- copypastas
- Keter dude
- Fool's Gold
- A Series Of Changes
- i am a --newb-- toester
- Cigar Club Conspiracy Chickens
- Complexity
- The Future Planner
- Rhyme SCP
- Script tale
- Between the Known and the Unknowable: A Subatomic Story
- The Foundation Paradox
- DEV's Super Awesome Boring Parade
- The Foundation's Department of Redundancy Department
- AIAD Tale Format
- Tick Tock
- test run
- unnamed
- das ist new thing
I am requesting permission to use your article, [ http://www.scp-wiki.net/scp-xxxx | SCP-xxxx ], in my current draft. The Idea forum for my draft can be found right [INSERT LINK| here]. If you have any requests send them to me in a PM. Thanks!
-Devereaux
Hi! I'm a member of the SCP wiki assisting with verifying the Creative Commons Share-alike 3.0 compliance of all images used on the website. We are a creative writing website that focuses on fictional anomalous objects. One of our articles (link at end of e-mail) uses a picture of a ITEM IN QUESTION, that is found on your website. We took it down once we noticed, but I am putting in a request to put the image back up with attribution to your website included.
Wiki homepage link:
http://www.scp-wiki.net/
Article that used your image:
http://www.scp-wiki.net/scp-XXXX
Page with the picture of the ITEM IN QUESTION:
Thank you,
John Devereaux
(ALIAS)
Item #: SCP-YYYY
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: Area-84 has been built to act as an isolated containment unit for SCP-YYYY. It is largely constructed of reinforced concrete and has been outfitted with airlocks, airborne sedative release mechanisms, three sets of redundant power generators, and an onsite nuclear warhead. SCP-YYYY's containment cell is built out of reinforced concrete, with each wall having a thickness 0f 1.02m. It has been outfitted with an airborne sedative dispersal system, three redundant sets of closed circuit security cameras, a closed ventilation and air purification system, a sink, a toilet, a cot, and a food dispensing chute with an automatic timer.
The maintenance of Area-84 and the containment of SCP-YYYY are to be preformed by Mobile Task Force Zeta-41 ("Dealbreakers"). MTF Zeta-41 is to be composed of eight researchers, twenty-two experienced guards, five mechanics, fourteen Mobile Task Force Operatives, one airborne squad, and one land-based unmanned combat vehicle.
SCP-YYYY is to be on suicide watch until further notice.
Description: SCP-YYYY is a Caucasian humanoid reality bender that claims to be thirty-seven years old. It is 167cm tall and appears to be of British and Native American descent. According to SCP-YYYY, its name is Evan White and it is a construction worker from ████, ██████. It has been diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder and schizophrenia and spends much of its time in a highly distressed state.
The exact scope of SCP-YYYY's abilities is unknown. As of the writing of this document, SCP-YYYY has displayed no detectable signs of reality bending and all attempts to coerce it into doing so. Despite its non-cooperation since containment, it is established that SCP-YYYY is an extremely dangerous reality bender, and must be contained at all costs. If SCP-YYYY breaches containment, it is likely to cause an XK-Class end of the world scenario.
SCP-YYYY was recovered from Site-██ when it walked up to the front entrance and claimed it was there for the "office expansion job". It was immediately ascertained by security personnel that SCP-YYYY is a threat, and it was sedated without incident.
Addendum YYYY-01: SCP-YYYY was recovered with a note in its left back pocket that reads:
Dear Foundation,
Meet Agent Drain. You're not the only ones who have dabbled in memetics.
-Chaos Insurgency
As of the time of writing this document, we have not been able to decipher the meeting of this note.
Item #: SCP-2010
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-2010 is to be kept in a standard storage locker in Site-37. No video or photograph equipment is permitted in any location from which it could capture SCP-2010's appearance. Any site personnel visually exposed to SCP-2010 are to be restrained and administered Class A amnestics immediately.
