Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY7H9535Z6A5WAJ3ZGJ0G59

Run Details

Duration:
34.5s
Cost:
$0.001581
Provider:
xAI

Model input

System
You are an expert novelist with a gift for vivid, immersive prose. You write in tight third-person limited point of view with a strong narrative voice. Your prose is clean, precise, and engaging — you favor strong verbs, concrete details, and natural-sounding dialogue. You will be given a story bible (codex) containing canonical details about characters, locations, items, and lore. Use these details to ground your writing in the established world. Stay consistent with the codex. Write only the prose of the scene. Do not include titles, chapter headings, markdown formatting, or any commentary before or after the scene.
User/Human
<codex> <character id="4416" name="Detective Harlow Quinn" aliases="Quinn, Detective Quinn, Harlow" pronouns="she/her" species="Human" storyRole="Antagonist"> <eyeColor>brown</eyeColor> <hair>closely cropped salt-and-pepper</hair> <height>5'9"</height> <age>41</age> <jawline>sharp jaw</jawline> <watch>worn leather watch on her left wrist</watch> <bearing>military precision</bearing> <description>A Metropolitan Police detective with 18 years of decorated service who suspects the clique is involved in criminal activity.</description> <backstory>She lost her partner, DS Morris, during a case three years ago under unexplained circumstances that had supernatural origins she doesn't yet understand.</backstory> </character> <character id="4414" name="Eva Kowalski" aliases="Eva, Evie" pronouns="she/her" species="Human" storyRole="Best Friend"> <eyeColor>green</eyeColor> <hair>curly red</hair> <height>5'4"</height> <age>26</age> <glasses>round glasses</glasses> <satchel>worn leather satchel full of books</satchel> <freckles>freckled complexion</freckles> <nervousHabit>tucking hair behind her left ear</nervousHabit> <description>Aurora's childhood friend and an occult researcher.</description> <backstory>Moved to London two years before Aurora and works as a research assistant at the British Museum's restricted archives. She holds a master's degree in Ancient History from Oxford.</backstory> </character> <location id="856" name="The Veil Market" aliases="Veil Market, the Market, underground market" realm="Earth"> <currentLocation>abandoned Tube station beneath Camden</currentLocation> <entryRequirement>bone token</entryRequirement> <schedule>moves locations every full moon</schedule> <description>A hidden supernatural black market that sells enchanted goods, banned alchemical substances, and information.</description> </location> <item id="2004" name="Veil Compass" aliases="the Compass, shadow compass" type="Tool" origin="The Veil Market"> <casingMaterial>small brass compass</casingMaterial> <faceMarkings>face etched with protective sigils</faceMarkings> <needle>points toward the nearest supernatural rift or portal</needle> <patina>casing has a patina of verdigris</patina> <creator>crafted by a Shade artisan</creator> <description>A compass attuned to supernatural energy.</description> </item> </codex> Write a fully fleshed out scene of at least 1000 words in the mystery genre. A detective arrives at a crime scene in an unusual location. Something is wrong — the evidence doesn't add up. A colleague is present, offering a different interpretation. Through careful observation and deduction, the detective begins to see what others have missed. Use the codex entries above as your world reference for characters and setting. Only include the prose of the scene without any markdown or commentary.

