Quotes From Your Stories!

Ahhhhh none of my dialogue is interesting enough for this chat. I love all of these though. I guess I'll look to see if there are any gems in my story.

“Hey, do you see those two women?” Niko asked.
Xander scowled. “So now you’re looking for ladies to hit on? How distasteful…”
“No, Xander. Look what she’s got on her belt.”
“Oh. I see. You want to recruit them, if possible.”
Niko nodded.
“Well, just go ask them.”
“Come with me,” Niko said, “Just in case they need extra convincing, or if things get dangerous. They are armed.”
Niko and Xander both slid out of the booth while both Ilya and Elizah still slept in the compartment. Niko walked up some ten rows of seats until he reached the booth where the two women sat across from each other. The smaller of the two was reading a book written in a language he did not recognize and the other doodled in a sketchbook.
“They’re from Vestfero, too,” Xander whispered, “The book she’s reading is a Vestferian classic.”
“Did you mean to speak with us?” The artist asked with her silky accent, fixing her narrow gray eyes upon them.
“Yes, actually. I saw the two of you from back in our spot, and I figured I could ask something of the two of you- well… maybe.”
“Go on,” the woman with the book murmured, peering through her thin wire-framed glasses. She did not seem pleased. “And I swear, if you start trying to court us… well, let’s say I’ll figure it out once I get there.”
“Gods, why does everyone assume that I’m trying to get something like that from you?”
“Because you’re attractive,” Xander offered, “However, if I’m the one to speak, I think it would be far less intimidating. I’m just a sad-looking kid.”
“I like you,” the artist said, seeming amused, “Now what did you come to ask of us?”
(I remember this one made my friend laugh at least.)

Cain raced forward. Both his hands gripped the hilt of his large blade, eyes glowing. They were no longer the dark amber, but instead bright yellow with black, slit pupils. Eyes that were all too familiar with that of the red dragon who sworn its life to his own. Only Jun was nowhere in sight. Where the dragon was, only his rider knew.
The man suddenly leapt upwards, leaving the ground below. Cain then swung downwards, his speed increasing as he fell. The wind whipped his cloak behind him in a wild frenzy.
Dante, or the thing that was once the man, seemingly made a clicking sound. It swung the corrupted weapon it had created, a vicious looking scythe, upwards.
The blades of both males collided with a loud, metallic clang. As they met, the ground cracked beneath their feet, a shockwave emitting from their position. Neither were giving in as the air swirled around them.
Cain's yellow eyes glared at the thing. The male seemingly released an inhuman growl. He shoved forward, forcing Dante to step backwards. Cain knew what the other was, what the corrupted were capable of, hell, he had been there when the first sighting of the corruption appeared. It was a learning curve at the time, for both man and dragon, but they managed to get through, despite the massive losses.
As for the corrupted human, the creature shoved right back. It seemed there were no eyes, but Cain could feel it's hungry gaze, the thousands of whispers hissing in his mind: "Revoke the frailties of flesh and be consumed. Join us brother…put aside your mortal shell…Join us brother…"
Cain rose his mental shield, to keep the whispers from distracting him. That's all he would need. The male's eyes glowed brightly. He released a roar, a fiery ring suddenly exploding around his body.
Almost instantly, as the fire spread, did the corrupted release a screech, quickly retreating away from the flames. The creature was seemingly squirming, the corruption burnt black in several places along the bio-armor.
Not one to waste an opportunity, Cain was once again covering ground towards his enemy. The male released another cry, lunging forward with his blade aimed to impale Dante. Flames danced along Cain's blade, to make sure he would put an end to the corrupted fiend.
Cain hadn't expected Dante's healing factor to be so quick. Just as his blade should've hit it's mark, struck only air. The man had no time to move as several vine-like tendrils suddenly impaled his chest and stomach. He felt himself being lifted off the ground, the pain intensifying.
The corrupted stood behind him, the tendrils attached to its back. A clicking emitted, followed by what sounded like thousands of insects crawling. Looked at closely, there appeared to be movement along the tendrils, seemingly confirming the corrupted creatures moving towards the man.
"Brave, but foolish," Dante's voice sounded, echoed by several other voices, "You fought valiantly human, but in the end, the corruption consumes all."
Cain could hardly do anything. He was suspended in the air, his blade laying on the ground off to the side, out of his reach. The man coughed, blood spattering his front. His once yellow eyes were once again amber. Cain released a shaky sigh, feeling he was done. If the corruption were to spread through his body, Cain knew nothing would be safe from him if he were to become one of the corrupted. He started to slowly close his eyes, hearing the corruption draw closer to his body. The male felt his eyelids grow heavier. Blood continued to flow from his wounds, leaking out of the corners of his mouth.
~Cain…Cain…CAIN~.

