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      Vote for Valucre [June]   05/16/2017

      Voting for the month of June is open on TopRPSites! Vote for Valucre daily and help new members searching for a place to roleplay discover the same joys you have in Valucre. You can vote daily, so make voting for Valucre a habit. Discussion thread

Pasion Pasiva

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About Pasion Pasiva

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    The Black Queen

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  1. Well she wants to be the queen andThen she thinks about her sceneWell she wants to live her lifeThen she thinks about her lifePulls her hair back as she screamsI don't really wanna be the queenI...I don't really wanna be the queenI...I don't really wanna be the queenI...I don't really wanna live this...
  2. Comgratulations Ayden! You're doing an amazing job taking care of your wife and little one.
  3. Out among the stars I sail, way beyond the moon In my silver ship I sail, a dream that ended to soon Now I know exactly who I am and what I'm here for And I will go sailing no more All the things I thought I'd be, all the brave things I'd done Vanished like a snowflake with the rising of the sun Never more to sail my ship, where no man has gone before And I will go sailing no more But no, it can't be true I could fly if I wanted to Like a bird in the sky if I believe I can fly, why I'd fly Clearly, I will go sailing, no more
  4. When he smiled The girls went wild with Ooh's and ah's And they slapped his face On every vase (On every "vahse") From appearance fees and royalties Our Herc had cash to burn Now nouveau riche and famous He could tell you What's a Grecian urn?
  5. What's going on? Some people get away with blatant, bold-faced lying. They get to make light of others painful situations. I wish I could be as careless with what I say -- but of course I can't. But sometimes it's just so emotionally exhausting. My nerves feel raw.
  6. Do youDo you really enjoy living a life that's so hateful?'Cause there's a hole where your soul should beYou're losing control of it and it's really distastefulFuck youFuck you very, very much'Cause we hate what you doAnd we hate your whole crewSo please don't stay in touch
  7. I'm sick of being embarrassed. I'm sick of not being able to defend myself.
  8. “Not like a zombie -- more like, one of her asshole kids faked her death in order to take her crown. It sent everything into an upheaval, and we’re all just trying to settle down and wait it out. Who knows if the queen will ever come down, we don’t even know who rules the island anymore. But things keep working as they’re suppose to -- and I suppose that’s as close to coming together as we’ll ever get.” Frank frowned a bit. He was mulling over the strange words the boy had said. He had met many kinds of peoples in his time as a bartender: vampires, werewolves, dragons, elves, giants… The list went on and on. But he wasn’t even sure he had heard the young man correctly. “I am sorry -- where did you say you were from? You’re new to Orisia, that’s for sure. You’re too full of hope for these parts. I like that, you hold on to that for as long as you can.”
  9. The exchange between old woman and talking cat was the brightest, biggest, and most obvious red flag she had ever seen. The damn thing was waving in her face with bright lights shining down on it, and the feeling she had in the bit of her stomach told her that she had to leave. Not only was it an utter surprise that the feline could speak, but from what he deemed necessary to share of his current life and how he arrived at his station, spoke volumes of what kind of treatment she might expect from the woman. The woman liked deals -- deals that resulted in her favor, as most would. Technicalities could work against her, so she would have to be careful. Everything would have to be clearly defined if she didn’t want to end up like the poor cat, as a bird in a cage or worse yet, the next hunk of meat in her stew. In all honesty, she didn’t feel up to negotiating. The urge to get up and leave was so strong that she felt her entire body shift forward, until she was sitting on the edge of her chair. And yet… The words echoed in her mind and more importantly in her heart. “You want to know if that little parasite growing inside you is alive. Well, it is. Will it survive birth? Will it survive at all? No, no, Dearling, it will not. Unless...” Unless I sell my soul to the devil, she thought dimly -- feeling every last light of hope extinguish and hiss out of existence. Well, at least the old woman didn’t have a tail. “Magic, Dearling, always comes with a price.” A hand was offered -- a wrinkled and boney thing that Gabriela stared at suspiciously. But the more she stared, the more she saw that there was no evidence of malice. The old woman had opened the doors of her home, offered her food, and answered her questions honestly. She knew that magic had a price, and it was always steep. Golden eyes welled with crimson tears, but she blinked them back until she tasted them in the back of her throat. She made sure to keep her eyes open wide so that not a single droplet escaped by accident. She even kept a level gaze on the old woman as she reached out and set a pale, and ice cold hand upon her own. But it wasn’t a light touch. Gabriela closed her fingers around the woman’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Whatever the price may be, I will pay it in full if you can guarantee the health of my child. Nothing else matters.” Would she live to regret those words? Gabriela regarded the old hag with a more sympathetic gaze, and felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips. If she was lucky, she wouldn't even survive the birth. Her life for her child's, it seemed like a fair trade.
  10. I learned the hard way That they all say things you want to hear And my heavy heart sinks deep down under you And your twisted words, your help just hurts You are not what I thought you were Hello to high and dry Convinced me to please you Made me think that I need this too
