Billy has been stuck in (contiguity) wrote in repose, @ 2019-09-04 20:10:00 |
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Entry tags: | *log, atticus mcvickers, billy kaufman, tandy bowen |
Billy/Tandy/Atticus
Who: Billy K, Tandy B, Atticus M
What: The giant, the witch and the werewolf go boating
Where: The lake
When: Present-ish
Warnings/Rating: Other than language? I’m predicting low but [shrug emoji].
There was weird, and then there was downright fucking bizarre, and ten points to Gryffindor for whichever sorry shit was the one to figure out the difference. But Billy would put big, heavy sacks of cash in the column of bizarro Repose realness as he skidded up to the end of the laneway on his skateboard, dirty soles of his Vans scuffing brown and pebbled at the end of the dock that jutted out into the water like a middle finger. It was the same place that he’d met the last boat, except that this time it wasn’t piled high with palettes of non-perishables and cartons of cheap cigarettes. He didn't have any room to stack his misguided misgivings high. He figured, all things considered, that they might just float away if it wasn’t for the empty oil drums that made up the underside of the raft, bobbing out there in the darkness of the night. Truth be told, it was a bit of a ridiculous turn on his heel --feeling nervous, or weird about the plan? Because, like, there was the aforementioned weird. And then there was taking your new roommate, who was a transplant from another dimension, out on a ferry on the haunted-ass lake, to meet the cranky old werewolf who was basically like your best friend and, oh yeah, had been reverted back to a teenager because of the aforementioned haunted-ass magic. Billy had landed on his heel and he resolutely watched out for Tandy showing up, and yeah, okay, weird was weird, but he wanted Atticus to like the guy. It was annoying to know that he cared so much about the validation, but it was a Thing. The buffeting of cool, inarguably autumn air that pummelled Billy’s dark curls around his face did nothing to help the flush of low key anxiety that he felt rising up. There was, weirdly, this hard, dark heart of reservation because this was his first time, to his knowledge, hanging out with two people at the same time who knew what had happened to him. He was a mess, and they both knew it, and that kind of pissed him off. Billy folded his arms against his chest, and he set his chin with a slow, deliberate click of his back molars into place, and he bit the fat, fleshy swell of his lower lip and sighed. It was a slow, weary exhale, the kind that was trying temper a lot of feelings at once because he didn't want to deal with them. He was too deep into it to turn back. He was waiting for Tandy to alight on the dock, just like they'd never had a complication about it. The weirdness. The conversations. He'd given the edge away. Billy loitered at the end of the dock and he dipped the toes of his shoe into the water, trailing an eddied wake of soft, white foam behind. He felt like he needed to smile or something to force down the anxiety, so he tried, just to himself. And the flash of white teeth? It was forced, but it sort of helped. Fake it til you make it, right? And so much of Billy's life revolved around faking it. Billy lit a smoke while he waited with his board kicked up, clamped under his arm. He waited until he heard the sounds of Tandy's approach up the laneway behind him and he turned away from the water, eyebrows up. He didn't hear the putter of an engine just yet, but he expected it would come soon. |