8Just sandbox things…
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
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Hello, sandbox!
Third Wave Sandbox
Moving all this page's contents over.
Self-reminder:
- boogeymobile23 said 2 days ago: reminder - thing where people literally die via euphemisms for dying
- pendleton_miller said 2 days ago: oh and also the thing where humans are corpses on vacation and thats why people hate dying
said "Dracuum". Could it least be entry in anomalous items log.
"AE-2880 is a vacuum cleaner bearing the brand name "Dracuum" in bold letters on its exterior casing. These vacuums, for the most part, function normally; their anomalous property is an incredible effectiveness for cleaning bloodstains. One pallet containing 30 units was brought to Foundation custody when it was delivered to a local store despite not being included in the shipping manifest and having no record of origin. Any further instances recovered are to be forwarded to the nearest regional Materials Dept facility for distribition to Foundation custodial staff.
Misc. Info
Old outdated semi-essays
Serpent's Hand: GOI Names
WL Label | Related Group | Misc |
---|---|---|
The Jailors | The Foundation | - |
The Bookburners Big Brother |
The GOC | - |
The Hanged One | The Hanged King | SCP-701 |
The Merchants | Marshall, Carter & Dark, Ltd | - |
The Devout | Church of the Broken God | - |
The Neverwere | Oneiroi Collective | ??? |
The Nameless One | Nobody | ? (Pretty sure though) |
The Remnant | (No guess) | ??? |
The Magpies | (No guess) | ??? |
The Madmen | Chaos Insurgency | - |
The Daeva | The Daevites | SCP-140 |
Task Force Classifications
M Combat Task Force
C Containment Task Force
G Engineering Task Force
E Esoteric Task Force
T Tracking Task Force
U Undercover Task Force
Combat Task Force
Similar to a military company. Any Combat Task Force should be made up of at least one full infantry platoon. This is to ensure adequate numbers for practically carrying out tactical operations. For M-MTFs consisting of multiple platoons, each Platoon Commander reports to MTFC and/or MTF2iC (2nd in command) A full battalion strength Combat Task Force may also include armoured/transport/support divisions.
Non-Combat MTFs
Follow a similar hierarchy (Members report to Team Leaders, Team Leaders report to Branch Heads, Branch Heads report to MTFL) though number of members in each team or branch are variable. A 'team' may be just a pair of, or even a single operative; and a 'branch' may consist of a single team. On the other hand, a team could include a dozen or more operatives if deemed practical. More like a corporate structure, with potential for lateral movement of members between teams or teams between branches.
Although these Task Forces may temporarily recruit extra numbers to meet tactical/logistical needs (colloquially referred to as "Contracted Labourers" or "Temps"), their core members are highly effective specialists in their respective areas of expertise.
Containment Task Force:
Each Containment Task Force tends to have a specific domain, from aerial to marine-based, from biological to bio-hazardous. The common thread is they're experts in their fields, and they know how to capture anomalies.
Engineering Task Force:
G-MTF roles in modern times have largely shifted to computer-based analysis and containment of anomalies by way of programming. Engineering Task Forces often have large branches dedicated specifically to monitoring electronic networks.
Esoteric Task Force:
Esoteric Task Forces contain Foundation members well-versed in religious, occult, and other mythologies. E-MTFs use symbolism, rituals, or other mystic means to contain anomalies. These task forces are also often the ones best suited for countering and containing memetic and otherwise cognitohazardous anomalies.
Tracking Task Force:
Specialists in picking up and staying on the trails of anomalies, and rumors of. Tend to be a combination of data analysts and boots-on-the-ground tracking teams. T-MTFs cover a very wide range of specializations; from standard tracking over any terrain, to following trends in specific populations, to pursuing info through data records.
Undercover Task Force
The teams of these forces are most likely to be isolated cells capable of operating independently, having only occasional direct contact with their Team Leaders. Team Leaders analyze data collected by their teams, passing pertinent information upwards to Branch Heads, and convey the Team's objectives to each member. Branch Heads inform each TL of the Branch's objectives and demand results.
Team members themselves often act as the point-of-contact for The Foundation's network of 'freelance reporters' (members of the general public in position to be aware of anomalous incidents, and incentivized to pass such knowledge to undercover Foundation agents). They then follow-up on these reports independently, with back-up when necessary, and share the results of their investigation with their TLs. Once the presence of an anomaly is confirmed, U-MTFs will call in an appropriate reactionary task force.
Tiered Review:
SPaG, Formatting, Tone, etc.
vs.
Concept, [+++], etc.
Basic level things most reviwers can point out, as opposed to the kind of elements that more seasoned veterans are best at examining.
Seperating the base-level crits from more advanced-type crits.
Drafts passing a "Tier-1" review equivalent vs. "Tier-0" drafts (a.k.a.= fresh, no review, cold)
…..
Table 3 (Ideas 1)
- Cover Page 2
- Notes
- River City Shuffle
- MDAW Ideas
- SCP-2x3C-BUP-ICE(ooDH&R)-J
- 'UnDergrounD RailroaD' Ideas
- Nothing
- 'D-tainment Breach'
- D-Class Central Holding Facility
Writing-related stuff on this table!
Ideas
- Account of Foundation personnel who has to escape Foundation for.. reasons (accessing files beyond their clearance? A double-agent for a GOI? Falsely accused of being a double-agent for a GOI? Received a dose of amnestics that didn't take?)
- SCP-241-J Appears to be a tall humanoid in a long coat. Is actually two seperate, smaller humanoids; one atop the other's shoulders!
- Chaos Insurgency Alpha Goon's Diary and Reserch Jurnal!
- "going to be pretend to be a researcher and infiltrate the Foundation like a spy. This book is like practice.."
- Ethics Dept Inspector that takes backhanders and bribes for keeping his reports clean.
- Overarching attitude that what the Foundation does is for the good of the world, and freaks like these don't even deserve rights since they're just disasters waiting to happen.
- Security staff - Multiple viewpoints of an event
- A tale about a Foundation agent trying to catch an alternate-universe version of himself that's ended up in this reality.
- A massive conspiracy that centres around a cute lil' pupper.
- Dr. Wondertainment's Nuclear Power Plant Playset! (idea c/o AidenEldritch)
- "Now with the new Enriched Uranium™ bricks, you too can recreate your own nuclear fission plant! Just use some everyday pencils for the graphite logs and watch this baby go!!!"
- "Lead shielding is for environmentally unsafe squares™!" / "You're too young to be listening to heavy metal, let alone wearing it!"
- An article involving the Unusual Incidents Unit that explains what really happened to Elvis. The article should explore slavery.
- An article about a parade that recurs once a day and that's anomalously kind. The article should evoke deprivation.
- An article involving the body as an object that explains the Tunguska Incident. The article should explore sympathy.
- An anomalous flag that the Foundation must repeatedly capture.
Agent Ben Buggeman
- Field Agent, member of U-MTF Delta-88 (basically a bush-league version of Pi-1 "City Slickers" assigned to smaller cities that require Foundation presence)
- Cover is as a private investigator in River City. Small independent operation (Seeking Certainty Private Investigations)
- Constantly on the look-out for signs of anomalous activity in the area, sometimes using fabricated clients as a cover for his interest in these events.
- Heavy drinker; occasional drug user; takes almost nothing seriously, short of immediate life-or-death situations; trying to be like a hard-boiled detective character from pulp noir fiction.
- Otherwise a dedicated, fairly talented operative capable of getting positive results from time to time. Not opposed to planning and coordinating team-based operations, though mostly preferring to work alone in the field.
Truncated Summary of Previous Assignments
- Field Operative, MTF Gamma-6 "Deep Feeders" (MTF Dept.)
- Small Vessel Operator, Deckhand, Diver.
- Asst. Containment Technician - Trainee (Engineering & Technical Services Dept.)
- Short-term assignments to numerous marine Sites.
- Security Officer (Security Dept.)
- Alarm Monitor, Guard.
- Field Operative, MTF Mu-3 "Highest Bidders" (MTF Dept.)
- Fireteam Member, Thieves branch.
- MTF Pi-1 "City Slickers" (MTF Dept.)
- Ejected from squad during probationary training period.
- Agent, MTF Delta-88 "Local Legends" (MTF Dept.)
- Undercover Agent, Foundation local presence for River City.
Possible Linking Narrative
Events of 'Blood, Sweat, and Beers' tale spurs River City's chapter of Chaos Insurgency to seek revenge on whoever killed off their members. Misguidedly target MC&D via supposed member Mario Andetti, leading to the events of 'Tale 904'.
Fucking listen to me!! Chapman didn't throw himself in front of that train! And five guys from our chapter didn't all abandon the cause to up and disappear on the same damn night! Someone fucked up our plan, and fucked us up while doing it!! We won't just sit around with our thumbs up our asses until we get orders to pull them out. This is personal. We're going to find who's responsible for this. And when we do, the damage they caused will be like a massage parlour rubdown compared to what we do to them…
Protagonist
- Administrative assistant in front office of a Safe Item Storage Facility.
- Level 0 Security Clearance
- Believes she works for some kind of high-value-item storage facility.
- Believes this is the reason for the major security presence at site.
- Believes client privacy and confidentiality is the reason she handles documents so heavily censored.
Well, there's a contingency plan. So you have a back-up.
But what if the back-up fails?
That's why, for [REDACTED] they always have 'triple-contingency' plans.
Yeah, but what if that back-up fails?
So… If your first stage, which should already be well-maintained in prime condition if you're doing [REDACTED] fails. And your back-up system, which if you do use it should only be used to proceed directly to [REDACTED] and get out, fails within the time it takes to get there. And then your triple-contingency third back-up fails while you still haven't gotten out of there yet? You're saying "what then?"
Yeah.
Well I guess then you fuckin' die! I dunno!
Not good enough! You should use a quadruple-contingency plan.
… Then what if that fails?
You're right!
Oh no….
We need, like, a "Double-Triple-Contingency Back-Up Plans In Case Of Emergency!!(or Addressing other Dangerous Hazards & Risks)" plan!
- SCP-1002-J
- Formerly: SCP-2x3C-BUP-ICE(oAoDH&R)-J =+=+= "The Redundant SCP of Redundancy in Procedures of Containm"
* A note from Dr. X - "Please eliminate redundant statements from your reports on this subject whenever possible, in an effort to keep this item's log of reports free of unneccessary redundancy. - Dr X. [signed 'Dr. X.']" (Notice notnotice Note Observe that Dr. X's signature appears at the bottom of the note?)
* A follow-up memo from Dr. X. "Re: The previous message (the memo from Dr. X (me), sent immediately prior to this correspondence, regarding the reduction of redundancy in reports on SCP-2x3C-BUP-ICE(oAoDH&R)-J) describing Dr. X's (my) request to all staff that they make an effort towards the reduction of redundancy in any paperwork being filed on SCP-2x3C-BUP-ICE(oAoDH&R)-J. In regards to that memo, and the policy described within it, Dr. X (I) would like to make it clear that this practice of maintaining our efforts to eliminate redundancy from all files regarding this subject will become an on-going part of the subject's containment procedures. Although this policy should adequately suit the conditions of the situation as it presently exists, the mandates will be reviewed bi-weekly (every two weeks) by Researcher Williams and Researcher Lincoln, on alternating weeks so that one of them conducts the review each week. The one of the two that is not responsible for performing the procedural review that week will read and verify the other's report when it is completed. This information can all be found in the Special Containment Procedures of this file (SCP-2x3C-BUP-ICE(oAoDH&R)-J) <link to itself? haha> - Signed, Dr. X. [signed 'Signed Dr. X.']" (Observe that Dr. X's signature appears at the bottom of the page, following the word 'Signed' which also appears to have been hand-written by Dr. X.)
* [XXContinue]
- Final note from Sr. Researcher Grimes. "Dr X was determined to have been severely affected by SCP-1002-J (formerly SCP-2x3C-BUP-ICE(oAoDH&R)-J). Amnestic treatment has proven effective in relieving him of the effects, and the item has been contained securely in Safe Item Storage. However, I feel I must restate the basic point of my officially submitted 'Motion to Decommission Anomaly' form; that is, that this item should simply be destroyed. After all, keeping it around just seems so… I can't think of the word for it. - Dr. Grimes"
Item #: SCP-BUP-ICE(oAODH&R)-J
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: The object should be placed in a standard Safe-Object storage locker, and is not to be removed except for testing purposes. All personnel assigned to SCP-BUP-ICE(oAODH&R)-J are advised that these procedures are adequate, and do not need to be reviewed or updated any further.
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-BUP-ICE(oAODH&R)-J must be wrapped in a soft white cloth, then sealed in a plastic bag, then placed inside a wooden box, which is then contained within a standard Safe-Object Storage Locker. No fewer than three (3) guards are to monitor the locker at any time the object is stored within.
These containment procedures are to be reviewed each week, on a rotating schedule, by Researcher Williams or Researcher Lincoln. Of the two researchers (Williams or Lincoln), the one that does not conduct that week's review of the procedures is responsible for reviewing the other's review of the procedures for that week, and verifying that the weekly review of the containment procedures has been completed for the week.
Description: SCP-BUP-ICE(oAODH&R)-J is a round, sphere-shaped ball. It is red in colour, and has a diameter of 7 cm (70 mm) measured horizontally, vertically, and on any other axis. Its surface is made of an unidentified material.
Addendum-1: A note from Dr. X.
Please eliminate redundant statements from your reports on this object whenever possible, in an effort to keep this item's log of reports free of unnecessary redundancy. - Dr X. [signed 'Dr. X.']
Addendum-2: A note from Dr. X, regarding the previous note from Dr. X.
Re: The previous message (the memo from Dr. X (me), sent immediately prior to this correspondence, regarding the reduction of redundancy in reports on SCP-2x3C-BUP-ICE(oAoDH&R)-J) describing my (Dr. X's) request to all staff that they make an effort towards the reduction of redundancy in any paperwork being filed on SCP-2x3C-BUP-ICE(oAoDH&R)-J.
In regards to that memo, and the policy described within it, I (Dr. X) would like to make it clear that this practice of maintaining our efforts to eliminate redundancy from all files regarding this object, and its containment procedures, will be an on-going part of the protocols when drafting any documents which relate to the object.
Ideas
- A scheme where D-class prisoners have a way they can get out of Foundation custody. Like a myth or legend.
- It must be limited: The opportunity only exists at a certain Site. Only one person can get out at a time. Requires help from someone that will stay behind in custody. Can't let more than one person in on it, too risky.
- Hence, a system that involves one D-class, who helped the last guy escape, recruits a new D to teach the scheme to and use their help to escape. In exchange, this Dee gets the knowledge that can help them escape next. So it passes on…
- Master can't reveal the last detail of the plan to their apprentice until they are about to escape. Otherwise the apprentice may get greedy, try to escape on their own, ruin everything!
- Can the apprentice trust the master? They say it worked for the guy that taught it to them, that its worked every time before that… But what if it's made up? Maybe this guy has a plan to escape, and maybe it does involve help from an accomplice… But it could be a single opportunity that won't come up again. It could be a plan that involves throwing him to the wolves to make good their own escape.
- (Fuck! Good tension builder, that trust issues bit… Probably tell story from "apprentice's" POV, to get maximum effect)
—-
Hurdles to address…
- The Foundation would *never* be so incompetent as to let this happen, ever, even once, let alone leave this gap continuously open
- Thats why its a major secret! This window of escape exists at only one site (of the Foundation's hundreds) and within that site, only two D-classes would know about it at any one time. There's a decent enough cover-up built into the plan that one D-class isn't immediately missed, and can disappear in a shuffle of paperwork.
