ALL I KNOW IS EVERYBODY LOVES ME ( the twins )

[PASCAL FISCHER]

★ It was snowing. Pascal liked the snow, a feeling evidently not shared by most of the other students at Baum, who were tucked away in classes or dorms to avoid the falling white. He liked its cool touch on his bare skin, he liked the way it crunched softly underfoot, he liked the way it blanketed everything in clean white– he gazed across the extensive courtyard then, so handsomely dressed in the snow that morning. He liked the familiarity of snow, which had always graced Minnesota for winters past; it was nice to have something that was familiar in such an unfamiliar world, something to help him remember who he was. It was his tiny anchor to Minnesota, he supposed, when everything else was so different.

In fact, New York City and his tiny hometown could be no more different. Here, with the towering buildings and the bustling, unfriendly citizens, few of whom offered him any acknowledgement as they walked by. Back in Chaska, everyone would have smiled, waved, some even greeted him by name– but that was one thing Pascal surely would not miss, the close-knit society. Everyone knew everything about him, there. Secrets in a small neighborhood like his didn't stay secrets for very long, and had he waited much longer before getting the hell out of there, the whole town would have known what few secrets he had left to hide. Here in New York, here in Baum, secrets would be secrets. For him to know, and others never to find out.

He stuffed naked hands deep into jacket pockets, shielding them from the tireless cold. Baum Academy itself had so far shown minimal promise, though Pascal nonetheless presumed it was as good a boarding school as any he had applied to. Transferring schools in the middle of the year was one hell of a pain in the ass, but Pascal was convinced that eventually– given just a little bit of time– he would fit right in. He always did, of course. It had long ago occurred to the Scallion that no matter where he went, unconditionally, he would soon become the object of attention, and just about everyone– except for a few select idiots– would adore and admire him (not that he had ever been anywhere out of Minnesota; it was mainly just an assumption. No, an educated guess.)

Soon enough, he would have endearing boys and girls on his heel, hungry for a taste of sweet Scallion. Soon enough. In the brief interim, Pascal would have to settle for a few short days (hours? minutes? his popularity explosion would happen any time now) of happy solitude, peaceful and reflective time to stumble alone in the snow and think about whatever needed thinking about. Not that Pascal had much to think about, beyond how incomprehensibly awesome he was. Even the Scallion couldn't believe how fucking fantastic he was; sometimes, he felt sorry for everyone else, so much more average and so much less incredible than Pascal.

Exhaling warm breath, starkly visible in the bitter cold, Pascal stepped over a snow-cloaked basketball court, abandoned for the winter. He had always been quite good at basketball (predictably)– among the best, in fact. No, that wasn't right. The best, with nobody better. Basketball, hockey, you name it: Pascal could and would win at anything, just another advantage of being him. Not that there weren't minor disadvantages– it was hard to be so awesome, really. It was just so much work, and you always had to watch your back for assassins and the like. The work of jealous bitches, and what have you. Uneasy is the head that wears the crown, and since Pascal wore the metaphorical crown that came with being so awesome, his head was as uneasy as a terrorist in an airport... among other uneasy things that didn't come to mind right then– not shockingly, Pascal was also a master poet, who could draw up eloquent similes at command. (His range of talents were oh so diverse.)

WORDS 691
TAGS alana grove , alara grove
NOTES my first real post with pascal !

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[gryphon]

The snow wasn't that bad actually; in fact, Alara kinda liked it. It meant they could go running and jogging, and playing without working up a brutal sweat. Nothing like a summer stink sweat. So, instead of their usual jog that morning, Alara managed to pull her twin out to go down to the courtyard. Both girls walked in step on their way down the dorm. They rarely ever dressed alike, but this was one of the moments where they did look similar fashion-wise. It was hard for her sister to really dress the way she wanted, and still manage to be functional for their little game of basketball.

