3 Versions of Fortitude
Title: 3 Versions of Fortitude
Author: katiedibs
Spoilers: just for aint no magic mountain high enough and some general s2
Rating: R cos i like the swearing... :-)
Pairing/Characters: Jackie, Dick, and Weevil.
Summary: There's more than one kind of fortitude...
Word Count: 1,658
Sin/Virtue: in case you hadn't already guessed... it's fortitude.
Author's Note: this is my first ever Veronica Mars fic, so pleaseprettyplease be gentle with me :-)
Fortitude -
That strength or firmness of mind that enables a person to encounter danger with coolness or courage, or to bear pain and adversity without murmuring, depression, or despondency; passive courage; resolute endurance; firmness in confronting or bearing up against danger or enduring trouble.
resolute endurance
Jackie didn’t think she could move, even if she wanted to. It was like she was frozen permanently into a little Jackie Popsicle. Except that she knew she must be able to move because of the shivering.
Her toes were shivering, her arms were shivering, her legs, her face, it even felt like her hair was shaking from the cold. If she hadn’t been sitting there all this time she would have sworn that someone had dumped a bunch of ice into the tank because there was no way water could actually be that cold without assistance.
And, oh joy, it looked like Madison was done selling overpriced pie and had come to join the fun. And she'd thought this day just couldn’t get any better.
The first ball missed, and if Jackie’d had the energy she would have tossed out a joke or something. Then Madison looked at her, calculating, and headed towards the tank.
“Next time I tell you to stay home? Listen.” Madison said, as if she was a friend giving advice, and not the queen of the pep squad mafia. Then she pushed the target. She did it slowly, trying to squeeze as much out of the moment as she could.
As she fell, Jackie realised it was actually warmer in the water than it was outside, and part of her really wanted to stay down there. Down where the bitches of Neptune couldn’t be heard, and she could just float around in the nice, warm water. Although, air could be a problem.
With a gasp Jackie surfaced, and then reclaimed her icy throne. Her limbs felt heavy as she pulled herself up. So, yay!, now she was cold and really tired.
“You’re not the boss of me.” She muttered through chattering teeth. No one heard her time-delayed retort, not that it mattered because another 09er was stepping up to take their shot at “revenge”.
As she waited to take another tumble, Jackie entertained herself with the thought of how guilty they’d all feel when it turned out that her dad had nothing to do with the crash. It seemed like she was freezing to death as well, so it would make a terrific headline: Innocent teen frozen to death by peers for a crime her father didn’t commit. It was probably too long but it had a nice ring to it.
Wasn’t it time yet? Hadn’t she been up here long enough? And then she spotted the current faculty supervisor and rolled her eyes. It was Mrs Grey, who had spoken lovingly of her dear friend Ms Dumas at the memorial service for the bus crash victims. Excellent.
Well, screw them. Jackie decided as she wiggled around on her perch, trying to get the feeling back in her butt. I can stay up here for as long as it takes them to get tired of throwing shit at me.
to bear pain and adversity without murmuring
Dick moved without thinking, following his automatic feelings of anger and disgust (and a little bit of did-I-almost-for-a-second-enjoy-that? fear). He threw himself out of the car wanting really badly to beat the shit out of that tranny bitch.
Then Beav and his pet nerd were waving lighters at him and he knew that he would fucking kill that little asswipe this time. Finding someone who was actually willing to make out with him had given the kid far too much confidence, in Dick’s opinion. And it was time that he was reminded just who was the older brother and who was the fag, cause it seemed like the lines were getting blurry in little bro’s eyes.
He slammed Beaver down onto the hood of the car and felt his chest grow tight with the thought of punching the kid’s brains out all over the parking lot. But it seemed Beav’s new backbone wasn’t finished yet because he had the balls to threaten Dick right back. “You hit me and you’ll suffer worse. I promise you.” Beaver spat. “You remember Sally?”
The Kanes and the Echolls weren’t the only families in Neptune with skeletons in their closets, and it looked like Beaver wasn’t afraid to fuck with his own. Dick pulled away and ran for the nearest bathroom, all the while trying to spit the gay out of his mouth in case it was catching.
He made it just in time to loose the corn dog and blue slushy he’d had that afternoon. Luckily managing to get it into the toilet bowl, he sank - no, more collapsed, onto the floor of the stall.