- Maybe the gap in security doesn't really exist? The Master is in fact just making up a story to secure The Apprentice's assistance?
- Aren't they amnesticized and re-assigned every month? How could any of them even remember this plan and pass it on?
- Tougher to overcome…. Amnestics not effective in 100% of the population? That isn't enough to let this scheme keep passing down from D to D over years.
- This site's location is extremely remote, transferring in new D-classes each month not deemed practical. Though then the site should definitely notice if any go missing…
- Some kind of assignment or testing protocol that would warrant the forgoing of monthly amnestic treatments. Procedures too complex to easily re-teach subjects on a monthly basis, amnestics not applied so as to retain ability/knowledge/experience.
- Okay, so just what is the escape plan?
- It's secret! I dunno yet, for sure. It has to make each of those 'challenge conditions' an essential part of it. Shit, this might be the hardest part to come up with, logistically… The lazy solution is probably that the plan never existed, Master lied to Apprentice. Having an actual plan, despite even Master not knowing what happens next (where does the tunnel come out
The Plan & Its Conditions
1
Limit: Opportunity only exists at Site-XX
Why?: Combination of conditions that make the plan possible
How: D-classes are not amnesticized and transferred on a monthly basis at this site. There is a physical means of escape (some kind of no-longer-used, forgotten-about maintenance tunnel or something). Filing system is outdated, susceptible to miscounting D-classes currently held on-site.
2
Limit: Only one person can escape at a time
Why?: Too suspicious if more than one is gone. One must remain behind for cover-up.
How: Obviously if all the D-classes didn't show up at morning role call one day, the site would be locked down and a security force would be mobilized to find and recapture them all. But, if someone knows what to do and is tricky enough, they can fill two spaces on the attendance records. They just have to slightly mess with the guards' record-keeping for just long enough that if the error is ever realized, it can't be pinpointed to either escapee.
3
Limit: Requires a second person, physically
Why?: Like, to boost the escapist up a ledge or something?
How: The Apprentice has to be involved right to the very final step. They need some leverage to ensure The Master holds up their end of the deal. And The Master must need The Apprentice for more than just the cover-up. They have to come with them all the way to the final step of the plan, to learn the final piece themselves (probably, like, the access hatch's location.)
4
Limit: Can't let more than one person in on it.
Why?: Maintaining secrecy. Also, just plain old paranoia.
How: "Three men can keep a secret, if two of them are dead." The Master, as he rightly should be, is very paranoid about the whole thing. If he let two people know of the plan, they might band together and escape without him. Just the process of selecting who his Apprentice will be is a long and carefully thought out decision, lest The Apprentice let out the secret before its done.
The Plan
(Loosely involves) An old maintenance tunnel, for some system that's no longer in use at that Site. The regular access door is sealed shut, but there is an air duct nearby that allows someone small and flexible enough to enter from a vent in a site corridor, and emerge in the abandoned tunnel. Near the far end of the tunnel is… Some kind of broken grate, high on the wall, that can be reached with a boost from another person. Beyond the grate is the area immediately outside the Site building. A small grassy field surrounded by a chain-link fence, with a wooded area beyond. But nobody who went through the grate has ever been seen brought back to the Site, so there's no facts on where the escapist goes from there.
Preparation steps:
- Limber up so squeezing through the vent isn't a problem. The Apprentice is chosen not only for qualities like discretion and secrecy, but also their physical size and ability. Squeezing around and under the bunks in the D-class dorms is considered good practice, though this must be done without catching too much attention from guards or other Ds.
- If Master or Apprentice need to be out of the dorms at night, only one can go. The other must be present in the dorm to fudge the guards' evening role call and cover up their partner's absence. This way, other Ds needn't be made aware of the pair's plotting.
- Acquire some contraband (extra goodies from the Site cafeteria, for example) to explain the Apprentice's absence (See 'Night of…' step 1)
- The secret step, where in the week leading up to the Night Of, the Master must be out of the dorms at night. He can't explain why to The Apprentice, but Apprentice must simply trust for now that Master can't escape without him, and every last detail will be explained on the night of.
- […?]
Night of the Escape:
- Tonight, Apprentice will enlist/bribe some other D-class to fudge the guards' evening role call to cover their absence. Claim to have a plan to get ahold some other contraband (acquired ahead of time, to explain the absence) as the reason for needing this favour.
- Together, the pair sneak to the corridor with the air vent. They have to do something about the camera monitoring that particular hallway…
- A very well-drawn sketch of the hall from the approximate POV of the camera, created by a long-gone user of this same plan and handed down from Master to Apprentice after each escape. Use a paperclip and chewing gum all MacGyver-style to fix it to the front of the security camera.
- Seems silly; but it only needs to look, at a glance, like the empty hallway to the guard watching all the screens in the control room. It should only need to be in place for 10-15 minutes at the most, before The Apprentice re-emerges from the vent and recollects the picture.
- The pair pry the vent cover off and squeeze into the tunnel hallway, pulling the cover back over the vent in case a patrol guard passes by in those minutes.
- They proceed to the broken grate, The Master explains the Secret Final Step ("I came here each night to put some of this peanut butter here by the grate. See, there are raccoons out there in those woods. And when they smell the peanut butter they want to come and get at it. They'll just dig their way under that fence and come on through! I gotta get to the other side of that fence, and with these little critters giving me a headstart I'll widen that gap enough to squeeze myself through in no time. Clever, huh? … Well, I thought so when the last guy explained it to me.") and reminds Apprentice not to fuck this whole thing up now; they say their final goodbyes, and Master follows a little raccoon to freedom in the darkness of night.
XXX
Ideas
- Possibly tell two stories, or one story from two POVs (a D-class and a Security Officer) Otherwise, focus on the Sec-Team as the protagonists, Ds as antagonists
- A group of D-classes are being transported to a facility for testing purposes. An opportunity arises (maybe related to an actual SCP containment breach) for the Ds to escape.
- Ds seize opportunity to escape. Transport Team must regain custody of their prisoners
- Setting: either remote wilderness or near civilization
Wilderness - Plays out like an episode of ManTracker. But the security team consists of just average guards, desperate to redeem their fuck-up. And the Ds would have minimal equipment/means to survive, but are desperate for freedom.
Urban - More like a spy thriller. Ds will be prevented from turning to public for help (Foundation to release cover story to local public, possibly about a prison escape) But Sec-Team must also keep their actions low-key to avoid attention from local authorities and the general public.
Rural - Something like a combination of the two. Near the edge of a city or outside a small town. Probably best, logistically. Some risk of public exposure, but within Sec-Team's ability to contain.
- Maybe no support from Foundation itself for Sec-Team. Maybe they're operating off-the-books to cover up their mistake before it becomes known. Then maybe they go to extreme measures to bury the situation entirely.
- Create operation plan. Decide where and how this plan goes wrong, so that it's an interesting event.
- Lay story out through series of documents? Original mission details, after-action reports from different personnel, interview logs, etc.
Operation Details
Objective
Transport 20 D-class subjects, arriving from Containment Facility ████ via ██████ Airfield, to Site-██ for standard testing purposes.
Personnel
<Tac. Sec. Div. (CBR)> Section - Kilo, consisting of:
* Tactical Division Lt. M█████ (Squad Leader)
* Tactical Division Sgt. H██████ (Squad 2iC)
* 12 Tactical Division Guards
Divided into 3 fireteams (4 guards/ea) and 1 command team (SL and SL-2)
Armament and Equipment
All personnel will be armed to MTF (Small Arms) standards. Each fireteam will also contain one member equipped with a battery of less-lethal armaments.
Unit will be granted use of the following vehicles:
* 1 minibus (modified for prisoner transit)
* 3 SUV escort vehicles (EVs)
Assignments and Designations
EV-1 - FireTeam: Kangaroo-1
EV-2 - FireTeam: Kangaroo-2
TV - FireTeam: Kangaroo-3
EV-C - Command Team: Kangaroo-Actual (SL, SL-2, and one member of FT-3)
Operational Procedures
Prior to pick-up: Arrive at ██████ Airfield 30 minutes prior to transit plane's ETA. All Kangaroo teams deploy in a defensive posture around vehicles. Stand by for arrival of transit plane.
Upon pick-up: Airfield security staff will process all cargo off the plane, and transfer custody of designated cargo to Kangaroo. Kangaroo-3 will be responsible for securing all cargo within storage area. Kangaroo-2 will be responsible for documentation (check ID tattoos against manifest, log all cargo) as well as assisting with securing of cargo. Kangaroo-1 will maintain defensive posture.
In transit: Kangaroo-1 (EV-1) will take lead position in convoy, followed by Kangaroo-3 (TV), followed by Kangaroo-Actual (EV-C), followed by Kangaroo-2 (EV-2) at rear of procession. All vehicles to follow designated route, maintaining consistent speed and seperation.
Delivery: All vehicles to enter underground garage at Site-██ and proceed to Parking Bay A. Kangaroo-1 will take responsibility for unloading cargo at destination, with assistance from Site-██ Guard Division. Kangaroo-2 will be on hand to verify documentation. Kangaroo-3 will begin the process of returning EVs to vehicle pool, and regroup with unit for debriefing. Once all cargo has been placed in custody of Site-██ Guard Division and all vehicles are returned to vehicle pool, unit is to gather at Parking Bay A and await dismissal.
Tactical Security Unit: Kilo
Callsign: Kangaroo
Kangaroo (Command Team)
- Brad Miller (Lieutenant, Containment Breach Response Branch, Tactical Division)
- Ian Hawkins (Sergeant, CBR Branch, Tac. Div.)
Kangaroo-1
- Ed Malone (FTL)
- Brandon Peters
- Austin Grant
- Ronald Lawrence
Kangaroo-2
- Kate Evans (FTL)
- Edgar Vasquez
- Dana Sherman
- Carlton Stone
Kangaroo-3
- Ben Fuller (FTL)
- Arthur Knight
- Tommy Maldonado
- Alyssa Bass
A huge underground mega-prison-style facility, where a majority of D-Class activities take place.
- Processing incoming D-Class applicants
- Maintaining the population of currently unassigned D-Class personnel
- Responding to and filling Sites' requisitions for D-Class personnel
Orientation tale for a guard newly assigned to Site-406, a D-Class Central Holding Facility.
The Facility
A sprawling underground complex, with most of it's space dedicated to housing D-Class personnel. On the surface the property is a warehouse facility isolated in the middle of a desert. This cover suits the high volume of transport trucks visiting the site.
The above-ground building consists of a large loading bay area, with rows of shelves stocked with boxes to maintain the appearance of a storage warehouse. The offices of the main building are mostly dedicated to the administrative duties of the site.
The first level of the underground structure is mainly occupied by the Security Dept. and high-level management. This includes the offices of the Site Director and Site Chief of Security, the main control room, and the site's armory. This level also contains the area for processing new D-Class applicants.
The second level of the underground structure is dedicated to housing the D-Class personnel themselves. It is divided into two wings; one for standard D-Class, and one for D-Class recruited under Protocol 12. The standard wing resembles a typical prison facility, while the P-12 wing is more like an enclosed mini-community.
Processing Incoming D-Class Applicants
New applicants to the Foundation's D-Class Program arrive at the facility by bus. They are offloaded and moved the Processing Sector's general waiting room. From here they are individually interviewed to verify details of their background and assess any skills or experience, which will be noted in their file. Their file is assigned a D-# and entered into the database, and the new D-Class is assigned a place in the Housing Sector.
Maintaining the Population of Unassigned D-Class Personnel
Mostly similar to operation of a typical prison. D-Class in the P-12 wing enjoy more liberties than those in the Convict wing, but are still limited to the Housing Sector of the Site.
Requisitions for D-Class Personnel
Foundation Sites must file paperwork to request allotment of D-Class personnel. These requests are generally made by Science Dept. for test subjects, or by Engineering & Technical Services Dept. for laborers to handle high-risk assignments. Some of these requests are for D-Class with specific background or qualifications (e.g: experiments requesting subjects of a specific nationality or heritage, technicians with welding abilities, etc.)
The administrative workers of the Site do their best to fill these requests with the D-Class they have available. They do this by cross-referencing the requested personnel with the files of D-Class currently held on-site.
Transportation of D-Class personnel is often done by semi-trucks with trailers modified for human transportation by installing rows of bench seats similar to coach buses.
Table 4 (Project Specific Worktable)
«3b filler»
Basic Plot Points
- Corrupt Sr Researcher and 1-2 accomplices (a 2nd Researcher, and a guard in Technical Division) selling Foundation data (hidden fact 1)
- Has killed at least one person (former accomplice intending to blow the whistle on the scheme) on-site who came close to exposing them (hidden fact 2)
- An item arrives on-site to be researched/contained (basic fact)
- Testing shows that this item's properties would reveal the cover-up murder (hint at h.f.2)
- A second murder (Davis) takes place in covering this up (hidden fact 2.5/hint at hidden facts)
- The scip's procedures are altered to indicate being dangerous to users. Testing halted. (hint at h.f.1)
How to tie facts to hints/clues
- Corrupt researcher(s)
- One specific researcher listed to receive all permission requests and notifications on item.
- All description/addenda describing this item's hazards are tracable to said researcher.
- Murder #1
- Testing of item. Logs must begin to build-up to reveal, but experiments put in hands of Dr.Krupt and halted before murder exposed
- Possibly discovered later, by incidental means
- Murder #2
- Researcher transferred onto project during initial testing.
- Researcher is suddenly absent from testing without explanation.
- File alteration
- Factual inconsistencies that kinda stick out, but are not too jarring to readers.
- Description of dangerous effects based on fabricated or nonexistent supporting evidence from testing logs (some D-class reported something, but they were transferred to a different assignment and are… dead now or something)
- Corrupted data?
- Supporting tales!
- Rudy Barnes and the Book of Davis (rewrite it like a normal story. Or go full play-script/screenplay style?)
- Rudy Follows Up (?)
- Davis' journal itself (?)
- Hoover Taps Davis for Info (?)
- A story about Hoover's Investigation (?)
Experiment logs
Each to include: Date, Researchers present, Data, Comments.
- Reveals basic initial effects. Not much more.
- A round of testing happens to reveal a trail which leads outside of testing area. Permission requested to test item in locations outside of designated labs (pending)
- Permission to test outside of labs approved. D-classes not authorized for these tests, due to concerns of escape attempts. As previous tests have not revealed any harmful effects in users, junior researchers are authorized to use the item in these experiments.
- Sr. Researcher Dr.Krupt becomes aware of tests being conducted outside of standard practices. Places himself (and his accomplice in research) as the main handlers on this item. Still must keep a junior on the project, as experienced researchers are still not cleared to handle the item themselves.
- Begin injecting the idea that the item has negatively affected past users (factually unconfirmable)
- Junior researcher now absent (without explanation) from listed experimenters
- (Just as it looked like this line of testing was going to pay off) testing halted by order of Dr.Krupt. Item must be locked away and left alone. The end (of experiment logs)
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX is to be kept in a Safe Item Storage Locker at Site-64. Any interactions with the object must be approved by Senior Researcher Dr. Krupt.
Description: [Paragraphs explaining the description]
Addendum-1: Experiment Logs
Addendum-2: [Addenda]
Experiment Logs
Test XXXX-01
Date: ██-██-20██
Researchers: E. Hill, S. Snyder
Subject: D-41138
Procedure: SCP-XXXX will be placed on a table in the lab. Subject will attempt to use the object. Test intended to evaluate the object's basic properties.
Results: D-41138 picked up SCP-XXXX and used it to examine the table's surface. The object was described as having typical properties of magnification, although anything viewed through the lens appeared 'in black and white'.