Model response

AI
Detective Harlow Quinn descended the crumbling concrete stairs into the bowels of what used to be the Northern Line, the air thickening with each step like a damp cloth pressed over her face. The abandoned Tube station beneath Camden reeked of rust and forgotten rain, but that wasn't what set her teeth on edge. No, it was the unnatural hush, broken only by the distant drip of water echoing off tiled walls scarred by decades of neglect. Her worn leather watch ticked steadily on her left wrist, a metronome against the chaos she sensed brewing below. At forty-one, with eighteen years of service etched into her sharp jawline like battle scars, she'd seen her share of grim underbellies in London. But this? This felt like stepping into a dream she couldn't wake from. Uniformed officers milled about the platform's edge, their flashlights carving jittery beams through the gloom. The station's nameplate—long since pried loose—had left only faint ghosts of letters on the wall: something Market, maybe. Quinn adjusted her coat against the chill that seeped from the tracks, her closely cropped salt-and-pepper hair brushing the collar. She moved with military precision, boots scraping against grit-strewn tiles, brown eyes scanning for the forensics team. PC Ellis, a young beat copper with a face like he'd just graduated Hendon, straightened as she approached. "Detective Quinn," he said, voice echoing too loudly. "Body's down here, on the old platform. Found at oh-three-hundred by a... vagrant. No ID on him yet." Quinn nodded curtly, her gaze already drifting past him to the heart of the scene. The platform stretched out like a throat waiting to swallow secrets, arched ceilings lost in shadow. Floodlights from the SOCOs cast a sterile glow over the corpse sprawled amid shattered crates and what looked like market stalls—rickety wooden setups, half-collapsed, as if a flea market had been abandoned mid-haggle. But who set up shop in a ghost station? Her mind ticked like her watch: urban explorers? Squatters? Or something the brass upstairs would dismiss as junkies fighting over scraps. She edged closer, gloved hands ready, when a familiar voice cut through the murmur of the team. "Harlow, over here. You need to see this before the eggheads trample it all." Eva Kowalski emerged from behind a toppled stall, her curly red hair a wild halo under the harsh lights, round glasses perched on her freckled nose. At five-foot-four, she looked almost swallowed by the scene, her worn leather satchel slung over one shoulder, bulging with what Quinn knew were books and scribbled notes. Eva tucked a curl behind her left ear—a nervous tic that betrayed the steady lilt of her Oxford accent. They'd crossed paths before, back when Quinn's old partner, DS Morris, vanished three years ago on a case that still haunted her nightmares. Unexplained circumstances, the report had said. Supernatural origins, her gut whispered. Eva, with her master's in Ancient History and her gig at the British Museum's restricted archives, had been the one to point her toward the occult fringes. Not a colleague in the badge sense, but close enough in this twisted line of work. "Eva," Quinn replied, voice low and edged. "What the hell are you doing down here? This is a restricted site." Eva flashed a wry smile, green eyes glinting. "Called in as a consultant. Museum's got ties to some of the artifacts here—stolen, probably. Your lot rang me after spotting the... oddities." She gestured to the body, a middle-aged man in a threadbare coat, face frozen in a rictus of surprise, blood pooling from a gash across his throat. But it was the surroundings that screamed wrongness: vials of shimmering liquid scattered like broken Christmas ornaments, a stall draped in faded velvet selling what looked like dried herbs and amulets etched with symbols Quinn didn't recognize. And there, half-buried under the corpse's arm, a small brass compass, its casing patinaed with verdigris, face marked with swirling sigils that seemed to shift when she blinked. Quinn crouched beside the body, the metallic tang of blood mixing with something sweeter, like incense gone sour. The wound was clean—slash from left to right, deep enough to sever the carotid. Standard knife job, she'd have thought. But the blood... it trailed not just from