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azurdlywisterious · 3 months

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The Brainless Ones

AN: As per this poll here, Sir won so it’s time to unleash her on the Mojave. Bit of a challenge for myself trying to keep Sir’s seven different names straight in a way that’s easy to follow, but I think I did it.

Word count: 1.6k

CW: body horror played for comedy (idk how else to describe sir’s empty head), very unethical scientific practices

My eyes take a second to refocus after I’ve been teleported. The doctors made sure to fit my ears with long range walkie talkies so that I could answer their questions in the moment.

“SHELLEY, DID YOU ARRIVE AT THE CRASHED SATELLITE IN ONE PIECE?” Dr. Klein yells into mic.

“You know, you’ll blow out Azami’s speakers if you keep screaming in her ear like that, Klein,” Dr 0 comments.

“I made it one piece,” I inform them before they continue bickering.

Dr. Dala replies, “I’m so happy to hear my little teddy bear Shiloh is doing well.”

I hear the static of Dr. 8 talking, noises that roughly translate to, “Check the screen in your forearm, Lizabeth.”

So I do. It appears that I have a little map of this desert projected on it. There’s even a little “you are here” dot. I’m assuming it will update as I explore more towns and whatnot.

“And how is my granddaughter Dorothy doing?” Dr. Mobius’s voice crackles in my other walkie talkie set.

“How did YOU even get access to Vera’s communication channels, MOBIUS?!” Dr. Borous yells (though thankfully not as loudly as Dr. Klein).

I interject before another argument starts, “My map says that I’m next to a ghost town named Nipton.”

“REPORT ANYTHING INTERESTING YOU FIND, SHELLEY.”

“This is the Think Tank-” Dr. 0 begins saying before getting cut off.

“And Dr. Mobius!”

Dr 0 sighs, “-and Dr. Mobius, signing off.”

I hear them shut their walkie talkies off, leaving me alone in the Mojave.

My first goal: find an assistant. A lab partner if you will.

I poke around Nipton for a while, taking time to examine the dead lobotomites littering the quiet streets, before inevitably moving on. There’s nothing really of interest here. Radscorpions, maybe, but we have radscorpions back at Big MT. I pick a direction that looks promising and follow the road. It should lead somewhere with at least a couple of live lobotomites.

Eventually I am met with some massive lobotomite adjacent creatures. They’re much more muscular than me and their skin is green too. How peculiar. I snap a couple pictures with my eyes. The Think Tank will be thrilled to have pictures of these creatures in situ.

Before I could even attempt to talk one into coming back to the lab with me, I am met with the end of a club made out of rebar and concrete. Dr. Klein made sure to outfit me with gymnastic procedures, so dodging the club was easy. The LRADs Dr. 8 planted in my palms made quick work of them too. I’ll have to ask him if they can be retuned later. At a lower decibel range it might make good crowd control in order to take potential subjects back alive.

I zap the corpses with my Transportalponder for the doctors to examine later.

After walking a bit longer, I suddenly hear, “SHELLEY! WHAT ARE THESE BIG GREEN THINGS SITTING ON THE FLOOR OF THE THINK TANK?”

“They appear to have once been human,” Dr. Dala hypothesizes, “maybe. I will have to give them a more thorough examination.”

“Please try and keep the formography obsession to a minimum this time,” Dr. 0 whines.

The doctors continue their squabbling, but I don’t interrupt. I find their chatter rather soothing out here in this quiet desert.

Eventually, their chatter subsides as they return to their calculations and experiments, neglecting to close the frequency.

I hear Dr. Dala remark, “So they were human once. Fascinating. What happened to them?”

She must be examining those weird beings I found while walking.

“Dala! Allow ME to examine these STANGE CREATURES from the Mojave!” Dr. Borous interjects.

I turn the walkie talkie frequency off, since it appears that I have found more lobotomites.

Based on the movies Dr. 0 would show me, I can see that that is a rollercoaster attached to a hotel. I have no idea why someone would want to attach a rollercoaster to a hotel, though.

I feel a cool breeze descend upon my skin as the sun goes down. I must have been walking for quite a while.

I see an interesting looking lobotomite leaning up against the side of one of the other buildings. His hair is gray despite his young face. He opens his mouth and a puff of smoke comes out. Cigarettes are another thing I learned from Dr. 0’s movies. That and Dr. Borous’s war stories about his days at American High School.

As I approach this lobotomite, he raises his head from his cigarette.