Comments: "Not very impressive, really. There must be more to this thing though, or it wouldn't be here. Right?" - Dr. Snyder
Test XXXX-02
Date: ██-██-20██
Researchers: E. Hill, S. Snyder
Subject: D-41138
Procedure: Subject will attempt to use SCP-XXXX to examine samples of print media. Test intended to explore further anomalous properties of the object.
Results: Subject analyzed multiple instances of newspaper, magazines, and literature (fiction and non-fiction). No effects other than those previously described were recorded.
Comments: None.
Test XXXX-05
Date: ██-██-20██
Researchers: E. Hill, S. Snyder, L. Davis (R-Jr.)
Subject: D-54914
Procedure: Subject will attempt to use SCP-XXXX to examine samples of legal documents (screened and approved for testing purposes). Test intended to explore further anomalous properties of the object, if any.
Results: Subject analyzed multiple instances of contracts, waivers, and other legal paperwork. No effects other than those previously described were recorded.
Comments: "As we were storing the object after experimenting D-54914 claimed she saw, through the object's lens, something on the floor in the hallway. She described a series of shoe prints, which were invisible to the naked eye. I have requested permission to look into this further." - Dr. Hill
Test XXXX-06
Date: ██-██-20██
Researchers: E. Hill, S. Snyder, L. Davis (R-Jr.)
Subject: D-54914
Procedure: Subject will use SCP-XXXX to examine the corridor of Testing Labs A-Wing. The researchers and test subject will be accompanied by two security officers for the duration of the experiment. Test is intended to follow up on previous, unofficially recorded observations.
Results: Subject observed the same trail of shoe prints they mentioned at the conclusion of Test XXXX-05. They described the shoe prints (designated XXXX-1) as appearing to be made by an average sized men's dress shoe, with no visible treadmarks.
Following the trail revealed a path that seemed to traverse the halls of the Testing Labs several times. As testing was only approved for A-Wing, the experiment was concluded at this point.
Comments: "I think it's obvious what we're seeing are the footsteps of some Foundation staff member. Whats not so obvious is just who it is, though. Or why them." - Dr. Snyder
"Analyzing the mapped out tracks, I found that there seems to be the same number of trails coming into and out of the Testing Labs! Our mystery path must start (and end) outside those doors." - Jr. Researcher Davis
"Clever kid. Request to take this testing outside of the labs has been submitted." - Dr. Hill
Test XXXX-07
Date: ██-██-20██
Researchers: E. Hill, S. Snyder
Subject: L. Davis (R-Jr.)
Subj. Note: A D-class subject has not been assigned to this experiment, due to risk of escape attempts. As previous experiments have revealed no adverse effects, a Foundation Junior Researcher has been cleared to use the object.
Procedure: Subject will use SCP-XXXX to attempt to discover SCP-XXXX-1's point of origin or termination. This experiment will still be limited to within Site-64
Results: Beyond the doors of the Testing Labs, subject reports eight discernible instances of SCP-XXXX-1 (four sets coming to, four going from). Two of these paired trails were determined to travel to a staff breakroom, and one to the site's cafeteria, before returning to the lab's doors.
The final pair of tracks lead to the Staff Personal Lockers (which specific locker, if any, is indeterminate) before they diverge. The trail coming into the site is a direct route from the front doors of Site-64's entrance lobby. The trail leading off site initially follows the same route, but appears to suddenly change direction and leave the premises via an emergency exit in a stairwell. The experiment was concluded at this point.
Comments: "Now we need to secure permission to use the item off-site. I wonder how far along our project would be without all this paperwork and red tape… Request for next experiment pending." - Dr. Hill
"Sorry, to everyone in the upper levels, for the unscheduled fire drill." - Dr. Snyder
Test XXXX-08
Date: ██-██-20██
Researchers: D. Krupt (R-Sr.), <…>
Subject: L. Davis (R-Jr.)
Procedure: Subject will use SCP-XXXX to further pursue the origin or termination point of SCP-XXXX-1. Sr. Researcher Krupt will be present for executive decision-making.
Results: Subject followed SCP-XXXX-1 from the emergency exit to a pedestrian walkway providing access to the second level of the multi-storey parking garage across the street from Site-64. SCP-XXXX-1 terminates inside the parking garage.
From the front doors of Site-64, subject tracked SCP-XXXX-1 at street-level for approximately two city blocks, before descending into the ████████ subway station. Citing concerns of public curiosity, Dr. Krupt concluded the experiment at this point.
Comments: "'Public curiosity?' On the subway system in this city? Even if we were running around wearing our lab coats and testing SCP-████, 90% of those folks have probably seen and ignored something even weirder that same day." - Jr. Researcher Davis
"Davis, please keep your commentary relevant to the collected data. This is your notice." - Dr. Krupt (R-Sr.)
Test XXXX-09
Date: ██-██-20██
Researchers: D. Krupt, <…>
Subject: D-50010
Procedure: <…>
Results: <…>
Comments: <…>
Test XXXX-12
Date: ██-██-20██
Researchers: <…><…>
Subject: popo
Procedure: <…>
Results: <…>
Comments: <…>
Scene - Staff Personal Locker Room at Site-XX. Security Officer Barnes is standing in front of his open locker, preparing to head home after his shift. Researcher Prado enters and walks down the row of lockers, reading the name plates affixed over each. His pace slows as he approaches the end of the row, passing Barnes then pausing and turning to address him.
Prado: Hey, Barnesey. You seen Davis around lately?
Barnes: Eh?
P: Junior Researcher Davis. Just got to the site a couple months back? I thought his locker was over around here…
B: Ah. Hmm… I haven't really seen anyone using those lockers lately, I don't think.
P: Oh? Huh. Weird…
B: … Well, what's up?
P: Right, yeah I found this <holds up a notebook> sitting in one of the break rooms. I think it's, like, Davis' journal or something? Was just gonna leave it at his locker for him, but…
B: But you can't find it. Right. Well here, I can drop it at the front security office on my way out. Jerry can page this Davis kid to come collect it there.
P: <Handing the book over> Fine by me. I've got a major backlog of work to dig into anyway. See ya 'round.
<Prado turns and leaves. Barnes sets the book next on top of his personal bag and turns back to his locker.>
Scene - Street-level lobby of Site-XX. Barnes emerges from the elevator and crosses over to the security station where Security Officer Santiago is behind the counter.
Barnes: Luis! What are you doing back there still?
Santiago: Don't even start. Jerry's running late, and I'm stuck covering for him.
B: Jeez… And he ain't caught shit for all these lates yet?
S: <shrugs> Eh, what am I gonna do? Guy's on the Director's 'Nice List', isn't he? But I'll tell you something else; I don't care if he walks through those doors right fuckin' now, I'm logging that I was here until 9.
B: Haha! I'll keep that between you and me, Lou. <begins to walk away> Oh, hey! Before I forget… <returns to place Davis' notebook on the counter> This, apparently, belongs to a researcher named… Davis, yeah. Maybe get him come pick it up here, kay?
S: Right! Because it's not like I'm already doing someone else's work while they're off doing whatever they fuckin' like-
B: <interrupting> Yeah, yeah yeah! I just figured that since you'll be here till 9 o'clock anyways… <grinning>
<The phone behind the desk starts ringing>
S: Ha ha! Fuuuck yooouu Barnes!! <laughs and waves goodbye with one finger as Barnes exits the lobby onto the street. Santiago then turns his attention to the ringing phone.>
Scene: Street-level lobby of Site-XX, the next morning. Barnes, returning for the day's shift, enters the front doors and makes his way to the security station. Security Officer Terrence is seated behind the counter, reading a newspaper.
Barnes: Jerry-Terry!! How goes it this morning for ya?
Terrence: Oh, can't complain. How's by you?
B: Eh, another day an- <notices Davis' notebook sitting behind the counter on the work surface> Hey. Davis didn't come get his thing?
T: What?
B: <pointing at the notebook> That book there. It belongs to a Researcher Davis, apparently. Luis didn't say anything about it when you came on last night?
T: Well he was in a bit of a rush to take off last night, I think.
B: Yeah well you need to set your watch forward a bit, I think.
T: Ahh, come on…
B: How about just do some work right now, huh? Page Davis to come to the front and pick up his journal. <Barnes walks toward the elevator>
T: Yeah, thats no problem.
<The elevator doors close behind Barnes. Terrence scrawls 'DAVIS' on a slip of paper and tapes it onto the notebook, then picks up the phone and dials an extension.>
Scene: Street-level lobby of Site-XX. A couple hours after SO Barnes has begun his shift, his rounds bring him back past lobby security station. SO Santiago is behind the counter, transferring data from a clipboard on the work surface to a spreadsheet on the computer screen.
Barnes: <Sees Davis' notebook, with 'DAVIS' note attached, still in the same place behind the counter> <sighs> … fuckin' kidding me?
Santiago: <looking up from the clipboard> Hm? Oh, hey Barnes-
B: <more to himself than Santiago> I told him hours ago "Have Davis come get his fuckin' book already" and I come back to see-
S: Huh? No nah, Rudy, look man. Jer left a note here: said he paged it out, Davis never showed up to collect. <flipping through pages of handwritten notes on another clipboard sitting behind the counter> I think some other researcher was gonna come around for it…?
B: <Not really listening to Santiago> <sigh> Want something to get done around this site… <snatches the book from the counter and marches toward the nearest stairwell> Gotta do it your fuckin' self!
S: <calling after Barnes> Hey, wait up a sec!
<Barnes ignores Santiago and storms off down the stairs>
Scene: A security office in another wing of the facility. Barnes is seated at a computer terminal, accessing the Site's personnel database. The basic profile of one 'Junior Researcher Davis' is open on the screen. He writes a few things in his SO's notepad, before logging off.
Scene: Site-XX Staff Personal Locker Room. SO Barnes and SO Santiago are each at their respective lockers, preparing to leave at the end of their shifts. Barnes is currently explaining where he's at with this personal quest to find Davis.
Barnes: … says he's transferred back out already.
Santiago: To another site? Huh, didn't stick around for long.
B: Yeah, no kidding right? But somebody must have screwed up on the paperwork somewhere, entered this Site number under his Forwarding Site. So I can't just put it in the system or it'll re-route back to here.
S: Huh…
B: I did dig a bit deeper though, <Barnes' hand instinctively reaches toward his breast pocket, but his notepad is in his uniform shirt> Tsk.. His last supervisor was a Researcher… Something with a C? Or an S..? Anyway, he's senior staff so I can't just waltz down into the labs with my Level-2 clearance like 'Oh hi there! I'm just running some trivial bullshit errand for your dummy FNG who can't even fill out a Site-Transfer Form properly.'
S: Heheh, I guess not, eh? Well, give it to Sgt. Clark. He might cross paths with this nerd in the basement, y'know?
B: Are you fuckin' kidding me!? Do you know what the brass in our branch is dealing with right now?
S: <blank look> Ehh…?
B: Well, I guess we haven't been filled in, specifically… But look at the memos that have been going around. I think they're suspecting a data leak somewhere in this site, man. Something bad, for sure.
S: <low whistle> Fuck..
B: Fuck. Right. So no, I'm not going to bring this to Clark either. … <sigh>
S: Well shit man!! Whats in the damn thing that's so important to Davis anyway?
<Barnes is silent for a beat. Santiago looks over to Barnes for the answer. Barnes' face shows he doesn't have one.>
S: You didn't even READ it!?!? <laughing>
B: Well, … it might be a personal journal or something. Didn't seem right, I guess?
S: <still laughing> Shit man!! I thought you used to be a detective before workin' here? Hahaha!
<Barnes is now pensive, staring at the journal as it sits on the bench beside his personal bag>
S: Hey, enough of a detective to recognize Internal I is probably coming to play 'whack-a-mole' here at our site, right? Even if we're being fuckin' kept in the dark about it…
<Santiago closes up his locker and picks up his personal things>
S: Anyway… I'll see you at 'Social', huh? <laughing as he heads to the exit>
B: .. Yeah… <finally tunes back in> Yeah, yeah! First round's on me, bud.
<Barnes is now alone in the locker room. He glances around, then stuffs the notebook into a pocket of personal bag and takes it with him>
Footnote: The reference to 'Social' is a running inside joke between Barnes and Santiago, that they meet at a bar called 'Social Cocktail Pub'. This is in light of a site-specific policy that personnel not fraternize with each other outside of work.
Scene: Barnes clears some clutter from a table in his apartment. He sets the book on the table, next to a short glass with ice cubes, a can of lemon-lime soda, and a 750ml bottle of vodka (filled to approx. half)
<Barnes sits in a chair, pours the vodka over the ice, and opens the journal to the front page>
Barnes: <Upon seeing the first entry dated over a year ago, and the following entry dated nearly a month after that> Not very prolific, are we Davis? <Barnes takes a sip from his glass and chases it with a sip from the can, then flips forward to the last of the entries. These are dated to a few months ago and are, mostly, written just days apart.> Mmm, that's more like it…
<Barnes turns back a few pages and starts to read the relevant journal entries> (This could link to the journal, even. If that gets written…)
<Hours later. The table now holds: a 750ml bottle of vodka (near empty), a glass with a layer of melted ice and vodka sitting in the bottom, several empty popcans, and a pad of paper with its front page full of handwritten notes by Barnes. He closes Davis' notebook and glances at his own compiled notes, then simply stares at the wall across from him>
B: .. ffuuuuck…
<Barnes, without taking his eyes off the spot on the wall, goes to drink from the glass. Finding it empty, he turns his attention to the near-empty bottle. He glances at the clock, to see if there's time yet to go pick up another before the store is closed.>
B: Fuck!
<There isn't.>
Ideas
- What did the journal actually reveal to Barnes?
- Davis' personal thoughts on his time at Site-64
- Davis' description of Krupt basically sabotaging the research
- Davis' interactions with Hoover
- Last entry: Davis was nervous he'd be receiving disciplinary action, but his scheduled meeting with Dr. Krupt was actually a positive performance review. Krupt say something like 'Sorry if we got off on the wrong foot. How about I buy you lunch/dinner?' Davis indicates he will be going to this meeting shortly. End of journal.
- What will he do with this information now?
- Gotta follow up on this info, but cautiously.
- Goes about speaking to Davis' supervising researchers, Hill and Snyder.
- Hill and Snyder both a little confused by their sudden re-assignment from SCP-XXXX, but these things do happen.
- Both describe Davis as a smart researcher and all-around good guy. No, neither have worked with him at all since those experiments.
- Speaks to Hoover (if possible, depends on timeline)
- Hoover has been amnesticized. Doesn't remember Davis at all.
- Must have Krupt pegged as suspicious by now.
Attempt re-write.
Security Officer Barnes stood at his personal locker at the end of his shift.
Karakaigara's interview (BM23 Remix)
Foreword: A containment breach involving SCP-XXXX took place at Site-64. The object was removed from its storage locker by Security Officer Hoover without authorization. SO Hoover was apprehended by security personnel while attempting to leaving the Site. The transcript of his subsequent interrogation, as carried out by Dr. █████, is displayed below.
<Begin log>
Hoover: This is bullshit! I'm onto something serious, and you're wasting time interrogating me!?
Dr. █████: Settle down, please. You know that what you did is a violation of our most basic principles. You must be aware that this interview is essential to-
H: Interview? Don't try and play friendly with me, we both know what this is…
█: Alright then. … Officer Hoover, please explain your actions as they relate to the incident in question.
H: I had to get th-!
<SO Hoover suddenly becomes more withdrawn>
H: Look… There's something going on here, ok? Its bad.
