get out of my mind--and life! {pascal}

[MARIANA ROGERS]

Mariana Rogers was in an exceptionally pissy mood today. If she could find a fuck to give, she would've felt sorry for everyone who tried to talk to her today. No matter who they were, or their reason, Mariana practically bit their heads off. Just a glance her way and those fiery brown eyes would shoot you rays of death.

Yes, Mari was in a rare mood, but it wasn't her fault! Today at cheer practice, that butter-fingered tub of lard called Mandy had dropped her out of the stunt! Mandy got away with a bruised tailbone while Mariana's wrist was now splinted up. The AT told her she most likely fractured her scaphoid and suffered a Colle's fracture (through both the radius and ulna, aka the forearm). Fucking hell! If it wasn't for the pain, Mariana would've broke Mandy's fat wrist, too. Try to stuff your hand in a Pringle's can with a wrist the size of Texas, bitch!

A bone for a bone...In an ideal world, that's what punishments would be. But no; instead, you ruin and abuse your children but get ten years in prison. Ah, the root of Mariana's anger. In all honesty, Mariana wouldn't have been that pissed at Mandy (who really wasn't fat, just sturdy) if she hadn't of landed on her right hand, sending a shock up her right arm, which in turn made her scar twinge painfully. That had made her think of the accident...the searing, burning pain as the other car's engine erupted, forever leaving Mariana with a mark of that night. That had made her think of her mother, which wound Mariana all up into her current tizzy fury.

Cindy fucking Rogers. What a pathetic excuse for a human being. Mariana reached down to crack her knuckles, a stress-borne habit, then winced when she made a grab for her bad hand. Jesus Christ, Mary and Joseph, eff her life. If she hadn't of sent Mariana out that night....no. Mari stopped her thoughts from going any further. She had to remember the little blessings, like the fact that Bianca hadn't gone with her. If she had, she surely would've been killed.

Yeah. Think of the little blessings.

Mariana continued to sulk through the courtyard, barely containing the urge to stomp like a fussy three-year-old. Classes had been over for a few hours, so it wasn't crowded, but there were still students milling about. All Mariana wanted was to be in her dorm, lights off, eating Cheetos till she OD-ed on cheese. Unfortunately, she'd had to visit her social worker so that he could sign the paperwork necessary for pain meds. Mr. Mellard (or as Mari called him, Mel) was one of those fresh-out-of-college eager types. He was always "super pumped!" to see mariana and "mucho excited!" to get to work with her case and "boohoo sadface" to hear that Bianca had been dropped by another foster family. Mariana thought he was a flaming homosexual. Thankfully, Mel was "horrified" that that "mean girl" had "pushed Mariana down". She tried to explain that it was just a slip, but Mel droned (or cooed? Mel had always been one to coo before drone) on about victims protecting their attackers or something like that. She rolled her eyes, got the form signed, and hightailed it out of there.

Too bad they weren't coming till tomorrow because--THWACK--Mariana ran into a wall of muscle. She gasped, cluthching her hand and trying to breathe through the pain. Good god what the acuall fuck--UGH, that hurt! Mariana's face pinched up in rage seeing who her attacker was. "You!" She spluttered, eyes seething. Pascal Fischer. Just the name, and her head filled up with both rage and giddy butterflies, like she had two different people up there. He was definitely the tool of Baum's junior class and Mariana loathed his cocky, holier-than-thou attitude. Even though he was incredibly good looking...Wait, no, backspace. This is Pascal. The guy was worse than those two Freddie and Kenny characters put together. And oh, Mari did not mind telling him that.

"Watch where you're going, asshole!" Mariana sniped, her face turning red in anger and maybe even...embarrassment? Had Mariana already mentioned how attractive he was?

notes;; I'm sorry she's such a bitch ;o; Please let Pascal forgive her. Or not, that'd be interesting too XD

outfit

[PASCAL FISCHER]

She was tantalizing. With that grossly alluring smile, those scarily seductive brown eyes; Pascal wanted to reach over and grab her by the hair, pull her body into his, knock her down and fuck her. But he could do none of those things, because she– Mariana Rogers, dirty little slut of the century– was a downright, dewy-mouthed bitch.

He wanted to knock her down and knife her, too.

But he could do neither of those things, because both rape and assault were very illegal and beyond mere theft Pascal had a very clean criminal record and intended to keep it that way. Though svelte Mariana certainly had a talent for making him want to break all kinds of records, if you caught his drift. (You probably didn't, because sometimes– this being one such time– Pascal's drift was absolute, unadulterated bullshit.)

Pascal could see her in his classes, eying him with that cheeky, "please-just-have-sex-with-me-you-handsome-boy" smirk that she wore so well; he would meet her eye with his own, captivated by lust, and then just as soon as their gazes met, in a flurry of heartbeats and sparks. Mariana would turn away, and Pascal would shatter in his seat. What was she trying to do to him, making Pascal want her so badly– it was unethical, really. Truly unethical.

