1817: Unknown Origins – Prologue, Part ThreePosted: July 23, 2017
Title: Unknown Origins
Media: Video Games
Topic: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Adventure and Romance
URL: Chapter One
Critiqued by Angie
For swearing, nudity, sex, blood, and violence. Hey, it’s Vegas, baby.
And drugs and alcohol. Thanks Cyber.
LAST TIME ON UNKNOWN ORIGINS (ORIGINS, ORIGINS, ORIGINS)
*Angie holds up sock puppets* “Wow I bet our Mary Sue is Porky Pig.” “Wow, Dr. Mitchell sure is a pedophile.” “Wow, we’re actually playing Monopoly!”
And that’s what you missed on Unknown Origins. Let’s continue!
She stared into the mirror… only for a total stranger to stare back at her. Pale skin, almost completely white, emerald green eye.
*slaps a badge on the sentence*
Good job! I’m so proud.
High cheek bones, a button nose, freckles peppering her cheeks and nose. Her hair… it was long. It even fell in front of her face, the back falling down to mid-back. How could anyone have this much hair? It was incredibly frizzy, too. Kinda messy, possibly from being out for so long. As if matching her pale skin, freckles, and green eyes, her hair was a deep, slightly rusty red color.
Oh god…we’ve created a monster. We’ve created….
She pulled part of her bangs aside, and was surprised to find bandages wrapped around her head at an angle to cover her right eye. She reached for the edge of the bandages, but the doctor reached a hand out to stop her.
Have you ever noticed that bandages are the go-to remedy for any and all physical and mental disorders? I sure have.
“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you. I said ya got shot in the head, right? Twice. I may have been a good enough doctor to save your life…
‘Good’ enough is up to interpretation. I, for one, think this Mary Sue is insufferable, already, and I’m pretty sure if she had died from the get go, I would be riffing the same exact fanfiction.
but I couldn’t save your eye. And ya might want to check your forehead.”
She moved the fiery hair from her forehead, and was surprised to find a scar there.
Really? I’m not. How do you think Dr. Mitchell went poking around for bullets in your brain? Using his telekinetic powers? I doubt it.
Circular, with vein-like protrusions extending out in oblong directions. Yes, definitely a gunshot wound.
*peers* I don’t know, seems fishy to me. I bet you were just bitten by an alligator with knives for teeth. You’ll be fine, just take an ibuprofen.
“Um… h-how long do I have to wear the bandages, doctor?”
“Well, I had to remove your entire right eye to avoid infection. It’s just a heavily scarred socket right now. You should fully heal in a few days,
*hits buzzer* What is bullshit?
“Bullshit is correct!”
Cyber: He actually meant the wound would heal. As in, stop being raw. The scar would stay. But yeah, bullshit is correct.
but don’t remove the bandages until you’ve got somethin’ else to protect yer socket with.”
‘nd ‘n the me’nt’m’, keep using apostrephers ‘nd weird-ass grammar. (Weird ass-grammar?)
Cyber: That’s his canon accent, though.
She took a moment to look around the room, and found it very blurry. “Um… doctor… why’s everything so fuzzy?”
Well, you lost an eye due to infection due to being shot in your forehead. I’m pretty sure that more than explains a bit of blurryness.
Doc Mitchell quirked an eyebrow. “Hm? Oh. Well, you still have one eye left. You must be nearsighted in it. Lemme go fetch a pair.”
OR THAT, BECAUSE WHAT THE HELL DO I KNOW.
The doctor got up and walked into the other room. He soon returned with a pair of glasses with perfectly round, thick lenses with no frames around then, as well as a green ribbon.
Does Dr. Mitchell just magically know Mary’s prescription? Or did he just take a wild fucking guess and somehow got it right by magic or something?
Cyber: I have no defense for this unmitigated bullshit. I hate past!me.
So do I. I hate past you too.
He placed the glasses on for her, making her lightly blush from the tender care, then held out the ribbon for her to take. “You can use this to tie your hair with. Someone like you with that much could probably use it.”
Literally the only thing I can think is that Mary is secretly Violet Baudelaire. This is truly the epitome of ‘my Mary Sue has no personality of her own so let’s just mash together a bunch of other source materials’.
She squeaked out a tiny thank you, running her hands through her frizzy, messy hair to tie it with the deep green ribbon. When she struggled with it, the doctor patted her on the shoulder, motioning for her to turn around. She turned, blushing as he carefully and gently tied her hair.
I guess Mary just has a weird fetish with people tying her hair into a ponytail. I don’t know about you, but I’ve certainly been moaning and breathing [and whatever else people do when aroused] since the beginning of this riff. The tying of the hair is just the icing on the cake.
Okay, okay. Maybe I’m reading too much into this. Maybe she just gets anxiety when people tie her hair. It’s not completely out of left field like it would be if she was having a random orgasm, but come on.
Cyber: I don’t even remember what my intention with that was.
When he was done, her hair was, save for a great deal of untidy frizz that fell from her bangs to frame her face, swept back into a ponytail and tied with the ancient ribbon.
So…not actually all that tied. Get a bigger ribbon. Priorities, motherfucker.
Beyond that it poofed quite a bit in most other directions. She hoped some of this frizz would go down once she washed her hair… She turned around, fidgeting with her fingers nervously. “Th-Thank you, doctor… y-you’ve been so nice to me.”
Raindrop. Drop top. This is Porky Pig mixed with Arnold and Carrot Top.