Description: SCP-2010 is a bar of iron pyrite measuring 7 cm x 3 cm x 1 cm and weighing 105 g. The object has a symbol of a mountain with a pickaxe overlapping it engraved on the base. Inscribed beneath the symbol is the phrase. "500. Pure. 100." Above the symbol there is a number with the phrase "freed" beside it. Each time a person is killed in pursuit of SCP-2010, the number will increase by one. The method by which this is accomplished is unknown. There is a depression in SCP-2010 which measures 0.5 cm x 0.5 cm x 4 cm.
SCP-2010's anomalous effects are triggered when it is viewed directly, through a photograph or video, or a sufficiently detailed artistic representation. The affected subject will become convinced of SCP-2010's value as a pure bar of gold and become obsessed with gaining possession of it. If the object is in the subject's possession, they will act as if they're attempting to sell it to others, spreading the effect. The subject in possession of SCP-2010 will always refuse to sell it, claiming that it is worth more than the offer. Subjects who do not possess SCP-2010 will attempt to buy the object with seemingly no regard for financial security. When their offers are refused, subjects will turn to other means of gaining the object, both legal and illegal. This has included blackmail, theft, vandalism, and murder.
Recovery Log: SCP-2010 was recovered on 10/23/███ in [REDACTED], a mining town in southeast Alaska, after police reports indicated that civilians had been seen attacking each other in pursuit of "very valuable gold". Agent Scott was sent to to [REDACTED] to investigate. Shortly thereafter, Agent Scott reported that he had found a very valuable looking gold bar and stated that it could be useful. After determining that the object spread the anomaly visually, Mobile Task Force Eta-10 ("See No Evil") was dispatched to [REDACTED]. Upon arrival, Eta-10 found Agent Scott and ███ deceased civilians throughout the town. During investigation, Eta-10 was told by civilians of "A greedy salesman" until they found Michael Vincent who identified himself as the creator of SCP-2010 and gave it to Eta-10, wrapped in a blanket. Mr. Vincent was detained and questioned and surviving civilians were administered amnestics. SCP-2010 and Mr. Vincent were taken to Site-37 for containment and questioning, respectively.
Interview Log 2010-01:
Interviewed: Michael Vincent
Interviewer: Researcher Mandel
Researcher Mandel: Are you the creator of SCP-2010?
Michael Vincent: SCP-2010?
Researcher Mandel: The object we received from you.
Michael Vincent: Ah, yes.
Researcher Mandel: Why did you create SCP-2010?
Michael Vincent: I wanted revenge.
Researcher Mandel: Revenge against who?
Michael Vincent: The Klondike miners. You see, I grew up in Skagway, Alaska, and I turned twenty right around the time when the big rush of miners came down trying to strike it rich. I was in college at that time, but was dismayed to come home and find my hometown ruined and my mother crushed. She grew up there too, and she hated it as much as I did.
Researcher Mandel: So you set out to kill them?
Michael Vincent: Not exactly, I intended for them to lose everything. It's actually sort of like a story I heard once. A dog was walking on a bridge over a creek with a large piece of meat in his mouth when he looked over the edge at the water below him. He looked down at his reflection, but mistook it for a dog carrying a piece of meat twice as big. He leaped into the water, letting go of his piece of meat, so he could steal the larger one from the other dog. He later washed up on the shore, wet and with no meat. My device was supposed to work the same way.
Researcher Mandel: Why didn't it?
Michael Vincent: I didn't exactly have a supply of readily available test subjects.
Researcher Mandel: How did you create SCP-2010?
Michael Vincent: [No response]
Researcher Mandel: Why are you immune to it's effects?
Michael Vincent: A magician never reveals his greatest trick.
Addendum 2010-01: Each time SCP-2010 changes ownership, a slip of paper with the following poem inscribed on it will appear in the aforementioned depression.
Greed has taken away your mind
You are a slave of pyrite mined
You can now only be set free
By leaving here in poverty
A fool, a fool, a fool again
Live the same fate as many men
Have your good fortune turn to dust
As upon my trap you focus lust
Your greedy ways destroyed my home
No more shall it be here you roam
Go and wallow in broken dreams
Now you are quite destroyed it seems
"Mongoose" climbed into the submarine and looked at the two men standing in the main cabin.
