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Pasion Pasiva

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About Pasion Pasiva

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    The Black Queen

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  1. The Great Escape

    “Wait…” he stopped again before they got too far as a thought crossed his mind that suddenly seemed imperative. He glanced at Lemonie with a thoughtful expression that didn’t last nearly as long as he would have liked before abandoning her and turning back. He didn’t have to backtrack for very long, and he was still within eyesight of his beloved. He had returned to the old knight and was whispering to him now, quickly and with a sharp efficiency to his expression. But it would be a surprise if Lemonie heard any of it. “You tell them that I took her. When Raphael and his men take the city back, and my mother is here again -- you make sure she knows that Lemonie was taken against her will.” “My King...it will only add to the crimes being charged against your name. Murder, and now kidnapping of a high ranking diplomat?” “If they catch us, I want her to have every opportunity to escape this unscathed. So you make sure to tell them I took her against her will, and you make sure they believe it. Have I made myself clear?” “Crystal clear, my King.” “Good.” ~*~ He was checking the saddles of their horses. “This is Shade, my mother’s favorite horse -- I am going to take him with us. He’s not too fond of me, but he runs like the wind and he knows his way over the rough terrain of the Cathedral Mountains. And this,” he said to her as he reached up to stroke the muzzle of a far more docile looking mare, black in color like Shade, “is his favorite mare, Shadow. Hopefully having her along will keep him friendly. She is sweet natured, but frisky and wild. I think you two will get along.” He smiled, but the curve of his lips was hardly heartfelt. He checked the saddle on Shadow one last time before opening the saddlebags on the side and making sure supplies had been packed. “Alright, up you go…” Just as Lemonie climbed up to her saddle and got herself comfortable, they would both hear a bold, but oddly timid voice from outside the stables. “Lucis…” Golden eyes settled on Constance, and softened almost immediately. After having double checked on Lemonie, and ensuring that her lovely bare feet were safely tucked into the stirrups, he turned and went to Constance. His words to her were hushed. “Surely you know what’s happening,” she was too busy fixing her saddle on her horse to look at him, and that made him anxious. They were running out of time, he couldn’t afford to stand there and convince her why this was a terrible idea. “If you come with us they will label you a traitor. That means the Black Queen will see you as a betrayer. That’s not what you want, is it? To be an outlaw, following a banished king?”
  2. Lyric Talk -- Literally

    You gotta be bad, you gotta be bold You gotta be wiser, you gotta be hard You gotta be tough, you gotta be stronger You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm You gotta stay together All I know, all I know, love will save the day
  3. That unborn baby is gonna end up with a weird shaped head.

    1. Show previous comments  2 more
    2. Garion


      And a monkey tail.


    3. Pasion Pasiva

      Pasion Pasiva

      No tail! And no horns... So sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Jerkface.

    4. Garion
  4. Lyric Talk -- Literally

    Is it getting better-- Or do you feel the same-- Will it make it easier on you Now you got someone to blame? You say One love One life When it's one need In the night It's one love We get to share it It leaves you baby If you don't care for it Did I disappoint you? Or leave a bad taste in your mouth? You act like you never had love And you want me to go without Well it's too late Tonight To drag the past out Into the light We're one But we're not the same We get to carry each other Carry each other... Carry each other... Carry each other...
  5. Lyric Talk -- Literally

    You're just too good to be true can't take my eyes off you you'd be like heaven to touch I wanna hold you so much at long last love has arrived and I thank God I'm alive you're just too good to be true can't take my eyes off of you Pardon the way that I stare there's nothing else to compare the sight of you makes me weak there are no words left to speak but if you feel like I feel please let me know that it's real you're just too good to be true can't take my eyes off of you
  6. [Ravenspire] Finally.

