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{GEORGE} ([info]i_avoidlife) wrote in [info]we_coexist,
@ 2008-12-26 16:07:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:georgia lass, ted earley

Money, money [Ted]
George never saw a check with so many zeroes on it in her life. Twenty-thousand dollars. Up front. It occurred belatedly to George that she was in a vampire's pocket now and that it might be a very dangerous place to be.

Then again, Karen couldn't have been so bad?

It was the new wardrobe that worried the reaper most. She secretly looked forward to the clothing itself, but if it required a shopping spree and trying clothes on for an audience, that was the torture George wasn't looking forward to.

Until their first meeting, George needed to figure out how to get all those pretty numbers from a useless piece of paper and onto a bank account. With her name on it. Quite a challenge for someone who was dead. What kind of place could you go to and arrange something like that. She subconsciously patted her pocket to make sure the check was still there.

"Fuck fuck fuc--"

BLAM. George turned a corner and walked squarely into someone. He was taller, and a little soft in the middle so at least it didn't hurt too badly. George took a half step back to get a closer look at him. He looked older and friendly, like someone's reassuring Dad. Maybe he would know where to go with a check almost useless to her.

"...Sorry. Uh, you look kinda like you know stuff?" (What she meant to say was old, but she didn't want to offend him so soon. Still, with the way she said stuff her meaning wasn't exactly mysterious.) "Where would someone go if they needed help with money stuff? Like not a bank but maybe accounting stuff?"



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[info]i_worknumbers
2008-12-26 08:11 pm UTC (link)
Ted still hadn't figured out where he was or what he was doing here. Or what to do with himself, really. Nobody seemed to care about what he was wearing, and he didn't have any money on him to go into one of the shops that he'd passed to do anything about it anyway.

Wandering around had become his new pass time.

That was, until the girl ran face first into him. She started to babble at him almost immediately and he had to take a moment to process what she'd said.

"That's a really weird thing to ask a stranger." Ted thought about it. Maybe it was because he'd spent so much time around criminal elements, but he thought that talking to somebody random about money was a good way to get it stolen.

But he seemed to be just the person she was looking for. "You could look for an accountant." Ted paused. "Or, you know, me."

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[info]i_avoidlife
2008-12-26 09:04 pm UTC (link)
"I could look for a guy in a prison uniform? Like in Shawshank Redemption?"

George was confused.

"I don't know. The City is just kind of weird. It sorta just tends to make the roads shift until you find what you're looking for. I ran into you, so I asked."

The reaper shrugged.

"Are you new or something?"

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[info]i_worknumbers
2008-12-26 10:32 pm UTC (link)
"The uniforms in Shawshank Redemption were blue." Ted said a bit thoughtfully, still pretty confused about things. She was a very blunt girl, and she'd also just said something that had snagged in his brain, but he had to think about it for a second.

"I guess I am. New." Ted looked at her carefully. "You say 'the city' as if it's got upper case letters in it. Is that the name of this place, or some endearing nickname?"

It was all too much. But he had to wonder what Charlie would say about a place like this. People like her.

"So I guess I'm not having a stroke then."

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[info]i_avoidlife
2008-12-26 11:48 pm UTC (link)
"Not a stroke." She was half tempted to add a sarcastic remark that natural death was not her department, but the reaper refrained.

"It does have upper case letters. It's also an asshole. You're not insane, it picked you to be here, it likes to mess with people, the roads shift, a place to live and a job will probably be provided unless it feels like messing with you more, blah, blah, blah."

George paused. Hopefully he took it all okay because she wasn't very good with the sympathetic shoulder. "So... the money thing..."

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[info]i_worknumbers
2008-12-26 11:59 pm UTC (link)
"I have no idea what you're talking about." It didn't seem to matter, though. She seemed very focused on getting him to talk about how she should handle her money.

"I'm a financier. Or I was. I guess I sort of am still, I take care of Charlie's money. It's a lot of money. I'd have to ask you a few questions though, about the money." How many times had he just said money? How many more times would it happen? He had to stop. "If you don't mind, I'd like to find some other clothes first? I'm not entirely comfortable being in this jumpsuit."