"Well, it's nice of you to finally show up. I remember them saying something to you about tardiness and ass-kicking back in basic, pal." "Snowglobe" gave him a dumb grin from across the cramped submersible. The older scientist they were accompanying just looked at him disdainfully.
"Quiet, Snowglobe." "Speck" spoke from the cockpit. "He's still on time."
Mongoose looked down at the duffel in front of him and thought back to his childhood, more specifically about vacations. He thought of the pervasive air of excitement around the house the day before they left, and about how his mother always made him double and triple check his suitcase.
He bent down to check his duffel.
The older man, who Mongoose recognized to be the leader of Area-354's field research team, cleared his throat. "So, 'Mongoose', I don't believe that we've actually met yet. I'm Dr. Karl Riemann Tollison. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He reached out a slightly wrinkled hand.
Mongoose turned around and shook the man's hand. "It's nice to meet you, doctor. So tell me, why is someone with your clearance on this mission with us?"
"Ah, as you may or may not know, I am an exocosmologist, the mos experienced one at Area-354"
"A what?" Snowglobe interjected.
"An exocosmologist. Someone who studies extra-dimensionality. I'm joining you on this mission to try to discern the dimensional properties of SCP-354's destination."
"Is the your first time?" Mongoose tried to swat a mosquito off his neck.
The doctor paused. "No, this journey shall be my third, and hopefully, the most enlightening one to date. Thought I must say, it has been a while."
Just then, Speck appeared from the cockpit.
"Stow your bag, Mongoose. It's time to dive." Speck looked back at him before speaking into the radio. "Command, this is Poolboy submersible 4. Are we clear to drop?"
"Poolboy, this is Command. You are clear to dive. We will maintain communication until you cross into SCP-354's destination. You'll be on your own then. Once you return, we will establish communication again." The radio crackled and Speck hit a button.
"Roger that command. Diving in ten … nine …"
That ten seconds went by far faster then Mongoose had hoped for.
Once they had gotten set on a stable trajectory, Speck started briefing his team.
"Okay men, our mission is to assist Dr. Tollison in gathering any data he needs. We are here to act in a protective capacity. So long as we stay safe, where we go and what we do are his decisions. We will spend approximately twenty-four hours at SCP-354's destination if all goes as planned. Are we clear?"
Snowglobe and Mongoose said, "Yes sir" in unison, although Snowglobe quickly shot Tollison a skeptical glance.
A few hours into their journey, Mongoose began to stare blankly at the feed from external camera D. He sighed and heard Speck's voice behind him.
"It really is beautiful, ain't it."
Mildly startled, Mongoose jumped in his seat a bit. "I always thought it was more ominous, sir."
"To each his own, Mongoose. To each his own."
The remainder of the trip consisted of small talk, a few scientific lectures from Dr. Tollison, and only one impish threat from Snowglobe. Mongoose was fairly certain that had to be a record.
Speck yelled from the cockpit. "Okay men, we should be resurfacing in five minutes. Prepare to disembark."
Mongoose looked at the external camera feed again and noticed the water getting lighter. Then he heard the alarms. He felt sweat droplets begin to coalesce on his palms.
"The hell is that?" he heard Snowglobe shout from the cabin.
Speck paused. "That's not us."
"Well then who the fuck is it?" Snowglobe retorted.
"Shove it, Snowglobe. We still have a mission to accomplish. We'll figure out soon enough anyway." He turned to the Tollison. "You have any idea what this is?"
The doctor pondered for a moment before speaking. "This could be any number of things. You see, we really never have any idea what lies on the other side of the pool. I can only tell you that we're entering a technologically advanced reality or about to meet a creature with one very interesting mating call." The humor did nothing to break the tension.
"Mongoose, Snowglobe, full armor." Speck said while trying very hard to appear unfazed.
They had already begun suiting up.
The alarms continued to get louder.
Speck shouted, "We should reach the surface in 10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1…-"
The submarine captain was interrupted by a voice erupting from a speaker system surrounding the edges of this new red pool.
