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Bart The lonely wastelands are dangerous and so people go out on a regular basis looking for refugees, lone wanderers and the ocassional almost-dead-person. Today was Surelda's lucky day! Rather than her brain parts becoming more mulch for the vultures, she was happened upon by some of El Dorado's finest before being carried to one Mr. Bartholomew Caden Knox. No fancy titles. Those kindly folk had other shit to do so that left the bewildered scientist with one unconscious and possibly lobotomized Surelda.

The woman will awaken under the dull hum of a dim light focused on the stitches on her brain. The man who is hovering over her blanket covered form is wearing a pristine lab coat and rubberized gloves as he checks an IV that's attached to her arm. A machine doots cheerily in the background and she feels? Surprisingly better. Even if the bed she's laid in is currently surrounded by what look like laser machines.
Elsie Surelda will take some days to wake. Her body has been through the ringer. Sheâs dehydrated; sheâs intoxicated on chems and even more powerful stuff besides; sheâs sunburnt, or at least she was; sheâs been used as a pincushion. She was wearing only her blue dress when she was found, and it was dirty.

Now that she wakes, her eyes will be glassy from all the chemicals that were in her system, and that had to be pumped out of it. Sheâll try to move, try to roll her head to one side, muttering softly. âSâbright,â she says, her voice as weak as her appearance. âWhyâs it bright? Do watcha need, sugar just â¦â she groans. âDonât make it so bright, please.â

She sounds almost pathetic, now.
Elsie Surelda will take some days to wake. Her body has been through the ringer. She's dehydrated; she's intoxicated on chems and even more powerful stuff besides; she's sunburnt, or at least she was; she's been used as a pincushion. She was wearing only her blue dress when she was found, and it was dirty.

Now that she wakes, her eyes will be glassy from all the chemicals that were in her system, and that had to be pumped out of it. She'll try to move, try to roll her head to one side, muttering softly. "S'bright," she says, her voice as weak as her appearance. "Why's it bright? Do watcha need, sugar just â¦" she groans. "Don't make it so bright, please."

She sounds almost pathetic, now.
Bart Each problem was taken one at a time by the patient and very diligent man. His fingers were soft and gentle, used to softer work than miners or gunslingers. The dehydration was easily fixed with IV and saline solution. The sunburn was treated with his reverse-UV rays until her skin was soft and supple again. The dress is missing, instead she's wearing one of those embarassingly assless gowns underneath the blankets. The muttering brings his attention back around and he hums softly, "Don't move too much," his voice is accented with affluence and a bit of that Old Timey Radio tinge. He pushes a pair of spectacles up the bridge of his nose as he moves over to rest a hand gently on her shoulder. "The light is healing you, I need you to hold still a while longer please," no nonsense from the factual Bart. "I am Bartholomew Caden Knox, you are safe. A strapping fellow dropped you off, then took off again. I figure another few hours and you'll be ready to stand on your own." He's already bringing a scanner over to her head to run over the developing scar. "I redid the stitches in your frontal lobotomy. I don't know who left you for dead, but they stitched you back up for some reason." He's kind of a talker.
Elsie Surelda's eyes try once more to blink open, but with the light shining so bright down against her, all she can do is squint and try to tilt her head away again. But she tries to move less, as he asked. Whatever's happened to her, she's at least responsive. "Yer a healer," she manages to say, trying to lift a hand to shield her features from the bright. It's an uncontious gesture, one the body naturally does to protect itself. She manages to blink a few times, glancing around at the machinery around her. Then she will finally settle back and close her eyes. "...yer an expensive healer." Because for the poor, being treated could be the worst nightmare.r
Bart Bart blinks blankly once and then again as he adjusts a mechanical arm above her, bringing down a window that lights up as he looks at her from the inside out. "I'm a scientist, madame. Your condition was most dire, I would be a dispicable human being if I were to demand you pay me now." The whirring of the examination screen goes away and he sends the mechanical arm up and off into the darkness again. "You're an experiment, or you were," he announces coming to his conclusion aloud as he moves to pick up his tools and sticks the tubes in his ears before breathing on the cold metal disk and sliding his hand under the blanket to find her lungs and listen here and there. "Your blood stream is quite contaminated, your body has been worked over. I would like to see you again in a week to continue therapy," he tells her even as he starts pulling things away, giving her more space.
Elsie "Scientist sounds even more'spensive," Surelda notes, managing a bit of that dry humor even in this most dire of situation. She lifts another hand, squinting against the light once more before things start to pull and sweep away from her vision, and at last, after a few blinks, she can see the man who has saved her life. It's only then that she reaches up to touch the stitching at her temporal lobe, and her brow wrinkles in focus.

"I'll give ya what caps I've got, t's only fair. What ..." she starts to struggle to sit up.

