(no subject)
Characters: George Lass, Mason, Daisy Adair
Rating: R, Mason.
Time Period: Modern
Location: Outside the castle
Relative Date: Evening, the day of George's arrival.
Status: Closed
George wasn't a fan of helicopters, but ever since she'd died, she'd learned that Reapers couldn't exactly afford to be picky about transportation. (Actually, George couldn't really afford anything on her salary as a temp at Happy Time, since it wasn't exactly high-paying. Or entertaining. Or...much of anything. It was just a way to pay the bills and buy her morning waffles.) She hadn't had a car when she was alive, and since she'd died, she'd been forced to catch rides on trains, in Roxy's traffic cop-mobile, on a bike, with complete strangers, from Rube, and, possibly the most terrifying of all, with Daisy. Helicopters had nothing on Daisy's driving skills, not even when they hit turbulence. Which, all right, was a bit unenjoyable, but it wasn't like she could die again, right? If worst came to worst, she'd end up somewhere in the woods of northern Washington, trying to fend off bears, Bigfoot, and hippies.
At any rate, it was dark when the helicopter landed, and George didn't waste any time in heading out, picking up the cell phone that had been left on the seat next to her. (Daisy must have been rubbing off on her, she thought, if she was stealing like this.) It didn't seem to work, but she figured that Mason probably knew a guy who could fix it. (Mason knew all sorts of guys, being, well, Mason.) Of course, George didn't really know who she would talk to on a cell phone - she was pretty sure none of the other Reapers had one, as they weren't exactly the sort to embrace modern technology. Maybe Delores? Not that she wanted to have long, meaningful conversations with her boss outside of work or anything.
She eyed the structure in front of her - it was way castle-y, like the sort of building she didn't really think existed around here. Maybe this Fox guy was an eccentric software billionaire or something, a la Bill Gates. She glanced down at the Post-It again, then at her wristwatch - still a good hour to go before 11:11, and she'd need the time to scout the place out. George wondered what a guy living in a place like this would die from - freak suit of armor accident, maybe?
"I bet the butler did it," she said to nobody in particular.
Rating: R, Mason.
Time Period: Modern
Location: Outside the castle
Relative Date: Evening, the day of George's arrival.
Status: Closed
George wasn't a fan of helicopters, but ever since she'd died, she'd learned that Reapers couldn't exactly afford to be picky about transportation. (Actually, George couldn't really afford anything on her salary as a temp at Happy Time, since it wasn't exactly high-paying. Or entertaining. Or...much of anything. It was just a way to pay the bills and buy her morning waffles.) She hadn't had a car when she was alive, and since she'd died, she'd been forced to catch rides on trains, in Roxy's traffic cop-mobile, on a bike, with complete strangers, from Rube, and, possibly the most terrifying of all, with Daisy. Helicopters had nothing on Daisy's driving skills, not even when they hit turbulence. Which, all right, was a bit unenjoyable, but it wasn't like she could die again, right? If worst came to worst, she'd end up somewhere in the woods of northern Washington, trying to fend off bears, Bigfoot, and hippies.
At any rate, it was dark when the helicopter landed, and George didn't waste any time in heading out, picking up the cell phone that had been left on the seat next to her. (Daisy must have been rubbing off on her, she thought, if she was stealing like this.) It didn't seem to work, but she figured that Mason probably knew a guy who could fix it. (Mason knew all sorts of guys, being, well, Mason.) Of course, George didn't really know who she would talk to on a cell phone - she was pretty sure none of the other Reapers had one, as they weren't exactly the sort to embrace modern technology. Maybe Delores? Not that she wanted to have long, meaningful conversations with her boss outside of work or anything.
She eyed the structure in front of her - it was way castle-y, like the sort of building she didn't really think existed around here. Maybe this Fox guy was an eccentric software billionaire or something, a la Bill Gates. She glanced down at the Post-It again, then at her wristwatch - still a good hour to go before 11:11, and she'd need the time to scout the place out. George wondered what a guy living in a place like this would die from - freak suit of armor accident, maybe?
"I bet the butler did it," she said to nobody in particular.