Diana Monroe | Paparazzi (gimme_deets) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-10-19 16:42:00 |
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Entry tags: | democratic party, paparazzi |
Who: Paparazzi and Democratic Party
What: Girl time.
When: Today, around lunchtime.
Where: That little felafel place on Fourth Street.
There was nothing Diana loved more than tourists seeing their first "real-life" celebrity. Their whole bodies lit up, this childlike wonder that was so endearing, so foreign from the predation with which she viewed them. It was that same look, of a lion stalking its prey, that she settled on Mark as they paid for their felafel wraps and started down Fourth Street in awkward silence.
It was always so obvious when a god was too used to one form, she thought. There it was, the difference in how he crossed his legs, how he stood- even as a woman, Mark stood like a man, like he was constantly at a urinal. There was no hip sway to his walk, and he dug into his food without pause. God, if this form was as famous, Diana would plaster pictures of him/her with tahini on his face all over the Daily Star- pundits, it would say, they're just like us.
Diana nudged him with her elbow. "You're walking like a truck driver," she remarked cheerfully.