Allanea
17-02-2005, 14:37
Aboard the USS Glory, approaching Midlonia.
Paul Klingens, the newly appointed emissary to Midlonia, sighed as the cruiser approached Midlonian shore. His hair was messed up again, and he – again – applied a brush to the waist-long, monstrous green, chevelure. Then, he began pacing on the deck, port to starboard, starboard to port, reciting a piece of poetry to calm himself down before the mission.
The snow lies thick on Valley Forge,
The ice on the Delaware,
But the poor dead soldiers of King George
They neither know nor care.
The grey, stormy sea tilted the light vessel as it approached Midlonia, and rain flowed around Klingens’ strange black-leather-and-steel outfit, but he paced calmly, his inner emotional storm not evidenced in the manner of his behaviour. The relationships between Midlonia and Allanea have often been tense – and sometimes downright hostile. Would he, a mere fledgling in the profession, be able to change it?
He didn’t know. But somehow, the poet’s words gave him some limited confidence.
She is too busy to think of war;
She has all the world to make gay;
And, behold, the yearly flowers are
Where they were in our fathers' day!
Paul Klingens, the newly appointed emissary to Midlonia, sighed as the cruiser approached Midlonian shore. His hair was messed up again, and he – again – applied a brush to the waist-long, monstrous green, chevelure. Then, he began pacing on the deck, port to starboard, starboard to port, reciting a piece of poetry to calm himself down before the mission.
The snow lies thick on Valley Forge,
The ice on the Delaware,
But the poor dead soldiers of King George
They neither know nor care.
The grey, stormy sea tilted the light vessel as it approached Midlonia, and rain flowed around Klingens’ strange black-leather-and-steel outfit, but he paced calmly, his inner emotional storm not evidenced in the manner of his behaviour. The relationships between Midlonia and Allanea have often been tense – and sometimes downright hostile. Would he, a mere fledgling in the profession, be able to change it?
He didn’t know. But somehow, the poet’s words gave him some limited confidence.
She is too busy to think of war;
She has all the world to make gay;
And, behold, the yearly flowers are
Where they were in our fathers' day!