Researcher Fisher was in his office, reading over transcripts of messages from Charles Gears, head of the Unusual Incidents Unit, requesting access to the Red Pool for testing purposes. He sighed and took another sip of coffee. Fisher looked down at his watch and trying to time his arrival at the meeting with Base Commander Dubois carefully. He didn't plan on being late, again, not after last time.
That's when he heard the alarm go off.
It startled him and he spilled a few ounces of coffee on his lap. "Dammit", he muttered under his breath and stood up. He made his way to the intercom, ready to relay messages to the rest of the base. He saw a submarine pop out of the sanguine lake and spoke into the microphone.
"You have entered a restricted Global Occult Coalition facility. Come out of the submersible unarmed with your hands in the air."
"Wait, GOC, how the—?" Snowglobe's sarcastic resting expression had been wiped right off by the man on the intercom.
"What're we gonna do, sir?" Moongoose spoke softly, but hurriedly.
"You heard the man, put down your guns and get off this damn tube."
Dr. Tollison interjected. "Surely, that can't be a good idea, right? After all, this isn't the GOC we know. They could be smaller, or weaker, or—"
"With all due respect, Doctor, I don't give a rat's ass which GOC this is. Odds are, we're outgunned, outnumbered, and not going to be able to outsmart or outshoot the large crowd of guards probably standing not thirty feet from this sub."
The exocosmologist was attempting to reply, but couldn't seem to force any reasonable combination of words through his windpipe. Instead, he clamped his jaw back down and waited for further direction.
"Now, without further ado, let's give these bastards what they're asking for." Speck moved towards the hatch.
"Now you're talking, sir." Snowglobe grinned slightly, almost throwing his weapon back into the storage locker.
Only a glare from his boss kept him from actually doing it.
Mongoose's palms hadn't ceased sweating.
On a low quality display, Researcher Adam Fisher saw three men in light body armor followed by an older man in jeans and a jacket climb out of the dark metal hatch. He switched from feed to feed to feed, intrigued by the unwelcome guests who were being escorted to a cold concrete hallway labeled RPCSS-9 which led to a set of "secure conference rooms". The details behind the euphemism were far above his pay grade, or so he thought.
He found the moment they disappeared behind the thick metal door to be an inopportune time for a to receive a text.
'Get down here. Now.'
It was from Dubois. He could only hope the snappy text was indication of her mood.
"What took you so long, Adam?"
"The control room isn't exactly close to this sector."
"Goddammit. I thought you had been removed from the control room roster."
She muttered something about "fucking HR, fucking schedules" and then brought her attention back to the fellow in front of her scratching his left elbow.
"Well, anyway, I have I new job for you and this one doesn't require the rubber stamp of a bunch of incompetent…" She trailed off in what turned out to be a string of curses and job titles.
Fisher eventually tentatively raised a finger like he was about to interrupt. The distracted Base Commander snapped back to attention before he ever had to mutter a word.
"Go talk to our unwelcome guests then send them back to wherever they came from. The last thing we need is extradimensional prisoners."
"Uuuhhhh, in there?" He pointed a limp finger at the door Dubois was standing in front of.
"Yes. And yes, it's just as scary as you've heard it is." Her sarcasm wasn't exactly subtle.
Dubois half guided, half pulled her subordinate into the hallway before stamping off to her office. She had no time to deal with these sorts of surprises.
It wasn't written into her schedule.
A heavily armed guard led him over to a room marked RPCSS-9-24 and nodded at the guard standing in front RPCSS-9-23. He moved from his post to the inside of RPCSS-9-24 where 3 guards, 3 armored men, and one researcher were. Whatever monstrosity may have resided in RPCSS-9-23 would probably be gone from the room by the time he would be caught from his post anyway. It could be another dimension's problem.
He was right.
Much to Adam Fisher's dismay, he sat down in a regular conference room. Not a prison cell, not a laboratory, not a giant furnace. A conference room with a water dispenser, some leather rolling chairs, and a beautiful wooden table, a table which hosted four far less pretty figures.
"Ah, finally. One of you GOC fuckers who isn't going to point a gun at us. What a breath of fresh—"
"Cut it out." Everyone of the loud one's companions were unamused, especially the flushed sweaty one, Fisher Observed.
