Tandy Bowen doesn't have to pick between (cloakndagger) wrote in repose,
Re: The Woods: Pesha/Tandy
He maybe could have played it off as an environmental decision. Sustainable footprint or something, except if Tandy had a car, life would have major improvements to the present circumstances. Firstly, he had done inventory when beginning to hit the road toward the woods. He had: a rucksack of clothing that really, really didn't fit, a clutch of cards that had been exhausted and didn't belong to Tandy B either 'verse and a headache that was pounding behind his ears. He could probably figure out how to jack one, but the problem remained that town was small and people knew their own license plates and if he was going to obtain a car, it would need to be in the city.
This kind of thinking was entirely utilitarian. He figured he was probably in a state of shock, compartmentalizing or something but sitting and like, screaming in the empty house with the sleeping bag and the aforementioned clothes wasn't going to put cash in his hand. Getting picked up by the cops was an inevitable possibility and Tandy was a guy who liked to cover eventualities. He was mourning the loss of his own pack, which had the seriously expensive kinds of pens stowed in it. This!Tandy was into art too, but her budget did not stretch all that far. Her phone was also shit, and Tandy had it in his jeans' pocket like unexploded ordnance. There was literally no one he could call who wouldn't be expecting five-foot four of blond girl.
Trudging up the track, he was clearly not five foot four. Add an additional foot, and call it even. Tandy was tall, and he spent zero time in a gym, so the height was balanced but he wasn't like, cut. He hadn't been an athlete in school (at all. Kick-ball had been an experience) and underneath the layers he wasn't like, abs and shit. He was just you know, regular, if regular was six foot four. He was wearing the stuff he had been wearing when he had passed out on the couch in his own spot back home, cobalt blue hoodie over jeans with boots and he was relying on identifying some way to make quick cash.
The calculations were not new. Someone had stolen his wallet in the city a year or so back and he had started from bottom before. First things first, quick cash. The city would suck for making anything in January on the street, but he could figure that shit out later. He had crested the woods and he was walking with his hands in his pockets, looking for someone who went by the name of Pesha.
The kid with the book was about as expected and Tandy looked Pesha dead on as he approached as dusk tried to fall fast and hard around them. He really wanted the coffee, but Tandy was used to keeping stuff off his face.