Can a scientist tell a love story?

The thought of Thrinaxia telling a love story was too… weird for me to pass up. She's SO biased, it's great. Plus, a while ago I promised a story where she and Siggy-boy tell stories from their native land masses, so here's the first. There's really no plot-supported context for the characters. Just pretend that at some point in Studying the Unloved Sig, Thrin, Daxter, Tess, Jak, and Keira were sittin' around the bar listening to stories. (So this is in the Jak2 time period) Kay? Nice and simple. ENJOI!

"I would be pleased to tell you a Perpetuan classic," said Thrinaxia. "It's been passed down for several decades. There have been numerous ballads written about this love story. Would you be interested in hearing it?"

"Ooh, yes," said Tess.

Keira nodded. Jak shrugged. Daxter said, "eh, why not?"

"Sure," said Sig. He tapped the counter and Tess poured him another drink. "I've always enjoyed hearin' stories, ever since my momma told them to me right before bed…"

Daxter mouthed "poopsie bear" to Jak and they laughed. Keira elbowed Jak in the side.

"Very well. Once upon a time there was a little girl who was genetically engineered not to feel love."

"Are you sure you're not talking about yourself?" Daxter said.

Thrinaxia glared at him and continued. "Her chromosomes were assembled in the cleanest of tubes, and her zygote, with the most precise use of rotational cleavage ever seen in the lab, was transplanted into the most suitable womb in the whole democratic republic."

"I don't think I can listen to this," Daxter banged his head against the counter.

Tess pat his arm. "Shh."

"Her development was satisfactory; from mitotic spindle to placental proteins, all went well for the tiny embryo. There was nary an unplanned mutation, and in due time she was born."

"You're not going to describe that, are you? What with the fluids and the breathing and pushing and the…" Daxter paled.

Thrinaxia shook her head. "Very well, I'll skip the descriptions, though they are quite breathtaking." She cleared her throat. "Her birth occurred on a date marked by mild temperatures and partly cloudy skies."

"You know, there's a better way to phrase that," said Daxter. "How about, 'she was born on a beautiful spring day. The birds were singing and the flowers were bloom-'"

"Schmekag!" Thrinaxia crossed her arms. "It is most insulting to be continually interrupted while trying to provide you with entertainment."

Daxter huffed. Jak nudged him in the ribs. "Ow! Okay, sorry. Go on."

"She was raised and trained in the lab, for she was a very special experiment."

"Did she have a name?" asked Tess.

"Yes. SuperX4862."

"Oh," Tess blinked. "I meant, like, a real name…"

"That was her real name," said Thrinaxia. "She picked it herself. SuperX4862 did not like odd numbers, and refused to use one in her identification."

"Time out," said Daxter. "SuperX is not something I can relate to." He put one fist over his heart. "When I hear a love story, I wanna feel it in here, see? Help an ottsel out."

Thrinaxia rolled her eyes. "Fine." She thought for a few seconds.

"Something pretty," said Daxter. He wiggled his digits. "Something sensuous."

"Her name was Karyokinesis."

Daxter smacked himself in the forehead. "That's what I get for asking, isn't it?"

"Karyokinesis was specially formulated with the utmost care and precision," continued Thrinaxia. "For she was a grand experiment. The scientists had been trying to perfect their search for Truth and Knowledge. They refined and improved the scientific method until it could be changed no more, but still they had up to five percent error in many of their product calculations."

"Oh no," said Daxter, waving his arms. "Not five percent error!"

"Yes," nodded Thrinaxia, "inaccurately terrible as it was, they eventually realized that the problem lay not within science, for science is pure and good, but within themselves. So they sought to make the Perfect Scientist, a being capable of a truly unbiased perspective.

"Karyokinesis flourished in the lab environment and soon reached that time period characterized by hormone-entrenchment. Unlike her free-living agemates, however, she did not feel the need for a companion. She lived only to manufacture, invent, and double-check immensely complex chemical equations."

"Wow," said Daxter flatly. "Livin' it up, were we?"

"One fateful night, a member of the janitorial staff fell ill, and needing the income so very badly, sent his eldest son in for that shift's work hours. The boy, whose name was-"

"Let me guess," said Daxter. "Cleany3000?"

"No," said Thrinaxia sourly, "it was Feihvv."

"Five?" Jak looked at his fingers. "Why Five?"

"Feihvv is a traditional Perpetuan name. It only sounds like the number in the Haven dialect."

"Oh."

"Feihvv was shown the janitor's closet, given instruments of cleaning, and his instructions. He was to mop the floors in every room, save the one that lay beyond the doorknob of double-laminated galvanized steel."

"Ya know," said Daxter, "usually the princess lives behind a golden doorknob-"

"SuperX4862 was not a princess!" Thrinaxia slapped her hand on the counter, narrowly missing Daxter's foot. "Gold is too soft to be used for functional doorknobs. Stop interrupting me!" She shot Daxter a look. "Now, as we all know, young people are always tempted to do things they are directly told not to do. Feihvv cleaned and scrubbed the floors of the laboratory until they reflected photons like the blinding light which glares off of snow. Once his labor was complete, and it was complete before midnight, as he was an industrious worker, his gaze settled on that double-laminated galvanized steel doorknob."