█: Mm-hmm..
<An audible 'click' sound from near the microphone>
█: Alright, James. Tape's off. Just you and me. … What are you seeing?
H: <deep breath> Ok… Since I first got here I've smelt something fishy. There wasn't any one thing I could put my finger on, at first… Hell, maybe there still isn't… But what's happened these past few days hasn't done anything to put me at ease.
█: Well, perhaps you should start from the beginning.
H: I-… I can't say how. All I can say is I know someone here has been breaking the rules. But now I think it's something even worse. They aren't just hurting The Foundation, they're hurting people here on site!
█: Now, I'd really expect you to-
H: Not D-classes! I'm not talking about tests, damnit!! Someone here is preying on the staff. As soon as I walk out these doors, I could be next.
█: Officer Hoover. These are very serious accusations to be levelling at your co-workers. I certainly hope you have evidence to support these claims.
H: That's just it! That's why I needed the glass!!
█: What is the connection with SCP-XXXX?
H: It was Davis who told me about his work with the object. One week they're making good progress, the next all the work gets re-assigned and comes to a standstill. And then suddenly Davis himself stops showing up?
█: Testing hits dead ends, researchers get transferred… These are common occurrences in our field. … Having seen quite a few Site transfers yourself, I'd expect you to be familiar with the routine.
H: I am. And unless it's for some kind of urgent situation, there's advance notice given. Davis didn't say a word about a transfer, just here one day and gone the next…
█: <sigh> Davis was transferred for disciplinary reasons. Perhaps that explains why he didn't share that information with you. Now, if you would explain how SCP-XXXX relates to this incident..?
H: It's those footprints! They've got to be the key to figuring out what's happening here. Did you know there are two sets now? Not just one. And nobody here is even trying to find the answers to-
█: Shut up! Just shut your mouth. You don't know a damn thing about how the Science Department operates. You know nothing about the challenges us researchers face… You're just a security officer! Just a- a frickin' goon!
H: … You son of a-
<Dr. █████ terminated the interview at this point, claiming Hoover was becoming aggressive and threatening. Security personnel, on orders from Dr. █████, subdued SO Hoover and placed him in Site-64's E-Class holding cells.>
Following this interview Dr. █████ consulted with Dr. Krupt. It was determined that SCP-XXXX may have a mental effect on those who have used the object, causing delusional paranoia. SO Hoover was prescribed amnestic treatment in Site-64's medical clinic, which appeared to be effective in treating his condition.
(Dr. █████ should try to coax all the info Hoover has out of him carefully. Feigning concern; while really assessing how many pieces of the puzzle H has, and how close he is to putting any of them together.)
- Needing to better pin down in reality: 1) the actual facts that H is reporting <See Davis and Hoover> 2) the doctor's attempts at explaining away the suspicions 3) Where and how the file itself is altered, to cover what the doctor couldn't convincingly explain away in the moment.
- After the real facts (1) are established, consider how the doctor might explain them in order to get Hoover off the trail (2). Consider that Dr is at a disadvantage, as he's trying to think on the spot. He may slip up, contradict himself, and backpedal slightly at times (this is good at presenting him as a liar to the audience) but it can't ever be so big a slip that Hoover would call him out for it on the spot.
- Delicately balance that [A]- any and all apparent inconsistencies in the dialogue can be traced to one of those causes, but [B]- present it subtly so Hoover doesn't look like a sap, and so this cover-up wouldn't be obvious to any other Foundation personnel that might read the file.
Davis and Hoover
- Davis mentions to Hoover a weird thing thats been going on with his current project. Things seemed to be going really well, then suddenly his original supervising researchers were pulled off the project, replaced with Sr. Researcher Krupt himself. Davis would have been pulled too, but the experiments at this point required a Jr. to complete. Davis still felt like Krupt didn't even want him there. And then during the experiments, Krupt refused to pursue what seemed like obvious opportunities to learn something, and abruptly ended the experiment while dismissing the results as inconclusive.
- Hoover is actually an agent in the Internal Investigations Dept, sent undercover to Site-64 because there are, in fact, already suspicions of a data leak. Any evidence is extremely circumstantial, so Hoover is inserted into the Site's guard division simply to observe firsthand if any suspicious activity is occurring. Despite a strong hunch he's had since his arrival, this story from Davis is the closest thing to a real lead he's been able to dig up in his time there.
- Hoover, over time, elicits the details of the previous experiments from Davis. Hoover is attempting to determine who the trail belongs to, on a hunch that it may be relevant to his own investigation.
- Suddenly, Davis stops turning up at work. Hoover is now alarmed, thinking Davis' disappearance may be partly his fault, and that by asking about it his own cover could be compromised (if it isn't already). Not willing to quietly withdraw from the mission, or waste valuable time when things are this serious, he decides he must get ahold of SCP-XXXX and see what he can learn from it himself.
- Hoover gets the object out of storage and looks around the locker room, trying to determine if these footprints can be tied to one specific locker, and if so whose. While here he notices there's a second trail of footprints, which are now alongside the original set leading out to the stairwell emergency exit. In his haste to follow this new trail he goes out the emergency exit, triggering the alarm. This would be the point at which he is detained.
Table 5 (Next Thing)
Currently: Mu-3 Revival
MTF Mu-3, after the events of Operation: Free Market, was not disbanded; but officially instated at reduced scale. Given a fraction of the funding originally requested and a mandate to produce results, they struggle to fulfill their original purpose of infiltrating and monitoring MC&D.
Given the conceptual focus of independently executing operations, Mu-3's Commander Roger Dunn has authority to act with minimal oversight from the Director of MTF Division.
After the events of Operation: Free Market, specifically the death of undercover Agent Voss, other Foundation handlers refused to transfer their own UC operatives to Mu-3's Probes branch, and even became reluctant to share any details of their assets' dossiers.
In lieu of funding as provided by the Foundation, operatives are unofficially encouraged to procure monetary assets in the field.
Potential Ideas
SCP-1738
Tale of object recovery?
Some kind of standard-fare thriller with spies, double agents, and crafty intrigue..
Include/explore the logistics of how MC&D handles their human assets.
Explore the team dynamics within MTF Mu-3. Operatives transferring between branches, or the parts of the job where they overlap.
- Profilers: All-knowing orchestrators of action; or just lazy desk-jockeys hiding out in offices.
- Probes: Risking their lives in deep cover situations; or just posing as rich partying aristocrats.
- Thieves: The active element that gets things done; or just sneaky crooks.
[Throw-away Idea: Create a "What People Think I Do / What I Actually Do" meme for each branch?]
Misc. Notes
- Given the conceptual focus of independently executing operations, Mu-3's Commander Roger Dunn has authority to act with minimal oversight from the Director of MTF Division.
- In lieu of funding as provided by the Foundation, operatives are unofficially encouraged to procure monetary assets in the field.
- Members of Mu-3 are given pins with the MTF logo (a bidding paddle / hand reaching upward). Members of the Thieves branch traditionally wear these upside-down, as the imagery of reaching in and taking things is more in line with their style.
XXX
MTF [Greek letter]-[##] ("[Nickname]")
24 Letters in Greek Alphabet x 99 2-digit numbers = 2,376 possible combinations.
XXX
Table 6 ('Random Idea Generator' challenge?)
Ideas from SCP Random Idea Generator?
From SCP-RIG: An article about a football game that's anomalously obnoxious. The article should explore fascination.
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: [Typical measures to monitor warning signs of SCP-XXXX event occurring, and reduce public exposure.]
Description: SCP-XXXX is phenomenon which occurs at ████ ████ Park's public football field. During SCP-XXXX events, approximately 50 humanoids spontaneously emerge from the restroom facilities located next to the field, making up players and coaching staff for two amateur American football teams, and three referees. The two teams proceed to compete in a game of football, before returning to the restroom building and apparently de-manifesting.
Approximately 30 to 60 minutes before an occurrence of SCP-XXXX, the doors to each of the restrooms are sealed shut and entry becomes impossible. Audio recordings and personal observation indicate muffled sounds typical of an athletic locker room pre-game atmosphere, culminating in what is presumably a speech from the head coach and a team chant.
A SCP-XXXX event begins with the restroom doors opening and all humanoids manifested for the event (designated SCP-XXXX-A for all entities associated with "The Red Team", and SCP-XXXX-B for those associated with "The Blue Team". Referees designated SCP-XXXX-C) emerging from within. The space inside is not large enough to accommodate all instances, and it is unknown how they do it.
Of particular note is that many of the plays occurring during SCP-XXXX events employ highly unorthodox tactics, or are 'trick plays'. On offense these include reversal, or double-reversal running plays, long and complex receiver routes on passing plays, and 'psyche-out' plays (including false snaps and fake punt/field goal setups). On defense these may include stacked blitzes or unusual pass-coverage assignments.
Furthermore, celebrations after scoring or other key plays involve long and seemingly choreographed dance routines, or other celebratory acts.
At the conclusion of a SCP-XXXX event, all manifested entities return to their point of origin and vanish.
Addendum: It has been observed in more recent occurrences of SCP-XXXX that the 'trick plays' are becoming more complex and outlandish than originally observed, in some instances becoming impossibly absurd. From players displaying super-human abilities, to cartoonish antics (in one instance, a lead blocker was literally driving a truck through midfield).
Also of note is that a greater number of humanoid entities are appearing with each SCP-XXXX event that occurs, filling roles such as mascots and cheerleaders. These entities have also been observed to engage in acts ranging from typical to anomalous.
Addendum-2: Attempts to communicate with instances of SCP-XXXX-A and SCP-XXXX-B have been marginally successful, notably only for 'pre-game' and 'post-game' interviews. Instances of SCP-XXXX-C refuse to communicate with Foundation personnel.
From SCP-RIG: An article about a lecture during which the participants experience an anomalous desire to disappear. The article should convey dislocation.
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Safe/Euclid/Keter (indicate which class)
Special Containment Procedures: [Paragraphs explaining the procedures]
Description: ..
Addendum: [Optional additional paragraphs]
SCP-RIG: An article that explores zombies and life after death. The article should convey disquiet.
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Safe/Euclid/Keter (indicate which class)
Special Containment Procedures: [Paragraphs explaining the procedures]
Description:
Addendum: [Optional additional paragraphs]
SCP-RIG: An article about a chicken that mysteriously creates soup. The article should evoke pain.
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX is to be kept in a suitable small animal containment chamber. It has no requirements beyond that of a non-anomalous chicken.
Description: SCP-XXXX is a chicken (Gallus gallus domesticus). It is twice the size of a normal chicken, but otherwise average in appearance. SCP-XXXX's anomalous quality is that the eggs it lays (SCP-XXXX-1) are full of hot soup.
Instances of SCP-XXXX-1 are, in scale with SCP-XXXX, much larger than an average chicken's egg. Regardless of the length of time between the laying of an instance of SCP-XXXX-1 and cracking of its shell, the soup within will be approximately 90º C. The soup itself has no other anomalous qualities, and has been determined safe to eat.
SCP-XXXX-1 instances are otherwise unremarkable, and it is hypothesized that their anomalous condition manifests only upon opening the shell. Testing of multiple SCP-XXXX-1 samples has resulted in different styles of soup being produced, seemingly at random.
Addendum:
Table 7 (Nobody Gets Away)
Foundation Agent Moore rounds the corner in pursuit of a certain POI. He sees only Security Officers Garret and Cooper, standing sentry.
Moore: Which way did they go?
Cooper: What are you talkin' about?
Moore: The guy that just ran past here!
Garret: Nobody went by..
M: That's what I thought! Which way did they go?
C: We ain't seen nobody.
M: He just said Nobody went by here!
C: That's right.
M: But you didn't see him?
G: See who?
M: Nobody!
C: Nobody came by, we told ya already!
M: How do you know that then?
C: Because we been standing here for the past hour!
M: This was just a minute ago, coming around that corner.
G: What, you?
M: Not me, you idiot!
G: But nobody came around that corner before you did.
M: I know that! I was chasing them!
<Garret and Cooper exchange confused glances.>
C: Who are you chasing?
M: Nobody!
G: Then why are you running?
M: So they don't get away.
G: But nobody's getting away.
M: I know!!! Are you two going to help me, or just keep wasting my time?
G:
Table 8 (Nobody stuff)
800 Table
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|
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The freedom and ability to do anything,
the lack of drive or ambition to know what that should be.
The joys of solitude,
the sorrows of loneliness.
…
Table 9 (Tale Pieces)
XXX = XXX
Two of them… Just at the edge of the field, where the forest begins. No, there's a third. Hadn't noticed that one. All of them just making their way along the tree line, north to south. What are you up to..?
The beeping of the plastic digital timer sitting on the desk drew his attention away from the deer on the monitor screen. Security Officer Phil Casper shuffled his wheeled office chair over and, with a few taps, silenced the timer and reset it to go off in another hour. With one hand he readied his pen and notepad, while the other snatched the radio handset from its slot on the wall. Casually tapping the keyboard to wake up the computer, Phil Casper began his radio checks.
"Sentinel. Charlie-101. Control, radio check."
The radio crackled, "Control, Charlie-101. All good."
"Copy. Next check in one hour." Phil replied as he added a checkmark to his notepad. He continued down the list, "Sentinel. Charlie-102. Control, radio check."
A few moments passed before "Control, Charlie-102 checking in." came back from the speaker.
"Copy that, thanks. Next check in one." Another tic on the pad. Officer Casper was now absently typing the entries into the computer's data log as he carried on. "Sentinel. Charlie-103. Control, radio check."
No immediate response. Phil glanced up to find the deer were no longer visible on the monitor. Nothing had changed in any of the other live feeds. Come on 103… A minute passed before he moved on to complete his checks on 104, 105, and 106. All information dutifully recorded in the computer, he repeated his call to 103. Still no response.
Officer Casper sighed as he checked the clock. Two more minutes and this is officially a missed check-in. He shuffled through some loose papers scattered across the desk, finding the listing for tonight's assigned posts. Where are you tonight, 103? West Gate, okay. And who… is… near… by? His finger came to rest on 'C-105 - Cargo Loading Bay'. The clock was officially at ten minutes past the hour. Oh 103… Phil picked up the handset and hailed Charlie-105.
"Control, go ahead for 105." came the immediate reply.
"Yea, I got no check-in from 103 over at West Gate. Can you see him from where you're at?"
"Uhh, stand by." A few moments passed before 105 followed up with "Yyyeah, I see the gate. Doesn't look like anything's going on up there. Can't see into the guardhouse from here."
Casper considered the situation briefly. "105, can you head up there and check things out?"
"Alright, on my way."
Security Officer Casper replaced the handset in it's slot on the wall and positioned himself at the computer. The most recent entry in the log read 'No check from C-103'. He added on 'C-105 to investigate' and then leaned back and scanned the security monitors.
Security Officer Doug Fletcher stood just outside the open overhead doors, in the cool evening air. He was peering down the paved roadway to the guards' hut at the compound's West Gate when the handheld radio he was gripping asked "105, can you head up there and check things out?"
Fletcher groaned before responding, "Alright, on my way." He clipped the walkie-talkie high on his chest, then began the walk down the road to the gate.
Use of lethal force is authorized.
The words repeated in his head. His team had run the drills dozens of times; hustling from the staff dorm to the emergency briefing, to the armoury, to the parking bay. His actions were practically automatic. But it kept crossing his thoughts: the realization that tonight he might have to shoot down his colleagues.
XXX
Security Officer Thomas Parker filed into the briefing room. Within fifteen minutes of the page going out, all the on-call members of Site-88's Tactical Division were assembled before their Captain.