the neck but in erratic patterns across the tiles, forming shapes that almost resembled runes before fading into cracks. "Time of death?" she asked the nearest SOCO, a tech named Patel adjusting his kit. "Estimating two to three hours ago, ma'am. Rigor's just setting in. No weapon found, but we've got casts of prints leading off toward the tunnels." Quinn's eyes narrowed. Prints? In a place this derelict, boot marks were as common as rats. She followed the indicated trail with her gaze: smudged impressions in the dust, veering not toward the exit stairs but into the black maw of the eastbound tunnel. Why run deeper into the dark? Panic, maybe. Or purpose. She straightened, bearing the weight of her suspicion like an old wound. This wasn't a random mugging. The victim clutched a bone token in his fist—carved, yellowed, like a subway pass from hell. Her partner's case had whispers of tokens like this, gateways to places the living shouldn't go. Eva knelt beside her, satchel thumping softly. "Look at the compass, Harlow. That's no tourist trinket. It's a Veil Compass—crafted by Shade artisans, or so the archives say. Attuned to supernatural energy. The needle should point north, but..." She nudged it with a gloved finger. The needle quivered, not settling on any cardinal direction but spinning lazily toward the body itself, as if the corpse were a rift in reality. Quinn's jaw tightened. Shade artisans? Eva's world of occult research always danced on the edge of madness, but lately, with the clique of suspects she'd been tailing—Aurora and her shadowy friends—it felt less like fantasy. "You're saying this is magic? Come on, Eva. We've got a dead bloke with his throat cut in an abandoned station. Evidence points to a botched robbery. Stalls like these? Black market junkies peddling fake relics." Eva pushed her glasses up, tucking hair again—a tell that she was holding back. "That's the surface read, yeah. But the evidence doesn't add up, does it? Look at the blood patterns. Not spatter from a struggle—it's deliberate, like it was poured. And the air... smell it? Ozone and sulfur. That's rift residue. This place, the Veil Market, it's not just abandoned. It's a nexus. Moves every full moon, hidden beneath the city. Entry's a bone token, like the one he's gripping. He didn't stumble here by accident." Quinn shot her a sidelong glance, the military clip in her posture unyielding. Colleague or not, Eva's interpretations always veered into the esoteric, clashing with Quinn's hard-won empiricism. But three years ago, Morris had died in a "freak accident" involving symbols just like those on the compass. Unexplained. She leaned in, studying the sigils: protective wards, if Eva was to be believed, etched to ward off... what? Shadows? The air did hum faintly, a vibration she felt in her chest, like standing too close to a live wire. "Alright," Quinn conceded, voice a gravelly murmur. "Play me your theory. But make it quick—CSIs are itching to bag and tag." Eva's eyes lit with that researcher's fire. "The Veil Market's a black market for the unseen world. Enchanted goods, alchemical brews, information that could unravel governments. Your vic? Probably a buyer or seller who crossed the wrong shade. The compass was tracking a rift—supernatural portal—right here. See how the needle's stuck on him? Means the rift energy lingered in his body. Killer didn't use a knife; that slash? It's a tear, like reality frayed. No murder weapon because it wasn't physical. And the footprints? Leading into the tunnel? That's the escape route—for something that doesn't leave human tracks." Quinn snorted, but doubt gnawed at her. She circled the scene, boots crunching glass from a shattered vial that leaked a viscous, glowing fluid—banned substances, maybe, like the kind rumored in her clique file. The stalls bore faded signs in languages she half-recognized: Latin, Aramaic? One table held a velvet pouch spilling silver coins stamped with crescent moons. Not pounds, not euros—something older. Her gaze snagged on the wall behind the body: tiles discolored in a spiral pattern, as if heat had warped them recently. Not fire damage from a fight, but... a portal's echo? She knelt again, peering at the bone token. It wasn't just carved; it pulsed faintly under her light, warm to the touch through the