Alara twisted the black and red ball in her hand, dribbling it down the hallway idly. "Hopefully they shovelled the snow on the basketball court." She mumbled. Alara was in a hoodie, much like her sister, snow boots, and a studded belt. The biggest difference and indicator to which twin was which was that Alara's hair contained no color, but a colorful bow. Her sister Alana had no bow, and a streak of bright pink. It also helped that Alara didn't straighten her hair to the flat, pin-straight lines that her sister preferred.

"Race ya." She grinned before the younger twin took off running for the basketball court. It was a little awkward having to run with the ball in her hands, because it was not about to bounce in the snow. Alana hurried ahead of her sister and beat her to the basketball court. When they arrived, they realized it was abandonded. For good reason. There was a dusting of snow on it. "Aw, man. Really?" Alara's shoulders slumped in defeat, and she sighed.

"It'll be fine, c'mon." She heard her sister say. The more vocal, brash twin walked ahead, and began to kick snow out of the way. Alara watched for a few moments while her older twin started clearing snow before she copied suit. Using her boots, she started to kick the snow, and shove it out of the way. Testing the ball, when the snow was cleared enough to bounce, Alaras body dipped down, bouncing it in her hands while she grinned mischeviously at her sister.

Alana lunged at her sister trying to make way for the ball. They were their own world, scraping, bouncing, and grunting at each other. They didn't take much notice to the stranger on the court. At least Alara didn't. She had more things to worry about, like how she was going to get around her sister. If she had height or weight on the other girl that would help, but she didn't. They were the same height, and in the ballpark of the same weight.

Instead, there was a flurry of plain blonde hair at Alara ducked to the left, then hopped up, throwing the ball straight into the hoop. "Boom witcha badself!" She cheered with a grin, jogging to get the ball, sticking her tongue out at her grumbling sister.

[grumpydwarf]

Unlike her sister, Alana wasn't quite as much of a jock. They did their morning jogs, and sometimes went to the gym together if it was raining or snowing too hard. But usually, Alana liked to take things easily. However, due to the snow, the sisters decided their morning jog would be cancelled, and instead they'd go play some basketball. Alara was probably the only one that received Alana's smile like they were completely free, and while they walked down to the court, they laughed and joked.

"Hopefully, but I wouldn't count on it. It's not basketball season. Unless the team's using it, it doesn't seem like they give a shit."

[/color] She responded to her sisters wishful thinking that the basketball court would be cleared of snow. Alana hugged herself tightly, hiding her hands in her hoodie while they made their way down, before her competitive other half decided to take it a step further. Without a countdown, Alana took off after her twin. Their long legs carried them fast, however Alana's balance was better because she didn't have a ball in her hands to worry about. Reaching the basketball court, she threw her hands up in the air grinning with victory, before her sister called her attention to the state of the court.

Snow. Just. Snow everywhere. Her grin faded, and she debated running back to the school to look for a shovel. Her tongue pushed at her lips, before walking on ahead. "It'll be fine, c'mon." Scraping her boot against the ground, she started to clear the snow, pushing it to the side sloppily. It took a few moments, but Alara came over and aided her. After a few minutes of nothing but crunching and scraping, she heard the metallic bounce of the ball hitting the court. She caught the look in Alara's face, and copied the same expression.

She pushed off, making a snatch for the ball in which Alara twisted to the other side, dribbling the ball in a crouch. Alana's hands reached out to the side, and over her sister's shoulder she noticed someone else walk onto the court. Her smile immediately faded while her expression shut down. It was just that split second of being distracted by the newcommer that caused Alara to duck to the other side and toss the ball into the net. Alana looked up at the swish of the ball, and waited another moment while her sister went after the ball. "Boom witcha badself!" She heard her sister comment.

"Oh really, Alara? Don't ever say that again." Alana crinkled her nose, running after her sister for the ball. New person or not, Alana was not going to deal with the face-rubbing that Alara tended to grant whenever she won a game. Snatching the ball away from her twin sister, Alana raced for the net with her sister hot on her trail.[/blockquote][/blockquote]

OUTFIT!

