Leftover halfamoon prompts
Still working my way through, however belatedly. At least they're a distraction from my crushing workload.
haphazardmethod
Veronica Mars and a quote by Bob Hope
Most agents spend their careers without firing their guns except at the range. That’s what they tell all the cadets. That’s what she sees in the files of her fellow agents (like she wasn’t going to look). That’s what her boss tells her when he sends her to counseling. Mandatory, standard, he says, except that it isn’t standard to shoot a suspect, much less kill one, and she doesn’t know whether they don’t notice the contradiction or don’t expect her to notice.
Veronica’s read all the books, and she says the right words in the right order. It happened really fast. I sleep okay. I don’t think I could have done it differently. She doesn’t quite know if the counselor buys it, but she’s back on duty after the mandatory (not-so-)standard period and so she can’t have tripped too many alarms. Or maybe it’s just that she always gets her man/woman/alpaca (they’re still talking about that case, which is just how she likes it; Veronica Mars is a brand, and she needs the other agents to be in awe of her if she doesn’t want them to see only a little blonde with a badge).
Logan calls the second week. He doesn’t talk about the death and she doesn’t bring it up. He says he’s coming to town and, when she doesn’t respond, mans up enough to ask if she wants to get together.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she says.
Actually, she thinks it would be an amazing idea. Face to face (or, well, in other positions) they’d reenact everything that ever worked between them. For the first couple of days at least she’d be able to forget everything that never did. What’s maybe worst is that she wouldn’t be using Logan to push aside the memory of Randolph Moore’s face as he fell.
She’s already forgotten that.
If Veronica Mars is ever going to leave Neptune, she has to leave Logan behind, because Logan is Neptune distilled: the arrogance of money, the grace of it as well, the affection that can knife-edge into disdain. But Logan is more than Neptune in one way, even though he doesn’t understand it yet (and sometimes she wonders if he ever will). Logan’s problem isn’t stinginess but overflow, too much love and nowhere to put it. Veronica can’t be responsible for that, not when she’s still figuring out the stoppers and dials that govern her own heart. Giving a complex machine to a kid who can’t work it is unfair to both of them (she’s not entirely sure which one of them is which in this metaphor).
They’re perfect, but not for each other.
Anyway, so says her reaction to the dead guy. Logan’s all gushy caramel under his shiny candy shell, and Veronica is-chocolate mixed with tinfoil, maybe. It’s kind of a disaster, always has been, no matter how sweet the taste.
Logan would tell her not to do him any favors. But that’s why it’s not Logan’s call.
Veronica’s willing to do the thinking for the both of them.
END
comments on DW
haphazardmethod
Veronica Mars and a quote by Bob Hope
Most agents spend their careers without firing their guns except at the range. That’s what they tell all the cadets. That’s what she sees in the files of her fellow agents (like she wasn’t going to look). That’s what her boss tells her when he sends her to counseling. Mandatory, standard, he says, except that it isn’t standard to shoot a suspect, much less kill one, and she doesn’t know whether they don’t notice the contradiction or don’t expect her to notice.
Veronica’s read all the books, and she says the right words in the right order. It happened really fast. I sleep okay. I don’t think I could have done it differently. She doesn’t quite know if the counselor buys it, but she’s back on duty after the mandatory (not-so-)standard period and so she can’t have tripped too many alarms. Or maybe it’s just that she always gets her man/woman/alpaca (they’re still talking about that case, which is just how she likes it; Veronica Mars is a brand, and she needs the other agents to be in awe of her if she doesn’t want them to see only a little blonde with a badge).
Logan calls the second week. He doesn’t talk about the death and she doesn’t bring it up. He says he’s coming to town and, when she doesn’t respond, mans up enough to ask if she wants to get together.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she says.
Actually, she thinks it would be an amazing idea. Face to face (or, well, in other positions) they’d reenact everything that ever worked between them. For the first couple of days at least she’d be able to forget everything that never did. What’s maybe worst is that she wouldn’t be using Logan to push aside the memory of Randolph Moore’s face as he fell.
She’s already forgotten that.
If Veronica Mars is ever going to leave Neptune, she has to leave Logan behind, because Logan is Neptune distilled: the arrogance of money, the grace of it as well, the affection that can knife-edge into disdain. But Logan is more than Neptune in one way, even though he doesn’t understand it yet (and sometimes she wonders if he ever will). Logan’s problem isn’t stinginess but overflow, too much love and nowhere to put it. Veronica can’t be responsible for that, not when she’s still figuring out the stoppers and dials that govern her own heart. Giving a complex machine to a kid who can’t work it is unfair to both of them (she’s not entirely sure which one of them is which in this metaphor).
They’re perfect, but not for each other.
Anyway, so says her reaction to the dead guy. Logan’s all gushy caramel under his shiny candy shell, and Veronica is-chocolate mixed with tinfoil, maybe. It’s kind of a disaster, always has been, no matter how sweet the taste.
Logan would tell her not to do him any favors. But that’s why it’s not Logan’s call.
Veronica’s willing to do the thinking for the both of them.
END
comments on DW