief hug, then Karen motioned to the hall’s far end. A soft light within Krista’s room illuminated the darkened passageway.

‘I guess Freyja’s a night-owl,’ Polanski said as the pair set off. ‘Or Krista’s demanding more bedtime reading from Dov.’

‘Dov was right about her,’ Karen said. ‘I watched Freyja read her dictionary like a favourite novel.’

‘Yet how much did she understand,’ Polanski said. ‘Was that a show to impress Dov?’

‘Freyja would not lie, especially not to Dov.’ Karen placed a hand on Polanski’s back. ‘Dov is not one to lie, either. Though he did say an interesting half-truth.’

‘Your question on the stairs?’ Polanski asked. ‘Was that a test?’

‘If it was, he passed,’ Karen replied. ‘Curious Dov didn’t mention if Freyja’s attachment was reciprocated.’

‘Dov’s actions answer that question,’ Polanski said. ‘But this is new for him. Maybe there’s some uncertainty.’

‘Freyja’s new for everyone,’ Karen said. ‘What do you think about this?’

‘Like Dov, I’m still in shock.’ Polanski shrugged. ‘I thought the technology for Freyja was at least ten years away.’

‘Lander is a very clever doctor,’ Karen said.

‘Among other things.’ Polanski sighed. ‘Well done with keeping this a secret.’

‘You don’t approve?’ Karen caressed Polanski’s back. ‘You think this was a mistake?’

‘I understand the motives, maybe better than Dov.’ Polanski smirked. ‘And nothing about Freyja was a mistake, not even her exceptional assets.’

‘No complaints from Dov, so what harm was done?’ Karen asked with a faint smile.

‘Such chutzpah,’ Polanski replied. ‘We’re lucky Dov has considerable patience.’

‘One of many talents he will need.’ Karen motioned for silence, crept up to Krista’s room, and peered around the open doorframe.

Dov was seated in Krista’s reading chair placed beside the head of Freyja’s bed, with the hardback edition of illustrated Germanic tales open in his lap. Dov’s left hand marked his progress in a story while his right hand clasped the forearm of a sleeping Freyja, who’s own hand mimicked his hold. Dov looked up as the women tiptoed into the bedroom, then glanced over his shoulder to Krista’s bed.

‘A familiar touch, with a calming voice,’ Polanski whispered as she crouched beside Dov’s chair. ‘No surprise both girls are asleep with the lights on.’

‘I thought of leaving after Freyja dosed off,’ Dov whispered. ‘But she didn’t let go. I can’t risk waking her.’

‘So don’t.’ Karen navigated around the piles of language books and dictionaries clustered before the new draws, extracted a blanket from the wardrobe with practiced stealth, and gestured for Polanski to clear Dov’s lap. ‘Krista won’t complain about an extra roommate for tonight.’

‘I’m sure you have slept in less comfortable places.’ Polanski retrieved and closed Dov’s book, and ruffled his hair as she rose to her feet. ‘With far less pleasant company.’

Karen draped the blanket over Dov, tucking in the sides as if making a bed, then placed a light kiss on Dov’s cheek as Polanski switched off the bedroom lights. ‘Good night, dear Dov. Try not to snore.’

More will follow…I really need to get scribbling again…

1 Like
Gotta love cousins, eh?

“I’m bringing sexy back.” Cay said with a smirk. He was wearing a pair of neon green shorts, gold sunglasses, pink vest top and white socks with sandals. His bald head was shining in the midday sun.

Jey raised his eyebrows, then laughed. “Cousin, the only thing you’re bringing back is nausea.”

Cay smirked. “Shut up, at least I can fit into something this hot.”

“Definitely not.” Jey shook his head as he examined Cay’s slightly protruding belly. “Dear, the eighties called and they want everything back.”

Still planning Max, and the Igor/Juan story. This is just a fun writing exercise in the meantime.

The main cast meets the main villain(?)

“How have you survived all this time?” I asked him. “You’re blind.”

“Oh? Am I?” Crow said, a sarcastic lilt in his tone. “Nothing to see, anyway. Been like this as long as I can remember. How did three little fledglings get this far from Aḫ-ḫur without their brains?”

“We’re from After,” Vale corrected. She kept her hand on the handle of her machete.

“You know, the big ugly city that’s surrounded by a huge-ass wall?” added Webb. “The one you keep attacking?”

"That is what I said. After." Crow mimicked Vale’s pronunciation mockingly. “These fledglings,” he told the crows perched on his shoulders. “They do not listen. Too much sand in their ears and filling up their empty heads, I think.”

Webb shot Vale and me a sidelong glance and spun a finger around his ear in a this guy’s freaking nuts motion. He didn’t bother being discreet.


Thanks everybody!

King Andrej and context

Queen Nadia couldn’t approach the throne of her own volition without risking death. Not officially. Andrej told her in no uncertain terms, “Fuck my father’s rules.”