[PASCAL FISCHER]

★ He heard their voices before he actually saw them– they were loud as fuck, after all, and from the moment they entered the courtyard, Pascal felt about ready to strangle them. So much for reflective, peaceful time alone. Quiet and cavalier, he met the approaching girls with a subtle sideways glance, trying to make himself out as if he could care less that anyone else was there, let alone what they looked like. Oh, but what they looked like, how could Pascal not care? They were twins! Twins, for God's sake! He wondered– only briefly, since he was a gentleman (and the best at being gentlemanly)– if they were up for a threesome. The thought of a threesome with twins had always fascinated Pascal, almost as much as he was fascinated by himself.

Struggling to suppress a smile, Pascal began to brainstorm his opening line– he needed something that told them that he was a generally great guy, but at the same time that he was totally up for a threesome. Pacal was the best at threesomes. Well, he'd never actually done one (kinky things like that weren't very popular back home), but if he was good at twosomes and good at onesomes, then logically, Pascal was great at threesomes. It was simple math, really. Pick-up line, pick-up line... Damn, he'd never actually needed to come up with a pick-up line for two people at once. Not that he wasn't convinced that he was absolutely awesome at it. Pascal was legitimately awesome at all sorts of pick-up lines, especially on girls.

"Holy fuck!" Yeah, that was some pick-up line.

Pascal cringed, hand instinctively lunging to the sore point where the acutely aimed basketball had landed. Damn, he had distractedly wandered too near to the basketball hoop, hopelessly lost in reveries of threesomes with twins. He glanced at the twins with a pained expression, which quickly transformed into one of passionate rage. How dare they try and hit him, the great Pascal, with their stupid basketball– these must be them, the assassins he thought so frequently about. Shit, was his life already on the line? He was outnumbered, even if they were just girls, and it would take every ounce of his awesomeness to escape them. No, he had to play it cool– even if he had abandoned all hope in a threesome, he still had to make a good first impression. You know, in the slim likelihood that they were just regular high school girls, and not assassins.

In an attempt at some sort of impressive maneuver, Pascal rolled the fallen basketball onto his foot and attempted to kick it up into his hand– like lifting a hackeysack, which was simple enough–, but instead the ball rose barely a foot before flopping lifelessly back into the snow. With a frustrated grunt (and a silent prayer that neither noticed his flagrant failure), he casually nudged at the basketball with his foot. "Watch where your ball ends up, would you?" He scowled at the two, but made no real effort to pick it up; they couldn't possibly expect a man of his superiority to actually bend down to get the ball of a couple girls who weren't even above average in the looks department– or, well... They were just barely above average. If Pascal wasn't too pissed at them for not managing their damn ball properly, he might have even been attracted to them. (Okay, he was definitely attracted to them, but he wasn't about to actually make a move on a pair of bad-accuracy bitches. Even if they were twins. Identical twins.)

WORDS 651
TAGS alana grove , alara grove
NOTES oh jesus, this post is so... the result of listening to "4 minutes" as muse - btw I love the whole double posting thing you got going on, olley

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[gryphon]

Yep. The twins definitely heard that. Both sets of blonde heads perked up and stared at the person who walked right under the damn net. And in result—got a ball right to the head. Alara placed her hands on her hips and watched him utterly fail to kick the ball upwards. She knew what he was trying to do—she did that move in soccer quite often. She walked over to him, and put her foot on the ball, rolled it backwards and slipped her toe underneath. With a jerk of her knee, the ball popped into the air, and landed in her hands while a smug smile crossed her lips.

“Excuse me? You want a fist to the face? You’re the one who walked too close to our game.” Alana growled, which put Alara on the defensive. She stepped up next to her twin, holding the ball in her hands while they both narrowed their blue eyes at the same time. Alara kept about a step back from Alana, but twisted the ball in her hand, before settling it under her arm, using her other arm to reach out and grab her sister’s sleeve and pull her back.