"Hello." He cut right to the chase, "If you cooperate in answering our questions, you will be escorted back to your submarine and you will leave."
"And if we don't?" Snowglobe smirked at him.
"We don't have to give you your submarine back before sending you back into the pond from which you came. Now, I see that you know who we are?"
This time Speck responded. "You're the Global Occult Coalition, NATO controlled anomaly destruction organization, correct?"
"Yes, we are, but you just got here. How do you know that?"
"We're the from the Foundation. We fight you, or work with you, or steal from you; depends on the day. I've done 'em all." Mongoose finally spoke up.
"The Foundation? What's that?"
Tollison took on this question. "You don't know?"
"No, I don't."
"Well, where we come from, both your organization and our organization have the same basic goal, capture anomalies, however our organization contains them instead of destroying them. We study them and protect humanity from them without anyone being any the wiser. You should be able to extrapolate more detail from the documents you've inevitably seized from our submersible."
He received a text from Senior Researcher Darrel. 'They're correct. Ask about their mission.' Fisher didn't dare disobey.
"Why are you here? What brought you through the pool?"
Tollison took the reins once again. "We actually had no intention of finding an man inhabit world, but rather were attempting to determine the nature of the pool itsel—."
A massive crash followed by the sound of bending metal came from the outside of the room. A hole appeared in the concrete before them. The guard from RPCSS-9-23 could see that a mangled metal containment door lied where his post was just minutes earlier. A mammalian monster turned around and slammed straight through multiple layers of concrete. Tollison could have sworn he saw an echidna, but was perplexed by its size and strength. Speck, however, didn't much care to know what he had observed and figured this was their one chance to guarantee their departure. That and he could see a little bit of red through the series of holes made by the creature. He gave one subtle hand signal.
The four guards, incredibly distracted and mostly looking away from the seemly cooperative individuals at the table beside them were jumped by the MTFOs.
Some snapping sounds and several gunshots later, six corpses lied on the ground.
Researcher Fisher didn't even put up a fight. Tollison took the knife off of his belt, turned him around, and stabbed him through the neck with it. He had never been more glad extradimensional missions required basic combat certification. Fisher fell down, wide eyed, in a pool of his own blood which was beginning to mix with Mongoose's. Unfortunately for the MTFOs, the fourth guard had managed to draw his pistol and manage one shot before being shot himself, a shot which buried itself in Mongoose's forehead.
Snowglobe, furious, threw the body of his friend over his shoulder and sprinted after the doctor and his boss, who were already nearing the hole in the wall which led out to the submarine.
Narrowly avoiding the colossal spiny animal which had liberated them and even more narrowly avoiding getting shot, they clambered into their submarine and dove back into the pool as swiftly as they could. Speck got them into the water. They were safe.
Snowglobe laid down his friend's corpse. He just stared at it blankly. He had been an MTF for too long. He had no more tears.
The journey back was quieter.
They all ate. They all drank. Tollison and Speck slept.
However, this time no one grinned, this time no one commented on the beauty of the sanguine sea surrounding them, this time no one was nervous about resurfacing, and this time they didn't even realize they had a mission, let alone that they had completed it.
Speck quietly alerted the other two that they were home.
Snowglobe wearily dragged himself out of his sleepless stupor and climbed atop the submarine.
The weather at Area-345
Item #: SCP-426-J
Object Class: Thawmeal
Special Contaynment Proceedurs: I need to be thrown into a 50 x 50 x 50 yd titanium toob filled with SCP-148 and suroundead by nukes. It is covered by a giant Faraday cage and is guarded by Mega Task Force Doubleyou-426 ("The toestest with the mostest").
Descripchun: Heyyyyyyyyyy :3 ! I am SPC-426-J. I am a super speshul toester with super speshul super awesome super powers. I can totally toest stuff with my mind. I'm also a mega docter! MTFO Agent security guard docter accountant Toaster is best friends with all the personal1 and gets all the ladys2. Everyone loves me so much that they just can't stand not pretending to be me all the thyme. I know they do. Definitely. That has to be right. I can't think of a reason why they don't like me.3
I was gotten by the scp foundation after mentally toesting SCP-682 and SCP-173 and SCP-231 and SCP-106 with my mind and stopping the ZKai level world ending from happening. People gave me hugs and I didn't toest anymore stuff.4 I was even made O5-101.5 It was 2cool4me.
