Rplog Jerryexp

Log Info

Title: The Jerry Experiment
Emitter: None
Characters: Jerry Fein, Cordelia Savage
NPCs: Unknown visitor
Place: The Dining Hall
Time: July 13, 2010
Summary: Cordelia uses her newest experiment to steal Jerry's mojo.

The evening meal is a busy time for the caf, depending on what's being served. Tonight, it's tandoori chicken with fresh vegetables and naan, and a few other choices. At one particular table, Cordelia Savage is feeding a pea-soup-green jar-contained blob the chicken bones, with a spray-bottle sitting beside her. Every so often, she checks her watch (a complicated process, given the number of dials and bits and pieces upon it) and glances towards the door. Evidently, she's waiting for something. Or someone.
Jerry saunters on into the dining area, drawn by the scents of food and sociability. He waves to a few other kids as he passes by, whistling to himself as he surveys the menu. "Hey, babe," he grins at a passing girl he knows, is rewarded with a laugh and flutter of eyelashes, then he seems to come to a decision and moves into line to get the chicken and veggie specialty course. Once done with the line, he looks out over the various seating options, weighing them.

"Hey, Stein!" Cordelia lifts a hand to wave the boy over. It's incidental that she's waving a half-ooze-digested chicken bone along with it, right? Awkward. "Come look at this." 'This'? Is the blob in the jar, evidently. "It eats anything. When Ma Frankle was gone a couple weeks ago to look in on her grand-daughters, that substitute cook made a mess and these things showed up out of it."

Jerry ooohs and turns, walking over to Cordelia's table. "Heya, 'Delia," he says, shooting her a charming smile and uplifted eyebrows as he checks out the critter. "Whoa," he says, sitting and then leaning in look at the quivering, moving blob. "Heard about that, but I thought they got rid of them all. How did you get hold of one?"

"Synapse and I were the ones who got rid of them. He kept one to experiment on, since he's biotech, and it split — like an amoeba — and I asked for this one to dispose of side-effects of experiments," Cordelia explains easily, giving it the rest of the chicken bone and beaming happily at Jerry. This is not ominous at all, no. She nods towards the squirt-bottle. "That one's a new experiment. Kind of interesting, actually."

Jerry oooohs as he watches the thing dispose of the chicken bone, dinner forgotten for the moment. "Really? Doesn't look as cool as the Blob here, though. Man, look at that little thing go to town!"

It's actually kind of disgusting to watch, but well, teenagers: disgusting is awesome. The bone gets slowly turned into goo, which is then turned into more blob. Cordelia gives Jerry a faintly annoyed look. "It's something that's designed to make it easier to focus on your studies for longer periods. Better concentration and all that."

Jerry snorts. "Like that's gonna happen," he says, fascinated by the little eating machine. He quickly pulls off a chicken leg and strips some meat off it, then chomp chomp chomp's the rest. Then he holds the bone over the little container. "Come here, boy," he says around a mouthfull of chicken, dangling the bone over the carnivorous thing. He swallows in a series of gulps. "Whew, sorry. Hey, how big can this thing get?"

The blob oozes out of the glass jar and leaves a slime-trail over towards the offered chicken bone. Evidently, even if it doesn't have much of a brain, it still knows where a sucker for food-offerings is. "You don't want to know the answer to that," Cordelia notes. "Because if it gets too big, it splits, and I hate dissolving new blobs." She grabs the squirt-bottle. "Want to test it, or scared, Fein?" At least she got his name right this time.

Jerry snorts. "Like, what?" he says, tossing the chicken bone to the squirming little blob. "Sure, I'll test it, babe," he smiles. "Bring it on."

While Cordelia's expression darkens oh-so-slightly at the familiarity, she manages to keep a smile upon her face (albeit through gritted teeth). "Sure!" she says brightly, training the squirt-bottle on Jerry and pulling the trigger. A green-tinted mist escapes, smelling faintly medicinal and leaving an acrid taste on the back of the throat. "If this works, I'll be offering it to a number of other students, too." Oh, you bet she will.

Jerry sneezes, then wipes his face. "Man, that stuff smells like .. euugh.." he says, reaching for his drink and chugging it. "Whew. I don't think you going to be able to package that," he says, rubbing his temple. He frowns, then, at Cordelia. "I.. huh," he says, rubbing his nose, as if he forgot what he was going to say. He looks at the little blob inching for his plate. "Think you ought to contain blobbie, there?"

