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Glamour Lust fic, untitled part 4
Apr. 19th, 2003 12:12 pmpart 4
(note: The name Mara means bitter, as in "Call me not Naomi [meaning = pleasantness, beautiful], call me Mara [meaning = bitterness] : for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me. Ruth 1:19-21
Because Mark is not a Marcia, of a Stacey, the only other feminised names that I could think of
Also, I've figured out what's so difficult about writing Mark. he doesn't use diminutives, nick-names or endearments. He even calls Davy by his full name, which frankly, I think he only does to be difficult.)
Davy watched Mark flirt with the blond man at the bar with the grim fascination of a passer-by looking at a car-crash, only grateful that he was too far away to hear what they were saying. Mark said something to the man, took a deep breath and said something else, leaning in to touch the man's arm and Davy had seen enough seccubae at work to realise how lethal that touch could be. Mark said something else and the man looked about to object, but Mark bent over and whispered something in his ear, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder, the other disappearing briefly down the front of his jeans. The man's knees buckled and he went down, kneeling at her side. Mark stroked his head, his hand lingering at the back of his neck while he said something that made the man close his eyes and look absurdly grateful. Davy turned to face Iolanthe.
( 'We've got to get him...' )
(note: The name Mara means bitter, as in "Call me not Naomi [meaning = pleasantness, beautiful], call me Mara [meaning = bitterness] : for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me. Ruth 1:19-21
Because Mark is not a Marcia, of a Stacey, the only other feminised names that I could think of
Also, I've figured out what's so difficult about writing Mark. he doesn't use diminutives, nick-names or endearments. He even calls Davy by his full name, which frankly, I think he only does to be difficult.)
Davy watched Mark flirt with the blond man at the bar with the grim fascination of a passer-by looking at a car-crash, only grateful that he was too far away to hear what they were saying. Mark said something to the man, took a deep breath and said something else, leaning in to touch the man's arm and Davy had seen enough seccubae at work to realise how lethal that touch could be. Mark said something else and the man looked about to object, but Mark bent over and whispered something in his ear, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder, the other disappearing briefly down the front of his jeans. The man's knees buckled and he went down, kneeling at her side. Mark stroked his head, his hand lingering at the back of his neck while he said something that made the man close his eyes and look absurdly grateful. Davy turned to face Iolanthe.
( 'We've got to get him...' )