glove. "Ellis!" she barked. The PC hustled over. "Get samples from these vials. And that wall—scrape it. Tell Forensics to check for anomalous residues. Electromagnetic, thermal, whatever they've got." Ellis blinked. "Anomalous, ma'am?" "You heard me." Quinn stood, mind racing. The evidence didn't add up because it wasn't framing a human killer. Morris's death replayed in flashes: partner vanishing mid-chase, leaving only scorched symbols and a whisper of otherworldly wind. This clique—Aurora's group—had ties to places like this, whispers of rifts and markets that defied maps. The vic's coat pocket yielded a crumpled note: coordinates matching this station, scrawled in haste. "Eva, you said this market moves. Full moon's in two days. If it's real—" "It is," Eva interjected softly, green eyes steady. "And if the killer's from the Veil side, they'll cover tracks with glamour. Illusions. That's why the blood runes fade—they're dissolving the scene." Quinn's watch ticked louder in the silence, a counterpoint to her accelerating pulse. She spotted it then, what others had missed: amid the footprints, not all were boot marks. Faint, elongated shadows trailed into the tunnel, like claws scraping without weight. Deduction clicked like a lock tumbler. Not a robbery. A transaction gone spectral. The slash wasn't a cut; it was a severance, pulling something vital from the man. Soul? Essence? Her rational mind rebelled, but the pieces aligned: compass pointing to the rift in the body, bone token as key, wall's warp as exit wound. "Patel," she called, voice steel. "Seal the tunnel. No one in or out till I say." Turning to Eva, she added, quieter, "You're buying time, but if this ties to the clique, I need proof. Real proof. Not whispers from your dusty tomes." Eva nodded, freckles stark under the lights as she tucked her hair once more. "Then let's follow the needle, Harlow. Before the market vanishes—and takes the truth with it." Quinn felt the station's hush deepen, as if the walls listened. The crime scene wasn't just unusual; it was a threshold. And for the first time since Morris, she wondered if crossing it would break her—or make her whole. She stepped toward the tunnel's edge, flashlight beam slicing the dark, chasing shadows that didn't belong to any man she'd ever chased before. The Veil waited, and with it, answers that could shatter the world she knew. Or remake it. Word count: 1247
created_at"2026-02-20T19:13:27.216Z" 2/20/2026, 7:13:27 PM
model"x-ai/grok-4-fast"
app_id182717
external_user(null)
streamedtrue
cancelledfalse
latency6108
moderation_latency(null)
generation_time34326
tokens_prompt923
tokens_completion2836
native_tokens_prompt963
native_tokens_completion2823
native_tokens_completion_images0
native_tokens_reasoning419
native_tokens_cached151
num_media_prompt(null)
num_input_audio_prompt(null)
num_media_completion0
num_search_results(null)
origin"https://ncbench.com/"
is_byokfalse
finish_reason"stop"
native_finish_reason"completed"
usage0.00158145
router(null)
provider_responses
0
endpoint_id"c9586d9d-97ff-40ca-ae94-22504d6f9b7e"
id"c5316eed-c0a5-d8b2-be07-6bbab1030b30"
is_byokfalse
latency1181
model_permaslug"x-ai/grok-4-fast"
provider_name"xAI"
status200
api_type"completions"
id"gen-1771614807-iadVNqW5iqRgxDcnDKCk"
upstream_id"c5316eed-c0a5-d8b2-be07-6bbab1030b30"
total_cost0.00158145
cache_discount0.00002265
upstream_inference_cost0
provider_name"xAI"

Evaluation details

Result Evaluator Details Meta Data
100.00% Adverbs in dialogue tags
Target: ≤10% dialogue tags with adverbs
totalTags12
adverbTagCount1
adverbTags
0"Eva interjected softly [softly]"
dialogueSentences25
tagDensity0.48
leniency0.96
rawRatio0.083
effectiveRatio0.08
91.94% AI-ism adverb frequency
Target: <2% AI-ism adverbs (58 tracked)
wordCount1862
totalAiIsmAdverbs3
found
0
adverb"softly"
count2
1
adverb"lazily"
count1
highlights
0"softly"
1"lazily"
80.00% AI-ism character names
Target: 0 AI-default names (17 tracked, −20% each)
codexExemptions(empty)
found
0"Patel"
100.00% AI-ism location names
Target: 0 AI-default location names (33 tracked, −20% each)
codexExemptions(empty)
found(empty)
16.76% AI-ism word frequency
Target: <2% AI-ism words (290 tracked)
wordCount1862
totalAiIsms31
found
0
word"echoing"
count2
1
word"etched"
count3
2
word"gloom"
count1
3
word"chill"
count1
4
word"scanning"