    Weak fingertips caressed the edge of the potted plant. The terracotta material was cool, and it soothed her warm forehead as she rested her face against the curving like that separated the bloodied dirt from everything else. She had fallen to her knees, and she was resting now in a doubled over position with her eyes closed and her lips half parted, breathing soft and easy the damp smell of earth and the distant fragrance of perfume mingled with a variety of alcohols. It was a heady concoction that nearly made her stomach twist and turn in on itself again. Without much control of her bodily functions she felt the muscles in her abdomen clench tight and her diaphragm push up. A terrible and painful dry heave shook her entire frame until fresh tears were forced out of her eyes and she was once more left quietly whimpering against her only friend at this awful event, the lonely little potted plant alone in the corner of this abandoned balcony. She didn’t know the extent of what transpired inside the grand ballroom, and she didn’t care. Along with Raphael’s poisonous blood, she seemed to have also lost all desire to go on with this charade. A singular thought sprang into her mind. She was here in a room full of powerful people -- surely there was someone to whom she could implore for help. Maybe even Corvinus and his wife, maybe they would listen if only she told them everything and begged for sanctuary. Once upon a time, Corvin had loved Orisia -- or at the very least felt something akin to responsibility for it. Not for her sake, but for the sake of the land itself, which held wonders and mysteries the likes of which no other country in Valucre had ever seen, or would ever see. If she told them that he was a vicious man -- that he had threatened the unborn child in her womb -- that she lived in constant fear of his heavy hand. Her eyes squeezed shut and black tears pierced through the corner of her sealed lids. It took just about everything she had not to scream. Desperation had turned to anger, and even her sadness and her disgust was transforming to rage. The helplessness of her situation was a weight that was only growing heavier and heavier. It wasn’t enough that he had her. It wasn't enough that she was under the yoke of his power -- a toy to his every perverse, and now political, desire. It wasn’t enough because even all of that didn’t keep Orisia safe. What were a thousand horses to a man who had never spent so much as a single sleepless night with stable-hands trying to help a mare deliver a foal? Had he ever been elbows deep inside a magnificent creature trying to birth its baby? What did he know of raising those creatures, of seeing them set free to run wild in their ancestral plains -- nothing, he knew nothing, and cared even less. Life was meaningless to him, save for what personal gain he could make off of it. And now his shadow fell across her and she felt how her blood ran cold and deadly. “Would that I could purge every last drop of your blood from my veins. I would cut myself open, slice every last passage that you have burned your way through. I’d do that and more to rid myself of you…” The words were weak, a mere whisper that even he would strain to hear. But though they came from trembling lips, there was an edge to them that could not be denied. He wanted to break her. So badly, he wanted to break her -- but every injury done to those she loved, and the land she cherished, only served to make her see that he would never be satisfied. He was not the sort of man with an end goal in mind. He would push and push, not in search of boundaries -- but rather to force them to extend beyond their limits, and then even farther than that. A thousand horses today. A thousand people tomorrow... He could not love her if he did not love her land -- not when it was her very blood that had brought it back. Raphael failed to see the one thing that the Great Devourer and even the selfish Devil had seen. Gabriela was Orisia, and Orisia was Gabriela -- and the thousand slaughtered horses might as well have been a thousand bloody slashes against her own throat. “Shh…” she was gathered up in his arms, a wide embrace of strength that she did not attempt to break from. There were fingers combing through her hair, pushing back the dark-chocolate locks to fold behind her ears. He was rubbing her back, scratching at her marred flesh beneath her lovely dress. And she knew in that moment that no one here would care about her plight. No one would hear her, or grant her sanctuary, or fight for Orisia -- even if she offered her life in exchange. Her life had no more meaning, not beyond what Raphael allowed it to have. “Shh, my love. It’s all going to be alright, I promise.” There was only one person in the world, only one creature left who might strike a bargain to help her rid Orisia of the plague that was Raphael Bartolome. But she would have to find him -- find a way to talk to him. Little did she know that that very man had just entered the party. However, Raphael's curse remained fix and she was unaware, as if his existence no longer pivoted in time with her own. She peered up and over her shoulder at him. He looked so handsome -- so put together and so full of concern. For a moment -- for just a split second -- it looked like he was actually worried about her. It filled her with sadness, and it showed in the way her angry eyes suddenly filled with hurt. He’d never care enough to look at her like that. It was all pretend. It wall for show, so that even the people they didn’t know were watching, could see that he loved her so very much. Any word spoken against him here would be considered a heinous lie. She was alone. So utterly alone. “I want to rest,” she said suddenly -- a request made by trembling lips and freshly moistened eyes. “I don’t feel well. I feel sick.” Her voice was small and afraid, and her anger lost its edge to the ever growing fear of isolation that he was so masterfully implanting in her. She had never feared loneliness, she had always preferred to be alone. And now the mere thought of it made her so afraid that she could not stop trembling. The nightmares would come if he wasn’t around to chase them away. The horrible nightmares. “I just want to rest…” she closed her eyes, she touched her forehead to his arm and settled against him as well as she could while they both knelt on the floor.
  7. Mindless Chatter [18+] Violence always permitted!