Since he wasn't having a stroke, changing was his new priority. He was glad that he wasn't having a stroke. He supposed that it was a really good thing.

"Then we can have coffee. Or something." It was all so strange. "Is there anybody less abrasive that I can talk to about this city stuff?"

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[info]i_avoidlife
2008-12-27 12:42 am UTC (link)
"No."

George wasn't going to let him off so easily. He could talk about money and he was a convict which meant he might not feel too badly about doing something that could be slightly illegal.

"This place has Batman. I don't think it's possible for it to be any less abrasive. So. Clothes. You should buy some and change."

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[info]i_worknumbers
2008-12-27 12:47 am UTC (link)
The idea of Batman hurt Ted's head in funny ways. He was fairly sure that Charlie was Batman, only not in a really serious way. This girl was serious about there being a Batman. So maybe she was crazy. Maybe everything she'd just said was complete and utter nonsense.

"I'm wearing a prison uniform." He said it as if it should be obvious to her. "I don't exactly have a place for a wallet."

He was fairly sure that there wasn't any cash shoved in his underwear either. It didn't feel crinkly in there. Ted shifted a touch just to be sure.

"I also don't live here." He thought he'd point that out again for good measure.

Ted wasn't exactly sure how he was going to get different clothes, now that he thought about it. No money, no home. No home meant no closet. Maybe there was a homeless shelter giving out odds and ends and he could piece something together from that.

"Batman? Really?"

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[info]i_avoidlife
2008-12-27 12:50 am UTC (link)
George nodded her head, "This place is like a madhouse of pop culture crack with a smattering of regular people thrown in for good measure. And since you don't have money and my new job sort of has me freaking out I will buy you something to get you through the day if you will help. Or at least listen."

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[info]i_worknumbers
2008-12-27 12:54 am UTC (link)
"Well, I can agree to that." Ted nodded. He had to wonder what her new job was that would have her so freaked out, but he suppose that he would learn. "I don't need anything fancy. Just some jeans and a sweater would be fine. Maybe a shirt."

He looked down for a moment and then added "Some shoes would be nice."

Pop culture, she'd said. He wasn't very into pop culture. He hadn't really had the time for it. But he knew Batman and a few other big names.

But she had to be insane. Had to be.

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[info]i_avoidlife
2008-12-27 01:01 am UTC (link)
George didn't try to convince him much beyond that because she was pretty sure the more she tried the crazier she would sound. So instead it was better to buy him some clothes and get financial advice before scaring him away.

The roads started to shift again before they were standing in front of a department store.

"I will meet you at the cash register. Don't come crying to me if you ditch me and you run into something even more fucked."

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[info]i_worknumbers
2008-12-27 01:05 am UTC (link)
"I wouldn't ditch you." He was very sincere about that. Even if she was completely off her rocker, she was the only person that Ted knew here. He'd be a fool to abandon the one person who had stopped to talk to him and try to help.

Ted wandered through the men's section, giving his crooked smile to the sales people who were looking at him funny. He quickly and carefully chose a pair of jeans, a fairly nice shirt, and a sweater. Then he grabbed a package of socks, and one of underwear because he didn't really want to change out of the jumpsuit and have to wear the prison shorts still. After he got a pair of athletic shoes, he started toward the register.

But as he passed a few racks, he remembered that there had been snow outside. Quickly, he found a warm looking coat. He wasn't used to snow or cold.

When he got to the counter, he smiled. "I got a coat." He pointed out. "I hope that's okay."

Ted tried to smile at the cashier, but he was feeling more conscious about his bright orange outfit than he had before. He couldn't wait to change.

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[info]i_avoidlife
2008-12-27 01:10 am UTC (link)
George was thankful that Ted was quick. Her wallet was filled with cash from the checks she cashed during her days at the Happy Time Employment agency. A part time minimum wage paycheck could be cashed with no problems. George was pretty sure she couldn't do that with Karen's personal check.

After paying for the clothes, George had ten and change left over for coffee. And that was it. The rest of it was in a check she wasn't sure how to get to. She sighed.