Shitshitshitshitshit. He banged his head into the wall behind him. That was not how that should have gone down.
Ever since his parent’s first divorce he’d learned how to shut the fuck up. No one had really cared what happened to him and Beav and he’d learned that the noisy bird didn’t always get the worm, sometimes it just got left at home when Dad went to the shooting range. So Little Dickie had developed the skill of being completely un-fazeable. He’d gotten to the point where you could kick him in the nuts and he’d turn to you and smile, he was that good at pretending he didn’t care.
He shouldn’t have shown them how much it got to him, let the joke be on Beav when Dick got out of the car and was so okay with it that he slipped the tranny a tip. He got laid enough that there’d be a line of girls around the block to testify to his non-gayness so what was one little joke going to hurt?
Damn. All he’d thought was, ‘Hey, she’s just a hot little m.i.l.f looking for a good time. And if Logan can screw someone’s step mom, why the hell can’t I?’ They would’ve made nice last words if he’d said them out loud.
Yeah, he was gonna hurl again.
But then he’d get back up and wash the taste of puke and man spit and blue slushy (yes, it did come back up looking the same as it did going down) out of his mouth and he would be Zen again. He’d laugh, he’d joke, and he wouldn’t let them see where it hurt. It was a skill, and he was nothing if not the master of it.
encounter danger with coolness or courage
Weevil sighed good naturedly as Ophelia dragged him towards the ratty looking tent. According to the sign on top it was a fortune teller, and once he’d told the little rug rat that, she’d decided that he needed to have his palm read or some shit.
He pushed a screen of beads out of the way so Ophelia could go inside and breathed in a lungful of incense. The whole thing seemed halfway authentic until he saw that the all-powerful psychic was just a freshman kid with a turban on her head.
“Hey.” Weevil nodded in greeting as Ophelia tugged on his arm. “How much?”
“Five bucks. And I can either read your palm or do the tarot card thing.” She gestured to the chair opposite her.
“Yeah, the cards sound fine.” Weevil helped his niece up so she could sit on his lap. He gave the “psychic” five dollars and she handed him a pack of cards and told him to shuffle.
After he’d handed them back she placed three cards face down on the table. “Okay, so, I don’t actually know how to do this tarot stuff, so I’m making it up as I go along.” She admitted.
“Yeah, whatever. Just do what you’re gonna do.” Weevil was loosing what little confidence he'd had in her skills. His grandmother could probably tell his fourtune better, and she wouldn't charge him for the privilege.
“Okay.” She perked up now that he wasn’t going to get mad at her. “So, this card is your past.” She reached to turn over the first card on Weevil’s left. “And it’s the, um…” The girl reached for a book under the table and flicked through it quickly. “Oh, it’s the ten of sceptres.” She announced.
This scored a patented Eli Navarro Are you shitting me? frown. “You’re doing it from a book?” He scoffed.
“C’mon, it’s for senior trip.” She wheedled. “It’s only supposed to be for fun anyway.”
Weevil resisted the urge to walk out. If he hadn’t already given her the five bucks...
“This first card represents confidence, security, honour, and good faith.” Then she reached out to the middle card and turned it over. “And this is your present. It’s the lightning struck tower. It means ruin, disruption, overthrow, and loss.”
He frowned. For something this kid had made up, the cards were a little too accurate for his liking. He’d had all that confidence and security crap until Thumper decided he wanted a turn at being boss, and now he had definately been overthrown.
“And your last card represents the future.” She turned over the last card. “So, this one is just called fortitude.” The girl flicked through a few pages in her book. “It means power, might, force, strength, and duh, fortitude.” She smiled uncertainly. “So altogether it looks like things were pretty good for you, now they’re pretty bad, and you’re gonna need some strength to get through it?”
Weevil frowned. “Whatever. I don’t believe in this shit anyway.”
“That’s cool.” The girl smiled. “As long as you got your money’s worth.”
“Yeah, sure.” Weevil got up and set Ophelia on her feet. “C’mon kiddo, why don't we check out the ball pit?”
Inside Weevil scoffed. He didn’t need some stupid cards to tell him that his world had gotten messed up and that he was going to have to be careful. Weevil was considered many things, but a coward was not one of them. Neither was stupid for that matter. He thought as he felt the hard corners of the cash box through the fabric of Ophelia’s backpack.
the end.
okay, did it suck? you can tell me. or you can lie and say it's superduperawesome. whatever makes you happy :-)
Author: katiedibs
Spoilers: just for aint no magic mountain high enough and some general s2
Rating: R cos i like the swearing... :-)
Pairing/Characters: Jackie, Dick, and Weevil.
