George sighed. Once again, she found herself at the mall. The last time she'd been here, she'd wound up covered in pizza sauce. The shirt she'd been wearing had been ruined, of course, and it had taken her days to wash the smell off. She was pretty sure that a couple of stray cats had followed her home and were now staking out her apartment in the hopes the tomato-smelling girl would reappear so they could jump her.
Yet here she was again. This time, she was looking for someone by the name of S. Yartley. Estimated Time of Death was 2:32PM. Which was still a good ten minutes or so away, according to her watch.
Wanting to avoid the food court area like the plague yet knowing she really couldn't, George did make sure to take a bit of time to circle the mall itself. She also paused at the makeshift memorial for her last Reap, hoping to maybe appease the Gods of Karma by at least acknowledging that the guy had people who had cared.
For good measure, she even tossed a coin in the very fountain that had killed the local reporter before - taking note of the sign in front of it that both warned of the dangers of the fountain as well as promising all money placed within would be given to the man's favorite charity.
Right. He was a dick. His favorite charity was himself. I somehow doubt you people can manage to pass cash on to him from beyond the grave.
Moving away from the fountain, George was all set to head back to the food court when she caught sight of the Starbucks nestled away in a corner. Immediately, she beelined it for the famous coffee shop. There was a bit of a line but that was okay. She had a few minutes to spare, for once, and besides, it was worth it.
So she stuffed the post-it she was holding into a pocket and pulled out some cash as she moved to the back of the line. That put her out front, near the tables, but she barely paid attention to anyone sitting there. Instead she leaned lightly against the large, full-length mirror that filled up a column and was partially obscured by a big, leafy plant.
After a few seconds, she turned her gaze to the mirror. A stranger's face stared back at her - the face that mortals saw all the time - but George ignored her reflection and simply set to work smoothing down her hair and checking her teeth for any remnants of lunch that might remain as she waited for the chance to move up in line.