Tandy Bowen doesn't have to pick between (cloakndagger) wrote in repose,
Re: Tandy/Billy/Atticus: the lake
Tandy shook Atticus's hand. Basic deduction, despite lack of greeting, said this was Atticus, who was younger than Tandy had overall expected given Billy's fondness for talking about him like a favorite uncle. Tandy had no liminal ability latent to be transferred by palm to palm, there was nothing abnormal about his handshake. It was polite, and it was firm and someone somewhere, probably his father, had shook his hand when he was a small boy and told him how handshakes were meant to be.
There were now two people smoking in near proximity, which put the passive smoking likelihood up a percentage or three higher, but Billy's shoulders had notched somewhere closer to a realistic frame of carriage, and Tandy smiled into Atticus's face, given the latter's advantage in height from the boat put them more or less face to face. The boat itself was bigger, more classic ferryman than Tandy had expected, his proximate familiarity to boats being the kind of people who wore boat-shoes and went yachting for the summer before the loss of familial wealth that followed paternal death.
"We can't," Tandy stated, with the inflection of world-weariness that was counterbalanced by the tick of his mouth that read mirth, in small-scale. "Leafy greens do not improve lung aioli function. You know this, I know this, let's not presume balance where there is no balance to be found." He appreciated the upstream disposal of smoke, and he watched Billy handle rope with a lack of deftness that was moderately telling.
"Why do you need to be informed of Chris Cornell?" Tandy looked from Billy to Atticus. "I don't hop. But I'll come aboard." And he flashed something closer to an outright smile as he crossed from dock to deck too.