Unable to quite contain the cackle that escapes her as a somewhat-muffled chortle, Cordelia sets the spray bottle aside. "Oh, don't worry," she says cheerfully. "I'm not planning on packaging anything. Let me know when the effects wear off." Because they inevitably will; this isn't a permanent solution, not yet. She upturns the glass jar over the blob, sliding a petri-dish cover underneath it to prevent it from escaping. "Thank you for volunteering, Fein."

Jerry huhs as Cordy gets up. "Oh, hey, thanks, but I think it's a dud. Really, all I feel is a nasty taste in my throat," he says, downing a few more swallows of juice. "Eugh. Anyway, what's this stuff supposed to do, again? I don't feel any more studious, really," he says. However, there's no by-play between him and the pretty girl scientist: he just states that, spearing some curried chicken in the meanwhile and eating it.

"Hmm. I'll have to work on that," Cordelia notes, watching Jerry thoughtfully for a moment. She's scribbling mental notes, to be sure. People generally don't flirt with her, so that stress-test is not a good one for her. "Try some orange juice or something to wash the taste down. The acid should help with it," she suggests. "It's just supposed to eliminate some distractions from teenage life."

Jerry holds up pineapple juice: his favorite. "This should have enough, I'd think," he says, spearing some more chicken. He raises an eyebrow at that explanation. "Huh. Anyway, I don't feel any different, so.. back to the drawing board?"

About that time, a tall leggy redhead walks by, behind Cordelia, in full view of Jerry. Nothing. Not even a following eye. Instead, he wallows some chicken around in the curry. "This needs more onions, really. Vindaloo is better, I think. You?" he says to Cordy.

"I always prefer garam masala, but tandoori is okay," Cordelia replies, taking a thoughtful bite of what remains of her own food. "Though I've had real tandoori and" She makes a classic finger-splay kiss to the air in backup to her opinion of it. "it was delicious. I miss Professor Karamjit traveling with my parents and I; he used to make his own masala and oh, it was good." She regards Jerry, then tilts her head back to look at the redhead, then back at Jerry. And barely restrains her glee. "So! Where have you traveled?"

Jerry mmphs as he swallows. "A few places. Never did get to India; most of the out of the country travel was classic Western Europe: England, Germany; skied in Switzerland, Tuscany, stuff like that. Mom loves Tuscan cooking." Another redhead and a blonde go by. One drops her fork and bends to pick it up. Narry an eyetwitch from the Boy Hormone. "Did get to go to Peru once. That was cool."

Noting the lack of reaction, Cordelia's grin broadens and she barely restrains the urge to fist-pump and cackle gleefully. "I didn't know you actually skied," she observes with interest. "Peru! The Nazca lines are brilliant, aren't they? They were designed as a corridor for the ley lines — trapping power for the priest class and pointing the way to Cahuachi, their ceremonial site." She gives Jerry a long look. "I didn't know you were so well-traveled. You're pretty interesting when you're not girl-chasing." Whoops.

Jerry waves his fork. "My parents loved to travel and they generally brought us along in the summers - They're both basically self-employed so it wasn't much hardship for them to drop everything and hie off to the South of France for a month in July or whatever. As long as there was a clear Internet connect, Dad could do business." He appears not to have heard the last statement, or at least he doesn't acknowledge it. "They're in Spain, right now; ummm Festa da Ameixa de Campelo is next week. It's a seafood festival."

"Yeah, I've read about it. A pity they'll miss the chance to go to la tomatina, unless they're staying for the end of August," Cordelia comments, drawing on her memory for anything she's read about Spanish festivals. She's continuing to observe Jerry with interest. "Well, I've finished my dinner. I'm going to get going. Thanks for the convo, Jerry." She gathers up her tray and dishes, depositing them on the rack before gathering the rest of her stuff. She'll… just find a safer place to observe from.

Jerry waves his fork and doesn't even call her 'babe' like before. He eats, mildy scanning his surroundings for his buddies, his eyes not really alighting on the hot chicks in the room like he normally would - he just eats and then gets up to dispose of his tray. Whistling, he walks out into the night towards the dorms.

And, from outside, there is a maniacal cackle. Cordelia dances in place, prompting some entering students to stare at her in bemusement before dismissing her as that mad science girl, and continuing on.

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