The Captain laid out the details: Containment breach. Site-121 locked down, no communications from inside for six hours now. A plan for a straight-forward assault to clear and re-secure the facility was presented. The soldiers had security clearance to access a heavily redacted version of the target object's SCP: [XXX]
XXX
"So then he tells the guy 'No! […]
Evan looked up from the disassembled GPS tracker on the canvass mat in front of him, meeting Brandon's expectant smile after what was, apparently, the punchline to a joke. He shook his head and went back to the pieces laid out in front of him, wondering what he'd ever done to deserve being assigned to this squad.
Security Officer Evan Hunt had been excited when he was promoted to a guard in Tactical Division. He would finally get to leave behind the boring hours of staring at a wall of storage lockers, endlessly circling the sterile hallways of site research wings, and explaining to dumb civilians (for the hundredth damn time) that this building is private property and nobody is allowed in without an appointment. He was excited for the advanced weapons and tactics training he would receive. He was excited for the prospect of being the first responder to a containment breach. He was excited for being on what was essentially the farm team for Mobile Task Force Division.
But a Storage Site full of Safe-class objects doesn't have much need for a Tactical Division. So the promotion had come with a transfer. That wasn't a big deal for Evan. In fact he preferred the larger facility, and being more isolated from the public. The weather was nicer too.
Evan fell in with a few of the guys in Guard Division at his new Site, maybe because until recently he had been one of them. Being new to Tactical Division, he hadn't expected to be placed on the same squad as the 'top dogs'. But the reactions he got from his new colleagues (cringes, amused laughter, or some combination of both) when he told them he would be on Kilo Squad were his first hint that maybe this promotion wasn't the dream gig he was expecting.
Evan tightened the last screw on the plastic casing and tried to turn on the GPS tracker. Brandon pushed himself off the SUV he'd been leaning on and stood over him, looking down at the display screen expectantly. Evan pressed the power button a couple more times, to no avail. He turned it over and began unscrewing the case again. Brandon sighed and returned to the SUV. Sitting in the passenger seat and facing out with the door open, he drank from his canteen and watched Evan continue to try and fix his equipment.
"Hey man, have you ever-"
Before Brandon finished his question he was interrupted by the radio in the vehicle. "Control. This is Kilo-Actual, do you copy?" Evan's ears perked up at hearing Lieutenant Miller himself on the comms. Control answered, and the squad leader requested to speak to Command directly.
"Stand by." Control replied before the radio went quiet again. While Evan at least masked his interest by keeping busy with his work, Brandon had twisted around to look directly at the radio set mounted on the dashboard. As if there was something to see while listening in.
Command finally came on the air and established contact with Lt. Miller before requesting a change in frequency. Brandon caught Evan's eye and grinned at him, then leaned over to the radio and followed their commanders over to the other channel. "Nosy bugger…" Evan smirked while disassembling his GPS tracker for the fourth time now.
It didn't take Evan long to grasp where Kilo squad's reputation came from. This was the Foundation! Every staff member, from the Overseers down to the grunts in Logistics Dept, was responsible for keeping the world safe from the unknown. 'We stand in the darkness, so that others can live in the light!' Even a minor slip-up could cause the end of the world as we know it. Did nobody tell that to these jokers? Or were they just too dense to get it?
To be fair, most of the squad was alright. Lieutenant Brad Miller came across as stern, but approachable. And there was Sgt. Hawkins to really crack the whip when it was needed. A few of the Security Officers, like Evan himself, were putting in dues before moving up the ladder. Others were likely to top out at this point in their careers. And others still were former MTF operatives, transferred back to Security Dept after their teams had been disbanded (if not for some disciplinary reason).
But the training courses and drill sessions were not made any easier by the unprofessional shenanigans of Kilo Squad. Having his balaclava pulled over his eyes while lining up a shot on the rifle range. Or a flashbang grenade tossed onto the obstacle course (not part of the drill!). These incidents always accompanied by a gleeful cry of 'Stress test!'. Because, ostensibly, they're meant to test the recruit's reaction to added stress.
Evan had brought up the issue with his Fireteam Leader, Ed Malone. Although Ed never went so far as approving of the practice, he tended to devolve the complaint into an analysis of the best way the situation could have been coped with, how to address similar situations in the field, and assurances that it ultimately served to make Evan a better soldier. "When the Chaos Insurgency comes to kick down our door and steal our toys, none of them are going to play nice." Ed also made sure Evan understood that, in a live situation, every member of Kilo Squad would have his back to the end.
Command: Kilo, Kilo. Command.
Kilo: Command, Kilo here. Standing by to transmit.
Command: Kilo, go down two channels for transmission.
Kilo: Going down two, copy.
Kilo: Command. Kilo.
Command: Send it, Kilo.
Kilo: Sir, our objective has fled into the forest south of Route 7. We have a tentative perimeter set up, but it seems the objective is not going any further.
Command: What's your unit's sitrep?
Kilo: Holding position on Route 7. No casualties, sir. But we aren't equipped to pursue and complete re-containment. Requesting dispatch a second Tac squad from base to reinforce and bring neccesary equipment.
Command: Are you certain the objective hasn't already crossed the southern boundary?
Kilo: One fireteam bounded south, alongside the objective's projected course. They got ahead of it, and then it just stopped moving. Fireteam is holding position southeast of last confirmed sighting, no new activity reported.
Command: Wait one, Kilo. New orders to follow.
Kilo: Copy.
XXX
Control: Kilo, Kilo. Control.
Kilo: Control, Kilo here. Standing by to copy.
Control: Kilo, MTF Epsilon-88 is being scrambled to your location. Standby for their arrival, Major Garrison will assume control of the operation.
Kilo: Do we have an ETA for Epsilon-10?
Control: One hour, Kilo.
Kilo: [XXX]
Control: [XXX]
Kilo: :/
XXX
"Officially, Epsilon-88 is a Containment Task Force. Really, they just do the same job we do, at twice the cost." Ed Malone explained as the vehicle crept along the dirt road.
"Yeah, MTF Department's been getting approval to form all sorts of 'single-serve forces', dedicated to one individual SCiP or one specific task." Brandon complained, "What are containment specialists like us even for, then?"
"Eyes on the road, B." Ed instructed. "Anyway, these teams are expected to phase out our role in containment and do our jobs more efficiently. But they can't actually fill our shoes; so we're still around, but more limited than ever." Evan kept his eyes trained for movement in the woods on his side of the vehicle, but most of his attention was on Ed's speech. "And Epsilon-88 has been the embodiment of this procedural clusterfuck for our area, more often than not. So the lieutenant already has a particular dislike for them."
Brandon, driving the lead vehicle in the convoy, slowed as he approached the point where the narrow dirt road branched off to an even narrower dirt road.
"Well, if I turn up dead, tell them Mario did it!"
That was the last thing Agent Ryan had said to Whitney when he left The Blue Duck. And then the strangest thing happened. Well, two strange things. The first was, Agent Ryan actually turned up dead. The second thing was that the 'them' she ended up telling that to wasn't the police.
It was me.
Agent Ryan was a member of T-MTF Chi-28 "True Shepherds", a group formed to investigate cases involving breeding of anomalous animals. He'd most recently been looking at a certain bunch of thugs associated with the Chaos Insurgency, trying to confirm reports they had a kennel full of fire-breathing guard dogs or something like that.
That was the background I got when the case came to me. Ryan's investigation had brought him here to the city, and he hadn't been heard from since. Some desk jockey at Site-19 had faxed the file to my office first thing that morning, and I was just sitting at my desk digesting it, along with my breakfast sandwich and coffee, when my desk phone rang.
"Seeking Certainty Private Investigations," I answered flatly.
"You've got that assignment," Russell Wallace asked in a tone that wasn't asking me as much as telling me. Wallace was essentially my handler, my main point-of-contact with the Foundation itself. He handed down my assignments, and I turned up whatever dirt needed digging. Stern, and a bit rough around the edges, he was a big man whose bad side you didn't want to be on.
Lately, that was the side I often found myself on. "Reading over the background right now," I offered. The file hadn't been exceptionally thick, but I was going over it for the second time at this point. It was the first proper case (meaning it could call for actual detective work) that I'd seen in a while.
"Well," I heard him pause to light a cigarette. Funny how he didn't seem to get in trouble for smoking in his office. "Any first impressions?"
"These gangsters he was tracking aren't major players in the Insurgency. Just a bunch of Alphas, if that" I observed. It wasn't much of a revelation, so I ventured "And I don't think anything about dogs here in town has come up on my radar lately. So this could be just a waypoint for the things, en route to wherever they end up being used."
"Or they're going to be used right there in the city" Russell posited. I hadn't ruled that out, and said as much. "Right. Anything else?"
I finished the last of my coffee and tossed the paper cup into the wastebasket next to my desk. "Nothing more just now. I'll try and drop in on" I peered down at the sheets on my desk "Ryan here, see why he's not been in touch. He was using Observation Post: Moonshine?" Russell confirmed this detail, and told me to get in touch with Barry for access. I said I would do that.
"Good. Report back to me what you find, and we'll go from there." With that Wallace hung up, and I was left to skim the remainder of the document in the silence of my office.
I suppose I haven't said much about myself up to this point. My name's Ben Buggeman, agent for Undercover MTF Delta-88 "[nickname needed]". If you want an idea of what that's like, try to imagine a poor man's Pi-1. A Foundation presence in cities too small to justify the 'City Slickers' themselves, but big enough to warrant somebody keeping a finger on the pulse.
The private investigations firm is my cover. I was a P.I. before the Foundation took me on, but it turned out the job wasn't actually like all the pulp noir magazines made it out to be. I found a disappointing lack of the "drinkin' whiskey while chasin' leads in smoky dive bars for dames that are nothin' but trouble" thing happening in my own exploits. Though, now that SCP pays my bills, I get to play the part more to my tastes.
Set me up with an office in the city's downtown too, the Foundation did. It's not much more than a small reception area leading in to an office of similar size, but it helps the image. And it's more comfortable than constantly working out of a car.
But that's enough about me for now. Right then, I was heading out to meet up with Barry.
I left my car on the top of the parking garage and took the stairs down one level. I'd put eyes on the white cube van, with 'Sensation! Cameras and Photography' in worn red letters along the side, as I drove up the ramp. Approaching now, from the stairwell, the coast still looked clear.
The young guy sitting alone in the front of the van had his head down, acting like he was distracted with his phone or something. At least I hoped he was acting; I'd told Barry before that a lack of situational awareness will get an operative in trouble. I slightly altered course, to approach alongside the van from the rear. Keeping my eyes on Barry's (inattentive after all) reflection in the side mirror, I cocked my thumb and pointed a finger right behind his ear.
"Bang bang. You're dead, friend" I grinned at him as he finally glanced up. His greeting for me was limited to an annoyed glance at our deserted surroundings. I fished a slip of paper out of my pocket. "Let's get the protocol out of the way" I said, handing over the authorization code I'd received earlier.
After checking it against some app in his phone, a grin spread across Barry's face. "So! Ben Boozeman wants to get into the Moonshine, huh?" he teased. I stepped away from his door and made a sweeping 'after you' gesture towards the back of the van. Barry obliged and a minute later I was watching him shuffle around the various bags designed for camera equipment that were packed into the vehicle. He found the one he was looking for and opened it up, revealing many sets of keys. Access to safehouses, vehicles, lockers… most any Foundation assets in the city. The inside of the bag, its multiple pockets each stuffed with different keys and tags, looked like a mess to me. But Barry must have had a system in place, because in short order he handed me a keyring with two keys and a tag that identified the set with a string of numbers.
"Thanks, Barry." I pocketed the keys. "Any particulars I ought to know about the place before heading over?"
"Not that I could tell you about, man. All just numbers on a spreadsheet to me." Barry glanced around, "Really, I'm not even supposed to know which keys go with what or where. Part of why they're all code-named, see? Compartmentalizing information against ourselves, along with any spies or whatever."
"Alright. How about the last guy you'd have pimped this set to?" I indicated the keys in my pocket. "Know anything about them?"
"I didn't recognize 'im…" Barry trailed off unhelpfully, while closing the van up.
"No, you probably wouldn't." I sighed as I followed him back to the driver's seat, "He was in from out of town; a tracker for some MTF. What I'm wondering is if you provided them anything else. Keys for a vehicle; or a locker maybe?"
Barry cast his eyes downward and brought a hand to his chin, "Hmm… I don't think I did." He put himself back behind the steering wheel. "Tell ya what," he offered, "I'll swing by Site and double-check the log. Give you a call if there's more to it." I told him that would be appreciated, and we parted ways.
I don't know if, when you heard the name 'The Moonshine', it conjured images of rednecks' dilapidated shacks, tucked away in the foothills, far from civilization. But if it did, then you've got a good headstart on picturing this Observation Post.
Still within the city, but in that industrial part of the city out past the trainyard. Factories, warehouses, run-down apartments, and vacant lots all filled the patchwork grid of weathered streets, occasionally bisected by grimy narrow alleyways. The local branch, I guessed, hadn't been aiming to impress with their hospitality.
Two keys on the keyring; I figured one was for the entrance to the building and the other must unlock the unit itself. But as I approached the front of the complex I noticed the door was sitting ajar, propped open by a brick. I glanced left and right, but there was nobody hanging about nearby. As I entered, I used the side of my shoe to slide the brick aside and let the door close behind me.
The apartment itself was on the ground level. I briefly allowed myself to imagine some type of swanky spy-film arrangement: a secret elevator, hidden in the wall, that would carry me to the underground bunker full of fancy technology and impractically luxurious furnishings. Though I wasn't holding my breath.
When I opened the door and walked in, I wished I had been holding my breath. The apartment looked a damn mess, though that owed mainly to the enthusiastic ransacking someone had issued upon the place. From my vantage I could see at an angle into the bedroom; a body sprawled roughly atop the bare mattress. This was the source of the awful smell.
Of course I've seen corpses before; though my experience has tended largely towards the more recently expired. And it was all too clear the killers had really put the screws to this poor guy before finishing him off. I gave my former colleague the benefit of the doubt, assumed he'd held out against the torture for a good while before being finished off. If he hadn't been holding back secrets, then this wanton brutality definitely had the Chaos Insurgency's signature on it.
I began at the far side of the living room, naively reasoning that I'd grow accustomed to deceased Agent Ryan's stench by the time I worked my way to the bedroom. Despite the extensive effort apparent in the turning over of the room, I had a feeling it might just as much have been vandalism for vandalism's sake. Therefore I retained a sliver of hope that, among the ruined furniture and scattered garbage, something pertinent to Ryan's final assignment might have been left behind.
The sparsely furnished living room/kitchen area didn't actually offer much in the way of secret stash spots. The same went for the bedroom. I was willing to spend a few more minutes on this search, then I'd have to place a call to Site. Report the situation here, and let the clean-up crew tell me later if I overlooked anything worthwhile.
I was just finishing up when my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Barry calling from Site. "You got something for me?" I asked, getting straight to the point. He went on to list the coded designation for a vehicle and an item cache that had been checked out by Agent Ryan along with this observation post. "Yeah, well it's safe to assume those assets are compromised, along with this observation post. Ryan's here, but his mark must have made him. … Yeah it's bad. Hey, you can report this and dispatch a cleaners crew, yeah?"
As I was closing the apartment behind me, Barry was saying something about picking him up a sandwich at Pops' while I was out that way. But I was distracted by another conversation from down the hallway, following the heavy footfalls of three large men. One was explaining to the other two how they should extract an uncooperative individual from one of these apartments, and it didn't sound like a hypothetical thought experiment. Given the neighbourhood, they could be headed for any one of these other units; but the steps were still coming in my direction and I didn't want to play the odds. I quickly ended the phone call with Barry and, rather than go back towards the front of the building, ducked into the door at the end of the hall which led to the stairwell.
