1817: Unknown Origins – Chapter One, Part Three

Title: Unknown Origins
Author: Cyberweasel89
Media: Video Games
Topic: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Adventure and Romance
URL: Chapter One
Critiqued by Angie
Rating: M

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….

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

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!”

Yahey!

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.

*record screech*

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.”

That’s…that’s racist?

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.

You…

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.

“I’m back.”

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!

*groans*

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.”

“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’.

Sick bastards.

Well, luckily that’s all the time we have. I’m Angie, and…let’s just hope it gets better.

(It doesn’t.)

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53 Comments on “1817: Unknown Origins – Chapter One, Part Three”

  1. AdmiralSakai says:

    Pale skin, almost completely white, emerald green eye.

    Only the one, though.

    • AdmiralSakai says:

      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.
      “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…
      but I couldn’t save your eye.

      Well I’ll be damned!

  2. AdmiralSakai says:

    when she pulled up the sleeves of her jumpsuit, or pulled the collar off her shoulders.

    I thought she was wearing a hospital gown.

  3. AdmiralSakai says:

    I’m certainly spooked.

  4. BatJamags says:

    It was incredibly frizzy, too.

    Was it, perhaps, a bitchin’ frizz?

    • I don’t get it. ^^;

      • BatJamags says:

        Reference to a fic Ghostie riffed. There was a dog in it (who was probably supposed to be a Bichon Frise who the author kept referring to as a bitchin frizz.

      • GhostCat says:

        It’s from Kawaii Desu Vampire Sexy (A.K.A. KDVS) – the same fic that gave us the Coochipede, a many-legged carnivorous insect that was inserted vaginally and served as a combination birth control, rape preventative, and living tampon.

      • Sounds more like a parody or trollfic than an actual badfic.

      • BatJamags says:

        Having recently gone over the riffs, I’d guess that it was probably a clumsy trollfic that managed to stumble its way into some sort of bizarre recursive badness through a misunderstanding of what makes good trollfics funny (hint: it’s not just being as relentlessly offensive and incoherent as possible).

        • GhostCat says:

          I’m ninety-nine percent convinced that it is a trollfic that tried too hard since there’s a lot of inconsistencies you wouldn’t find in a “real” badfic, like the same word getting misspelled different ways and wildly uneven grammar. I kind of wish I had been able to include some of the author’s responses to remarks on the original DA postings, they were a real treat.

  5. BatJamags says:

    “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,

    Alright, I’ve given up trying to figure out the logistics of this wound. Sure, Eyepatch of (Dubiously Existent) Badassitude, why not?

    • BatJamags says:

      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.

      Ooh, the eyepatch/glasses combo. Looks like somebody has all of the ocular health issues.

      All of them.

    • Leider Hosen says:

      Actually, in the reboot of my novel I did a little research and yes, having one eye would fuck up your long-distance vision, but not in the way displayed. It has to do with how your brain processes visual information. Everything with two eyes has what’s called binocular vision, meaning the brain takes in two visual inputs, then compares the two side by side to get the full picture, basically.

      That’s why depth-perception is a thing; you can measure the distance between the two “halfs” of the picture to get an idea of the scale and position of an object being observed. “Acquired monocular vision”, or,” fuck I lost an eye”, destroys your depth perception and reduces your overall field of vision by 45%, and you completely lose peripheral vision on that side.

      I had a cat that lost an eye, and you could see this. He could still see things alright, but he constantly ran into walls and didn’t jump that much because he couldn’t accurately perceive the distance of an object even if he could see it clearly. Thankfully the brain is highly adaptable. While you can never have the FoV of someone with both eyes, after a few months of recovery you will naturally adjust to having one eye and be able to gauge distance as good as anyone else (Popeye can catch birds now, he was a kitten when he lost the eye so he’s dealt with it most of his life).

      Now, if this phenomena was in the fic and she spent a chunk of the story having the shitiest aim in the wasteland and having to adjust to her handicap, that would be interesting. But no, it’s tote the same as needing glasses and a simple lens will just fix the issue full-stop, eliminating a potentially interesting element.

      Another fun fact: Lupa, who loses an eye when he fucks up massively (the reason I did research), actually subverts the eyepatch of badassitude trope. People go “Oh, kewl eyepatch bruh” and Lupa hates it because the incident that caused him to lose his eye also killed a lot of his newfound friends, and being reminded of it is plain painful. He’s also very aware he’s handicapped and half his face was destroyed by an explosion of molten glass and radiation, which isn’t pretty to look at.

      • Actually, the glasses were in no way intended to compensate for Sue-chan missing her eye. I planned to reveal later down the line that she needed glasses even before losing an eye. Losing an eye isn’t going to make someone suddenly not need glasses anymore. And later on it’s shown that she’s shit with long-range weapons because she’s still adjusting to the loss of her eye, and so adapts a melee build. However, while I didn’t get far enough to do it, she was planned to later on adjust to her new visual acuity and adopts a side arm.

      • GhostCat says:

        I would think she would be worse with a melee weapon or even a sidearm that you need good depth perception for and just as good or better with a long-range weapon like a rifle, since you only need one eye to use the sights.

      • Pubescent, hormonal, Cyber didn’t really think it through.

      • Leider Hosen says:

        Okay, all good points here, though I’m with Ghostie in regards to the melee weapon.