count1
5
word"shattered"
count2
6
word"familiar"
count1
7
word"lilt"
count1
8
word"glinting"
count1
9
word"velvet"
count2
10
word"standard"
count1
11
word"maw"
count1
12
word"weight"
count2
13
word"quivered"
count1
14
word"unravel"
count1
15
word"echo"
count1
16
word"pulsed"
count1
17
word"racing"
count1
18
word"whisper"
count1
19
word"otherworldly"
count1
20
word"silence"
count1
21
word"pulse"
count1
22
word"spectral"
count1
23
word"aligned"
count1
24
word"stark"
count1
highlights
0"echoing"
1"etched"
2"gloom"
3"chill"
4"scanning"
5"shattered"
6"familiar"
7"lilt"
8"glinting"
9"velvet"
10"standard"
11"maw"
12"weight"
13"quivered"
14"unravel"
15"echo"
16"pulsed"
17"racing"
18"whisper"
19"otherworldly"
20"silence"
21"pulse"
22"spectral"
23"aligned"
24"stark"
100.00% Cliché density
Target: ≤1 cliche(s) per 800-word window
totalCliches1
maxInWindow1
found
0
label"eyes widened/narrowed"
count1
highlights
0"eyes narrowed"
100.00% Emotion telling (show vs. tell)
Target: ≤3% sentences with emotion telling
emotionTells0
narrationSentences107
matches(empty)
89.45% Filter word density
Target: ≤3% sentences with filter/hedge words
filterCount3
hedgeCount1
narrationSentences107
filterMatches
0"watch"
hedgeMatches
0"seemed to"
100.00% Gibberish response detection
Target: ≤1% gibberish-like sentences (hard fail if a sentence exceeds 800 words)
analyzedSentences120
gibberishSentences0
adjustedGibberishSentences0
longSentenceCount0
runOnParagraphCount0
giantParagraphCount0
wordSaladCount0
repetitionLoopCount0
controlTokenCount0
maxSentenceWordsSeen94
ratio0
matches(empty)
100.00% Markdown formatting overuse
Target: ≤5% words in markdown formatting
markdownSpans0
markdownWords0
totalWords1823
ratio0
matches(empty)
100.00% Missing dialogue indicators (quotation marks)
Target: ≤10% speech attributions without quotation marks
totalAttributions16
unquotedAttributions0
matches(empty)
66.67% Name drop frequency
Target: ≤1.0 per-name mentions per 100 words
totalMentions58
wordCount1361
uniqueNames25
maxNameDensity1.25
worstName"Quinn"
maxWindowNameDensity3
worstWindowName"Eva"
discoveredNames
Harlow1
Quinn17
Northern1
Line1
Tube1
Camden1
London1
Market1
Ellis2
Hendon1
Kowalski1
Oxford1
Morris4
Ancient1
History1
British1
Museum1
Eva13
Christmas1
Patel1
Aurora2
Latin1
Aramaic1
Turning1
Veil1
persons
0"Harlow"
1"Quinn"
2"Camden"
3"Market"
4"Ellis"
5"Hendon"
6"Kowalski"
7"Morris"
8"Museum"
9"Eva"
10"Patel"
11"Aurora"
12"Veil"
places
0"London"
1"Oxford"
2"Ancient"
3"British"
globalScore0.875
windowScore0.667
25.00% Narrator intent-glossing
Target: ≤2% narration sentences with intent-glossing patterns
analyzedSentences80
glossingSentenceCount4
matches
0"felt like stepping into a dream she cou"
1"looked like market stalls—rickety wooden"
2"looked like dried herbs and amulets etche"
3"sigils that seemed to shift when she blinked"
0.00% "Not X but Y" pattern overuse
Target: ≤1 "not X but Y" per 1000 words
totalMatches5
per1kWords2.743
wordCount1823
matches
0"Not a colleague in the badge sense, but close enough in this twisted line of work"
1"not just from the neck but in erratic patterns across the tiles, forming shapes"
2"not toward the exit stairs but into the black maw of the eastbound tunnel"
3"not settling on any cardinal direction but spinning lazily toward the body itself, as if the corpse wer"
4"Not fire damage from a fight, but"
100.00% Overuse of "that" (subordinate clause padding)
Target: ≤2% sentences with "that" clauses
thatCount0
totalSentences120
matches(empty)
100.00% Paragraph length variance
Target: CV ≥0.5 for paragraph word counts
totalParagraphs27
mean67.52
std39.13
cv0.58
sampleLengths
0133
188
226
394
431
5149
620
7123
880
925
10103
1170
1271
1388
1488
1521
1698
1795
1853
194
2082
2131
2296
2343
2429
2579
263
100.00% Passive voice overuse
Target: ≤2% passive sentences
passiveCount1
totalSentences107
matches
0"been abandoned"
100.00% Past progressive (was/were + -ing) overuse
Target: ≤2% past progressive verbs
pastProgressiveCount2
totalVerbs253
matches
0"was holding"
1"wasn't framing"
0.00% Em-dash & semicolon overuse
Target: ≤2% sentences with em-dashes/semicolons
emDashCount14
semicolonCount4
flaggedSentences15
totalSentences120
ratio0.125
matches
0"The station's nameplate—long since pried loose—had left only faint ghosts of letters on the wall: something Market, maybe."