"I'll wait here and then we can get coffee?" George was capable of being considerate.

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[info]i_worknumbers
2008-12-27 01:14 am UTC (link)
Ted changed quickly. He didn't want to be that creepy guy that lingered in the men's room with no real purpose. He also didn't want to get caught changing in there. He wasn't entirely sure he was allowed to, though he couldn't see why it would be a problem.

Out of habit, or some strange sense of obligation, Ted folded the jumpsuit, shoved it into the shoebox, and put the box into his bag. He was just going to hold onto it for a while, he thought. Maybe remind him that he wasn't actually in a hospital somewhere drooling on himself.

When he walked out, he felt much better about everything. He felt like a person again instead of a prisoner.

As they walked out of the store, Ted realized something. "I suppose I should know your name. I'm Ted."

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[info]i_avoidlife
2008-12-27 01:22 am UTC (link)
"George. It's short for Georgia."

She didn't normally add the second part but she had the impression that he thought she was insane.

She was glad he didn't offer his hand. Shaking hands was an uncomfortable invasion of personal space that felt fake and awkward. (Unless said customary social greeting came from a certain attractive red headed werewolf and then the uncomfort level was somehow even worse.)

She walked across the street to the nearest coffee shop.

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[info]i_worknumbers
2008-12-27 01:35 am UTC (link)
"George." It was a normal enough name. It made Ted feel a little more comfortable with her. Truly batshit insane people didn't have really normal names, did they? Then he thought of Charles Manson and Albert DeSalvo and that just flew out the window completely. Then again, that meant he could be the insane one, too.

The coffee shop was normal looking too. He'd as of yet not noticed that the streets were actually changing. There were to many other things to pay attention to. Perhaps he was still too confused, as well.

He picked a table where he wouldn't have to look out the window for a while. He wanted to pretend that he was in California still. In L.A. Doing his own thing. Just at a coffee shop talking to a girl about how she should handle her money.

The coffee he ordered was black. Just black.

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[info]i_avoidlife
2008-12-27 01:40 am UTC (link)
George didn't drink coffee. She had oatmeal with raisins. The coffee shop did not have oatmeal with raisins which made her regret that they hadn't gone to Der Waffle House instead. She ordered tea.

"I didn't know they served regular black coffee in these places anymore."

She liked that he hadn't ordered something complicated or that he didn't get emotional to her when she tried to explain The City. It made dealing with him much easier (and almost enjoyable) to be around. His eyes made her think of Deloris Herbig. She liked that about him, too.

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[info]i_worknumbers
2008-12-27 01:43 am UTC (link)
Ted spent some time looking at the liquid in his mug. It was real honest coffee. It smelled good. It tasted good. It helped him form his fantasy of this being just any old normal day.

"So, George." He said, finally looking up. "You need somebody to handle your money. I can do that for you. But I have to have a few answers first, and you have to be honest with me, or I won't help."

This felt good. And familiar. Working with money. Doing his thing. He felt useful.

"This doesn't come from any sort of illegal activity, does it? I really can't get involved if any part of it is illegal."

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[info]i_avoidlife
2008-12-27 01:52 am UTC (link)
"If I tell you it isn't illegal but refuse to provide the details, does that count? Because talking about it sort of makes me feel like a prostitute."

George paused.

"I'm not."

It was important to her to establish this.

"So can we stick to there's this rich lady who is paying me twenty-thousand dollars every week for no discernibly good reason?"

Except now that George had actually said the word prostitute she was now bothered. The reaper started to mutter into her cup of tea: "I mean, selling your blood to some insane person who probably has a creepy fetish--" (Okay, so she knew the truth but George didn't want to run Ted off.) "--isn't prostitution, right? People sell plasma. Just not for twenty grand a week."

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[info]i_worknumbers
2008-12-27 01:56 am UTC (link)
Ted leaned forward a little to hear what she muttered and found himself frowning a bit. Selling blood wasn't illegal in the least. He was pretty sure that you could even sell your blood privately with no bad repercussions. He knew of no law against it, anyway.