        While in theory it’s easier to aim a melee weapon than a gun, there were two gaping flaws with this plan:

        1). Losing the majority of your FoV would actually make using melee a lot more risky than it already is. You couldn’t react to anything on your blind side so you’d need to move your head a lot to keep enemies in focus, and as Ghostie said the lack of depth perception would mean swinging at thin air more than a couple times. Standing a distance allows you to compensate because as you stand further away from something, more of it is in focus.

        2). Using a melee weapon in general is a terrible idea! Seriously. It works in video games, but applying real world logic, using anything that isn’t a gun in the Mojave Wasteland is just an asinine idea. It’d be wise to carry a melee weapon as a last resort or for conserving ammo if you are positive you can get away with it, but running around with an inability to use guns is just begging to die. There are hoards of humans that want to kill you armed with guns that way out-range your melee weapon, but that’d be the least of your worries. You have Cazadors, Deathclaws, Geckos the size of dogs, Super Mutants, and killer robots as well.

        Could you imagine trying to hack a Sentry Bot apart with a machete? Yeah. It’d be a far more intelligent to heavily practice with conventional weapons until your shot is at least passable before venturing outside safe territory.

        Really, and this happens to the best of us, this is one of those ideas that sounds perfectly reasonable when you’re in the early stages of development, but when you put it under a critical lens it just falls apart and it becomes apparent there are far more pragmatic options to solve the problem.

      • Like I said, I didn’t really think this through at the time. And to make it even worse? Sue-chan isn’t just a melee fighter: She’s an UNARMED fighter. I think my logic at the time was “may not work in RL, but if it works in the game, it’ll work for this fic.” Only thing close to a weapon she has is *groans* boxing tape. Which, yes, is an actual in-game Unarmed-class weapon, but hardly the strongest in its category.

  6. BatJamags says:

    I made a promise. A deal with the devil, if you will.

    Kane: *Shuffles papers* All contracts with otherworldly entities are to be reviewed by the Office of Interdimensional Law.

    That’s a thing?

    Kane: Yes.

    Is interdimensional law a thing?

    Kane: In some dimensions. For the most part, we claim no responsibility for the actions of the lawless renegades who comprise the populace of this particular… institution.

    And you called your thingy OIL?

    Kane: The fool told me that all good acronyms spell a word.

    And you went along with that?

    Kane: I really didn’t care.

    Alright, fair enough.

  7. BatJamags says:

    Her breasts were… very large.

    Thank god the fic explained this to us. Otherwise… uh… I mean… It should be obvious why not learning this information would be really bad for the narrative. Hell, I shouldn’t even have to explain it!

  8. BatJamags says:

    “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.”

    *Dumbfounded stare*

    Well.

    That’s it.

    We’ve found it. The most pointless, pedantic, awkward, exposition-laden single paragraph ever written. This is, like, the holy grail of why the fuck am I reading this. I mean, shit, somebody call Indiana Jones. This piece of history right here belongs in a museum. People will come from all over the world to see an artifact of the day natural-sounding dialogue died. And the ticket prices? Will be insane. I knew I took that history major for a reason! Who says historians don’t make any money?

    I mean, other than me.

    • Leider Hosen says:

      In a good fic it’d go like this:

      “The hell are wasteland penguins?”

      “Oh right, you’re headbox is broked. How ’bout we go outside while you eat, maybe seeing some familiar sights will jog your memory?”

      “‘Kay.” *puts on clothes and takes bowl out on the front porch under the Mojave sun, eating while taking a scenic tour of Goodsprings; point out some of the sights and characters, say “hi” to people going to work, have that one Powder Ganger asshole shouting to introduce them, visit the animals and maybe show them being tended by 23rd century farmers to show the agricultural stuff they do while also discussing the animals. Mary Sue and Doc bond over the experience and develop character*

      “Ring any bells?”

      “Nope.”

      “Alrighty, how about we talk to Sunny Smiles and see if she can give you a couple pointers, target practice, and find something useful for you to do since liek, trying to go to New Vegas right now is literally suicidal since you can’t see shit and don’t even know what penguins are. You won’t last three seconds against the Legion, Cazadors, Deathclaws, Geckos, Powder Gangers, Ghouls, and fuck knows what else”

      “Thank you doctor, I am not comfortable around people but I am a mature adult and will do the responsible and logical thing you just said.”

    • Sweet! Do I get an award? :D

  9. BatJamags says:

    I’m certainly spooked.

  10. AdmiralSakai says:

    “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.”

    Unknown Origins: Come for the giant breasts, stay for… the post-nuclear natural-history lesson?

  11. TacoMagic says:

    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.

    *Skepticism*

  12. TacoMagic says:

    but don’t remove the bandages until you’ve got somethin’ else to protect yer socket with.”

  13. TacoMagic says:

    Cyber: I have no defense for this unmitigated bullshit. I hate past!me.

    So do I. I hate past you too.

    You should meet past-Taco. He was a moron AND a doucebag. Well, a bigger douchebag, anyway.

    • GhostCat says:

      GhostKitten’s only redeeming trait was that she wrote everything longhand and thus never inflicted herself upon the Intertubez of the day, such as they were. It’s better that way; I went through a very brief ‘goth’ phase at one point so there’s at least one notebook full of vampires (Luckily this was in the pre-sparklepire days.) and several times I completely changed the plot of certain stories just to avoid using certain words because I wasn’t sure how to spell them. (This was also pre-spellcheck days.)


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