Add-on/DLC: Heyyy, heyyy, guiiiiiz. Guiz I totally have some super cool tests that you should totally put on here.
Testing Dog:
Test: A Z-class personal walked into my toob and was told to describe me.
Outcome: I don't remember what he said, but it was definitely about how super cool and speshul I am.
Notes: I know they love me.
Test: A Z-class personal walked into my toob and was told to fall in luv with me.
Outcome: She yelled "I want to make out with me." and ran away crying.
Notes: Definitely tears of joy.
Add-on/DLC: I am too speshul not 2 luv. I am speshul. I am.
Item #: SCP-YYYY
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: All establishments within Clark County, Nevada that could be described as cigar clubs are to be monitored via tapping of pre-existing closed circuit security camera feeds. In the event that an establishment that fits said criteria does not have a functioning security camera feed, a system of fiber optic cameras is to be covertly installed and monitored.
When SCP-YYYY is detected in an establishment, a division of Mobile Task Force Mu-13 ("Ghostbusters") stationed in Clark County, Nevada is to covertly enter the establishment and ensure that no evidence of SCP-YYYY's existence remains.
Description: SCP-YYYY is a group of items and entities that to date, have only appeared in cigar clubs in Clark County, Nevada. SCP-YYYY consists of four armless leather chairs arranged in a square such that the front corners of each chair are contiguous to the front corners of the next, a wooden table that fills the space between the chairs, four glasses of what is believed to be scotch (each one placed on the table immediately in front of a chair), four 10-holed wooden test tube stands that have cigars placed upright in the holes (each one placed on the table immediately in front of a chair), and four speech-capable roosters wearing garments analogous to tuxedos which have been designated SCP-YYYY-1 through SCP-YYYY-4. They refer to each other by the names Reginald, Milton, Howard, and Magnus respectively.
SCP-YYYY can appear in any cigar bar in Clark County, Nevada so long as no direct observers are present. Once
So what am I going to do with my Samsung Corby? I'll tell you what I might do with it.
- Division of document by clearance level.
- Ties to the Charlie Chaplin Movie (The Circus) mobile phone urban legend
- Calendar that loads an entire years worth of dates randomly (possibly multiple clearance level based iterations per load) (I'll see what people who know CSS can do. Troy is convinced that it can be done.)
- Discovery prior to the release of the Samsung Corby (required for Charlie Chaplin angle)
- Some shenanigans with Xyank and time. Maybe a "Xyank knows the answer to " scenario (Perhaps a calendar entry?)
- References to real life disasters
- Generally subtle references to things caused by other skips or K-class events (Activation of 1968 is a notably mindfucky example of the former)
- Have some test logs that are meant to mess with people (A prediction of its own breach, for example)
- Have it originally belong to an established character in the Foundation Universe
- Make it justifiably Thaumiel
- Have it be abused in an effort to help containment
- Do something that contradicts other established stuff for the hell of it (kill 682 is the obvious example) (Still include crosslinks, just be more subtle)
- Do something like the thing in Sal's draft of this idea
- Directly include Sal's author avatar in it (Yes, but don't overdo it. Maybe a couple of calendar entries? His death?)
- Have an O5 speech somewhere in the article (I better do it damn well)
- Include dates on the planner that are 'riddles' from the original owner (No?)
- Include crazy shit for effect (massacres, tragedies, etc.)
Item #: SCP-YYYY
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-YYYY is to be contained within a standard low value storage locker at Site-19. Currently, testing with SCP-YYYY is disallowed due to security concerns. Personnel attempting to access SCP-YYYY will be administered amnestics and transferred to another site.
Description: SCP-YYYY is a black Samsung Corby Pro mobile phone. It is physically identical to non-anomalous models of this device save for markings on the A, L, and S keys on the keypad. Damage is sustained, and a charged battery is required for SCP-YYYY to function.