Summary: There's more than one kind of fortitude...
Word Count: 1,658
Sin/Virtue: in case you hadn't already guessed... it's fortitude.
Author's Note: this is my first ever Veronica Mars fic, so pleaseprettyplease be gentle with me :-)
Fortitude -
That strength or firmness of mind that enables a person to encounter danger with coolness or courage, or to bear pain and adversity without murmuring, depression, or despondency; passive courage; resolute endurance; firmness in confronting or bearing up against danger or enduring trouble.
resolute endurance
Jackie didn’t think she could move, even if she wanted to. It was like she was frozen permanently into a little Jackie Popsicle. Except that she knew she must be able to move because of the shivering.
Her toes were shivering, her arms were shivering, her legs, her face, it even felt like her hair was shaking from the cold. If she hadn’t been sitting there all this time she would have sworn that someone had dumped a bunch of ice into the tank because there was no way water could actually be that cold without assistance.
And, oh joy, it looked like Madison was done selling overpriced pie and had come to join the fun. And she'd thought this day just couldn’t get any better.
The first ball missed, and if Jackie’d had the energy she would have tossed out a joke or something. Then Madison looked at her, calculating, and headed towards the tank.
“Next time I tell you to stay home? Listen.” Madison said, as if she was a friend giving advice, and not the queen of the pep squad mafia. Then she pushed the target. She did it slowly, trying to squeeze as much out of the moment as she could.
As she fell, Jackie realised it was actually warmer in the water than it was outside, and part of her really wanted to stay down there. Down where the bitches of Neptune couldn’t be heard, and she could just float around in the nice, warm water. Although, air could be a problem.
With a gasp Jackie surfaced, and then reclaimed her icy throne. Her limbs felt heavy as she pulled herself up. So, yay!, now she was cold and really tired.
“You’re not the boss of me.” She muttered through chattering teeth. No one heard her time-delayed retort, not that it mattered because another 09er was stepping up to take their shot at “revenge”.
As she waited to take another tumble, Jackie entertained herself with the thought of how guilty they’d all feel when it turned out that her dad had nothing to do with the crash. It seemed like she was freezing to death as well, so it would make a terrific headline: Innocent teen frozen to death by peers for a crime her father didn’t commit. It was probably too long but it had a nice ring to it.
Wasn’t it time yet? Hadn’t she been up here long enough? And then she spotted the current faculty supervisor and rolled her eyes. It was Mrs Grey, who had spoken lovingly of her dear friend Ms Dumas at the memorial service for the bus crash victims. Excellent.
Well, screw them. Jackie decided as she wiggled around on her perch, trying to get the feeling back in her butt. I can stay up here for as long as it takes them to get tired of throwing shit at me.
to bear pain and adversity without murmuring
Dick moved without thinking, following his automatic feelings of anger and disgust (and a little bit of did-I-almost-for-a-second-enjoy-that? fear). He threw himself out of the car wanting really badly to beat the shit out of that tranny bitch.
Then Beav and his pet nerd were waving lighters at him and he knew that he would fucking kill that little asswipe this time. Finding someone who was actually willing to make out with him had given the kid far too much confidence, in Dick’s opinion. And it was time that he was reminded just who was the older brother and who was the fag, cause it seemed like the lines were getting blurry in little bro’s eyes.
He slammed Beaver down onto the hood of the car and felt his chest grow tight with the thought of punching the kid’s brains out all over the parking lot. But it seemed Beav’s new backbone wasn’t finished yet because he had the balls to threaten Dick right back. “You hit me and you’ll suffer worse. I promise you.” Beaver spat. “You remember Sally?”
The Kanes and the Echolls weren’t the only families in Neptune with skeletons in their closets, and it looked like Beaver wasn’t afraid to fuck with his own. Dick pulled away and ran for the nearest bathroom, all the while trying to spit the gay out of his mouth in case it was catching.
He made it just in time to loose the corn dog and blue slushy he’d had that afternoon. Luckily managing to get it into the toilet bowl, he sank - no, more collapsed, onto the floor of the stall.
Shitshitshitshitshit. He banged his head into the wall behind him. That was not how that should have gone down.