The footsteps in the hall stopped at the apartment I'd just left. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I couldn't believe that Barry was such a moron; he'd have really put me in the shit if I left my ringer on in these situations. That thought was interrupted by the powerful thud and sharp cracking of wood that goes with a door being kicked in. I hastily bounded up the stairs and through the second floor hallway, then back down the stairs at the frontside of the building. As I exited the front door I noticed the brick was back in its place.
I would later pause to reflect on how soon those thugs would have ambushed me if I hadn't spoiled their doorstop and made them wait on another tenant leaving the building. But in that moment, I just got myself to my car and booked it back downtown.
XXX
It was too late in the evening to catch Andetti at his office, so it would be harder for me to find and confront him. But it was too early for him to be at home, hidden away in his castle on the north side of town. So not impossible to get to him.
I knew his third-most-frequent location in town was a restaurant called The Modest Jewel. Which was a complete misnomer, in my opinion, as there was nothing modest about the place. But that was probably why Mario liked to hold court there, in his regular booth on the back wall of the joint.
Being in such a rush to get here, I hadn't actually considered just what I'd say once I was face to face with the man. So it was while I was parked on the curb, mulling over my best approach, that this curveball came my way. A sleek black town car pulled up to the front of the Jewel and Andetti, accompanied by another man, walked out and got into the backseat. Andetti was wearing one of his finer expensive suits, but even that looked so-so compared to his mysterious companion's dapper outfit.
Sometimes all you can do is roll with the punches. So I casually pulled off the curb and tailed the big dark car across the city.
The low-profile pursuit took me back to the east side of the city. A large warehouse, on a paved lot that covered half a block, was the destination. The car was let through a gate in the chain-link fence surrounding the compound by a guard, and cruised around to the far side of the building. The guard on the gate wearing a suit, and the open asphalt area looking like the lot for a luxury car dealer, tipped me off that it wasn't just business as usual here tonight. Deductive reasoning at its finest, right?
I circled the block and parked up in an alleyway nearby. On my return I approached a relatively unlit section of the fence and scaled it, putting me on the far side of the parked cars from the warehouse itself. Security outside seemed non-existent, and I easily made my way to the warehouse.
I was so wrapped up in looking for an entrance I could use to slip inside that I didn't even hear anything behind me until the cold steel barrel was pressed against the back of my head. Lack of situational awareness. Embarrassing.
"Bang bang, my friend."
Ugh… Doubly embarrassing.
Barry led me at gunpoint to the front entrance, past a couple more guards, and inside. Seeing them up close I noticed that the suits actually looked a bit cheap, and the guards seemed uncomfortable in them, like children dressed up for church. I caught a glimpse into the hangar-like room where the event was taking place. Most of the floorspace had been cleared away to accommodate a table full of catering trays, and a bar where a mediocre juggler was apparently passing for a flair bartender. A far wall was set up with rows of cages, all holding what looked to me like large black dogs. Before I could get more than a quick glance I was steered to a different hallway and down a narrow stairway into a basement.
"So," I spoke over my shoulder, "you hurtin' for cash Barry?"
"What?"
"I'm just wondering what you're doing here. Being Andetti's secret little minion… Seems like a shitty gig if you ask me."
"Well, nobody asked you!" Barry spit back at me.
"Ooh, witty. Being so smart and clever, ol' Mario must have been begging you to work for him." I ventured a look back, "Is that it, Barry? He make you an offer you couldn't refuse?"
"Keep it moving," he said, jabbing his pistol in my direction for emphasis. I kept walking, but let my last comment hang a little longer to see if he'd bite. "Let's just say I'm smart enough to know who the real players are."
"What's that mean?" I reeled in.
"It means that, after tonight, I'll be very well taken care of. I'll be jumping to the winningest team in the game." I could practically feel him grinning at the back of my head. "You won't have to wait that long though. No, you'll be taken care of right soon now."
"Oh, that one was actually not bad. Maybe you had a little potential after all," I pushed further. Maybe too far, as my only reward was a slap on the side of the head with the gun, and a terse order to move.
We came into a grimy room that looked to me too much like a set from a gangster film. How can I be properly intimidated by the situation, when I'm legit expecting to see that tough-guy-turned-actor who always plays the cool henchman or whatever? He wasn't there, though. It was just Andetti and his fancy friend, flanked by two of Andetti's personal bodyguards; and Barry and me.
A concrete-lined pit filled the centre of the room. I couldn't think of a practical use for that in a place like this, and assumed it was installed by Mario himself with nefarious intent. Case in point: two big, nasty-looking, black dogs were chained up down there. Not fire-breathing dogs, as far as I could tell; but they were covered with deformed growths and nasty scars. One of them had two heads. They seemed unbothered by the damage, but still vicious.
"Ah! Benjamin Buggeman." Andetti said it like he was greeting an old friend. "Tsk tsk… You know how I feel about gatecrashers at my parties."
"Yeah, well you know how I feel about parties." I nodded towards Barry, "Especially when I know my friends will be there."
XXX
XXX
<Expositional banter>
The Dogs
- Chaos Insurgency has revived the GRU Div 'P' | Project: CERBERUS for this scheme of theirs.
- Chaos Insurgency reps (local gang) approached Andetti with offer to sell him several of these dogs.
- Mario accepted, actually intending to sell them on to other buyers.
Mario Andetti
- Mario Andetti aspires to go from client to broker with MC&D
- By holding an event to sell the anomalous dogs, attempting to impress his closest contact actually in MC&D (mysterious well-dressed man)
- Has turned Barry double-agent against the Foundation, promising him plenty of money once he's a member of MC&D
- Hires CI thugs to play role of security at his event.
Chaos Insurgency
- Planning something bigger than making money from Andetti
- Making some kind of statement about: animal cruelty, humanity overpopulating, money is just artificial worth, and maybe some other stuff.
- Release the dogs, who attack and tear most everyone in the room (including some of the CI thugs) to shreds
"So this is you trying to show off?" I chuckled. "A shady pet shop, in a warehouse posing as a ballroom? Attended by all the 'most eminent socialites' of River City? Staffed by nasty Chaos Insurgency goons?" The silent man in the suit raised his eyebrows at the mention of the CI. Which was about the biggest reaction I'd seen from him thus far, so my confidence got a boost.
"I guess it's to be expected; a big fish in a small pond, without even enough self-awareness to realize that's what he is. Too bad you didn't give your proper-whale friend here the full story on your supply chain." Andetti's smugness was giving way to distress now, as he looked to the whale then back at me. "He could have told you that those punks are tied up in an organization that only works towards its own ends. And your money ain't that."
As if on cue, the muffled sound of screaming and commotion from upstairs reached us. Andetti barked orders at his bodyguards to go see what was happening.
XXX
This guy was wearing a bizarre outfit; with leather pants, some sort of reptile-skin boots, and a (woman's?) fur coat over a bare chest. He looked like he should be strutting down a catwalk for some post-modern fashion show, with an eccentric theme like "Post-Apocolyp-chic".
A GOC temporary camp in a remote wilderness location. A herd/pack/colony of some dangerous wild-animal-predator type of anomalous creatures has been found, and is being corralled and exterminated by armed operatives.
The Foundation has negotiated their way to involvement in the operation; offering to assist with the task, on the condition that they be allowed to secure some live samples for containment and study. A single Foundation MTF has been embedded in the GOC encampment, and tasked with working alongside the GOC while capturing their own objectives.
Can the MTFC contend with the trigger-happy GOC operatives and carry out the assignment? Or will they bag and tag all the targets and leave no survivors for SCP?
"An article about a baptism during which the participants are compelled to punch people. The article should evoke desire." - SCP Random Idea Generator
Tale version?
- Just describe the tension building in a situation that's like a Mexican stand-off, bound to end in punching punching instead of shooting.
- "The Godfather throws the first punch…"
"No, that is what I've got in the report too." Gibson scanned the document, reading directly from the page so there was no room for confusion. "That the target is: 'eccentric', 'reclusive', 'guarded by a small army'…"
"Yeah, who filed that last piece of intel?" Floyd demanded.
Gibson hummed as he checked the timestamp in the observation log and compared it to the watch schedule. "Looks like it was Agent Clark's shift."
Agent Floyd sighed and resolved to smack Agent Clark with a large trout the next time he saw him. "Alright. Bravo squad in position to execute objective." Gibson cleared him to act, and MTF Gamma-19 carried out the task.
… [Insert After-Action Report about how Agent Floyd and Bravo Squad were able to successfully abduct POI for interrogation after fighting off a security detail of more than 30 dwarves]
He stared at the screen. He had been staring at the screen for minutes now. Sitting completely still, save for his two index fingers which quietly drummed on the desk.
He could not, for the life of him, figure it out.
What was the meaning of this? It seemed the more he found out, the more information he gleaned, it only served to muddy the waters and complicate matters.
"Hey!" Her voice brought me back to the present moment. "You ready?"
"Yeah… Yeah, let's do this!" I cocked back the slide of the pistol as I replied, to punctuate my 'moment-of-badass' line. That action was punctuated by the dull plink of an unspent round being ejected from the chamber and landing at my feet. My indefatigable optimism declared that if I got shot now, at least it would mercifully end my emberrassment.
X
How can it be that it's such a slow and gradual process, yet when the realization occurs it feels as if it was all so sudden? Like being in a raft that drifts out to sea; the shoreline gets further and further, until that distant bit of land disappears on the horizon. And the recognition of that situation, so obviously building for so long toward just one obvious conclusion, it somehow surprises and shocks.
Maybe it's to do with the ever-present difference between expectation and reality. To the way the grass is always greener on the opposite side of the fence. The way vacations eventually wind down and one wants to go back home, but in those first days it feels like they could stay forever.
Suppose they tried to.
Suppose they did.
Don't ask how. Suppose they don't know. They just decided to stay, and there was nothing that stopped them. Apparently they could go missing without ever being missed.
Was there a point I could have done something to stop that drift? Possibly. No, certainly there was.
Reach out to them. Get back in touch.
No. That might be awkward.
If they contacted you? Right now?
That would be nice. I would like that, I think.
But the other way around, they wouldn't feel the same?
No. … Maybe. I don't know. Shut up; obviously you aren't getting it.
X
Table 10 (Back-ups of Tales)
- Cover Page
- B,S,&B Back-up
- BS&B WIP-Notes
- Going In, B
- GIB WIP-Notes
- First Time's The Charm
- 1TTC WIP-Notes
- untitled
Copies of tales, in case they're get deleted.
Blood, Sweat, and Beers
12. STEP 14/3
One Beta will collect the rings from each of the Alphas. All five rings are to be brought to the River City train station, and placed in locker #212.
The man stepped back and let me into the apartment. I followed him through to the living room; the TV silently looped the DVD menu of a movie I didn't recognize. A standing lamp dimly lit the low table in the centre of the room, which held several empty beer cans, an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts, and a dinner plate with a small mound of white powder sitting on it. Next to the table was a worn-out couch, which held a skinny young girl until our host tersely ordered her to go for a walk (he'd text her when she should come back).
She must have been used to this, I figured, because she stood to leave without a word. Scratching a non-existent itch on my head, I pushed my knit cap further down over my brow before she passed me on her way out. As the man returned from locking the front door behind her, I pulled up a chair from the adjoining kitchenette. He retrieved two fresh beers from the fridge, handing one to me before sitting back on the couch. One wordless toast and two big swigs later, I decided to get on with the business at hand.
"Let's get this going. Time's a factor, eh." I said to him. He set his beer on the table and narrowed his eyes at me, but didn't say anything. "Show me the ring?" I pressed on, my tone about one quarter pleasant if you'd be so kind, sir and three quarters impatient I don't have all night for your bullshit, bud.
"Let me show you the thing," he said. Whether that was some kind of attempt to be in control of the conversation, or if he was actually oblivious to what I'd just said, I wasn't sure. But he leaned down and took a shoebox from the floor beside the couch, putting it in his lap and opening it. From inside he produced a plain-looking silver ring and placed it on the table, halfway between us.
I didn't move right away. I took a long pull off my beer and eyed the ring suspiciously, then turned my gaze to him. A few more silent moments passed before I said plainly "Show me."
"What?" He rolled his shoulders and stared a hole through me. I did my best to suppress a shiver, but expect he still copped to the nerves. Whatever, let him feel like a tough guy. I'm not here for a fight.
"You're going to use it, no?" I said, trying to keep my voice calm and level. "Show me that it is what it's meant to be?" I killed the last of my beer and set the empty can on the table.
He shook his head at me. "Not how this works, son. You just take it. You know what to do with it."
I played confused. "The instructions I got," I leaned forward and took the paper from my back pocket, "said you'd show me…" I put the sheet on the table, leaning further forward to slide it towards him.
He leaned forward to get a look at the letter, and I put a hole in his head. He slumped back into the couch, blood running through his greasy hair; I tucked my pistol into the back of my pants and pulled my sweater down over it. He was dead, and I needed another beer.
Pretty cold, I know, to shoot a man dirty like that. But I hate these Chaos Insurgency fuckers. I know they've done worse. I've seen it. Hell, if the roles were reversed he'd have done the same to me. And gotten a kick out of doing it, too; no remorse. I did it because I had to. My first housecall tonight nearly ended with a knife in my gut, and I wasn't going to chance it happening again. Call it doing what's needed to complete the mission. Call it payback for all our agents that the CI has done for. Call it righteously purging the world of a vile blight, one piece of human scum at a time. It's damn near heroic when I do it. Though heroes probably don't need clumsy poetic sentiments to justify their actions to themselves…
I scratched another address off the list and scooped up the ring. I dropped it into my pocket, where it clinked against the three similar rings I'd collected tonight. I put in a call to the Site dispatcher, requesting another clean-up crew at yet another location; he started whining an objection, but I hung up on him before he finished.
I stood there a minute, sipping a fresh beer and gazing out the window at the starless night. I thought of the thug I'd found the original scrap of paper on, and how he'd got himself killed rather than taken in by us. I thought of the four creeps I'd put down so far tonight, how all of them had unwaveringly refused to do what wasn't ordered in their own instructions. Then I thought of how it was getting pretty late now.
I glanced around the room, even though I knew I was alone; just an instinctive thing. I dabbed a finger into the white powder on the table and gingerly tasted it. I smirked at my recently deceased host while helping myself to a line of his fine cocaine. After all, there's one more ring to collect tonight; I can't run out of juice just yet.
A shrill, chirping sound harshly interrupted my much-needed sleep. My hand blindly searched the bedside table for my phone, while my head cursed at the damned alarm it shouldn't have even left set to go off this morning. By the time the phone was in my hand my mind recognized it as not the alarm tone, but the ringtone for calls from Site. With a long and aggravated sigh I brought the phone to my ear and grunted some tired approximation of a greeting.
I was notified of a previously unscheduled consultation with my MTF Team Leader this morning. I pulled the phone away to look at what time it was, and then grumbled that I'd be at my office in a couple hours and would call in from there. "I'm afraid not," came the reply. "I've been advised that you're to come down in person for this meeting. As soon as possible." My head uttered a string of profanities, while my mouth said I'd be on my way shortly. My hand was three quarters of the way through hurling the phone against a wall, but instead placed it back on the table. I dragged myself out of bed and set to making myself presentable.
