Galien Moss
Dec 23rd, 2003, 11:40:07 PM
I do believe I have a plan
To steal the Queen of Neverland
Cause I was in her neighborhood
Feeling just like Robin Hood
With only our love to protect us
Hoping they won't detect us
through the castle's open air
Sliding down the spiral stairs
I do believe I have a plan
To steal the Queen of Neverland
I slipped into her room and said
"Come with me the King is dead"
In the name of lustful just rewards
As Knights shall fall upon their swords
And grant this poor boy's wish tonight
To make the Queen a noble wife
I do believe I have a plan
To steal the Queen of Neverland
When I come breaking down her door
She's the one I'm looking for
Black and white
First you're here then it's cool
It's wrong--it's right--it's right
I'll do whatever I must do
Scale the walls to be with you
And word will spread throughout the land
"He stole the Queen of Neverland"
I do believe I have a plan
To steal the Queen of Neverland
And every boy to become a man
Must steal the Queen of Neverland
Steal the Queen of Neverland
Steal the Queen of Neverland
Never Never Neverland
A long time ago...
It was a sin to engage in intercourse outside the bonds of marriage. There had only been one woman in the history of the little town to do so, and she had been shunned to the point of suicide. It wasn't talked about, and the man involved was never looked at sideways; it was a well known truth that women were seductors, and that they snared men with batting eyelashes and bubbling laughs. He couldn't honestly be blamed. Eventually the incident was talked about less and less, and soon nearly forgotten. Time went on, as it does, and so did the little town.
Four years after the Incident, as it had vaguely become referred to, two things happened in the little town. First, the strange wanderlust people came and set up camp on the edges of the district, bringing with them their flock of raggamuffin children and mangy pets. Second, the missionaries arrived. It was a custom every year for the missionaries to come, baptizing the new infants in the town and giving sermons about the many Evils of the galaxy that multiplied with every passing season.
By chance one of these missionaries came across one of the nomadic visitors. The young man Immanuel Mossman at first felt pity for the woman. Noni had not yet Embraced the Lord and he felt compelled to help her find her way to the Light. Immanuel never once stopped to consider whether or not Noni wanted to see the Light. Nor did he ever pause to think that perhaps she had already found it, and that it just wasn't in the same way that he had.
Noni, for her part, believed that everyone reached their own enlightening; they couldn't be helped along the way, because no one shared the same path. Her people were ancient and of a mindset that had become lost in the galaxy. She had lived a long life, never changing, and went and did what she pleased, free from the binds of any law. Until Immanuel came, she had never wanted for anything. But as soon as the young gypsy set eyes on the straight-backed missionary, she knew that she had to have him, even just for a single night.
What happened next was a culmination of things. Noni relied on the ancient charms and devices of her people, Immanuel on his God and Way. Both were after the same thing, each other, and both were determined to come about it the way they planned. Perhaps it was God, or perhaps it was sorcery, or maybe it was simply fate. But the missionary and the gypsy soon were both suddenly caught up in each other, unable to explain how they had ended up there.
And so it came that the little town had it's second immoral transgression.
Immanuel and Noni fled together, to Corellia, to raise their daughter. Though he knew it was wrong to do so, Immanuel did not ask Noni to marry him. She would have denied him anyway. Somehow there was something very fragile about their relationship; it couldn't be caged, or else it would wither and die. They were happy, yes, but it was a thing that knawed at the back of the missionary's mind.
His child was a sinful possesion.
Present Day...
Galien Moss was neither a fighter nor a lover. She simply was. Some who knew the woman called her shallow. The term was not usually meant in an insulting way, it was just the only way to describe Galien. There was no depth to her. She didn't seem to ponder great anythings, or to feel guilt or shame or regret. The woman just lived and did what she pleased. It was a wonderful life to be sure, but certainly one would expect to feel something...
Plodding down the dark walks of Coruscant, Galien did not make an intimidating figure either. She was small, nearly a midget at four foot eleven, and her vagabond dress made her appear more ridiculous than it did menacing. Her dark-skin was not 'blacker than night', and her eyes held nothing of 'stone cold windows of death' description. In fact, had she done herself up a bit, Galien could have passed for a well-to-do, tax-paying citizen.
There wasn't any real reason for her coming out tonight. She had been restless (unfortunately having inherited her mothers wanderlust) and decided to go and walk until the feeling wore away. A window display of a small shop made her pause; great pewter crosses and rosary beads were spread out on deep green velvet. The instruments reminded her of her father.
The woman stared for another moment and then abruptly turned the corner. Her face collided with somebody's chest and Galien tumbled to the ground--not a far fall from her stature. Still, to be knocked down so callously was not something that Galien appreciated. The woman growled and picked herself up, brushing off her black trousers.
