electrocynic | MCA #5, Thursday Morning

This week could just go bum itself, for all Sarah cared. As if it wasn't enough to be moping about personal reasons anyway, of course she had to feel twitchy and restless for a fucking week too. And to top it all off, this morning she was woken up by her phone ringing across the room, and she'd had to stumble out of bed, and of course it was a bloody telemarketer because she wasn't annoyed enough already.

So as she made her way to the kitchen to get a glass of orange juice (because surely that would make things a little better), she was giving the telemarketer a piece of her mind (in words not fit for anyone's ears, ever). She was actually almost starting to enjoy it, in a perverse way, when she opened the fridge door.

She was out of orange juice.

And the telemarketer was still trying to prattle in her ear about something she didn't want.

And she was just so frustrated, and annoyed, and angry, that without her meaning to, her voice went electronic.

"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP, |SHUT UP!|"

And then the light in the fridge went out, as well as the one on the ceiling, and it got really quiet in her apartment. Her phone was silent too. Because she'd just short circuited everything in the whole damn flat.

As well as probably various other parts of the building, to varying degrees.

Whoops.

"... Great."

[ooc: Annnd there is electrical trouble at MCA! Open both for bitching at Sarah as well as general directions elsewhere in the building, should you wish!]

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Sarah paused in her ice cream consuming.

"... Almost twenty?"

Was everyone in this town basically a child?

"Yeah, well, my name's April. Guess when my birthday is."

May, actually. Plot twist!

"What, how old are you?"

"Thirty one."

Thirty two at the end of April!

"Huh." April considered that. "You look younger."

Oh hey, slight instant smugness. Maybe the ice cream was helping her mood there.

"Well, thank you."

Ice cream was known to do that, it was true. Consider it a belated post-breakup caloriefest.

April shrugged one shoulder. "I told my friend the other day you were one of the hottest chicks on the island." Because it was true, and besides, she was just... really noticing it now. Like, hello, boobs.

Ahem.

Okay, so apparently Sarah's smugness could actually be a little surprised, too. Good to know.

"Uh huh."

Well, April lived to surprise smug people. Or something.

She shrugged. "I dunno," she said, feeling a little weird now. "It's an attractive town and everyone's horny. There was ranking to be done."

"I haven't felt the need." Wait. "Y'know. To rank anyone based on whether I want to shag them."

But maybe that was mostly because she'd been moping alone.

"It's fun," April offered lightly. "Might help with the break-up crap, too."

"Dunno," Sarah rasped. "Think I'd need to actually know more people 'round here that aren't the brats at the school."

Because judging them on a scale of hotness was, while possible, also pretty creepy.

Mm, that was fair. "Yeah, you should," April agreed. "Most of them are morons, but at least most of them are pretty hot. Like that blond Norse guy and that blue-haired dude."

"Don't know who either of those are."

Either she didn't pay much attention, or...

"Guess I really need to get out more. The moron thing is a given, though. This is America."

"More like 'this is the world.'" April found that morons were pretty ubiquitous -- though of course she hadn't traveled very much. "And I dunno, people have parties sometimes that you could go to. Not that I go. Pretty sure they're boring and full of idiots."

"Well, I went to the party at the creepy mansion," Sarah mused. "But I got distracted by the jelly booze."

"Creepy mansion sounds good," April evaluated, deciding to take that sentence piece by piece. "Jelly booze, I would've gotten distracted by too. Jelly booze is fucking good."

She glanced longingly at her no-longer-functional fridge. "Ugh, all my booze."

Sarah followed her gaze, and then shrugged. "I don't know, it'll probably keep. I'd worry more about your food."

April snorted, stretching one leg in the direction of the fridge and opening it with her foot. (Getting up was too much work, okay?) With the exception of various booze bottles, it was completely empty, except for some packets of ketchup that had come with a fast food order one time.

"Think I'm good."

Sarah looked rightfully impressed. "Yeah, you're definitely good," she decided, nodding. "'Least my fridge actually has some food in it."

But no orange juice.

Which was part of why they were saving ice cream from melting by eating it. But that was neither here nor there.

"You're clearly a woman worth knowing."

"So an empty fridge is a good thing to a thirty-year-old?" Rounding down for your pleasure, Sarah. Enjoy. April kicked the fridge door shut, mullin that over. "Not too teenagery?"

Sarah held up a finger.

"It's not empty," she pointed out. "There's booze. There's a difference."

Ah, yes. April realized her folly. "Point," she agreed. "Guess it's a pretty kickass fridge."

MCA #5, Thursday Morning

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