And he meant it. He would rather die in his wife’s arms than prevent her from being accepted in front of him. This is what gave her strength to defy the court, even as she feared losing favor.

Never had his face looked so cold. For a moment, she thought he would send her away. He grieved the loss of another child as well. This mattered to a king’s pride. He was reaching the end of his patience and had been for a few years, now.

Andrej let out a slow shaky breath. “Let my life and light claim my side, you damned fools. I’d as soon die by her hands than deny her.”


I used iambic parameter to write this character’s dialogue, which was super enjoyable. Fair warning, though, this is an extremely rough draft. Everything about this scene will most likely change, other than the dialogue (which could use a bit of tweaking). But I’m pretty proud of it!

meeting the keeper of death

The keeper of death, ringer of the bells of hell, the man to which all sin is birthed and to which all sin is returned. Bastia. The thing she carried in her stomach. The name to which it was given for being born of sin, derived from this awful, awful… creature… man… god? Bastian. Bastian was its… his… name.

“Thou tread towards a path of endless void,” he said, his voice was like nothing she ever heard. It was the pang of hunger, the dryness of dehydration, the cracked peeling skin of a worker’s bloody hands, it was the death-rattle of a dying man. “I bid thy’s lost soul sorrow and pity.”

She could not speak. Paralyzed. He lifted an arm, and the vulture flew off, it’s wings flapped through the air coming closer and closer until it landed before her. Startled, she fell backwards and cried out as her elbows scrapped against the cold, hard floor.

He walked towards her, his bare cracked feet brushed against the ground. She trembled as he came to a halt just above her. She dared to look up, to gaze into his horrifying face, and then she screamed. Cringe away from him. Threw up a hand.

Bastian lifted his hand and she flinched, but he didn’t make a move to attack, he reached inside his long, liquid black cloak and produced a strange, fleshy looking notebook.

He flipped it open, Paged through it until he came to the place he desired. He reached again into his cloak and produced a quill, the feather of which resembled the vulture’s in front of her.

“Thy’s name shall be recorded one last time,” he held the quill, looked down at her, and waited.

“A–I am… dying?” she breathed, shocked and betrayed.

He nodded, grave.

“But… they said… they said…” she touched a hand to her forehead. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes. “All I wanted was for it to be over… but… I am so stupid. So stupid! How could I have trusted them?” She bowed her head into her hands and began to weep.

“Those who possess your body did not lie.”

Silence followed, and in that silence the truth burned through her. She dropped her hands and looked away from him, shame, nothing but shame coiled through her.

“Thy life of torment will cease soon enough. Beyond this gate lies the void of nothing.”


“Nothing; the abolishment of thy self. A transformation of something into nothing, all pooled into the consciousness that writhe in a sea of evisceration. A fate beyond torment, beyond joy, beyond all that is thine own self.”


This is what I am looking for! I do not mind it being a very or even an extremely rough draft, I just want you to show me the goods.

Thank you.

1 Like

Awesome! Thanks for posting your question :slight_smile:

1 Like

These are some of my favorite dialogue bits in Alive At Crepusculum.

First one is between Mallord (retired legendary detective) and Albert (former policeman colleague). Albert has just come to Mallord’s house in search of him which should not have happened. None of Mallord’s former colleagues are supposed to be able to find him.

Mallord and Albert reunite

“So, are you still in the force or have you left, too?” Mallord asked, sitting down across from Albert. “And how did you find me? Happy to see you, but I got to be careful. Carefully crafted and don’t you break it.”

“Almost left. Night guard at the zoo, now,” Albert said, dodging the second question. He drank some water before he spoke again. “So, I’m not here for small talk.”

“I’ve told them.” Mallord said. “I’ve left.” He sat back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.

“That you did. As you say.”

“I do say.” Mallord hugged himself in defense.

Albert gave a rabbit-toothed grin. “Or so you do.”

Mallord sucked his bottom lip in and chewed on it. “Humph. I’m a family man and a writer.”

“I read the first one—”

“Flattery won’t do it,” Mallord cut in with sarcasm.

“—and it was an adventure all over again! Some things exaggerated, sure, but I can stand trial and say it was all true if you need me. I can even swear by the lord if you’d like. Nah, who am I kidding? You’re no religious man, are you? Say, why didn’t you put me with my name in it? Who’s this Burt fellow? Don’t mind being Albert in fiction. Though sure, you don’t miss it, eh? Especially, when you write it.”

“Bastard. Of course, I don’t. That’s why I write it. Good riddance. Out of my head.”

Albert shrugged and raised his bushy eyebrows. “Sure, you don’t. That’s why you write it.”

“So, how did you find me?” Mallord became anxious.

This is tiny banter between Richard and his demon, Charcoal.

Richard and Charcoal

“Tupper supper,” Richard whispered, smirking at the rhyme.

“Sometimes you’re such a child,” Charcoal whispered.

“Shut up, C.”