I second that! Great job!

"Oliver," Jon said, taking his place beside his friend, "Before you do this, I just wanted to tell you….I love you. A lot. I think I always have." Oliver didn't look surprised, and he only sighed.
"Half the damn country is in love with me, Jon. But I don't- I can't love them. Emily was the only one I could love, and she's gone now. You know as well as I do that she isn't coming back. And neither am I."
"There has to be another way," Jon insisted.
"A prisoner exchange is the only way. Me for them."

"Come on let's get some italian."
"Sure why not, haven't had it in like a century."
"Cool, same."
"If you were wrong about this it is suicide just saying."
"I know, but i would rather love to die by italian food."

The golden dragonelle shifted. Her head lifted, green eyes looking downwards at the body between her paws. The creature leaned downward, nuzzling Damon, body cold to the touch.
Her eyes held little to no light. The spine along her back was flat, wings limp on either side of her.
It wasn't right…this isn't right…
"I…I-I…why…j-just why…"
Once again Farah leaned her head down, nudging at Damon's limp form. She seemingly paused for a moment. Her jaws twitched, the scales shimmering from the wetness of falling tears. The dragonelle thought she heard the sound of a beating heart…but it was impossible…there was no heart there to beat anymore…
It was pointless to keep hoping…to keep praying. Her head finally settled back down, eyes closing. The tears continued to steadily stream down the sides of her muzzle. Farah's horns seemed to emit a soft glow.
"Why did he have to be taken…he died for me…yet I did nothing to help him…I truly am weak…a pitiful coward…I didn't even let him know how I felt…t-that…"
The dragonelle released a rattling sigh, struggling as she choked, "I am wasting my breath…but I-I-I…I love you…I should've let you known before…b-but I was afraid…afraid of how you would respond…and even more so afraid of my father…I-I should have told you…but now it's too late…"

"Come on let's get some italian."
"Sure why not, haven't had it in like a century."
"Cool, same."
"If you were wrong about this it is suicide just saying."
"I know, but i would rather love to die by italian food."

Why is this me???

ARE YOU A VAMPIRE?

ARE YOU A VAMPIRE?

Well I dislike sunlight and enjoy Italian food…….maybe??

ARE YOU A VAMPIRE?

Well I dislike sunlight and enjoy Italian food…….maybe??

Same though, I walk down the street after i get off my bus with my hood up.

"Unsophisticated?" Meg seethed, almost shaking with anger. How dare Cole, of all people, even suggest that? "I'm sophisticated. I'm sophisticated as hell!"

The third one reminds me a little bit of a real life conversation I had with my friend…

Here's a few from the first chapter of my NaNoWriMo project:

"When he was younger he used to compare it to getting stabbed from the inside out. Now that he had actually been stabbed, however, he felt like the comparison was a massive exaggeration."

"Crispin didn’t hate his powers quite as much as he hated being as tall as the average thirteen year old."

edit, here's one more:

"Crispin carried six knives with him at all times, but somehow it was his being ability to fly that made him dangerous."