Who did she think she was? Who did she think she was fooling, when she rolled her eyes at him from across the room? He could tell– Pascal was quite good at telling, that sort of thing. He could tell how badly Mariana wanted him, how strongly she shared his conflicted feelings. He wondered if she, too, had to deal with the internal chaos that won him over when he saw her. Logical thought grappled with mind grappled with penis in tempestuous battle that seemed never to end, as he tried to decide what exactly he felt for her.

Hatred, he decided. He felt hatred blossoming in him like a sunflower in the summer, hatred that decidedly overwhelmed all other feelings. Okay, maybe not. And so what? So what if he was more horny than hateful– that was reasonable, wasn't it? She was... she was hot, the very definition of sexual. She made him feel so sexual. He wanted to do so many sexual things to her.

It was all just so– he cringed as the flimsy little body plummeted into his own, like an enraged fly attacking an elephant. With narrowed eyes, Pascal looked down upon the little fly, who certainly wasn't causing him any pain. He wanted to laugh at the meager endeavor. And then he didn't want to laugh. He didn't even want to softly chuckle.

They say that sometimes when you want something to happen enough, it really will happen. Whoever said that was a straight up motherfucker because Pascal did not want Mariana Rogers to press her warm body against his, accidentally or intentionally or otherwise. He wanted her warm body to fall of a building, was more like it. At first, Pascal didn't know what to say– at first, the words had been snatched away from him just as the breath had been snatched away from the pretty little cripple.

And then he knew exactly what to say, as if the words had been planted in his mouth by some faraway God Himself. "Fuck... Fucking... I..." Okay, so maybe the planted words were having some trouble sprouting. Who could blame him? Mariana looked so...– ugly. Not alluring, ugly, like the unloved donkey while Pascal in comparison stood a prized racehorse.

Although maybe there was a reason mules existed. Maybe some donkeys were just so... Mariana. "Watch where... I'm going? Why don't you watch where you're going, you fucking idiot?" She looked like a tomato with that bright red face of hers– hell, she was the cutest little tomato he had ever laid eyes upon, but still. Inside of him, the battle was on again. And, fuck his life, penis was winning by a longshot, though Pascal at least retained the sensibility to glower at her with the vexation she deserved from him.

[/justify]

[MARIANA ROGERS]

Mariana had always made herself emotionally unavailable to the opposite sex. In her mind, it made sense. If they knew you weren't going to be interested, they would eff off. Right? There would be no distractions. Right? Unfortunately, Pascal was making sure to not eff off, and was making himself a distraction. Mariana couldn't let that happen. She had to keep up with her one-track mind, keep her mind on the prize.

...

But she wanted Pascal to be the prize, didn't she? It was almost as if another person was acting in her body, convincing her sub-conscience that Pascal was the right person for her. Dammit! Mariana hated it with ever ounce of her being. Well, almost. She hated how his hair swept perfectly to the side, how his eyes gleamed when he knew he was right, how he was so confident in everything he did (Mariana had always been attracted to confidence, not to be confused with arrogance). And god, she hated how some times she just wanted him to pin her to the wall and have his way with her.

Of course, this was when she wasn't figuring out ways to mutilate him.

Most of all, though, she hated...no, not hated. Even Mariana couldn't convince herself of that. She yearned for those moments when they caught each other's eyes. For just that moment, the animosity between them fell away. The hatred was gone from their eyes and Mariana didn't want to stab him repeatedly for once. No, Mariana felt...hope. Hope that one day, they could both just get over themselves and end the raw anger (and Mariana knew it could end in great sex, or they'd end up killing each other). And then, Mariana's defenses kicked in. Her mind, and heart, realized how open and vulnerable it was, and Mariana closed right back up, protecting herself through anger.

All of this transpired in less than a second. And you wonder why Mariana was so so conflicted.

Back tot he present, where, even though they had definite eye contact, tension was palpable. Mariana briefly wondered what would happen if she took scissors out. Would there be an audible snap? Most likely. The electricity between them now was of the violent sort. Even though the air was way colder than it ever was this time of year in Virginia, Mariana's annoyance, hatred, and embarrassment warmed the hackles of her cold heart. Just as a shiver was about to pass through her, Mariana crossed her arms to prevent it. Shivering made you look weak. "I'm the idiot?! It's not me who wasn't looking where they were going! With a head as big as yours, you should've seen me coming!" Mariana seethed, even though she knew she was also in the wrong. In her little whirlwind of fury, Mariana hadn't been looking. Like Pascal, though, Mariana couldn't admit to failing. "Besides, I'm hurt!" She held out her arm for proof before pulling it back. He might twist it for all she knew. "You could at least say sorry." Mariana shot him a glare.

[PASCAL FISCHER]

Mariana.

Mariana Mariana Mariana MARIANA. Her name lingered on his tongue, just as it seemed to always linger on his mind from the moment he had first met her. Of course, it was all nothing new. Pascal wasn't short of girls who had a nice habit of worming their way into his (dirtiest) thoughts. Grace (lol), Alpha (lol), Addison (lol), Andie (LOL), Felice (not lol i can dig that one), Willow, even that creepy, bug-eyed girl Pickle! But all the same, Mariana was something new.