“Now, what’s a pretty lady like you walking around all by herself this late at night?” he asks me.

“Fascinating,” I mutter to myself. “I didn’t know lobotomites could talk.”

He chuckles at my observation. “Now, last time I checked, I haven’t been lobotomized yet, so you should aim your insults elsewhere.”

“Insults?” I cock my head in confusion. “Are you not a lobotomite? Then what are you?”

“Not much these days.” He puffs another cloud of smoke. “Barely even a man these days.”

He takes another drag off his cigarette and I snap a picture of him with my eyes. I have no reason as to why. I don’t think the Think Tank would really care. But I care? Strange. I’ll have to export that picture with a caption about how I feel. Dr. Mobius would be the most likely to have an answer.

“So, if you’re gonna keep staring at me, can you tell me your name?”

What do I tell this lobotomite? The doctors names for me are theirs to call me. I can’t give him that. So what name should I give him? What other names have I been called?

I’ve got it.

“You can call me-”

“Dorothy!” Dr. Mobius’s sing-songy voice comes in loud and clear through the walkie talkie in my ear. “Have you made a friend? Do be sure to offer him a Mentat for me.”

I pop open my head to fish out a Mentat packet from my cranial cavity. I see the lobotomite’s cigarette fall from his lips as he watches with an expression on his face. I have no idea what expression that is.

I hold the Mentat packet out for him. “Dr. Mobius-”

Dr. Mobius cuts me off again with a clearly fake cough.

I sigh and start over, saying, “Dr. Grandpa Mobius wants me to ask you if you would like a Mentat.”

Before the lobotomite can respond, there’s a loud crash followed by Dr. Mobius hastily saying, “There’s been an accident with the roboscorpions in the lab. I have to go, Dorothy! Ta-ta!”

I realize that my head is still open so I shut it. “Would you like a Mentat?”

“Did… did you just pull that out of your head?”

“Where else would I store Mentats?”

“In your pockets! Or- by jove, what even are you?!”

He brandishes a weapon at me. I’m not to worried, though. I calmly put the Mentat packet in the pocket of my pants.

“9mm pistol,” I say. “Based on how heavy it appears to be with you holding it, you only have one to three rounds left in the chamber. It’s in poor condition, and I can smell the adrenaline seeping through your skin, so you’re more likely to miss. And you’ll need more than three bullets to take me out.”

“How did you-?”

“Likewise, I would rather not fight you. You seem like a perfect lab assistant.”

“Lab assistant?”

I roll my eyes and quickly disarm him. One shot goes off but it embeds itself in the wall.

“Sit down,” I say to him. “Drink some water.”

“If it’s also from your skull, then I’d rather not.”

“Suit yourself.” I shrug and sit down next to him. “What’s your name, lobotomite? Do lobotomites have names?”

“I have a name!” he yells with a force not unlike a soda bottle after the soda’s been shook up. “It’s Beagle. Used to be the deputy of this fine town; but well, things change.”

“Fascinating.”

“That guy’s disembodied voice called you Dorothy. Is that your name?”

“That not a name you get to call me,” I can feel my internal fans starting to whirr. “That’s Dr. Mobius’s name for me. You are not Dr. Mobius.”

“Okay? So what should I call you?”

“You can call me Sir.”

He smiles again. “Why Sir?”

“That’s what the Sink’s Central Processing Unit calls me and is the only name I go by that’s not been claimed by a doctor.”

“You’re one strange girl, Sir.”

“Really?” I cock my head to the side again. “The doctors say I’m quite normal.”

“Normal people don’t pull Mentats out of their heads.”

“What else do normal people do?”

His face flushes a delightfully pink color. “You put me on the spot with that one.”

“You’re saying that you don’t have all the answers?”

He chuckles again. “The people in this town don’t necessarily think I’m the smartest person.”

“Come with me, then.” I extend my hand to Beagle. “Be my science deputy.”

He laughs genuinely at that. “What even is a science deputy?”

“It’s a lab assistant, but I renamed it to sound more enticing.”

I pick up his gun and hand it back to him.

He takes it and says, “Well, I can’t have a big mouthed little lady like you roaming the desert alone. I’ll be your science deputy, Sir.”

“Excellent! We’ll start tomorrow. But first,” I pull that packet out of my pocket, “would you like a Mentat?”

#fallout new vegas #old world blues #fallout fanfic #sir of big mt

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