When Lightning Strikes | (Sylvia, INACTIVE)

[joannejefferson]

Joanne absolutely loved the rain. Honestly, she loved to walk in the rain, to watch the lightning flash across the sky like a vicious weapon. Looking at the wind thrashing the sky flood was the best release, a moment during which she could free herself in the rolling thunder, forget regret, and enjoy her life.

Unfortunately, Joanne was not just enjoying life today. She was walking about in the city, absent her usual power suit and heels. Casual Jo, rarely seen but often used was out on the town today, headed to meet up with a mutual friend of hers and Roger's. She wasn't particularly in a the best of moods, and lately some things had been plaguing her mind that she simply had to have answers to. Sylvia had been the only person she felt safe enough to ask, especially considering the subject of her less than happy thoughts was pretty much taboo with her other friends.

So there she was, standing under the pouring rain, letting the water soak into her curls, as she waited for Sylvia to get off work. Her clothes were pretty damn near soaked through, the rain was so heavy (and she'd been crazy enough to not have a jacket or coat on). That didn't bother her much though. She rather enjoyed it.

Soon enough, the door opened and she saw her friend. Shaking her head to disperse the weight of the water, she walked over to Sylvia and managed a half-smile.

"Hello." There was no pretense, no freakish air of being the best friends the world had ever seen. It was just a simple greeting, casual and straight-forward. Joanne was never one to put on a face. She simply was who she was. Besides, she wasn't there for pleasantries anyway.

[sylvia]

With her bag over one shoulder, Sylvia finally left Hooters. Her shift hadn’t been too horrible, but some dipshit had asked if they could turn the air up and she’d been freezing her ass off. She’d wanted to tell the dude that he should stop being a greedy bastard. After all, she didn’t spit in his food, didn’t step on his foot, and didn’t get on him for having his eyes aimed a bit too low. He should’ve been happy with that.

She almost turned around and headed back inside when she felt the first raindrops hit her skin. Rain wasn’t too bad most the time, and she didn’t have anybody she was hoping to impress, but still. She hated being cold.

Just outside the restaurant, she saw Joanne, soaking wet. At her friend’s simple greeting, Sylvia grinned, nodding back towards Hooters. “This doesn’t seem like your kinda place. I dunno, you don’t look the type. But I did hear that you’re datin’ that Maureen chick, so then again…”

Sylvia trailed off, pausing to sneeze. After a very classy “fuckin’ rain”, she continued. “So I’m guessin’ you didn’t come out here just to stand in the rain, checking out the Hooters girls, huh Joanne?” She raised both her eyebrows, caught between curiosity and amusement.

[joannejefferson]

Joanne shook her head and chuckled in response to Sylvia's joke. No, Hooters wasn't exactly her brand of entertainment. She'd been in a lot wilder places than this, but those were secrets for another time. Today, with its dreary clouds and its heavy flood rainfall, was a day that inspired hidden thoughts and unanswered question. Quite frankly, Joanne was tired of carrying the weight of her own curiosity and the only person she could go to was Sylvia.

"I've been in worse dives than this joint." She finally spoke, following Sylvia's nod to the establishment. "And that was before I met Maureen." A cheeky grin rose on her face as she looked back to her friend. The other woman seemed to be in a pretty good mood, judging by the look of total amusement on her face. It made Joanne hesitate. There was no real need to ruin Sylvia's good day with her melancholy.

The only problem was that no one else would tell her. Besides, Joanne sort of liked Sylvia's fiery spirit, and held a distant, unacknowledged hope that talking to her would get her out of this funk she was in.

"No, I didn't actually come to stand in the rain and check you out in your skimpy uniform." Another dry chuckle escaped her as she shook more water from her dripping hair, splashing Sylvia in the process. "Sorry about that. Um, anyway. I wanted to talk to you, and today just seemed like a good day to do it."

She looked up at the sky as a flash of lightning split the sky and watched the blue hue cast eerie shadows on the giants New Yorkers called buildings. Yes, this was perfect weather to match her stormy thoughts.

"I have a thing about storms. Helps me think."

