Tandy Bowen doesn't have to pick between (cloakndagger) wrote in repose,
Re: The Woods: Pesha/Tandy
Tandy had a perspective on life that didn't see a lot of black and white. He wasn't into sex-work as a main hustle at any point in his future. No judgment, it just wasn't his thing. Confidence wasn't something he was running low on either. Hs wasn't big enough in Repose to get truly lost in and the years intervening had been all about coming up with workable hustle to keep a roof over his head and art supplies in his pockets. He had a thing going -- or he'd had a thing going -- and it didn't involve Hookerville but he could see the appeal in terms of steadiness of customer flow.
The magic thing, on the other hand, was totally insane. And Tandy pretty much figured this would also hit after the dull, on-ice feeling had worked itself out of his system because right now, the 'hey, I'm a witch' plinked right off the shellack of feelings Tandy was determined not to feel right now. It fit. The magic thing, it fit with the trailer straight out of Burning Man. The magic thing felt even more way Dorothy lost in Oz than he had previously, and he he watched Pesha pick up the cigarette without remarking on that basically being early-onset cancer.
Yeah, he didn't smoke. He didn't drink a lot. Everything in moderation, which was to say, Tandy liked certainty and he liked control and both these things didn't sit around for long in Tandy's life.
"That's complicated," he said truthfully, in response to however long he'd lived here, "But I don't think I could live here forever and not still think that's seriously weird. Okay, you're a witch." Tandy looked like, the furthest away from freaking out it was possible to be. His hands were looped together in his lap, his elbows on his knees. He riffed fingers through the crown of his head, blond hair that hadn't been brushed down that morning.
"Is this normal? What's the percentage of the population that's...." Pause. "Gifted."