Frank is a young local troublemaker teen. Henrietta is a superstitious, religious old lady.

Frank vs Henrietta

“Hrumph!” Henrietta finished her ice cream cone. “I reckon the devil’s going to come to you first. The near future, my boy!”

Frank laughed. “And when’s that? Friday the thirteenth?” He pointed to the calendar hanging on the wall in the shop. “I’m gonna break a mirror today and walk under a ladder!” He laughed. Henrietta’s whole body shook. She hopped down from the stool and jabbed a finger at him.

“Mark my words, Frank Barns, today was your last day!” she spat.

“Sorry to be seein’ ya tomorrow then!” Frank stuck out his tongue and laughed.

From an old draft of Queen of Darkness --> the kiddies asking Amneris why she doesn't use her full powers

“You’re, like, an actual God, right?” Maddie asked. “Can’t you just . . . I don’t know, snap your fingers, wave your hands, and make everyone do whatever you want?”
Amneris gave her a bewildered look. “I can.”
“So why don’t you?” Troy asked. “We could have this whole thing sorted in ten seconds.”
Amneris rolled her eyes. “Because I actually have a conscience.”
Jay gave her a disbelieving frown. “Since when is that a thing?”

From Published Version of The Final Downfall --> Amneris calling out the plot

“Why people find the slow raising shield thing necessary, I will never understand,” Amneris muttered. “I mean, yeah, it helps when you need to get out of the place but what if you need to stop a crazy villain with world-dominating or destruction plans? It seems a little counterproductive.”

“You’ve really done it this time, Amneris,” she muttered to herself. “I’ll just ask Naiu to give me even more power than my body can handle then blast the Dark King. Brilliant idea. You haven’t even gotten a good shot in, you absolute fucking moron, and now you’ll probably destroy the God Worlds . . . Gods, Leo will never let me forget this.”

From Published Version of The Final Downfall --> planning the rescue

“Right,” Jay said, standing. “We have some prisoners to free, a Terpolite to stop and some items to destroy. The only thing missing is our powerhouse. And no, I don’t care if it’s sacrilege-” This was to Ray who was about to say exactly that- “we don’t leave our people behind!”

Leo coughed pointedly.

“We don’t leave our people behind longer than we have to!” Jay amended.

From Published Version of The Final Downfall --> Zoe dissing the city

“I’m still working on getting the mechanics of this place down. Is there another way to get people off the city?”


“Well, that’s a highly flawed design.”

From Published Version of The Final Downfall --> Amneris and Kek's relationship - a summary

Amneris looked around, eyes landing on a fallen branch. She picked it up, holding the thick wood like a bat.

Kek stared at her in disbelief. “Seriously?”


Amneris spun on the spot, building up speed. before letting the branch fly toward Kek.

It flew straight past him.

Amneris and Kek stared dumbly at the branch which had bounced to a stop further in the forest.

“You missed,” Kek said.

“Yeah,” Amneris sighed.

“Can we talk now?”

“Sure. Whatever.”

From The Photon Cycle --> Hathor introducing Kori

Meet my arch nemesis and bane of my existence since starting at the Academy, Kori Bragër. She stood over me with a triumphant smirk, looking like she’d won a Galaxy Diamond. Flanking her from behind were her two loyal followers, the siblings Cyrus and Tyler Edevane. All three were Wolf Shifters from the Northern Wolf Pack of the Wolflands of Malaie. Wow, how many times can I use the word ‘wolf’ in a sentence?

Fun fact about Kori, Cyrus and Tyler: they love to make my life hell. Well, Kori likes to make my life hell. Cyrus and Tyler do it in part because they’re her loyal dogs and in part because they also hate me. Screwing with me is their favourite pastime. I’d never asked why but figured it was something to do with my friendship with Troy. Not only is he part of the same pack as them, but his father is the Alpha. Troy was first in line to become the new Alpha. And he had also been promised to Kori the moment she was born. The girl has an unhealthy obsession with him. And that’s being nice about it.

Long story short: If you looked up the definition of the origin of the word ‘bitch’, you’d find a picture of Kori there. Because she’s the Original Bitch.

I have a lot more :rofl:


If it isn’t obvious, I’m doing the final edit for The Final Downfall before I Amazon and Kindle it so keep finding some very weird dialogue :joy: This is just the latest one:

Kek and Colt's mutual hatred

[takes place after Colt shoves Kek back to the snow after realising he helped him up]

Kek gave him a disbelieving, almost insulted look. “The fuck, man?”

Colt opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words. He jabbed an angry finger at Kek. “I don’t like you.”

“By the Gods, he’s figured out contractions in our language.” Kek laughed, giving Colt an angered glare of his own as he got to his feet. “Relax, Loverboy. I don’t like you either. We have bigger problems at hand than your ego.” He gave Colt a once over. “You’re not even my type.”

“What is that supposed to–”

[then we go back to the plot]