“You alright there, dude? You did walk like…right next to the hoop. Don’t get pissed at us because you had a lack of judgment.” Alara’s eyes went from Pascal’s head, right down to his toes, then back up. She raised a slight brow, and issued a snort out of her nose while her sister fell in beside her. Alana crossed her arms beneath her chest, and glared at Pascal, her bow-shaped lips turned downwards, while Alara looked a little more amused. At first, hitting him with the ball she felt sort of bad. But after his little stunt where he decided to blame his stupidity on them, Alara was painfully aware of the fact this guy was more than likely what he appeared to be. A complete and utter tool.

“So, be careful next time, yeah? Wouldn’t want to injure that face of yours.” Alara winced at him, almost mockingly before her and her twin both grinned, flicked their hair over the shoulder and turned to go back to their game after Hi-Fiving each other. Even as they walked away, their laughed gew. Alara hugged the ball to her chest, watching as her sister touched her face with a look of mock-panic on it. Imitating Pascal’s expression at the surprise of getting hit by the black and red ball. Alara’s lips tugged to the side, glancing back at Pascal, before her and her sister huddled close, giggling to each other.

The game was back on, and Alana swept the ball away from Alara which prompted the younger twin into running after her sister. But the game was suddenly changing as Alana ran for Pascal.

OUTFIT

[grumpydwarf]

Unlike Alara, Alana had been watching the other person rather closely. Closely enough to see the ball head straight from him, and bounce straight off his noggin. She let out a loud burst of laughter before her hand covered her mouth. Her sister started to walk over to the other boy when he suddenly accused them of hitting him with the ball. Alana’s mouth swung open at this complete idiot, and she felt the rush of blood in her veins that caused her to push her hoodie sleeves up around her elbows. “Excuse me? You want a fist to the fact? You’re the one who walked too close to our game!” Alana growled, her voice climbing louder and louder with each word.

Alana took another step, like she wanted to get right in this tool’s face, but the grip her sister had on her arm pulled her back. Alana stumbled back on her feet, her brows furrowing over her blue eyes that were heavily lined with black eye-liner. Her mouth was turned down, and she glowered at the boy while her sister tried to diffuse the situation. Alana’s arms crossed, and she chewed the inside of her cheeks stubbornly. Alana wasn’t happy about the way he talked to her sister, but judging by the expression on Alara’s face, she looked pretty much entertained.

Her expression did soften when she picked up the taunting infliction in her sister’s voice and a grin spread over her face, taking place of the frown she typically wore. Due to many, many years of mimicry, rehearsal, and just natural instinct—both twins flicked their blonde hair over their shoulder at the same time, before turning to go back to their cleared area. Alana initiated the High-Five, to which Alara delivered. “Did you see his face though, he was all like—“ Alara turned her mouth down and opened it, looking for all the world like a fish while she crossed his eyes. “Though, I can’t exactly tell if that was an expression, or just his face.” Alana murmured to her sister. Alara glanced backwards at Pascal with a strange smile on her face, before looking back at her sister and grabbing her hand.

“Definitely his face.”

[/b] She whispered, and both girls giggled none too quietly. They broke apart, and Alara dribbled the ball for just a moment before Alana swiped her hand by and stole the ball from her sister. That’s when the brilliant idea popped into her mind. Alana, still bouncing the ball ran straight for Pascal, but she did circles around him, watching her sister like he wasn’t even there. “Oh my God! Balls falling from the sky! Watch out, Alara!” Alana cried, before running away from Pascal, her sister chasing after her with a wicked laughter.
[/blockquote][/blockquote]

OUTFIT!