The cool air on the drive out of town helped reduce the sharp pain in my head to a dull ache, and I didn't feel nauseous at all. In short, this hangover ranked as 'pretty bearable'. Which was good, because trying to dig myself out of a hole in the presence of Russell Wallace was bad enough on its own. Russell Wallace essentially acts as handler for me and a handful of other agents on U-MTF Delta-88 that operate in the region. He was a big man with a short fuse; and I'd be walking right into the blast zone. … Again.
I shuffled past the security checkpoints and into the administrative wing of the site. I made my way through the halls until I reached a slate on the wall which read 'MTF Delta-88, TL - R. Wallace'. I knocked on the adjacent door and entered the office. Wallace sat behind his desk with a single file folder closed in front of him. He fixed his steely gaze on me, but didn't say anything until I was seated across from him. Another agent might have taken this to mean things weren't so bad after all. I recognized it as the calm before a storm.
A few more moments of silence passed, then "You worked last night." Wallace had a way of asking questions that sounded more like statements of fact. Which they generally were, but I was meant to answer anyway.
"Yes sir. I was assisting Gamma-19 with picking up a POI for questio-"
"I'm aware of that." He interrupted. "You haven't filed your after-action report on that assignment."
"It was going to be turned in this morning, sir. I was working late on a follow-up to that incident…" I trailed off as his stare intensified. "You're aware of that as well, I'm guessing." A barely perceptible nod confirmed that he was. "Well," I attempted to slip the noose, "I'll get that paperwork to you right away, an-"
"Do you know how I'm aware of that fact, Buggeman?" I wasn't getting away that easily. I turned over the possible answers in my head. An operative from Gamma-19 ratting me out for pocketing the lead and following it up alone? No, I was sure I hadn't been followed to any of the locations. Site dispatch logged the clean-up requests? I told them to keep it off the books, and they'd said they would since they owed me a favour. Or I ended up owing them a favour after the fifth one. Wait, that was after the third. Or was it th-?
I became suddenly aware of the tense silence filling the room. My lack of a response served as admission that I didn't know how he knew. I was legitimately anxious to hear the answer. He opened the folder on his desk and showed me the contents. Sure enough, there was a summary of all five of my after-action support requests. I stared at it for a long while. Longer than necessary, for someone who already knew what it said. Longer than necessary for someone reading it for the first time. When I finally forced myself to look back up and meet Russell Wallace's stern face he asked if I had any explanation to offer.
I cleared my throat nervously. "My after-action report will address the support requests." I'd barely finished before he launched back.
"Will your after-action report address why you consistently act without oversight from your superiors?" he spit viciously. Here comes the rage. "Will your after-action report address why you insist on operating without calling in appropriate backup beforehand?" By now he was red in the face and nearly out of his chair hollering at me. "Will your after-action report address why you seem to think that Foundation resources exist solely to satisfy your deluded fantasy of being some kind of hardboiled detective-story character!?"
To tell the truth, I hadn't considered including any of those points in the paperwork. I wisely chose not to give voice to that truth, making due with uneasily chewing my thumb behind the hand I held to my face. He'd done a thorough job of cowing me down, and we both knew it. I played the card that would hopefully be my deliverance, and placed the bag from my jacket pocket on the desk. Inside that bag were the seperately bagged and labelled silver rings, as well as the scrap of paper detailing one small step in a larger Insurgency scheme. I'd gotten results, at least; but I let that go without saying as well.
Wallace briefly examined the items laid before him, his expression seemed to acknowledge that I did indeed have something to show for my work. If I didn't have the rings, bagged up and ready to turn over right there, Wallace would likely have moved to terminate me. Right there in his office, with his bare hands. "Go home and clean yourself up, Ben," he muttered at me. "Be in your office Monday morning."
As it stood, I was relegated to administrative duties for the foreseeable future. And unless Research Dept. found those rings to be something major, I wouldn't get back in the field for a damned long time. Maybe never…
Hours later I was still thinking about it all. Did I need to completely re-assess my principles? Maybe I was taking my job as an MTF agent for granted, ignoring the seriousness of the position. Though, I could think of clean and sober operatives who couldn't pull off half of what I was capable of doing. Or was I making excuses for choosing personal indulgences over striving to reach my full potential? Shit, I was starting to sound like one of those Medical Dept. psych-doctors. I actually found that amusing. I could be here a long while debating myself like this; I waved over the server from down the bar for another pint.
Notes
- Make more exciting/interesting. Try to build more tension? How can make reader care?
- Highlight more the contrast from waxing self-righteous to drinking beer nd snorting blow while on a mission?
- (To bring in line w/ tentative title: Describe more graphically the blood from the kill? Indicate more the narrator sweating it out/being nervous in the lead-up? Plenty of beer already)
- Chaos Insurgency connection = effective? Possibly use another GOI, or just unaffiliated thugs..
- Paragraph between line breaks disrupting the flow?
- Cut the hard drug use completely? Just alcoholism may be more palatable to the reader…
- Include effort on the Agent's part to cover their own tracks (Call clean-up crew, give location, claim he can't stick around to meet them, no time to explain, *hang-up*)
- Dial back overt exposition in 'inner thoughts' paragraph, and the waxing poetic on 'cleansing the world' line
- Character is more playing at hard-boiled detective than he actually is one. Make this clearer, add something at 'inner thoughts' paragraph that does so.
Notes for 2nd Half
- Address allegations of agent operating like a loose cannon. "Taking the initiative" by keeping the recovered partial-document to themselves and acting alone to intercept the items.
- Tie up, or at least account for, loose ends from Part 1 (i.e. bodies from a series of murders, that girl and any other potential witnesses)
- How did Wallace find out about the follow-up exercise'?
- Possibly another operative cleaned up after Agent? How many of the Agent's other "indiscretions" would come to light in this case (another operative following a few steps behind, calling clean-up team, amnesticising any witnesses)?
- From five call-outs for a 'clean-up crew', at five different locations, in one night? No matter if the dispatcher is a friend, if they owe a favour, whatever. They can't bury five call-outs like that without filing paperwork on them.
- See Part 1 re: more effort on the agent's part to cover their own tracks.
- 'Explain the rings' vs. 'Let them serve as nothing more than MacGuffins in the story' (???)
- Ultimately: How much trouble does the agent get in? Disobeying protocols, potentially compromising safety and cover, being under the influence while on a mission (if they get busted for that too) vs. the value of the objects recovered and the CI plot disrupted.
- Delve more into addressing each of these issues vs. Leave tale at current length (???)
- Characterization breaks down.. Too much expository aftermath that doesn't pay off.
- Nothing unexpected happens in the second half of the story. Try to create a second hook for the reader
Feedback Gotten After Posting
- Too much unnecessary description
- Overly self-aware (considered as positive and negative by different readers)
- Room for improvement re: wording in certain places
- Character couldn't/shouldn't get away as they do with behaving this badly (dial back how much they break the rules, or increase the severity of the repercussions)
To: | Capt. Reilly, MTF Rho-36 ("Breacher's Pets") |
From: | Site-38 Security Dept. |
Subject: | SCP-████ Containment Breach |
At 23:18 Site-38 researchers confirmed that between █ and █ instances of SCP-████ have breached containment. On-site security forces have been unable to locate the instances in Site-38's immediate vicinity. Direction of travel has been determined, and viable habitat in that area mapped out (co-ordinates to follow). Description of SCP-████ SCP-████ is a [REDACTED]. SCP-████'s ██████ contains [REDACTED]. The ████████ is inert by itself; however, [REDACTED]. This results in [REDACTED] designated as SCP-████-1. SCP-████-1 will be [REDACTED]. ███████ coming into contact with SCP-████-1 become increasingly [REDACTED]. As time passes, the [REDACTED]. High concentrations of SCP-████-1 will [REDACTED]. Experimentation suggests that it is effectively impossible to [REDACTED]. Once the ███████ is ████, all █████████ will [REDACTED]; this suggests that [REDACTED]. |
Bert Nash looked at the watch on his wrist, then at the clock in the dashboard of the truck, then back to his watch. It felt like he'd been waiting forever, but it was only 03:20; barely an hour since the MTF had arrived on scene. He was usually fine with the waiting game. But tonight, for some reason, he just wanted things to get going. And, last he'd seen the rest of the guys, they seemed even more restless.
Someone on Site-38's security staff had been overzealous with their informational security practices. The initial briefing was more black marker than text. What little information that wasn't redacted before being handed down didn't make it clear just what they were out there for. But something in this patch of woods warranted their immediate deployment. Right now Captain Reilly, the MTF's commanding officer, would be tearing a strip off the Site staff and getting the declassified information needed to tackle the mission without fumbling blindly in the dark. In the meantime rapid response was called for, and Bert's squad had the honour of deploying first.
The perimeter was in place, and they were awaiting the arrival of Squads -2 and -3 before moving in. Nash sat alone in the vehicle, parked near the beginning of the unpaved road that wound its way uphill into the forest. Sergeant Braun, the Squad Leader, had stayed with the fireteams at the staging area, while Nash drove back to "cover" the only viable access route. It seemed unnecessary to him; the odds of any civilians wandering up here for him to turn away were next-to-none, and the backup wouldn't really need directions to find their way to the rest of the guys. But there he was, alone on radio control duty.
While Bert was beginning to feel a bit restless, Sgt. Braun was already well beyond that point. The radio in the truck crackled to life as the squad leader hailed him. Nash took the mic from the dash and answered.
"Is the rest of the force on scene?" the sergeant barked impatiently.
"Negative, sir. No sign of them yet." Bert replied. And asking me every ten minutes isn't going to hurry them up any.
"We're forming up to move in. If they aren't here in ten, we're going without them."
That doesn't sound good. "I'm sure they're en route, sir. I don't think we should act before they arrive…" Braun didn't respond to that, but Bert figured he probably couldn't have steered him off the idea anyway.
For the next ten minutes, Nash sat and hoped he'd see the rest of the force coming up the road, but they never did. At 03:31, each of the fireteams sounded off for final comms checks before embarking. Despite his aversion to this course of action, Bert dutifully confirmed that everyone was reading loud and clear. This was how things were going to go down, and he wasn't in a position to stop it.
Now, with the squad acting unauthorized, the dynamic had shifted. Instead of looking forward to headlights bouncing up the dirt road, he was nervous about their arrival. Like a kid with their hand in the cookie jar, and he'd be the one facing up to the parents when they inevitably walked into the kitchen. It wasn't my call to move in without orders. I didn't have a say in the matter. But he knew that being responsible for actions taken and being accountable for the results were not the same thing.
There were a dozen other guys up there. Didn't any of them have objections to this plan? Was everybody just that eager to disobey their orders and storm the woods, guns blazing? Without even knowing what they were looking for? The more he thought about it, the worse the idea seemed.
He got out of the truck to stretch his legs. He paced back and forth, taking deep breaths to try and calm his nerves. This had to happen this way. We couldn't just keep sitting and waiting, Nash reasoned to himself. Maybe it was working, because he began to relate with the sense of urgency that Braun must have felt when he made the decision.
Bert got back in the truck and tried to focus on the radio chatter. It hadn't taken long for the squad to zone in on their target. Fireteam-3 sounded excited. They were closing in on the objective, and Fireteam-2 was flanking. Maybe we're going to complete recontainment on our own, Nash was hopeful now. Maybe the other squads will show up, and we'll tell them it's been taken care of. Maybe we'll look-
The crack of gunshots in the distance interrupted that train of thought. "What the hell?!" he blurted out loud. Each fireteam is equipped with non-lethals. We're a Containment force, not an Armed! The guns aren't meant to be a first resort… The radio was buzzing with all three fireteams co-ordinating their attack. Nash was trying to discern why they'd immediately gone to live fire. Are they getting killed out there? He tried to get a word in, but was either getting talked over, or just ignored. He punched the dashboard of the truck in frustration. "For fuck's sake guys..!" What was happening?
That was when the rest of the MTF arrived on scene. Nash wasn't sure what he felt most: anxious, relieved, agitated… When the lead vehicle in the convoy stopped alongside his and the passenger in the front seat stepped out and crossed toward him, a new feeling pushed into the picture: confusion.
He recognized Captain Reilly, even behind the SCBA unit covering his face. "Situation, Nash." the commander demanded. Bert sat in stunned silence. He was trying to piece together what he was seeing. The rest of the squad in the lead vehicle were kitted up with breathing masks as well. "Nash," Reilly pressed him, "where is the rest of your squad?"
Bert opened and closed his mouth wordlessly, only managing a vague nod in the direction of the road behind him. He saw Reilly's eyes narrow, assessing the situation at hand. Not one to waste time, the captain hustled back to his own truck and climbed in, turning to address one of the team members in the back seat. The rear door behind the driver opened and the passenger got out, closing the door behind him. The captain gestured for his driver to continue up the road, and the convoy of reinforcements drove on.
The man now approaching Bert Nash's window was Reilly's second-in-command, Staff Sgt. Barnes. He leaned in to address Nash. "New security staff," Barnes said ruefully. "Didn't understand who infosec does and doesn't apply to. If they'd have just delivered the full details right away we could have all come out at once, properly equipped." He shook his head at the rookie mistake wrapped in red tape that obstructed them in duty. Bert Nash still didn't understand what was happening.
Barnes finally recognized Nash's concern. "Don't worry, you guys haven't been inhaling anything toxic out here," Barnes assured. He brought his hand up and Bert noticed for the first time the dossier he was carrying. "We should have kept all you guys further back from the area. Minimal threat to your safety, mind you. I just hope they haven't been-"
Bert had dialed down the volume on the radio when he'd seen the other trucks approaching, but someone out there was screaming into their handheld. The words came through loud and clear, interrupting the staff sergeant.
"Yyyeaah!! Nailed the sonofabitch!"
Dan Potter pulled off the dirt road into the clearing and nosed his SUV in behind the other with matching park ranger markings. He parked it and stepped out into the hot mid-day sun. Wilson Boyle walked over and met him next to the vehicle.
Potter and Boyle were members of a Containment MTF as well, but one specializing in a different sort of containment.
Potter glanced over at the tents set up next to the civilian vehicle in the makeshift campsite. Boyle's partner was addressing three young men and taking notes in his notepad. "Dan," Boyle greeted Potter as he approached.
"Wil," Potter responded with a nod. They conversed in hushed tones at the front of the truck. "So, what's the situation here?"
"These kids say they got out here Thursday night. Been camping, 'partying'…" Potter took the implication and nodded for Boyle to continue. "There was four of them come out for the weekend. Seems they thought their buddy retired to his tent early last night, but this morning there's no sign of him. Possible he wandered off in the night, got lost or something."
"Mm-hmm," Potter nodded. "Let's have the specifics," he said, gesturing to the notepad Boyle held in his hand. Boyle opened the pad to the relevant page and placed it on the hood for his Team Leader to copy to his own notes.
As Dan Potter jotted down the information he pieced it together with the reports on last night's incident. "Alright. I'll have someone at Site look into this, determine how to bury it." he said while flipping his notepad closed and sliding it into his shirt pocket. "You two just hang about near here for now, but have the amnestics ready."
Boyle tipped his ranger hat to Potter. "Sir."
Plot Points
- Squad goes in before support arrives
- Fireteams search for clues
- Fireteams locate a target, pursue
- Radio chatter becomes increasingly aggressive as mission progresses
- Fireteams attack target with lethal force, confirm kill
- Backup squads arrive and deploy, geared up with SCBA kits
- Backup explains further analysis of initial reports determined what the target was
- <insert twist ending here>
Characters
MTF Rho-36
Commander - Capt. Reilly
2iC - Staff Sgt. Barnes
1st Squad Leader - Sgt. Braun
Featuring - Bert Nash
The Other MTF
Team Leader - Dan Potter
Member - Wilson Boyle
Feedback/Suggestions
- Tighten up technical presentation, look for ways to improve execution / engage the reader more
- Try to make the characters less flat / more developed
- MTF acts unprofessionally (because under the effects of 1087-1)
- Better explanation for the excessive redactions (added a line in para2)
- Reduce unnecessary 'he thought's. Despite 3rd person perspective, ok to be more liberal with being inside the main character's head.