[sylvia]

Sylvia was only slightly surprised to hear that Joanne went to much shittier places than Hooters; after all, her friend did hang around with Mr. Raging Roger, Scarf Boy, and Maureen, who wasn’t exactly known for her predictability and attention to the social norms. But then again, Sylvia hung around with some…interesting people herself. She sure couldn’t judge, and she wouldn’t want to. She liked Joanne well enough. In fact, every once in a while, Sylvia wished she was a little more like her: mostly collected, a decent job, and no stick up her ass to boot.

Joanne mentioned Sylvia’s “skimpy uniform” and she snorted. She knew it wasn’t her less-than-impeccable service that was raking in the tips. Still, the truth was that no one in their right mind would apply for a Hooters job if they weren’t willing to put up with a few jibes and comments here and there. Sylvia’s only challenge was keeping her mouth shut when they did come.

She got a face full of water from Joanne and quickly wiped it off, listening as her friend apologized, then said, “I wanted to talk to you, and today just seemed like a good day to do it."

Sylvia looked up at the pouring sky. “Your definition of a ‘good day’ and mine, don’t seem to match up too much, Joanne. But I’m guessin’ that’s not what you meant, is it? So what’s up?”

"I have a thing about storms. Helps me think."

Slowly beginning to move in the direction of her apartment, Sylvia nudged her friend with her elbow. With a knowing look, she said, “Well then you oughta hate storms, because the one thing you don’t need help with is thinkin’. You seem to be doing plenty of it right now. I’m guessin’ this wasn’t just a friendly, out of the blue visit.”

[joannejefferson]

Joanne started walking beside Sylvia, matching her even pace. Obviously, Sylvia was catching on to her little game of words, which wasn't exactly surprising. The other woman seemed to have a knack for understanding people. So, for a while she walked in silence, trying to think of what to say.

Sylvia had been right in her guess that this wasn't just a friendly out of the blue visit. Well, it wasn't only that. Joanne had come to see her friend for a reason, and now that she was here, it was a lot harder to bring up what she wanted to talk about than she'd anticipated. Apparently, her other friends avoidance of the subject had rubbed off on her.

"I wanted to ask you about April, if that's alright." She began softly. It was rare that she was in such a subdued mood, but she wasn't sure how she could be perked up about this subject at all. Most of the time, the very thought of the redhead made her want to punch her in the face for what she'd done to her friends. Other times, she sort of thanked her because without April's death, she might not even have the friends she had. It was a very confusing back and forth of emotion, and quite honestly, she was tired of wrestling with it.

Joanne wanted to know more, wanted to have a better understanding of this mysterious dreadful omen hanging over the heads of her friends. She waned to know what was so special about that girl. How else was she supposed to find a way to forget the stress?

"The others never want to talk about her, and I just ..." She sighed, shaking her head at the absurdity of this whole situation. "This is ridiculous. I shouldn't even give a damn." She looked up at the darkened sky, anger covering her features. "The past is past, right? I should just leave it there."

[sylvia]

(OOC: I suck. Straight up. Sorry ^_^)

“I wanted to ask you about April, if that’s alright.”

Sylvia froze, her head jerking to the side to look at Joanne. She swallowed, staring out straight ahead of her and starting to walk again. So far, April had crept into one or two conversations, and each time dislike for her seemed to grow, leaving a bad feeling in the pit of Sylvia’s stomach.

It was really shitty to say, but the few days they’d spent partying a few years ago with April weren’t worth the bullshit the Roger guy heaped upon her. She was sure he still had some kind of bone to pick with her, but as far as she was concerned, he could take a number. There was already long enough line of people that wouldn’t mind if she got hit by a bus; what was one more?

Still, as her friend continued talking, Sylvia decided she didn’t want to add Jo to the list of people she wouldn’t want to accept an open drink from. She actually liked her. Sylvia also wouldn’t mind having someone around who knew the law because, if she ever got in a mess, that wasn’t a bad resource to have. Maybe Joanne could’ve even saved Dally’s ass the most recent time he got locked up, if anyone could’ve. After all, unlike the other lawyers and shitheads in the area, Jo might have actually tried to help him out. Maybe. Sylvia decided she’d have to ask sometime soon.