    How do you know? As a Shield Maiden -- I do all all of these things and more.
  8. Lyric Talk -- Literally

    Temptation, creeping up on meGets under my skin, won't let me beHaunt my days and haunt my sleep, viciously unrelentingOh, lay down againOh, give in againAnd oh, feel good againBegging for another beautiful sinIt's dangerous, the things we do
  9. Lyric Talk -- Literally

    Acting like I'm heartless, I do it all the time That don't mean I'm scarless, that don't mean I'm fine But you'll see, when someone else makes you this way Oh, I drain your life 'til there's nothing left but your blood shot eyes Oh, I take my time 'til I show you how I feel inside Welcome to my, welcome to my ~Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh~ Welcome to my dark side
  10. Lyric Talk -- Literally

    You're dead to me You're dead to me I cast you adrift Yeah, I'm setting you free You're dead to me You're dead to me Yeah, you'll never be a friend to me
  11. I am sorry I threw up at your wedding. =(

    1. Show previous comments  2 more
    2. Alexei


      :laugh: He's matured enough not to be offended, and after ten children he knows the drill by now.

    3. Pasion Pasiva

      Pasion Pasiva

      Ha! I forgot. He needs no explaining then. He knows whats up.

    4. Alexei


      He certainly does. He will definitely find amusement in Raphael getting broken into it.

  12. Lyric Talk -- Literally

    Sick of all these people talking, sick of all this noise Tired of all these cameras flashing, sick of being poised And now my neck is open wide, begging for a fist around it Already choking on my pride, so there's no use crying about it I'm headed straight for the castle They wanna make me their queen And there's an old man sitting on the throne that's saying that I probably shouldn't be so mean I'm headed straight for the castle They’ve got the kingdom locked up And there's an old man sitting on the throne that's saying I should probably keep my pretty mouth shut Straight for the castle Oh, all these minutes passing, sick of feeling used If you wanna break these walls down, you’re gonna get bruised And now my neck is open wide, begging for a fist around it Already choking on my pride, so there's no use crying about it
  13. [Ravenspire] Finally.

