Theo--you're still reading that? I'm impressed.

askye -- well, I left it and came back to it again today. Just.can't.look.away....

I'm very impressed. Of course I can't look away from maria jackson so...

Of course I can't look away from maria jackson so...

Oh, lord, I saw on DS reporter that there was another of her epics recently. I suffered through several before I finally managed to escape the lure, but it was hard for a while because there was a long period when no one except mj seemed to be posting long stories, so I kept getting lured back in. Triumph of delusions over experience, I guess.

The American? The American had seemed satified with the relationship? Wow, that's... uh, very intimate way of thinking about one's lover. Except not.

It's like that all the way through, really. It's not an incoherent kind of English only spoken/written by maria, but the more one examines Gilda's characterization the more amusing it is.

Ah, Nikita fandom. How I missed your insanity while I was gone.

The union of Ares and Aphrodite, Michael and Nikita, Mars and Venus seemed to be predestined by the gods, by beings much higher than themselves who decreed the mixture as a given. It truly did not matter if Zeus himself opposed the coupling, history was written, recorded, and the emotional and physical bond would serve to shape that part of the philosophy of mankind - strength and affection marrying to build an everlasting bond called love.

The original alpha male and the mega feminine female were cut of the same cloth and made to fit perfectly, like a plug and a socket. Ares contributed the passionate intensity that would define their eternal love affair and Aphrodite would introduce the acceptance and enjoyment of their vulnerability, of their unprotected souls. Michael found under the soft tutelage of his goddess his loving tender side and she found the surrendering of the emotional being that she was. This perfect amalgamation of two deities was a vision his father Zeus feared, as it presented a potential omnipotence that could very well destroy the reigning god’s place as the leader of the celestial supremacy.

So on this day, when the moon and the stars were aligned in perfect harmony, when the bold and the beautiful would merge in a cherubic condemnation of the union in marriage of the goddess born of the foam and the lame god of the forge, Michael arrived at the Center with Mick in tow.

This story started out about a reporter and cults in Austrialia, I swear to God. I have no idea what the hell kind of left turn it took.

She was letting her gold spun hair down and creating with this simple grooming practice a ripple of emotions like none Michael had ever felt. He had a perennial hard-on that would be recorded in the annals of history, dissected by scholars and spoken about for eons to come.

*dissected*? Ouch.

Michael saw her resilience start to melt, her lips became moist, her tongue darted out and her bosoms puckered with the ordinary need of a mortal; did it just get hot in paradise?

“Excuse me Aphrodite, may I make an introduction.” Humbly Mick asked although her ocean eyes were riveted to the physical form of the god of war, and quickly rushed to bury themselves in the greenest of orbs.

a perennial hard-on

It comes up once a year?

At least she spelled annals correctly.

Dana, clearly this author is playing "to the pain," except she's assaulting our perfect eyes instead of echoing in our perfect ears.