The Contacts application on SCP-YYYY contains information necessary to contact any living person in some way. Most commonly, it will contain one's e-mail address, phone number, location of residence, or coordinates. The information in the Contacts application updates randomly and is often dated and ineffective when trying to contact individuals.
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STOP. ENTER DECRYPTION KEY NOW.
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MEMETIC KILL SWITCH ACTIVATED. LEVEL 5 CLEARANCE REQUIRED FOR FURTHER INFORMATION.
Item #: SCP-YYYY
Object Class: Thaumiel
Special Containment Procedures: The above documentation is entirely false save for the physical description. The Samsung Corby that is stored at Site-19 is not anomalous, but rather runs a complex algorithm that makes it appear to have massive amounts of contact information. If it were to be carefully analyzed, one could discover that it is not anomalous. It is imperative that the fake SCP-YYYY be given as little attention as possible.
SCP-YYYY is stored at Site-01 in Secured Vault 24, Overwatch Level, Command Wing. The lock is to be powered by four redundant systems at all times. To unlock the vault door, one must simultaneously present the fingerprints and voices of at least seven members of O5 Command. In the event that anyone lacking level 5 clearance gains knowledge of SCP-YYYY, they are treated with class-iota amnestics and permanently barred from the Command Wing of Site-01. If any personnel lacking level 5 clearance attempt to access Secured Vault 24, they are to be terminated immediately.
Anything that is requested for addition to SCP-YYYY's planner must be voted on by the O5 Council. Any and all use of SCP-YYYY is to be performed by O5-2 with at least seven members of the O5 Council present. In the event that O5-2 deviates from approved additions to SCP-YYYY's planner, he/she is to be terminated immediately and O5-3 is to handle SCP-YYYY until a new O5-2 is chosen.
Current containment procedures were implemented following a unanimous vote of the O5 council.
Description: SCP-YYYY is a black Samsung Corby Pro mobile phone. It is physically identical to non-anomalous models of this device save for markings on the A, L, and S keys on the keypad. Damage is not sustained, but a charged battery is required for SCP-YYYY to function.
SCP-YYYY's anomalous effects only become apparent when one tries to use its planner application. No events that have been entered into the planner can be deleted or edited in any way. Only one item can be on the planner per day. Despite all attempts to prevent it or its implausibility, any event entered into SCP-YYYY's planner will happen on the specified date. If planner input is ambiguous or vague, an event will still happen, but what it is will be far less predictable. Once a day starts it becomes impossible to add to it in the planner even if it is empty for that day. The calendar will never clear itself. The first day in the planner application is January 1, 1901. The first day a task was written in the planner was February 24, 1901. The last date recorded by the calendar is December 31, 2041. The last entry is on December 30, 2041. At the time of recovery, the number of entries in the planner was 24429. The number of entries written per year tend to increase as the date gets later.
Addendum YYYY-01: These are some notable dates already entered into SCP-YYYY at the time of its recovery. There are thousands of others, but these ones as a group provide a glimpse into the of the habits of SCP-YYYY's former owner.
2/24/1901 | Happy 19th Birthday to me! |
6/30/1908 | |
1/6/1928 | This device will appear in the silent cinema. |
5/6/1937 | Fire will rain from the sky, burning down a whole industry in its wake. |
cell-content | cell-content |
cell-content | cell-content |
2/24/1999 | I will die. Rest In Peace. |
cell-content | cell-content |
cell-content | |
11/3/2009 | The Samsung Corby Pro will finally be released to the public. May whoever has this have a better time hiding it than I did. |
cell-content | cell-content |
Item Sign: SCP-2323
Object kind: Keter (high priority)
Special Containment Directions: SCP-2323 can be stored in any or all sections of any area or site. When within sight, all are to proclaim SCP-2323's glory and light.
THIS IS THE TAG FOR THE TITLE PAGE
"And this is the episode"
Written by
You
EVERY OTHER PAGE
"Gets this tag"
FADE IN:
EXT. LOCATION #1 - DAY
If your show requires a pre-credits Teaser, then indicate it like this. All Teasers and Acts must begin with FADE IN: followed by a scene heading. Scene headings are typed in capitals and must indicate: interior or exterior, the location, and day or night.