She was... passionate. She burned like fire. Fuck, she was fire. Pretty to look at but stand too close and you just might get burned. This– their bodies pressed together, their eyes locked to each other's–, this was too close. Pascal could already feel her heat all around him– or maybe that was just good old Pascal, who had an unfortunate tendency to be overwhelmingly hot. Fuck, he sizzled like bacon!

Suddenly aware of their proximity after having bumped into each other, Pascal took a much-needed step back. She was saying something, but words still didn't seem to come out, Pascal was so distracted. God, there were so many ways to say her name.

Pascal could whisper it lovingly into her ear, yell it in the midst of wild, fervent sex. Sob it as he held her dying figure in his arms after only just having shot her. So many possibilities, each more welcome than the last.

"Mariana.." Instead, it came out like an annoyed mumble, riding a breath through gritted teeth after she had said something about his huge head (BS, by the way; Pascal knew that his head was perfect, in both size and shape, just like every other part of his chiseled body.) "Jesus, Mariana," it felt so good to say that name, "calm your tits." (Albeit very nice tits indeed.)

"I'm hurt." Hah, no surprise there! It was remarkable that nobody had broken every well-built bone in her body yet. Not many people liked Mariana (trust him, Pascal's got the whole scoop. He's like fucking gossip girl.) and gee, Pascal could hardly see why. She was just so damn pleasant.

"Why the hell would I apologize to a dumbfuck like you?" With a sneer (don't worry, Pascal rocks all expressions), he shot Mariana a fat middle finger to emphasize just how little he cared for her, much less her handicap. Shit, how did he even know that she was really hurt? Bitches like her faked all kinds of stuff, Pascal had seen it on Oprah! (I.e., a hot young woman telling the sassy black queen that, yes, she fakes it with the beau all the time.)

"I hope you fall or something, you bitch."

What Pascal really meant to say is, "I hope you fall (onto my penis) or something (I'm not that picky, any action is good action), you (beautiful) bitch (by which I mean you are very nice, really)."

.

[/justify]

[MARIANA ROGERS]

When Mariana was little, there was a game she liked to play. The name was "In a Perfect World". Totally uncreative but hey, she was nine when she made it up. Mariana and Bianca would play all the time; all you did was rewrite your life to what it would be like "in a perfect world". They would plan weddings, baby showers, Prince Charming. Mariana always liked to paint her little sister of a world where Mommy was nice and had her own Prince Charming, and they were all happy together. They lived in a grand castle with tons of toys for them to play with, a pool to swim all day in, and an orange tree (Mariana and Bianca had always loved oranges). 

As they got older, it turned into what they wanted their dad to be like. Mariana wished her dad was strong and heroic, stern but someone who would want to play catch with his daughter. Bianca wished her father was romantic and intelligent, someone who would read to his daughter. It was an escape for the two sisters, a needed vacation from their horrendous mother. 

Right now, Mariana wished she could just close her eyes and play the childhood game again because this was was not, by ANY means, a perfect world. If it was, Mariana would be...more understanding. She wouldn't be so wound up over her past events; she'd be able to escape from them, be proud of the scar stretching across her shoulder. But no, according to Pascal's "Jesus, Mariana, calm your tits.", she was far from getting over anything and far from Perfect!Mariana. She just rolled her eyes, though, because she knew 1) If she said that her tits were calm, it would just be denied by Pascal and, 2) She knew he liked them.  

Hmm, Perfect!Pascal. What would be like? Mariana had already thought about this one. Definitely not as arogant, though confidence is always key, right? He'd also be more open about his feelings. Maybe that was why they detested each other so much: neither wanted to admit to any sort of positive emotions around each other. It seemed plausible. 

"Why the hell would I apologize to a dumbfuck like you?" Mariana's face lost most of its red as the words hit her like a slap in the face. God she wanted to grab his stupid ass finger and break it in half. He wouldn't realize that her mother had said nearly the same thing to her when Mariana asked her "Please Mom, just apologize for what you did to me." with the last ounce of nice she had left in her body. So, she decided to go the typical bitch route. No need for him to know he had struck a nerve. 

"Because that's what normal, sane people do! Of course, I'm not that surprised. Your head is too far up your ass to realize that you've done something wrong." Mariana shot a sneer right back, not to be outdone. 

Oh, he wanted her to fall on something? What she wanted to say was "I hope you fall on a rusty spear" or "just fuck me already, you handsome bastard". Either would suffice, really. Both would result in a satisfied Mariana because with Pascal, she seemed to be stuck in extremes. 

"Pascal," what a nice name to say, "I already did fall on something, aka the fat bitch that slipped and caused this to happen." Mariana pointed to her cast again. Stupid Mandy. "So why don't you try to think of something more creative. Or was that too much thinking for one whole day?" Mariana smirked, as always. 

Geez, why was she such an uber bitch?Mariana would have to work on that. 

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