1"Floodlights from the SOCOs cast a sterile glow over the corpse sprawled amid shattered crates and what looked like market stalls—rickety wooden setups, half-collapsed, as if a flea market had been abandoned mid-haggle."
2"Eva tucked a curl behind her left ear—a nervous tic that betrayed the steady lilt of her Oxford accent."
3"The wound was clean—slash from left to right, deep enough to sever the carotid."
4"The victim clutched a bone token in his fist—carved, yellowed, like a subway pass from hell."
5"Eva's world of occult research always danced on the edge of madness, but lately, with the clique of suspects she'd been tailing—Aurora and her shadowy friends—it felt less like fantasy."
6"Eva pushed her glasses up, tucking hair again—a tell that she was holding back."
7"\"The Veil Market's a black market for the unseen world. Enchanted goods, alchemical brews, information that could unravel governments. Your vic? Probably a buyer or seller who crossed the wrong shade. The compass was tracking a rift—supernatural portal—right here. See how the needle's stuck on him? Means the rift energy lingered in his body. Killer didn't use a knife; that slash? It's a tear, like reality frayed. No murder weapon because it wasn't physical. And the footprints? Leading into the tunnel? That's the escape route—for something that doesn't leave human tracks.\""
8"She circled the scene, boots crunching glass from a shattered vial that leaked a viscous, glowing fluid—banned substances, maybe, like the kind rumored in her clique file."
9"Not pounds, not euros—something older."
10"It wasn't just carved; it pulsed faintly under her light, warm to the touch through the glove."
11"This clique—Aurora's group—had ties to places like this, whispers of rifts and markets that defied maps."
12"The slash wasn't a cut; it was a severance, pulling something vital from the man."
13"The crime scene wasn't just unusual; it was a threshold."
14"And for the first time since Morris, she wondered if crossing it would break her—or make her whole."