"Why don't ye use yer deadlights, scrap 'eap!?"
To steal the Queen of Neverland
Cause I was in her neighborhood
Feeling just like Robin Hood
With only our love to protect us
Hoping they won't detect us
through the castle's open air
Sliding down the spiral stairs
I do believe I have a plan
To steal the Queen of Neverland
I slipped into her room and said
"Come with me the King is dead"
In the name of lustful just rewards
As Knights shall fall upon their swords
And grant this poor boy's wish tonight
To make the Queen a noble wife
I do believe I have a plan
To steal the Queen of Neverland
When I come breaking down her door
She's the one I'm looking for
Black and white
First you're here then it's cool
It's wrong--it's right--it's right
I'll do whatever I must do
Scale the walls to be with you
And word will spread throughout the land
"He stole the Queen of Neverland"
I do believe I have a plan
To steal the Queen of Neverland
And every boy to become a man
Must steal the Queen of Neverland
Steal the Queen of Neverland
Steal the Queen of Neverland
Never Never Neverland
A long time ago...
It was a sin to engage in intercourse outside the bonds of marriage. There had only been one woman in the history of the little town to do so, and she had been shunned to the point of suicide. It wasn't talked about, and the man involved was never looked at sideways; it was a well known truth that women were seductors, and that they snared men with batting eyelashes and bubbling laughs. He couldn't honestly be blamed. Eventually the incident was talked about less and less, and soon nearly forgotten. Time went on, as it does, and so did the little town.
Four years after the Incident, as it had vaguely become referred to, two things happened in the little town. First, the strange wanderlust people came and set up camp on the edges of the district, bringing with them their flock of raggamuffin children and mangy pets. Second, the missionaries arrived. It was a custom every year for the missionaries to come, baptizing the new infants in the town and giving sermons about the many Evils of the galaxy that multiplied with every passing season.
By chance one of these missionaries came across one of the nomadic visitors. The young man Immanuel Mossman at first felt pity for the woman. Noni had not yet Embraced the Lord and he felt compelled to help her find her way to the Light. Immanuel never once stopped to consider whether or not Noni wanted to see the Light. Nor did he ever pause to think that perhaps she had already found it, and that it just wasn't in the same way that he had.
Noni, for her part, believed that everyone reached their own enlightening; they couldn't be helped along the way, because no one shared the same path. Her people were ancient and of a mindset that had become lost in the galaxy. She had lived a long life, never changing, and went and did what she pleased, free from the binds of any law. Until Immanuel came, she had never wanted for anything. But as soon as the young gypsy set eyes on the straight-backed missionary, she knew that she had to have him, even just for a single night.
What happened next was a culmination of things. Noni relied on the ancient charms and devices of her people, Immanuel on his God and Way. Both were after the same thing, each other, and both were determined to come about it the way they planned. Perhaps it was God, or perhaps it was sorcery, or maybe it was simply fate. But the missionary and the gypsy soon were both suddenly caught up in each other, unable to explain how they had ended up there.
And so it came that the little town had it's second immoral transgression.
Immanuel and Noni fled together, to Corellia, to raise their daughter. Though he knew it was wrong to do so, Immanuel did not ask Noni to marry him. She would have denied him anyway. Somehow there was something very fragile about their relationship; it couldn't be caged, or else it would wither and die. They were happy, yes, but it was a thing that knawed at the back of the missionary's mind.
His child was a sinful possesion.
Present Day...
Galien Moss was neither a fighter nor a lover. She simply was. Some who knew the woman called her shallow. The term was not usually meant in an insulting way, it was just the only way to describe Galien. There was no depth to her. She didn't seem to ponder great anythings, or to feel guilt or shame or regret. The woman just lived and did what she pleased. It was a wonderful life to be sure, but certainly one would expect to feel something...
Plodding down the dark walks of Coruscant, Galien did not make an intimidating figure either. She was small, nearly a midget at four foot eleven, and her vagabond dress made her appear more ridiculous than it did menacing. Her dark-skin was not 'blacker than night', and her eyes held nothing of 'stone cold windows of death' description. In fact, had she done herself up a bit, Galien could have passed for a well-to-do, tax-paying citizen.
There wasn't any real reason for her coming out tonight. She had been restless (unfortunately having inherited her mothers wanderlust) and decided to go and walk until the feeling wore away. A window display of a small shop made her pause; great pewter crosses and rosary beads were spread out on deep green velvet. The instruments reminded her of her father.
The woman stared for another moment and then abruptly turned the corner. Her face collided with somebody's chest and Galien tumbled to the ground--not a far fall from her stature. Still, to be knocked down so callously was not something that Galien appreciated. The woman growled and picked herself up, brushing off her black trousers.
"Why don't ye use yer deadlights, scrap 'eap!?"