[PASCAL FISCHER]

★ To be honest, Pascal wasn't at all used to being ridiculed. So naturally, when the hollow thud of the basketball against his skull was matched by peals of laughter, he knew no proper way to react beyond confusedly furrowing his brow at the pretty little twin. Why on earth was she laughing, had someone said something funny? Or was she so baffled by his apparent magnificence that she merely couldn't think straight– this, admittedly, didn't surprise him much, for Pascal had dealt with many an enamored admirer over his lifetime. After all, his awesomeness was quite a lot to handle, especially on such short notice; sensibly (sort of), the Scallion was always worried for his peers. What if one of them died of admiration? Pascal had read about that somewhere, he was sure of it– he was quite good at reading, in fact. A master of it. They (well, Pascal) say that he even learned how to read at the early age of three months, a true literary genius.

Marvelous reading capabilities aside, Pascal wasn't exactly the brightest light in the chandelier, especially when it came to that which most others would consider common sense. "Common sense", you see, had never been of significant importance to the Scallion, who had lived a wonderful and sheltered life in Chaska, where he had never really had to deal with such things as being made fun of. If people disliked him in any way (which plenty did, with reason), they typically kept their feelings to themselves, partly because of the good nature any Minnesotan was expected to uphold and partly because Pascal was Pascal, who had then maintained a reputation to complement his abiding ego.

But Pascal wasn't in Kansas Minnesota anymore. No, now Pascal was in this silly boarding school in the great New York City, where apparently the great New York citizens simply thought themselves too great for a man such as Pascal. It was funny, really, how some mindless people could act towards him when they weren't quite sure of Pascal's boundless greatness. Obviously the twins– especially the drastically uglier one, who had been the source of much of the mockery– had no idea that they were in the midst of Pascal Fischer, the one and only. His expression softened, and he even smiled assuringly towards the twins (particularly the drastically uglier one who seemed about ready to pounce on him); oh, his heart went out to them, it did. He could only imagine their faces, their hasty apologies, when they realized just who exactly he was.

And who was he?

"Hey," he called after them. "I think you're a little bit confused." Buried under their own laughter, shrill and unpleasant as was to be expected from girls of such low caliber, his voice was likely to go unheard. They had already turned, readying themselves to go on with their pathetic lives as if nothing had ever happened– hah, only further exhibition of their boundless stupidity. They'd have to beg for his forgiveness (as they surely would, as Pascal's forgiveness was something to be cherished), they'd have to pray to the heavens that Pascal was in an unusually forgiving mood that day. He was, and as he was the absolute best at forgiving people (especially attractive twin girls), perhaps if and when they did beg, he would–

He winced, their cold and judgmental glances hitting him like unforeseen bullets in the night. What the fuck were they even looking at? He glanced down, briefly inspecting himself before returning his confused gaze to his attackers– no, there was nothing wrong with his clothes. Maybe there was something on his face? No, maybe (most likely) it was just his unmatched sexiness that they were staring at. Yes, that had to be it; and their laughter, that was probably just their laughing at themselves for even thinking that they might potentially be in his league. He almost laughed, too, at that. As if they were worthy of him! Well, maybe both at once, but alone? Please.

Pascal had opened his mouth to once more announce himself and his unstoppable awesomeness when one of the girls– the uglier, bitchier one– made way in his direction. Probably trying to steal a hug or a passionate kiss or something along those lines. Well, no sir, Pascal wanted none of that. Oh, but he did. She was just a little bit attractive, really, if nowhere near as attractive as her (less-of-a-bitch) sister. But she didn't kiss him, or hug him, or anything along the lines of what Pascal could possibly have imagined to happen.

No, instead, the little bitch decided to put on a show for him. But, in Pascal's knowledgeable opinion (he was an excellent critic of any and all things– another of his talents, see), it was something like the worst show he had ever seen. It was neither funny nor interesting, and it only made him dizzy to have to keep turning his head to keep up with her as she danced around him like an idiot. It took him a moment to register that the girl wasn't trying to impress him in any way– no, she was trying to mock him, and for once Pascal had the wits to comprehend her mockery.

Red-faced, Pascal watched as she trotted away, smiling and giggling as if making a fool of Pascal was the best thing she had ever done. "Hey, get back here, you bitch! Who do you think you are?" God, she would pay for that. Like hell Pascal would ever forgive her after that entire ordeal.