“Don’t mention it. Now… are you hungry?”
Probably. Mary’s been asleep for a few days, right? Do you expect me to believe she’s still full after last week’s twenty piece chicken nugget rave at McDonald’s?
She was about to answer no, but then her stomach growled, making Doc Mitchell chuckle.
Things I could be doing right now rather than review this fic:
- Watch an hour compilation of some YouTuber or Viner.
- Eat food.
- Read an actual book.
- Review something else.
- Literally anything else.
Cyber: Then why riff this fic when you’d rather be riffing something else?
I made a promise. A deal with the devil, if you will.
“Lemme go fetch ya somethin’ to eat.”
Without asking if you have any food allergies or if you’re vegan or whatever. God, I’m a great doctor!
The girl nodded, watching the doctor walk away into another room. She looked down at her body, getting a look at it for the first time.
I guess you just expect me to believe she hasn’t looked down since she woke up, or didn’t even get a passing glance? Okay.
Like her face, her body was very pale, like most redheads, but her shoulders and arms were dotted with freckles like her cheeks and nose, which she could see when she pulled up the sleeves of her jumpsuit, or pulled the collar off her shoulders.
Hmm. So Cyber has told me considerable that the character was initially black but she had to change it by shoving the fact that she’s a pale redhead with freckles down our throats.
Really? I wouldn’t have noticed.
Her breasts were… very large. Especially on her small frame. She guessed she was about five feet tall, and quite petite except for her breasts.
Oh! Oh! Oh! *slams fist on buzzer* You should mention the large tits! And after that, you should mention her boobs!
She wasn’t slender, though, nor athletic. The little roll her stomach made when she sat down and leaned forward proved that.
She’s pretty and ditsy, but also chubby and awkward! Just! Like! You!
She lifted the skirt of her patient gown up next to get a look at her lower areas, surprised to find her red hair was completely natural. She really was a ginger, wasn’t she?
Hmm…I don’t know, it hasn’t exactly been shoved down my throat enough yet.
The girl hurriedly pushed her patient gown back down before the doctor saw her staring at her nether regions,
*workers rush into broom closet*
Oh my god…not you again!
Anti Joke Brigade Officer #12: Yes!
The line wasn’t that funny.
Anti Joke Brigade Officer #12: Yes!
turning to see the doctor walk in with a tray holding a metal spoon and a brown bowl of steaming liquid that smelled really good. He sat down in the chair and placed it on the girl’s lap. Grabbing the spoon, he dipped it into the bowl and held it out for her mouth to take it, which she blushed and allowed.
Does Dr. Mitchell figure that Mary’s arms don’t work either? If you say so, I guess.
“What is this?” she asked after she swallowed it.
“Wasteland penguin soup.” Doc Mitchell explained.
“What’s a wasteland penguin?”
A penguin from a wasteland. Duh. Read…read a book?
“Well, they’re pretty common around here, but I guess you wouldn’t know that due to yer amnesia, so I’ll try to explain. There were these animals around before the War called chickens that were used to lay eggs for eating, and also had pretty good meat. Supposedly, their ancestors were big lizards that lived millennia ago. Well, after the bombs fell, the chickens devolved back to reptilian scales, though they still kept their overall body structure, still lay good eggs, and still have good meat. Farming towns like Goodsprings raise them along with centisheep, Brahmin, pig rats, and bighorners.”
*turns, looks back at the AJB*
Anti Joke Brigade Officer #7: *smiles and waves widely* Hallo!
*continues looking for a second, then turns back to manuscript* Not. A. Fucking. Word.
“Centisheep? Bighorners? Brahmin? Pig rats?”
I know, I know hon. I’m confused too. We can get through this.
“Well, those are long stories. The fact bombs caused mutations in a lot of other animals, too. Centisheep are really long sheep with lots of legs. Pig rats are like mole rats, but with more pig like qualities and really good meat, unlike their more mole-like cousins. Brahmin are two-headed cattle, while bighorners are mutated mountain goats, or something like that. We mostly raise bighorners in this town.”
Wow. So we’ve got sheep with random limbs all over their bodies, that rat from Kim Possible with a more dramatic nose, a hydra/horse love child, and mutated mountain goats, or something like that. I’m certainly spooked.
“What do you use them for?”
“Meat and hide, mostly. Ya can’t put a pack on them like ya can a Brahmin. Bighorners just lie down until ya take it off again.”
So it’s a mutated goat with the emotional stability of a big cuddly dog. And these are our villains.
She giggled at that. Seemed like bighorners were both lazy and smart.
Apparently that’s an admirable thing in this universe. It’s almost like these things don’t ever cross paths. Oh, fic. It’s so easy to make fun of you.
“Now, finish your soap, then we’ll be ready for some more tests.”
That’s what you’re questioning? I’m worried about the fact that Dr. Mitchell has in fact squirted Dawn dish soap into your soup. Safe for ducks? Maybe. Safe for humans? I bet not.
“Well, I need to make sure you’re still physically capable. Not to mention a few psychiatric tests. Nothin’ sayin’ those bullets did leave you nuttier than a bighorner droppin’.”
Okay, Cyber. I’ve read that sentence five times and it hasn’t made any more sense each time I read it.
She nodded, finishing up her soup quickly so as not to make the doctor wait.
I’m just saying that if you get poisoned, I’m going to be the one saying ‘I told you so’.
Well, luckily that’s all the time we have. I’m Angie, and…let’s just hope it gets better.