“The others never want to talk about her, and I just…This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t even give a damn. The past is the past, right? I should just leave it there.”

It was obvious that Joanne was annoyed as hell, and for once, somebody didn't seem to be aiming it at Sylvia. Maybe this was gonna be a decent ending to an alright day. But then again, if April was in the mix, things were bound to go to shit sometime.

“Y’know, for April livin’ in the past, she sure left an awful lot of fucked up people behind her, startin’ with the Poetry Boy with a lot of pent-up rage. So even if she’s gone, that ‘past is the past’ phrase is just a load of bullshit. And I’m guessin’ you already know that or you wouldn’t be pissed off enough to ask me about her, huh?”

[joannejefferson]

The source of Joanne's sudden anger came from a variety of sources. The first, obviously, was the red-head of whom she was speaking and the (as Sylvia put it) long list of fucked up people April had left behind. Mostly though, the anger was aimed entirely at herself. Really, if her friends never wanted to speak about the red-head they all so clearly hated to love, why was she attempting to know more about her? Why couldn't she let this one secret exist in the land of secrets she didn't actually want to know?

Answer? Well, anyone who knew Joanne well would tell you that it was because Joanne cared too damn much about things no one was supposed to care about. She cared too much that herr friends were hurting behind this dead girl, and rather than try to help them move beyond it, she was of the mind that she needed to understand why they were so hung up on her. Joanne had concluded that their connection to April went beyond the horrific and angering way in which she'd offed herself. No, there was more to that deep undying love, that unyielding loyalty, and she wanted to know what it was.

That being said, she couldn't help but agree with Sylvia's assessment. She was pissed, and it was obvious that April's existence was more than just a memory no one could suppress. Sighing, she turned her eyes up to the dark angry sky then looked over at Sylvia.

"I just want to know what it is about her that makes it so hard to let go. I mean, I know she killed herself and in a rather shitty way, but seriously I know them well enough to know there's more to it than that." She sighed again, trying to keep the anger from leaking into her voice. "Maybe its just me being my insanely jealous self, but there's this place that I can't get to, and I just... I hate that it hurts so much and I figured that if I knew more then maybe it wouldn't. Maybe I could get over it, and then it wouldn't seem to be so huge a deal." A dry chuckle escaped her as a new thought entered her mind.

"When you meet any of them, be it Roger, Collins, Maureen, anyone, you know its a package deal. You get one and the rest come along. The only part you miss is April. Most days, the only reason I know she's dead is because I don't see her."

[sylvia]

Sylvia snorted. “I guess I’d better be avoidin’ Maureen and whoever else then, huh? Seein’ as I pissed off Roger so the rest’ll come along and start shit too?”

Looking at Joanne, Sylvia decided she could’ve phrased that differently. After all, Jo seemed a little less…unbalanced than the Roger guy was. Maybe he was just one bad apple and the rest of them weren’t total shitheads. But then again, this was New York City: Hospitality Capital of the World. Like the charming taxi drivers that honked at the people that followed the rules and crossed the street when they were supposed to.

“April was a bitch,” Sylvia said simply. She sucked in a deep breath, deciding that she couldn’t leave it at that after her friend had stood out in the rain waiting for who knows how long. “She was a bitch but I guessyou didn’t realize it till you were away from her.”

Sylvia’d hardly known April at all before the girl decided she’d be happier dead. But the few days they’d spent partying before Sylvia returned home were etched into her mind. There was something about April that made her difficult to forget, though Sylvia couldn’t put her finger on what it was. Apparently it wasn’t all in her head because the rest of the people who’d known her were still hung up on someone who clearly wasn’t all she was cracked to be.

Feeling the need to do something, Sylvia dug into her purse, pulling out a tiny make-up mirror. After wiping away any stray mascara, she put it back. Offhandedly, she added, “I don’t blame you for askin’ me about her if the rest of your friends are anythin’ like that guy I talked to after his show. But all I remember is lots of party hoppin’. She wasn’t the tortured soul type when I knew her, but she stopped callin’ me after she met your friend. She must’ve got into drugs or somethin’ shitty like that, but you’d know better than I would.”

