Rplog Anger

Log Info

Title: Make-Up
Emitter: None
Characters: Jerry Fein and Sasha
NPCs: None
Place: Jerry's Room, Steranko Institute
Time: July 5, 2010
Summary: After hearing rumors, Sasha bursts in on Jerry.

Jerry is just chilling out on the bed, earbuds in and clearly listening to some tunes on his iPod as he looks over the Basic Composition homework he has, and several scribbled sheets of music and lyrics. He's dressed in just a pair of shorts and a leather-and-wood necklace. The door is open somewhat.

Bad move, leaving the door open. Makes it easy for even the non-cyborg girlfriends to slam it open. Sasha does just that. She's….pissed. Well, why not? She's been fuming all day and having not seen Jerry until now has made it all the worst. "Jerry!" she shouts. "You fucking jackass!"

Jerry pops up, and pulls his earbuds off. Apparently, that phrase is like 'come to dinner' or such - it gets his attention and he's heard it enough times the reaction is instinctive: his force bubble snaps up, a clear violet globe about him. "Um, hey, babe, what's up?" he says, putting on that easy smile and raising his eyebrows. "You sound kinda upset."

Good thing, too, because by the time Jerry replies Sasha's halfway across the room, ready to grab Jerry. Her arms flail out. "Eshe! What, you thought I wouldn't find out? You think I'm that STUPID?" she demands. Sasha lunghes the rest of the way, bringing a metal fist down hard on Jerry's force bubble.

"Huh, what?" Jerry says as he flattens, watching ripples form over his bubble as he bed creaks a bit. "I already told her, you were my girlfriend. She was in a tomb for like five millennia. She thought I was hot, but I was honest with her!" he says.

"So when did you kiss her?" Sasha demands, flexing her hand. Her eyes flare as she looks down at Jerry through his forcefield.

"Technically, she kissed me. She's pretty quick, too," the boy says, propped up by his elbows on the bed, eyeing his field. "She kissed me when I was in the infirmary," he says. "And when she said she was gonna try to marry me. I kinda thought she was just confused about the language, but I set her straight later!" He sits up, and dissolves his field. "So, that was it," he says, looking her in the eye. Certainly seems honest, at least.

Sasha's nostrils flare. "Why should I believe you?" she asks. She drops down and grabs Jerry by his collar, pulling him up to his feel. "They warned me, said you were a player and I didn't believe them because I'm a fucking *moron*!"

Jerry doesn't resist, and continues to look at Sasha. "Hey, yeah, I've had several girlfriends. Most of them were the ones to break it off when they found someone else; it's fucking high school. Sometimes I did, and yeah, sometimes when I found someone else I liked better. But I told them, to their faces," he says, calm and assured. "You should believe me, because I haven't said that to you."

Sasha glares and grinds her teeth and finally lets Jerry go, shoving him back lightly, enough to topple him to the bed. "You better not be lying to me," she says with a humph. She crosses her arms, still glaring. It's a momentum-glare, and it seems she's trying to fight off embarrassment more than anything else.

Jerry bounces, then adjusts his shirt by tossing it off into the corner and standing up, walking over to his closet for another. He hunts around for a suitable Hawaiian number, full of reds and golds, and slithers into it. "I am not. You wanna go get some dinner?" he says. "On me, of course."

Sasha studies her boyfriend. "You look ridiculous," she says. She pivots on her heels and strides solidly to the doorway. She pauses, a dramatic, nay, melodramatic, move, and then looks back at Jerry. "You coming?"

"Of course," Jerry says. "And I make ridiculous look good, babe," he grins as he catches up to her. "You feel like steak or seafood?"

"Keep telling yourself that," Sasha says. She keeps her arms at her side, not being as touchy feely with Jerry as she was a few days ago. "Steak, I think. I need something meaty. Dress?"

Jerry mms, "Casual is fine; Roundhouse has a great prime rib. Unless you wanna meet tonight and get dressed up, go somewhere fancier, do some dancing and such," he says, hand to her shoulder. "Du Monde's is good for that."

Sasha stops in the common room. "Du Monde," she says. "You owe me."

Jerry gives a thumbs-up, thinking; yeah, still time to rent a car. "So I do. I'll pick you up at your door at eight. Black tie, the whole works," he says. "See you then?"

Sasha quirks a brow. Is this working? "Fine. See you then," she says, fully prepared to live up to Jerry's challenge. She separates from Jerry, walking double-time towards her dorm. She needs to find the right template to duplicate.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License