"What do ya mean, experiment?"
Bart Bart shifts up and his gentle hand takes hold of her wrist, pulling her hand back down again to keep her from messing with the bandage over her head currently. "No - no, don't touch it, leave it be for a few more hours, the stitches will disolve on their own," he tells her. Shaking his head he pulls his gloves off and throws them into a bin to be thrown out. "I'm only expensive when you're not in need," he informs her rather bluntly before pointing out, "Well, normally folks don't have their brains mucked with in general. So either you had something they wanted, or they put something in. Either way it was rather peculiar they left you to die in the wastelands afterwards. Makes me think they got what they wanted." He shrugs a bit matter of factly and moves around to pick up a folded pack of clothing. "I spoke to Julia," the maid, "she fetched you something to wear under the dress we found you in. She's cleaned it and stitched it up best she could, but her hand isn't as steady as mine." Bart moves around to finally flick off the machines so that the lights dim down to something much more tolerable. "Can you think of a reason you might have been lobotomized?"
Elsie "I..." Surelda is overwealmed. She tenses and starts when the man grabs for her hand, and her eyes are suddenly clear and big and aware in his general direction when he does so. But he doesn't seem keen to hurt her, just now, so she just relaxes and closes her eyes again.

"I don't know what that means, lo...lo...the word you say. I gather it relates to all this muckin' bout in my brain. I don't ... no, I don't understand anything. It's all just bright, now. Bright like ... like nukes."
Bart Bart seems just as timid after the contact is actually made, yanking his hand back away from her after she pulls away like that. His own eyes widen behind his glasses and he stammers out, "I am dreadfully sorry," he apologizes right then and there and then blinks, "Lobotomize, as in, the procedure they used to cut into your skull. I would have to run further tests to figure out what they went in there for. But I could find out I believe. The rought and tumble gent who dropped you off mentioned you might have an addiction you may want to be rid of. The therapies can include that if you wish." Like it's no big fuckin deal! Well for him it isn't, he's a fucking genius.
Elsie Fuck these geniuses. Geniusii. Whatever the case may be. Life just seems so easy for them.

"Big fellah?" She asks, blinking and shaking her head. "What ... big fellah?" But the allure, of course, is too much. She has to ask about the treatments.

"You can ... make the addictions go away? You got an autodoc?" For a girl who doesn't know what a lobotomy is, autodoc is likely something beyond her too. But she knows of it, which must mean that someone taught her that it's the answer to all her problems. "I don't ... this is all real fast..." Surelda starts to lean back again, to settle back on the table.
Bart Bart lives the highlife, rich and well off, able to do whatever he wants in experiments and pursuing his own version of a eutopian world brought about by particles!

"The Marshal?" he asks hoping the woman knows him at least.

A firm nod comes and he waves his hand off, "I'm very close to figuring out what all goes into the chemicals and how to adjust them inside the body using particles." He explains his fancy idea. Squinting slightly he shrugs, "I don't personally have an Auto-Doc, there was a man who insisted I call him Doctor mentioning an Auto-Doc to get fixed up. But if you need to use one, there's one in Vault-town, don't recall if it handles addictions, but there is one." he shrugs a bit and raises his spectacles to expose his bright blue eyes. "Of course it's fast, everything happens fast in El Dorado, madame. But we will get you back to snuff in no time at all."
Elsie At the Marshal's name, or rather his title, Surelda lowers her arm from her eyes and turns to look at Bart. She struggles, but manages to sit up again. "Marshal ... Marshal Stockton? He ... found me like that?" The thought seems to embaress her, somewhat. "And he brought me here, you know him and he brought me here?" At least if Stockton did bring her here, that means he'd vouch for this man. That seems good enough.

"Your ... particles can make me not an addict anymore?" She seems to slowly be coming around mentally, and her eyes are clearing up as their conversation continues.
Bart Bart nods once firmly, "Yes, that's the one. And he did. Brought you here that is," He says as he moves around to flick a few more things off until the whirring is just a few lights. How does he even have electricity!? "I've met him in passing a few times, he's kept this place safe more than once.

The second part makes him pause and then nod quickly. "Oh yes, absolutely. Atoms brought us into this mess, but particles shall rescue us all, my dear," he tells her and then moves around again to leave the clothing on the bed for her. "These are for you, please feel free to take your time. Julia is nearby, if you need anything that isn't here, and of course please speak with me before you go. We'll arrange for your next treatment, hm?" and then the good science doc is slipping out to find his tea or something.
Elsie Surelda is left bewildered. She manages to squeak out a little. "Yes, sir," to the doctor, or the Mr. or what ever he is. And then, just like that ... she's alive, with a scar on her head, a bit of hair missing, track marks all over her person, and her clothes clean and fresh as much as they can be.

Oh yes, it's all rather bewildering.