INT. LOCATION #2 - NIGHT
Begin a new scene with the heading triple-spaced from the preceding scene. Always follow a scene heading with a line of scene action.
CHARACTER #1 (Use this one for char names and dialogue)
Character names appear in capitals indented to around the middle of the page, but not centered. A character is designated by either their first or last name, but a role designation may be used instead with personal titles abbreviated. The designated name should remain consistent throughout the script. Dialogue appears under the character name in regular text. Similarly, it is not centered.
Close each tag when you are done with a section.
Item #: # 2124
Class Of Object Class: Thaumiel
Special Containment Procedures For Containment:
Loading SCPM.SYS
SCP/M-88 for the Foundation PC, Vers. 2.4
Secure Control Program for Microcomputers
LEVEL 2 Clearance Required
Please Input ID Number :
ID Accepted
Please input password :
*
Password Accepted
Welcome : O5-8
D>a :
A>o :
O5 Authorization Required
Failure Will Resort in Site Lockdown
Does the Black Moon Howl?
Processing Answer…
Processing Complete
Welcome to the O5 Directory
Hello : 8
O>m :
Disk Sealed by : O5-8 on February 24, 1976
Open disk? (Y/N)
Y
Welcome to AIAD
M>DIR M : *.LOG
Time is wasting
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX is contained entirely within
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Fucking hell, I've never bought into this SEKT bullshit anyway. How the fuck are those made up words supposed to help me now? Let's just say that you're going to be dicked if you try to lock this shit up and call it Keter. Have fun using "standard Keter protocol" or whatever shit's in your damn arsenal on this fucker.
Special Containment Procedures: NEXT TIME (and I know you bureaucratic pencil pushing fucks aren't going to give up after just one lost MTF), do some goddamn unmanned scouting. Or wait, just wait, how about this novel concept? Glass it. Maybe if you ever got off your fat asses and saw the shit you throw at us, you'd see how fucked your idealism actually is. Maybe, just maybe, you'd see that some things shouldn't have existed, shouldn't exist, and shouldn't keep existing.
And this is one of them.
For any damned soul left in Site-242 at this point, find the nuke. Find the damn nuke. I know that the high ups hem and haw about nuclear protocol and all that jazzy bullshit, but the truth is that every site has a self destruct button somewhere (you learn some crazy shit in the field, eh?) (also, you naive shits ought to have learned how to do internal secrecy by now). This one's is embedded under 1974's containment chamber. No one in their right mind would want to spend even a fucking minute there, right?
Description: Even with a goddamn lifetime supply of red tape,
Item: SCP-3074
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-3074 is to be monitored remotely at all times via CCTV feed transmitted to Site-242. If
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: It is believed that SCP-XXXX can't be contained.
Any personnel believed to be under the influence of SCP-XXXX are to be terminated by means of sedation and Class-C amnestic administration followed by cremation. All documents and digital storage belonging to affected personnel are to be destroyed by members of MTF-XXXX under the protocol outlined in COGHZD-XXXX-Ouroborus.
Description: SCP-XXXX is a college-ruled 21.59cm x 27.94cm sheet of paper which is believed to have "I just want to go home" written on it 66 times (twice per line over 33 lines) in blue pen.
SCP-XXXX periodically manifests itself inside of unrelated Foundation files. There is no known pattern in timing and location of its appearances, and no link has been drawn between those who have previously discovered instances of SCP-XXXX.
Individuals visually exposed to SCP-XXXX
[Fuck this is supposed to be in a box but I forgot how to make one of those]
This section will be longer, and the first line will most likely not be right above the rest, which are all probably concurrent.
"It is wondering where the time has gone before it's actually gone anywhere.
It is that voice in your head telling you that the universe is conspiring against you.
It is that same voice reminding you that no one cares enough to conspire against you.
It's that voice telling you that you deserve it.
It's your voice reminding you that you're insane.
Soon, we will welcome you home."