  11. Frank stood close to the youth, and regarded him with a smile. He was polishing a wine glass with a pristine white cloth. He had offered a drink, but the young man only asked for water. Not a paying customer, though Frank, but he didn’t mind -- things were going rather well this month. So after he finished polishing his glass and setting it aside with the rest of the wine glasses that hung upside down from a rack overhead, he poured a glass of water and set it before the white-haired youth “Things are quiet,” the bartender replied with a thoughtful expression. “Ever since the queen died and came back to life suddenly,” he smirked -- clearly unimpressed with what he was saying, “people around these parts have just been trying to keep calm and live their lives. It’s like the quiet before the storm. You ever hear of that expression?” Frank returned to his post behind the bar and plucked a new wine glass from the rack overhead and went to work polishing. “We’re expecting quite a storm…”
  12. She hung from around his neck like a jewel. She was all bright and glittering, with a wide smile that showed off such pearl-white teeth, and glowing eyes that swept the expanse of the room, only to return to the face of her beloved. There was little doubt that she called him brother, she did not mean the term in the least. Her feelings for the man were near palpable, especially with the way her lithe body hung over his, her breasts crushed to his chest, her body pressed into the side of his hip so that her legs parted on either side of him. She was forced up to her top ties just to keep steady, but she hardly seemed to mind. “These two were just keeping me company since you decided to keep me waiting,” she complained, but she had no eyes for either the blooddoll or the noble, both of whom remained still and quiet -- perhaps even nervous -- in the presence of the Queen and the Lord of the lands. And their presence and discomfort was so meaningless to her that she hardly thought of even dismissing them. “Has my gift sated you properly? Does the taste of La’Ruta excite your senses?” “It has but wetted my appetite. You must remove this little delectable treat before I decide to devour him completely. How you’ve kept yourself from drinking the whole island dry is beyond me.” Isabella couldn’t have realized the prophecy in her words as she turned, at long last, to regard the kneeling blooddoll who had not moved so much as an inch from where she had left him. She imagined the glorious sight of his throat slit open and his blood rushing down in thick curtains of red. She sighed sadly. “I have much to show you. I am sure Santino has research to get back to as well. Perhaps a tour of the grounds are in order?” Her sad sigh turned into a visible pout. The idea that he wanted to show her around the damn palace instead of throwing her over his shoulder and taking her to bed made every muscle in her stomach clench. But she resisted the urge to argue, deciding to shower him with sweetness before showing her more fickle side. “Yes, I would love to see what you have done here, and perhaps sample more La’Ruta if you have any more dolls around. I must say that I’ve never tasted anything like it. Are you planning on sending samples back home to Eden? Your brother will be green with envy when he realizes that this is the true Eden and that you’ve found the real fruit of eternity.” A grin, playful and dark spread across her face as she turned to regard Santino. “It was good to see you, I will be sure to call on you again and soon. I would love to hear about your research, and see what you have to show.”
  13. She glanced at the tray of colorful and artfully displayed cups of tea. The smells alone were glorious, but the sight of them was quite a treat as well. However, she seemed surprised at his offer to partake. “You can consume such things?” She asked this with dismay, perhaps even a touch of disgust. Her elegant features showed suspicion as she arched a brow, curious to see him sip one of the cups of tea or take a bite out of one of the slices of kiwi or mango. Of course she had heard of vampyres who were able to enjoy the delights of human food without the nasty side effects that afflicted most. Of course she had never expected to meet one such creature here in these parts. She fluttered her long lashes and settled back into her chair, refusing to allow the topic at hand slip away. “My father has three daughters, all of them educated and brought up in the family business. I hope you don’t find it offensive that he sent me and did not come himself, but I can assure you that I am an extension of his will and am at liberty to make decisions on his behalf.” She smiled politely, half expecting him to laugh or insinuate his displeasure. She was prepared for that of course. He wouldn’t be the first man to reveal his unwillingness to work with a female counterpart. “Our business is simple but dangerous. You just sampled some of our goods. After the rebellion against Areder, and the displacement of many of our kind around the world, a demand for the enriched blood of La’Ruta became apparent. We saw they demand for a very specific good and we made it our business. We don’t sell humans or dragons or any other type of magical animal. The risk is too great, dealing with living cargo. We simply harvest blood, bottle it up, and sell it.” From the sleeve of her loose fitting blouse, she pulled a small rolled up parchment. Carefully she unrolled it and set it on the desk. “Here’s a ledger from last month’s sales. The numbers could have been more than five times what you see there, if only we had the capability of exporting our goods freely. We have the supply and the demand is there -- we just need a way to get our product out. The sort of ships that come in to buy these goods, they are quite wealthy and will pay a high cost to dock here. They will also buy supplies, and probably even show interest in…” she glanced at the tea and fruit, “your produce.” The elegant woman sat back and crossed her long legs, which were covered in a dense black material. She wore knee high boots. Her heels were caked in mud, as if she had recently been ridding. She had indeed come by horse, and though she looked quite unkempt, it did not steal from the loveliness of her visage as she took in the measure of the man who sat across from her.
  14. Thanks for the like. I added another division to it concernibg tge education if orphans.

  15. There's an old flame, burning in your eyes That tears can't drown, and make-up can't disguise That old flame may not be stronger, but it's been burning longer Than any spark I might have, started in your eyes You said it ended when he left you You say your love for him is gone But those old memories still up set you For I might be a memory before to long