WORDS ...988? BRONCHITIS GIVES ME MUSE what can I say
TAGS alara , alara , olley
NOTES LOL since you might not want to read all that shit... SUMMARY pascal doesn't really understand that they're making fun of him, and he tries to introduce himself so that they can realize how awesome he is and start begging for his forgiveness. pascal thinks the twins are laughing at how out of their league he is, and he's about to be like "it's okay" and then alana starts making fun of him and he gets real angry and his face turns red like a tomato and really that's about it. how that ended up being almost 1k words...........

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[gryphon]

The laughter was cut short and silence fell except for the thud of the ball bouncing away from Alana's hands. Alara heard it too, and instead of looking at Pascal right away, she looked at her twin sister. She could see the fluctuation of colors in her face. Pink. Then red. Then pink again as she calmed herself. But there was also something else that Alara noticed--Alana's eyes narrowed. A dangerous thing for her sister to do, and Alara's eyes widened. "N-no..No, Alana, don't." She warned, starting to straighten up a little bit.

Alana had an anger problem that Alara was much, much too aware of. Alara tended to be rather dismissive about emotions. She didn't really get too angry, or too upset. She had learned how to keep relitively calm about that sort of thing; however her sister was the opposite. Her sister had a temper like a raging bull, and there had been several times that Alara had to pull her off of some poor student that said the wrong words. It didn't seem to be much different now as the world slowed down. It felt like Alara had all the time in the world to stop her sister. It was like someone had hit slow-motion on her life while she watched her sister turn and head straight for the idiot boy that ruined their game.

"ALANA!" She screamed, tossing the ball that she had caught from the ground to the side of the court, chasing after her sister. She tried to get between her and the boy, trying to wrestle the hands that were grasping Pascal's shirt and twisting it, attempting to choke him with the fabric. All the while Alana's voice roared over Alara's. Still, Alara continued to struggle, finally loosening one hand and grabbing her sister around the waist and pulling her off the boy.

Alana kept resisting, trying to push at her twin like she wasn't even seeing her; but Alara held fast, her boots scraping in the snow to try and keep her sister in place. It wasn't the first time she had to hold someone back from starting a fight--it happened quite often out on the soccer field. "Seriously dude, you fucked up. You don't talk to my fucking sister like that." Alara growled, still trying to hold her sister back, glaring at Pascal. He was the one who walked into their game, he was the one who started with the name-calling. With a stomp to Alara's foot, Alana broke off and headed back for Pascal one more time.

[grumpydwarf]

Bitch.

That word rang in Alana's head several times, and she had to double think if she had heard it. The ball tumbled out of her hands, bouncing along the ground while she turned. She could feel her face burning, but not in embarassment. Oh no, she was not embarassed. It was a pure anger that had settled into her face, and when she spun around it solidified the fact that she had actually indeed heard the boy call her that. Alana stormed at him, her sister's voice drowned out by the sound of blood rushing in her ears. "Who the fuck do I think I am?! I'M ALANA FUCKIN' GROVE, WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?" She screeched, her hands lashing out to grab onto Pascal's collar, twisting, trying to tighten the fabric around his throat.

"Bitch? You think I'm a fucking bitch? Call me that one more time and I'll cram the ball so far up your ass you'll have to spit it out!" She screamed, her face turning even more red with the screams that were echoing through the court. She was hit by a hard force of her sister trying to wedge between the two. Alara was like a little fly--not even registering on Alana's radar while she attempted to twist the shirt harder before her sister finally managed to pry her fingers loose and tug her backwards. "SAY IT AGAIN, YOU SON OF A BITCH, SAY IT AGAIN!" Alana screamed jerking against her sister's arm, shoving at it, still trying to get at Pascal.

