Most of my friendslist are writers with a few artists tossed in. And although I don't always comment on your posts, I do always read them. And I do notice styles, details, certain turns of phrase that are uniquely you. Or at least I think I do
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And it was true; the young thing was an artist, of dance, paints, flowers...perhaps most importantly, an artist of words. When the true artisan spoke, one could hear the years of training, picture the amusement there for mirth, or even reconsider one's own mind...these highly skilled, walking dolls were renowned for the art they made of conversation. Then, of course, it would occur to one that a good toy should do tricks...and naturally, this was done.At the present, the Lords and Ladies were in debate. The women hid their jealousy behind bejeweled hands, and they ( ... )
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wow.
You rule. *Grins* Or do you suck?
Right-on-target, love.
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Kisame turned to the sound of her voice, then froze, his jaw dropping. “Whoa! B00bs!”
Tsunade did her part by looking the sharky adventurer over with blatantly predatory interest. And Kisame...didn’t appear turned off by that in the least.
“Hey, baby.” The Mist-nin’s confident grin showed entirely too many teeth for Gai’s peace of mind. “Wanna take a walk on the wild side?”
“No!” cried Gai. “Lines like that will convince her that you’ve moved past the flames of youth and into the embers of middle age!”
But as Tsunade turned to the taller shinobi, smiling broadly, Gai remembered that she was technically far past the flames of youth and quite possibly into the flare-up of a midlife crisis. Or a hot flash. He didn’t want to think about that part, though.
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if it turns out you're someone i know, i'll go hide my head in shame.
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