"I bet he'll open it," Daxter whispered to Jak.

"Shh!" Tess said. "Don't spoil it for the rest of us."

"Feihvv's mind spun. The possibilities! What could lie beyond such a doorknob? What fascinating things were the scientists making there, that none could enter without proper clearance? Unable to bear the thought of his own ignorance on the subject, he timidly reached one hand out. The door swung open soundlessly, as the day janitor had greased the hinges in the course of his own labor.

"He crept into the room and was slightly disappointed to see the usual lab benches and materials. Just as he was about to leave again, he chanced a glance behind a large bookshelf. There stood a scientist he had never seen before.

"Finally Karyokinesis felt the pressure of his staring eyes. She looked up. Beneath the fluorescent lighting, Karyokinesis blushed at the sight of the boy. She immediately called out to him."

"What did she say?" breathed Tess.

"'Get out of here, I think I'm infected!'"

Keira squinted. "What?"

"You see, Karyokinesis did not know that what she felt was a normal emotional reaction. She thought she was ill. Given her sudden change in facial temperature, there was no other logical explanation for her to make. She immediately contacted the manager, and the boy was removed from the vicinity.

"Fortunately, Feihvv was not so easily discouraged, for he had fallen in love with her on the spot. She was very phenotypically appealing, as far as the standards of the day went. He had had but one glance of her, a composed face behind an Erlenmeyer flask of boiling green liquid. Her long red hair trailed dangerously close to the Bunsen burner, directly disobeying the restrained hair rule of the laboratory."

"Oooh, a real bad girl," said Daxter. He yawned.

"She ordered a thorough examination, but the doctors could find nothing wrong with her-"

"Wait," Daxter furrowed his brows. "Didn't you say she couldn't feel love?"

Thrinaxia scoffed. "Don't you see? Just because you have no genetic predisposition to love doesn't mean you cannot feel it! The emotion is not a product of transcription and translation, but rather of companionship and harmony! That is the greatest love-related expression of all."

"Lady, you can charm the photosyntha-whatsis off a Metal Head, but you can't tell a story."

"Metal Heads don't have photosynthesis-"

"That's not the point!" Daxter waved his arms in the air. "You just can't tell a love story! You've got too much science jargon in there. It puts the reader to sleep! Where's the heart, man? This makes me want to stick crocodog eggs in my ears! I can feel the inside of my brain dying from boredom- waitaminute," his eyes glazed over. "I found something you can't do! You can't tell a love story! Nyah nyah! 'Hi, I'm Thrinaxia, and I have three doctorates, but I can't-'"

"Daxter," warned Jak with a glance at Thrinaxia. "I think you better shut up."

"'-tell a story to save my life! Look at me! Boo hoo! Oh what sad and sorry lachrymal tear thingies I weep!'"

"Seriously, Dax, she's got that gun out-"

"'I can control legions of Metal Heads with a manly grunt but can't tell a wimpy love-'"

BOOMF!

Tess screamed. Keira screamed. Jak blinked. Sig threw his hands over his face.

Daxter seethed.

Thrinaxia set her gun from Static Blast back to off.

"What the hell did you do to me?!" Daxter waved his arms hysterically; all the hair on his body stood on end. Tiny sizzles of electricity etched across his skin. The air smelled faintly of burnt fur.

Unexpectedly, Jak burst out laughing. "Bwaaaaaahahahaha!"

"Jak!" Daxter stomped one foot. "Quit it!" He frantically ran his paws down his chest, trying to smooth his fur.

"I'm sorry," Jak beat the counter with one fist, "but it looks like the time- the time," he clapped Keira on the shoulder, "don't you remember that time-?"

Keira's eyes widened. "Oh yeah!" She doubled over laughing. "Wahaha!"

"Guyssssssss, shut up!" Daxter hissed. He licked one paw and yelped as he shocked himself.

"It's like the time," Jak wiped his eyes, "he knocked over Samos' experiment-"

"-and daddy was so mad he put Daxter in the dryer!"

"Oh Daxxie," Tess bit the corners of her mouth, "I still love you," she reached over to the indignant animal, "ouch!" She snatched her hand back.

"I wouldn't touch him for a few days," said Thrinaxia. She surveyed her audience, most of which was in hysterical fits of laughter. "You Havenites. You've never appreciated fine art. I will not tolerate any further interruptions. You can consider this story to be over."

Sig cracked his knuckles. "That was an okay half a story, for a Perpetuan," he winked. "But my momma was a Dihjrutsá, born and raised a legend-teller. Once these cherries quiet down, I'll tell you a real story."

Hope you enjoyed it. Someday I'll write Siggo's story. Plz review, yo! :F

Karyokinesis: the mitotic division of the nucleus