"You sell your blood to a rich lady." Ted nodded. "That's okay. I can deal with that. But why does she give you so much a week? Twenty grand is beyond what any normal person needs to live in a week, probably even a month."

It occurred to him that he might have just heard of somebody with more money than God himself. If she was able to fork out twenty thousand dollars for something as menial as blood.

"Does she need weekly transfusions, or something?"

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[info]i_avoidlife
2008-12-27 02:00 am UTC (link)
"Sort of. I think part of it is she's rich and possibly insane. There's also the part where she's buying me a new wardrobe so my regular clothes don't offend her and it's an on call kind of thing."

George did not mention the other possible demands like wearing a collar or referring to her employer as Master. That was just going too far.

"But the problem is I sort of don't have a social security number anymore or checking account. I'm sorta legally dead. It's a long story. Please don't ask."

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[info]i_worknumbers
2008-12-27 02:06 am UTC (link)
"I...."

Ted wanted to ask. He really wanted to ask. But he squeezed his eyes shut and did his best to obey her request. She didn't want to talk about it, she'd said please.

"So what you need is somebody to look after the massive amounts of money that you're going to have coming in." He did the math very quickly, and shook his head. This girl was going to be swimming in it very shortly. And at such a young age, too.

"How do you want it to work? Would you like it to just sit in an account and have somebody make sure it doesn't go anywhere, or would you like to invest some of it and see it grow? Because I can do either one, really. But I promise that if you let me invest some of it, you'll see earnings pretty fast. Your grandchildren's grandchildren wouldn't ever need to work." Then he realized she'd said she was legally dead, and wondered if that meant that the government just thought she was dead, or if she was really really dead. And if it were the latter, how was she sitting here? If it were the latter, he was fairly sure, she wouldn't be able to have kids.

"It's all up to you, really."

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[info]i_avoidlife
2008-12-27 02:13 am UTC (link)
"Investing is okay, I guess."

Judging by the half glazed over look in George's eyes she only had a vague idea of what he was talking about. She only had a vague idea of how much money she was being paid. George didn't even make twenty thousand dollars in a year with Happy Time. She had no idea what to do with that kind of money. Not a clue.

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[info]i_worknumbers
2008-12-27 02:31 am UTC (link)
Ted knew that look. It was the look of somebody who didn't like numbers as much as he did. Somebody who just wanted another person to just take care of it all, and every once in a while, let them know that everything was okay. Doing well. Making gains. That sort of thing. He smiled a little bit.

"Don't worry about it. I'll take care of everything."

He sighed a little and then decided he needed to know more about this place.

"Could you maybe go into a little more detail about where I am right now?"

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[info]i_avoidlife
2008-12-27 02:45 am UTC (link)
"It's kind of hard. So basically The City takes people from different places. Even comic books. Which is okay if you don't believe me because that's really something you have to see to believe. It takes them and puts them here. And then it does things like unleashes zombies on people to see how much fucked up shit they can take. Or something. I'm not really sure."

George sighed.

"What kind of details do you want?"

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[info]i_worknumbers
2008-12-27 02:55 am UTC (link)
"Zombies?" Ted was uncomfortable with zombies. He wasn't a fan of scary movies. The idea of zombies, real zombies, didn't sit well with him at all. Ted was more into comedies.

"It takes people? Does that mean it's alive? I don't know what kind of details I want. I'm not really sure of what questions I should be asking. What did you ask when you first got here?"

Part of him couldn't believe that he was talking like this. As if he'd been abducted by some sentient city.

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[info]i_avoidlife
2008-12-27 02:59 am UTC (link)
"Yeah," she said answering him. "Mostly I just swore a lot."

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[info]i_worknumbers
2008-12-27 03:00 am UTC (link)
He nodded slowly.

"Swearing seems like a very apt response."

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[info]i_avoidlife
2008-12-27 03:05 am UTC (link)
"Swearing can be an apt response for a surprising number of situations."

George took a sip from her paper cup of tea before she realized the reply sounded vaguely prostitute-y again. As a defense mechanism her face went blank.

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