[joannejefferson]

A low laugh trickled from her as she heard Sylvia's response. It was soft, but began to build until it was a full deep belly laugh that she couldn't stop. The other woman was completely right. If Roger had gone off on her, there was no telling how deep up her ass Maureen and the others could shove their feet. Seriously, it wasn't too far off to say that if she ever crossed them, and they knew what had happened, that some bat-shit craziness would occur. That's the problem of fucking with family. You mess with one, you mess with them all.

The situation only got even more hilarious when Sylvia continued on with her oh so familiar description of April.

April was a bitch.

Well, Joanne already knew that much. Seriously, she'd said that herself quite a few times, much to the angst and anger of her best mate, Roger the Recluse. So, Joanne just kept on laughing, drowning herself in the ironic joy at Sylvia's candor. Really, the woman just continued spilling truths that she couldn't possibly have known without someone telling her, and from the sound of things, Roger hadn't said much beyond "hey fuck off for criticizing my dead ex, you bitch" or something to that effect.

When her laughter finally died down, she looked over at Sylvia with a somber expression.

"She and Roger were heroin addicts. Until she found out she was HIV positive. Then she left Roger a note that said "we've got aids" a few minutes before slitting her wrists in their bathtub." Joanne paused for a moment before going on. "Mark and the rest of the gang forced Roger to rehab himself after he overdosed. That wasn't too much longer after April died, a week or a month, one of those." Then she laughed again, for a reason she couldn't even begin to describe to herself, let alone to Sylvia. "You wanna grab a drink somewhere? I'm a bit tired of being depressing and talking about a dead fire-haired kid that obviously didn't give a damn about any of the people she left behind."

[sylvia]

Sylvia incredulously watched Joanne laugh, briefly wondering what her friend had been smoking while she’d been waiting to talk. Whatever it was, Syl decided she could use some. She almost told Jo to fork it over, but the light mood dissolved instantly as the story got into the drugs and all that.

Personally, she didn’t see anything wrong with something like weed, but she did what she could to avoid the hardcore shit. Too bad that April and the dude weren’t as smart as she was. Maybe partying with pre-shithead Roger wouldn’t have been half bad.

But then again, maybe hanging around him would’ve got Sylvia roped into all that bullshit too. Still, something told her that maybe it wasn’t even Roger’s fault. If he didn’t get a kick out of yelling at chicks he didn’t know, she’d almost feel bad for him.

"You wanna grab a drink somewhere? I'm a bit tired of being depressing and talking about a dead fire-haired kid that obviously didn't give a damn about any of the people she left behind."

Sylvia snorted. “You’re not s’posed to suggest gettin’ drunk to forget and then bring the chick right up again.” Glancing down the street, she started heading in the opposite direction of her house towards a bar. “I bet you’re a funny drunk. But start dancin’ on tables and I’m cuttin’ you off.” Already smirking, Sylvia added, “Unless you decide you wanna show people that you can be wild, too.”

[joannejefferson]

Joanne smiled in response to what Sylvia said and fell into step beside her. The rain had begun to slow, and the flood-like torrent had become a slow steady flow of rain. The short time they'd even been conversing had been quite freeing, and now that Joanne had said her peace she felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Now, she wanted to cut loose and have fun, and maybe a couple drinks along the way. It would be good to have some real fun with people that weren't her favorite bohemians for once.

"I don't need to be drunk to show my wild side, Sylvia." She chuckled and stuffed her hands in her pockets to keep from tirelessly playing with her soaking wet curls. "Wild Jo comes out all on her own when she wants to."

For a while she walked in silence, watching the crowds of New York shift and dance about the two of them. There wasn't anything to really say at that point, and if there was Joanne couldn't think of it. But, if there's anything Joanne hates, its heavy silence, and after so many moments of enjoy the flash of lightning dancing across the dark sky, she found herself needing to speak.

"Table dancing is not my talent, and I still have the scar that proves it." She didn't add to her little story, knowing it would do either one of two things, get Sylvia to ask about it, or get Sylvia to change the subject. Either way, it would get the other woman talking again, which was exactly what Joanne wanted: to keep the conversation flowing like the day hadn't started with the most awkward conversation in the world.