    Did she exude an aura of darkness mingled with power? Though she was the beloved of Tenebre, she had never in her life embraced the gifts he granted. And if she was in possession of some dark and malevolent force that extended beyond the reach of her physical body, she wasn’t aware of it -- not in the least. But she did feel the depthless abyss that was Corvinus, a sensation that was both new and oddly familiar, and stranger still, comforting. As if it were a calming balm she slid right into it and felt the raw and aching edges of her nerves start to grow numb. Surely it wasn’t that he could do away with emotions, but maybe he could bend and negate the sharpness with which they felt. Whatever the case, as the Emperor approached, Gabriela felt herself become more composed, more relieved, and more unfeeling. Suddenly it was as if her tethered had been broken, and she was floating away, unattached to this moment, to these people, to this beautiful but haunted place. Misty and slightly dazed, she felt a mild contentment settled over her as she saw the Empress’ happy face. She could ignore what they were both so happy about -- her Emperor, and this strange woman -- she could pretend it was something else, something lovely and simple, and not harrowing and bloody. The two rulers shared a moment that she could not begin to understand, but the truth of the matter is she had never seen Raphael so moved and so she didn’t speak, or breathe for that matter, for fear of breaking the spell. “I am pleased you both could make it.” The Emperor had joined them -- and so the blushing bride finally stood besides her handsome groom, and between them, a child of unparalleled beauty. The sight was too lovely to ignore, and a smile touched her lips almost immediately. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t really wanted here, and that her presence was a discomfort to all, but this picture of marital and familial bliss struck a chord with her that resonated deeply. Happiness still existed in the world -- even if it was clear across the other side. Again the swell of feelings came to her that made her look down less her glassy eyes give away her sentiments. She didn’t want to have to apologize again, like a fool, for being overly sentimental. And being so near to that seemingly endless pit of emotional void that was Corvins, she couldn’t begin to imagine how much worse everything would have felt if only he wasn’t there to curv everything. He stood a memory, of the past, brought back to life to show her that there was a life worth living -- an honest, and genuine, and beautiful happiness that could be achieved. “Please, forgive my poor manners, sweet princess. It’s been far too many years since last I was surrounded by so many beautiful people and things as this. Admittedly, it’s proving quite difficult to keep track.” Raphael had left her, and for a reasons he could not begin to comprehend, she longed for his presence and his touch. She felt like she was standing alone, a tiny island amidst a great and terrible tempest. All she could do was wear her softest smile, in an attempt to keep it from looking forced, and cross her arms over her stomach to watch as her Emperor interacted with the small child. To any onlookers, she appeared a loving wife watching her husband and soon-to-be father, doting on a child -- imagining what it would be like to welcome their own little one into the world. It was a pretty story, a pretty make-believe fairy tale. “I am Raphael, something of an associate of your father’s, from the East, and a new acquaintance of your mother’s. Would you be so kind as to give me the pleasure of your name, princess?” He could be so sweet, so charming...But he was a monster, and internally, she loathed how close he was to that little child. There was nothing she wanted more than to urge her mother and father to pluck her back, to hold her tight and away from Raphael’s clutches. But the warning died in the back of her throat and behind her smile. The Emperor and Empress, they looked like good, and loving parents -- and smart. Corvinus had been wise to kick out all the dangerous monsters out of his empire, though she would never admit it, less so now that she was to stand besides Raphael. They were admiring the horn again and this time, nothing could save her from the swell of emotion that rose in the back of her throat. A deadly mixture of anxiety and hormones seemed to have thrown her off balance and she took a few steps back and away from the happy gathering. The taste of blood climbed up the throat, and a strong wave of nausea made her stomach churn viciously. “I am…” she looked up at the Empress, and then to her husband, her brows pinched and her mouth was pressed into a line. “I am so sorry, please excuse me…” Perhaps the good Empress would recognize the problem, perhaps she would explain to her husband...Gabriela could only hope that was the case, or else she wouldn’t hear the end of it from Raphael. But she a little over four months pregnant now, and nothing had become easier as she entered her second trimester. Pretty as she was, with her unearthly grace and beauty, nothing hid the look of illness that crossed her as she backed away even more and finally turned to hurry off, out the first open door she could find. She found herself on an open balcony that overlooked a courtyard of sorts. There was the sound of water, a fountain of some sort -- but she couldn’t see it -- not when her eyes were already squeezing shut while she doubled over a large and elegant planter that held a magnificent arrangement of flowers. I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry… She whispered into the universe, into the air, into the space where everyone who could hear, might hear...All telepaths would hear it, and she didn’t care. The world was a blur behind her tear filled eyes as the contents of her stomach came back up and spilled into the planter. With a hand on the railing of the balcony, and another on her stomach, she was heaved as quietly as she could manage in between sobs.
  14. Lyric Talk -- Literally

    I walked across an empty land I knew the pathway like the back of my hand I felt the earth beneath my feet Sat by the river, and it made me complete Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on So tell me when you're gonna let me in I'm getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin
  15. Lyric Talk -- Literally

    I will remember you, will you remember me? Don't let your life pass you by, Weep not for the memories Remember the good times that we had? I let them slip away from us when things got bad. How clearly I first saw you smilin' in the sun Want to feel your warmth upon me I want to be the one I will remember you, will you remember me? Don't let your life pass you by Weep not for the memories I'm so tired but I can't sleep Standin' on the edge of something much to deep It's funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word We are screaming inside, but we can't be heard I will remember you, will you remember me? Don't let your life pass you by Weep not for the memories