[and other such things; for vee]

[unextrordinary]

This has become something of ritual for me. Not a big 'oh my god the world will end if I don't do it' sort of ritual, but the sort that tends to be very systematic. Okay, so maybe it's more of a habit. Whatever. It doesn't matter anyways

Comments

[neptune_sleuth]

Veronica Mars arches an eyebrow, approaching the couch. She'd been about to just say hello and criticize the film, but this kind of changes the game.

Mostly in that she knew Meg was fictional the minute she met her. Funny thing about this place - after a while, that just starts to slip your mind. Who you knew from rumor and gossip, from chats over lunch, from books you'd read. They all begin to fuse together, given long enough.

"Ruh roh. That doesn't even look a little like you. Aside from the part where you're both girls."

[unextrordinary]

"I know. The resemblance is uncanny."

I roll my eyes, still transfixed by the unfolding horror on the screen. This is just kind of disgraceful.

Turning my head to look at Veronica, I wave at the screen. "So how long have you known? Or is this an unfortunate 'no you're not a special snowflake' scenario for us both?"

[neptune_sleuth]

Sighing, she saunters over to perch on the arm of the couch, mouth screwing up thoughtfully. "I don't know," she says. "How long have we known each other?" Shrugging, she leans forward. "But no, Virginia, there are no special snowflakes here."

And that's the truth. Veronica's long since accustomed herself to the idea that maybe this is all of them.

[unextrordinary]

Nice.

At least she was being honest, though it's still kind of weird that we've no each other for longer than I can actually remember (though not forever long...not like that), but she never managed to drop the whole 'oh by the way, you're fictional' bomb.

Eh. It's not like there was a Miss Manners lesson on that one. "Clearly. You know, I've kind of figured that out when I met the pregnant sixteen year old with my face."