Her blonde hair was an angry fury around her face while she kept pushing at the restraints, growing more and more frustrated, before her own boot stomped down on Alara's. Her younger twin let out a sharp yelp, and released her. Alana again, locked onto Pascal, went storming for him again. She hadn't exactly thought out what she was going to do, the but the court was only so big. Alana was an infamous bully at Baum Academy; most people tended to avoid her, and avoid problems with her. However, this pipsqueak(never mind that he was a decent height above the twins) thought he was tough enough to rumble with one of the Grove twins, so be it.

Alana's anger was almost tangible, her own body jerking slightly while Alana grasped onto her arms to try and keep her from actually injuring Pascal. No, this wasn't pretty. Had she been looking, she'd have notice that her sister was currently looking around for any school officials. No, this wasn't going to be pretty if she couldn't reel in her sister's temper. Especially if Pascal wasn't up to the challange of having a wildcat of a teenager on him.

OUTFIT!

[PASCAL FISCHER]

★ Pascal had touched a new chord in the hay-haired mouthful of virulence, so much was painfully evident in her reddened cheeks and baby blues, so alluringly vehement in her rage. There was something about Alana, crazy bitch that she was, something that concurrently encouraged loathing and lust in Pascal, something about her outrage that instilled a desire to punch her and fuck her at the same time. "Alana fuckin' Grove", as she so jovially introduced herself– God, he hated her. God, she was hot.

Bony fingers coiled around his collar, wrist lurching in her despicable efforts to throttle him. Pascal almost laughed– physically, she stood no chance against him, though her kinky struggle to strangle him was commendable. He could easily kick her ass, considering how greatly he outweighed her in size; not that Pascal would ever actually hit a girl, no matter how psychotic she was. Such an excuse might have been more credible were he still able to breathe properly.

He was loath to admit it, but the fact that Alana fuckin' Grove was trying– and, much to Pascal's vexation, succeeding– to choke him only fueled what inexplicable attraction he felt toward her. Frankly, he was almost disappointed when the other, nameless twin threw herself between the combative pair. Almost. (He would have been considerably more disappointed were he not totally receiving vibes toward a potential threesome. Pascal was really quite good at reading vibes, and the positions and proximity of himself and the twins were totally vibing towards a threesome. Totally.)

Alana wanted him to say it again? Well, who was he to deny the woman what she wanted? Triumphant smirk plastered to his face, Pascal met her screams with an upright middle finger and an animated yell of his own. "Bitch! Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch." With childlike tenacity, the pig-headed teenager added a last impassioned "Bitch," as one small girl foot landed upon a matching small girl foot, and Alana fuckin' Grove was released from her sister's grasp.

She was nothing; just a puny little girl, who realistically stood no chance against a man of his physique. As if the Scallion, fearless just as he was awesome and multi-talented, was even the slightest bit scared of Alana fuckin' Grove. Okay, that was a lie. Rather, Pascal watched as she approached, feeling an unlikely combination of dread and excitement. Oh, words couldn't possibly express how much he wanted to turn and run, and get the hell away from this madwoman and her twin; but, not wanting to renounce bravado, he stood steadfast on the court and awaited what further assault she had planned for him.

And just when he was about sure she was gonna set him on fire– Pascal had a very vivid imagination–, the sister intervened yet again. Courage fanned by the knowledge that Alana fuckin' Grove thus couldn't reach him, Pascal rolled slate-colored eyes at the twin's remark. "I don't talk to your sister like that, eh? What makes her so fucking special?" He met Alana's fiery gaze with a happy beam, pleased with himself for singlehandedly warding off her attacks. (So what if Alara had been the one to hold her back? That was totally his doing.) "Look, Alana. I don't know how they do things around here, but I'm not scared of you. You're Alana fuckin' Grove? Well hey, I'm Pascal fuckin' Fischer, and I'll take you on any day." A little part of him was still deeply attracted to her. But only a little part of him. Minuscule, really.

WORDS 626
TAGS alana , alara , olley
NOTES alana gives pascal feels that he can't explain?!

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