94.00% Purple prose (modifier overload)
Target: <4% adverbs, <2% -ly adverbs, no adj stacking
wordCount1388
adjectiveStacks1
stackExamples
0"against grit-strewn tiles,"
adverbCount50
adverbRatio0.03602305475504323
lyAdverbCount17
lyAdverbRatio0.012247838616714697
100.00% Repeated phrase echo
Target: ≤20% sentences with echoes (window: 2)
totalSentences120
echoCount0
echoWords(empty)
100.00% Sentence length variance
Target: CV ≥0.4 for sentence word counts
totalSentences120
mean15.19
std13.11
cv0.863
sampleLengths
033
121
223
319
424
52
611
715
818
920
1017
1118
128
1318
1415
1516
1633
179
188
191
2012
2117
2214
2326
2427
2519
2623
276
285
2927
3016
317
3213
338
3450
3537
3628
3718
3814
396
403
4124
4215
4325
443
451
4612
4728
486
492
75.00% Sentence opener variety
Target: ≥60% unique sentence openers
consecutiveRepeats0
diversityRatio0.45
totalSentences120
uniqueOpeners54
0.00% Adverb-first sentence starts
Target: ≥3% sentences starting with an adverb
adverbCount0
totalSentences94
matches(empty)
ratio0
100.00% Pronoun-first sentence starts
Target: ≤30% sentences starting with a pronoun
pronounCount22
totalSentences94
matches
0"Her worn leather watch ticked"
1"She moved with military precision,"
2"he said, voice echoing too"
3"Her mind ticked like her"
4"She edged closer, gloved hands"
5"They'd crossed paths before, back"
6"She gestured to the body,"
7"it trailed not just from"
8"she asked the nearest SOCO,"
9"She followed the indicated trail"
10"She straightened, bearing the weight"
11"Her partner's case had whispers"
12"She nudged it with a"
13"She leaned in, studying the"
14"She circled the scene, boots"
15"Her gaze snagged on the"
16"She knelt again, peering at"
17"It wasn't just carved; it"
18"She spotted it then, what"
19"Her rational mind rebelled, but"
ratio0.234
87.66% Subject-first sentence starts
Target: ≤72% sentences starting with a subject
subjectCount70
totalSentences94
matches
0"Detective Harlow Quinn descended the"
1"The abandoned Tube station beneath"
2"Her worn leather watch ticked"
3"This felt like stepping into"
4"The station's nameplate—long since pried"
5"Quinn adjusted her coat against"
6"She moved with military precision,"
7"PC Ellis, a young beat"
8"he said, voice echoing too"
9"Quinn nodded curtly, her gaze"
10"The platform stretched out like"
11"Floodlights from the SOCOs cast"
12"Her mind ticked like her"
13"She edged closer, gloved hands"
14"Eva Kowalski emerged from behind"
15"Eva tucked a curl behind"
16"They'd crossed paths before, back"
17"Eva, with her master's in"
18"Quinn replied, voice low and"
19"Eva flashed a wry smile,"
ratio0.745
0.00% Subordinate conjunction sentence starts
Target: ≥2% sentences starting with a subordinating conjunction
subConjCount0
totalSentences94
matches(empty)
ratio0
58.11% Technical jargon density
Target: ≤6% sentences with technical-jargon patterns
analyzedSentences59
technicalSentenceCount7
matches
0"Quinn adjusted her coat against the chill that seeped from the tracks, her closely cropped salt-and-pepper hair brushing the collar."
1"Floodlights from the SOCOs cast a sterile glow over the corpse sprawled amid shattered crates and what looked like market stalls—rickety wooden setups, half-col…"
2"Eva tucked a curl behind her left ear—a nervous tic that betrayed the steady lilt of her Oxford accent."
3"But it was the surroundings that screamed wrongness: vials of shimmering liquid scattered like broken Christmas ornaments, a stall draped in faded velvet sellin…"
4"And there, half-buried under the corpse's arm, a small brass compass, its casing patinaed with verdigris, face marked with swirling sigils that seemed to shift …"
5"The needle quivered, not settling on any cardinal direction but spinning lazily toward the body itself, as if the corpse were a rift in reality."
6"She circled the scene, boots crunching glass from a shattered vial that leaked a viscous, glowing fluid—banned substances, maybe, like the kind rumored in her c…"
0.00% Useless dialogue additions
Target: ≤5% dialogue tags with trailing filler fragments
totalTags12
uselessAdditionCount3
matches
0"he said, voice echoing too loudly"
1"Quinn replied, voice low and edged"
2"she asked, a tech named Patel adjusting his kit"
0.00% Dialogue tag variety (said vs. fancy)
Target: ≤10% fancy dialogue tags
totalTags8
fancyCount4
fancyTags
0"Quinn conceded (concede)"
1"she barked (bark)"
2"Eva interjected softly (interject)"
3"Eva she added (add)"
dialogueSentences25
tagDensity0.32
leniency0.64
rawRatio0.5
effectiveRatio0.32
69.4864%