- Incompetent Foundation action requires too much suspension of disbelief. Re-tailor the tale to be about initial recovery, so it's plausible that the MTF didn't know what they were going up against?
- State more clearly the events that took place vs. Leave it for the reader to piece together (?)
- Perhaps book-end the tale with a Site-38 Security Dept. internal memo/disciplinary notice for the security staff member that drafted the initial message. Could be an additional hint to the implication while still being not too explicit..
After-Posting Feedback
- Seems incomplete. Still too vague/unclear what happens
- Bad introduction / Dull
Assigned Personnel
Light Transport Vessel 04
Boarding Party
Pilot: Brad Cannon Deckhand(s): George Montgomery Rudy Lynch Timothy Holland
Security Officer(s): Ken Jones Peter Alves Researcher(s): Gene Perry Dorothy Hansen D-Class: D-3487 D-6533 D-2995 D-3855
Brad Cannon heard Peter Alves coming before he entered. He was humming some tune from some opera that Brad didn't know the name of. Peter didn't know the name either; he simply identified it as 'that song where the dude's just stoked about the elephants'.
"So," Peter slid into a seat across from Brad in the mess hall. "Your crew got picked to take us on our little trip tomorrow, huh?"
Brad swallowed the last of his lunch. "Heh, I volunteered us."
"Oh. Really?"
"Yeah, it's something to do. Beats just cruising around the perimeter all day, at least."
"I hear ya, man." Peter replied as he dug into his own meal. "Three months of seatox, and then the post is boring as sh-"
"Seatox?" Brad interrupted.
"Oh. Yeah, y'know. Like detox, but out at sea." Peter explained, adding with a grin "I am gonna party so hard once I'm back ashore."
"Sure kiddo," Brad smiled back. Then he stood and took his mealtray. "Speaking of boring, I've got to get ready for a patrol-shift right now. See you at the briefing tomorrow morning."
Alves gave a small wave goodbye as Cannon walked away.
Specialized Tools/Equipment
- Noise-cancelling Ear Defenders (x12)
- Disposable Camera (x6)
- Set of Semaphore Signal Flags (x2)
- Retractable Personnel Tether (x4)
- Analog Stopwatch (x2)
Ken Jones held one stopwatch in each hand. After watching them count off 60 seconds in sync, he reset them and placed them back on the workbench with the rest of the items. Satisfied that everything was in working order, Jones turned around to find Brad Cannon approaching him.
"Hey," Ken greeted him "how was patrol?"
"Meh, same old same old." Brad replied with a shrug. "Weather's a bit nasty out there."
"Hm… That going to affect the mission?"
"Nah, shouldn't be anything we can't handle." Brad reassured him. He then turned to Rudy Lynch, who had just now followed him in. "Everything squared away down there?" Brad asked, referring to their patrol boat.
"Pretty much, sir. Tim and George are just topping up the fuel. Wanted to let you know we tuned into the forecast; it might blow a bit more tonight, but should die down by late tomorrow morning."
"Ah, good news." Brad said, as much to Ken as Rudy. "Make sure they don't need any more help, then all three of you can turn in until tomorrow's briefing."
"Oh hey!" Ken interrupted as he slotted the four mini-flags into the box holding the ear defenders. "I'm gonna come with, put these on the boat so they're there in the morning."
"Nah, Rudy can take care of that for you." Brad took the box from Ken and passed it along. "Right Rudy?"
"Sir!" Lynch gave an informal salute before he turned and left with the box tucked under one arm.
"Oh, the rest of that..?" Brad gestured toward the remaining gear.
"I'll hang onto it 'til tomorrow." Ken said.
After bidding each other farewell, Cannon left. Jones, once more, examined and tested each piece of equipment; then he tucked everything into his gearbag and retired to his quarters.
Objective
- To board SCP-2454 for the purpose of gathering data and recording observations
"It doesn't mean 'get ready to make your way back soon'; it doesn't mean 'just finish your roll of film quick', okay? You get three pulls, you get your asses out!"
Ken Jones, giving the D-Class personnel their directions for the operation, could not seem to emphasize this enough. "Because there are no extra minutes. If you aren't back on this boat when the timer's up, I cut your cord and it's nobody's problem but your own."
The four D's tasked with entering the ship to take photos nodded broodingly. Jones, apparently satisfied, turned and faced the front window. He saw the cloudy gray sky as the small cabin cruiser's bow rose up over the crest of a wave, then the cold gray sea as it dipped back into a trough. Briefly in between, the massive cruise ship on the horizon.
Brad Cannon leaned over from his captain's seat. "Support Vessel's reporting about 11 minutes between pings," he mentioned to Jones. "Could be you will have an extra minute…"
Jones turned to him now. "Is that coming from the guy who woke up ten minutes before his alarm this morning, treated it like an extra hour, and still was late to briefing?" Cannon smirked at that slight exaggeration, but kept his eyes ahead as he negotiated the ocean swells. "If I'm lucky enough to get a bit of breathing room," Jones continued, "I want it there when I need room to breathe."
Planned Procedure
- Light Transport Vessel 04 (operated by Brad Cannon and crew) will transport all personnel from Support Vessel 01 to area of operations
- Boarding Party will enter SCP-2454 with cameras and evidence bags, taking photographs and collecting articles for study
- Light Transport Vessel 04 will extract personnel from area of operations and return to Support Vessel 01 for debriefing
"Of course he won't want to leave anyone behind," Dorothy Hansen spoke in a hushed tone. "But if it comes to jeapordizing the entire team, and the objective, for the sake of trying to save one -" She halted mid-sentence and stared gravely at the back of the seat inches in front of her face.
"Relax," said Gene, soothingly. "Breathe… Try to focus on the horizon." Gene Perry and Dorothy Hansen were the two official researchers on this assignment. They shared a bench seat, and for the most part had been chatting between themselves.
The pair of them had been slated to board SCP-2454 together; recording observations while remaining on the deck of the ship, in sight of Jones and Alves at all times. But Dorothy started feeling nauseous shortly after the transport boat got under way, and Jones made an executive decision that she would not be boarding the cruise ship in that condition.
Gene, however, had insisted that he still get to investigate the anomaly himself. And Dorothy had been trying to convince him it was too dangerous to go alone; without a tether, without a second pair of eyes to keep contact with the guards. If he was, at the wrong moment, wrapped up in taking notes instead of watching for the signal to evacuate…
Gene argued that this opportunity was too good to pass up. If it's taken ten years to even attempt a first exploration, how long would it take to mount a second? This was a chance to make a breakthrough, to earn some recognition. He wouldn't get another chance like this one.
Dorothy raised a finger. She wanted to interject, after taking a second to brace against the seasickness. "You said 'ten years'?"
"It's a fairly short assignment, you know," Gene reasoned. "This posting, I mean. I guess enough people are happy to just put in their three months and transfer out." He sighed and added derisively "Without contributing to our overall understanding of the thing."
Hansen understood Perry's point. But this conversation only made her more anxious about the plan, though she couldn't articulate why.
"And we finally got a project head that's pushing this stuff through," Perry prattled on. "Not just thermal imaging and satellites, but real hands-on observations. I can't let this chance slip away."
Hansen had tuned out, instead committing her focus to not throwing up.
Hazard Assessment
- Constant vocalizations by SCP-2454-1
- Noise-cancelling ear protection will be worn by all personnel within the area of operation
- Bursts of radiation occurring at approximate ten minute intervals
- Total time in area of operation will be limited to seven minutes
- All electronics brought on board rendered immediately inoperable
- Non-electronic means of communication and data collection will be established and used while within area of operation
Deckhand George Montgomery held one hand up near his face, and the other pointed out to the side, extended index fingers representing the signal-flags he was rehearsing to use. "So, this is..?" he prompted Security Officer Peter Alves.
"One-minute signal," replied Alves, with mock indignation at being given the simplest of options.
"And you…" Montgomery pressed on.
"Return the same signal to acknowledge." Alves answered, his indignant feelings now a little bit genuine. He mirrored George's hand placement, with his elbows tucked in to his sides.
"Good," Montgomery replied. "Now, if you need immediate evac?" Alves pointed both fingers upward, then outward, then up again. "Right," Montgomery affirmed, "and if I give you that signal?"
"Then you're coming to pick us up, ready or not." Peter was confident he had memorized the pertinent signals they'd be using. "Hey," he looked to George with one finger pointed upwards tracing circles, and the other hand in a fist rocking back and forth. "How about this signal?"
"Oh," replied George thoughtfully. "That's… you signalling that giving some handjobs ain't no big deal."
"Hey," Peter looked sternly at him, "it's only gay if you cuddle after." The two of them stared at each other for a beat before Alves' expression cracked a little, and they had to turn away from each other to avoid bursting into laughter.
Contingency Plan
- In the event of any unanticipated problems or emergency situation, all personnel must immediately evacuate SCP-2454
- No recovery efforts can be made beyond the original allotted timeframe.
"Roger that." Cannon slotted the radio handset back into place. "Care to make the announcement?" he asked Jones. Jones nodded, and turned to address everyone in the cabin.
"Alright, listen up!" Jones waited until everyone gave their attention. "Support vessel's just reported a hit, and the next window is ours. That's action in ten minutes time, everyone be ready!" He concluded on that note, and everyone seemed to withdraw into their personal thoughts.
Ken Jones opened his gearbag and re-examined his equipment. He'd given one of the stopwatches to George already; the other he took out now and hung around his neck, tucking it under his sweater. The 'Personnel Tethers' for the D-Classes (actually not much more than retractable dog leashes) he left in.
Two of the Ds turned over in their hands the disposable cameras they had been issued, the other two just gazed out at the rolling waves. Deckhands Rudy Lynch and Tim Holland, who had been sitting quietly near the cabin doors, stood and shrugged into their cold-weather coats.
Hansen looked to Perry once more. The expression on her face was a plea not to go, yet acknowledged that said plea was futile. Perry tried a reassuring smile; it faded to stoic determination after he turned away.
The support ship radioed in their latest reading. Everyone donned their ear defenders. The boat made its way toward the objective.
After Action Report
[[tabview]]
[[tab Assesment]]
Mission was a complete success. Although no physical items could be retrieved from SCP-2454, (sample collection bags containing various items were all found to be empty after disembarking) photographic evidence gathered has been very useful.
I believe that this has provided an excellent baseline for how more information on SCP-2454 can be gathered moving forward. For reference, I've attached a copy of the original mission outline to this file. My recommendation, however, is that future undertakings might increase the number of participating personnel. With multiple photographers we could collect more data in a single exploit.
[[/tab]]
[[tab Operation Plan]]
Operation Plan
Objective
- To board SCP-2454 for the purpose of gathering data and recording observations
Assigned Personnel
Light Transport Vessel 04
Boarding Party
Pilot: Brad Cannon Deckhand(s): George Montgomery Rudy Lynch Tim Holland
Security Officer(s): Ken Jones Peter Alves Researcher(s): Dorothy Hansen D-Class: D-3855 Planned Procedure
- Light Transport Vessel 04 (operated by Brad Cannon and crew) will transport all personnel from Support Vessel 01 to area of operations
- Boarding Party will enter SCP-2454 with cameras and evidence bags, taking photographs and collecting articles for study
- Light Transport Vessel 04 will extract personnel from area of operations and return to Support Vessel 01 for debriefing
Specialized Tools/Equipment
- Noise-cancelling Ear Defenders (x8)
- Disposable Camera (x2)
- Set of Semaphore Signal Flags (x2)
- Retractable Personnel Tether (x1)
- Analog Stopwatch (x2)
Hazard Assessment
- Constant vocalizations by SCP-2454-1
- Noise-cancelling ear protection will be worn by all personnel within the area of operation
- Bursts of radiation occurring at approximate ten minute intervals
- Total time in area of operation will be limited to seven minutes
- All electronics brought on board rendered immediately inoperable
- Non-electronic means of communication and data collection will be established and used while within area of operation
Contingency Plan
- In the event of any unanticipated problems or emergency situation, all personnel must immediately evacuate SCP-2454
- No recovery efforts can be made beyond the original allotted timeframe
APPROVED
[[/tab]]
[[tabview]]
Pacing moves perhaps too quickly through the intro section.
Take more time with each exchange, establish the characters without rushing past them.
Take more time introducing and establishing the characters
Or, possibly, book-end the tale with official messages / mission outline & after-action report as a way to efficiently introduce the characters
Don't go for the org-chart-porn intro. Use the prose to introduce the characters and provide necessary exposition.
Pacing works well (now, after dispersing the OpPlanDoc throughout the prose snippets)
Manages to hold reader attention without moving too quickly
Some of the transitions could be improved. End of certain scenes feel too abrupt.
Try to put more focus on the tension.
Need more to hook / bring in the reader.
Add more to the story, to expand on the characters further. Or focus more on one or two characters.
Try to find a way to present something more than what's already in the original SCP article
Could expand scenes / add scene to describe some of the exploration itself
(be explicit about ending vs. leaving it at just implication?)
Expand or make more elaborate the introduction
Ending feels too abrupt
Lacking in any real action (physical action, or emotional action / character development)
Dialogue can be improved. Draw out / ramp up converstaions so they appear more casual and natural.
To thank:
(WaterFire, Site19)
(Zyn, Draft Forum)
(AidenEldritch, Site19)
(JackIke, Site19)
(subtletea, Site19)
(Shio, Site19)
(Conwell, Site19)
(sinn1sl0ken, Site19)
(Saga, Site19)
(Leveritas, Site19)
(trots, Site19)
(DrMagnus, Site19)
You'll have to register your nick, then try site19 or thecritters.
That seems pretty complicated…
Well this isnt a channel for critique.
Oh I didn't mean to criticize you, I was just saying.
…
Table 11 (Community Outreach Staff Resources)
SCP Wiki Community Outreach Junior Staff
As of: Jan, 2018
Site Rules
Site Rules
[http://www.scp-wiki.net/site-rules Site Rules]
Criticism Policy
[http://www.scp-wiki.net/criticism-policy Criticism Policy]
Licensing Guide
[http://www.scp-wiki.net/licensing-guide Licensing Guide]
Chat Guide
[http://www.scp-wiki.net/chat-guide Chat Guide]
Guides & Essays
Guide Hub
[http://www.scp-wiki.net/guide-hub Guide Hub]
Tag Guide
[http://05command.wikidot.com/tag-guide Tag Guide]
Advanced Formatting Guide
[http://www.scp-wiki.net/advanced-formatting-and-you Advanced Formatting Guide]
Forums
Ideas & Brainstorming Forum
[http://www.scp-wiki.net/forum/c-89000/help:ideas-and-brainstorming Ideas & Brainstorming Forum]
Drafts & Critique Forum
[http://www.scp-wiki.net/forum/c-50864/help:drafts-and-critiques Drafts & Critique Forum]
Sandbox
Sandbox 2
[http://scpsandbox2.wikidot.com/ Sandbox 2]
Sandbox 3
[http://scp-sandbox-3.wikidot.com/ Sandbox 3]
MTF Delta-88 alternate suggested nicknames:
- The Townies
- Men About Town
- Uptown Funk
- Cousin Earl
- Streetcleaners
- Small Town Force Units / Small-Town-Focused Units