Ever since his parent’s first divorce he’d learned how to shut the fuck up. No one had really cared what happened to him and Beav and he’d learned that the noisy bird didn’t always get the worm, sometimes it just got left at home when Dad went to the shooting range. So Little Dickie had developed the skill of being completely un-fazeable. He’d gotten to the point where you could kick him in the nuts and he’d turn to you and smile, he was that good at pretending he didn’t care.
He shouldn’t have shown them how much it got to him, let the joke be on Beav when Dick got out of the car and was so okay with it that he slipped the tranny a tip. He got laid enough that there’d be a line of girls around the block to testify to his non-gayness so what was one little joke going to hurt?
Damn. All he’d thought was, ‘Hey, she’s just a hot little m.i.l.f looking for a good time. And if Logan can screw someone’s step mom, why the hell can’t I?’ They would’ve made nice last words if he’d said them out loud.
Yeah, he was gonna hurl again.
But then he’d get back up and wash the taste of puke and man spit and blue slushy (yes, it did come back up looking the same as it did going down) out of his mouth and he would be Zen again. He’d laugh, he’d joke, and he wouldn’t let them see where it hurt. It was a skill, and he was nothing if not the master of it.
encounter danger with coolness or courage
Weevil sighed good naturedly as Ophelia dragged him towards the ratty looking tent. According to the sign on top it was a fortune teller, and once he’d told the little rug rat that, she’d decided that he needed to have his palm read or some shit.
He pushed a screen of beads out of the way so Ophelia could go inside and breathed in a lungful of incense. The whole thing seemed halfway authentic until he saw that the all-powerful psychic was just a freshman kid with a turban on her head.
“Hey.” Weevil nodded in greeting as Ophelia tugged on his arm. “How much?”
“Five bucks. And I can either read your palm or do the tarot card thing.” She gestured to the chair opposite her.
“Yeah, the cards sound fine.” Weevil helped his niece up so she could sit on his lap. He gave the “psychic” five dollars and she handed him a pack of cards and told him to shuffle.
After he’d handed them back she placed three cards face down on the table. “Okay, so, I don’t actually know how to do this tarot stuff, so I’m making it up as I go along.” She admitted.
“Yeah, whatever. Just do what you’re gonna do.” Weevil was loosing what little confidence he'd had in her skills. His grandmother could probably tell his fourtune better, and she wouldn't charge him for the privilege.
“Okay.” She perked up now that he wasn’t going to get mad at her. “So, this card is your past.” She reached to turn over the first card on Weevil’s left. “And it’s the, um…” The girl reached for a book under the table and flicked through it quickly. “Oh, it’s the ten of sceptres.” She announced.
This scored a patented Eli Navarro Are you shitting me? frown. “You’re doing it from a book?” He scoffed.
“C’mon, it’s for senior trip.” She wheedled. “It’s only supposed to be for fun anyway.”
Weevil resisted the urge to walk out. If he hadn’t already given her the five bucks...
“This first card represents confidence, security, honour, and good faith.” Then she reached out to the middle card and turned it over. “And this is your present. It’s the lightning struck tower. It means ruin, disruption, overthrow, and loss.”
He frowned. For something this kid had made up, the cards were a little too accurate for his liking. He’d had all that confidence and security crap until Thumper decided he wanted a turn at being boss, and now he had definately been overthrown.
“And your last card represents the future.” She turned over the last card. “So, this one is just called fortitude.” The girl flicked through a few pages in her book. “It means power, might, force, strength, and duh, fortitude.” She smiled uncertainly. “So altogether it looks like things were pretty good for you, now they’re pretty bad, and you’re gonna need some strength to get through it?”
Weevil frowned. “Whatever. I don’t believe in this shit anyway.”
“That’s cool.” The girl smiled. “As long as you got your money’s worth.”
“Yeah, sure.” Weevil got up and set Ophelia on her feet. “C’mon kiddo, why don't we check out the ball pit?”
Inside Weevil scoffed. He didn’t need some stupid cards to tell him that his world had gotten messed up and that he was going to have to be careful. Weevil was considered many things, but a coward was not one of them. Neither was stupid for that matter. He thought as he felt the hard corners of the cash box through the fabric of Ophelia’s backpack.
the end.
okay, did it suck? you can tell me. or you can lie and say it's superduperawesome. whatever makes you happy :-)