- Intro Page
- It's Not Pronounced Hero
- Signals
- Lighthouses
- Excerpts from "Postmodern Parahistory"
- Spirit of the Radio
- Finding Nemo
- Moving Pictures V3
- Moving Pictures — V2
- Moving Pictures — V1
- Custodes Snippets
- The Wings of Daedalus
- Daedalus Tale
- Post-Incident Analysis: Long-term Effects of CERULEAN FISSURE
- Time Capsule
- Attention-Seeking Antimeme
- Sir Alfred Munster, the Monster Who Lives Under Your Bed (V2)
- Sir Alfred Munster, the Monster Who Lives Under Your Bed (V1)
- Mr. Mint
- Ghost Laser
- Black Hole Battery
- Transformed Lycanthropes
- "Known to cause cancer to the State of California."
- Gourmet Literature Critic
- Condiment Breach
- Audio Misguide
- RESTRICTED INFORMATION
This page holds all of my drafts which I have decided to scrap for one reason or another. They are preserved here in the hope that someone, possibly myself, possibly someone else, will decide to pick them up again and rewrite them. If you decide that you want to try rewriting one of these, my only request is that you let me know first.
DRAFTS ON THIS PAGE
Name | Article Type | Notes |
---|---|---|
It's Not Pronounced Hero | Tale | JOVE struggles to stop Scarlet Hammer from restarting the Cypriot War. |
Signals | Tale | Myra Rider and Bastien Lachance discuss the finer points of Maxwellism and the Silicon Nornir. |
Lighthouses | Tale | Tale about the Lighthouse Mafia. |
Postmodern Parahistory | Outline | Orientation tales for Third Law. |
Spirit of the Radio | Tale | Transcript for a Three Portlands radio show. |
Finding Nemo | Tale | GRU-P hunts down the PL submarine Nemo. |
Moving Pictures (Old) | Tale | A pair of UIU agents investigate an anart theft. |
Custodes Snippets | Snippets | Snippets regarding Protocol Custodes. |
The Wings of Daedalus | Tale | ISV Daedalus tale – deleted and moved to sandbox for rewriting. |
Unnamed Daedalus Tale | Tale | ISV Daedalus tale |
Post-Incident Analysis: Long-term Effects of CERULEAN FISSURE | Tale | Foundation incident report on the immediate aftermath of the PL breakup. |
Time Capsule | Skip | The future Foundation from an alternate timeline sends a thing back in time to get rid of it. The thing is simultaneously its own documentation. Going to be redeveloped soon. |
Attention-Seeking Antimeme | Skip | An antimeme causes problems around a Site in an attempt to garner attention. |
Sir Alfred Munster, the Monster Who Lives Under Your Bed (V2) | Skip | A very polite monster who lives under your bed and is also a knight. |
Sir Alfred Munster, the Monster Who Lives Under Your Bed (V1) | Skip | A very overprotective monster who lives under your bed and is also a knight. |
Mr. Mint | Skip | Little Mister in mint condition. |
Ghost Laser | PL Goi format | Ghost powered laser. |
Black Hole Battery | PL GOI Format | PL proposal to uss black holes to generate power. |
Transformed Lycanthropes | GOC GOI Format | GOC casefile on lycanthropy. |
"Known to cause cancer to the State of California." | Tale | Intended to be a slice-of-life tale about a Foundation Containment Specialist dealing with a giant tumor growing out of the California landscape. |
Gourmet Literature Critic | Skip | A man who eats words, and then critiques them like food. |
Condiment Breach | -J | Exactly what it says on the tin. |
Audio Misguide | Skip | An audio guide that gives tours to museums in other times, places, and universes. Being redeveloped in the main WIP sandbox. |
RESTRICTED INFORMATION | Skip | A thing that replaces redacted information with synonyms. |
22:17:58 <GreenWolf> ihpkmn: what I really want to do right now is write a tale about Incident Shattered Gyro, cutting back and forth between relatively dry JOVE AARs and then fast-paced narrative action segments
22:18:35 <ihpkmn> GreenWolf: see, you say "Shattered Gyro" and all I can think of is Steel Ball Run.
22:18:36 <GreenWolf> all detailing the massive clusterfuck that is 5 different agencies all trying to work together to stop former Soviet spies from turning Cyprus into a smouldering crater
22:20:23 <GreenWolf> oh man, and I just came up with the perfect title
22:20:33 <GreenWolf> "It's Not Pronounced Hero"
JOVE Operations Report
Incident Shattered Gyro
Sometime in 2006
Involved Agencies: Global Occult Coalition (UN), British Occult Service (UK), National Intelligence Service (Greece), GRU-P (Russia)
- Anderson Goes To Eurtec
- Probably not actually Anderson the man. cyborg. robot.
- Unless this is pre-Austringers?
- Talk w/ Conwell re: timeline
- Unless this is pre-Austringers?
- Planning expansion into Eurtec
- Building permits, business deals, etc…
- Brings a bunch of AR employees
- Includes Myra & Alexis
- Myra not invited to participate in talks with the Nornir b/c religious intolerance
- Probably not actually Anderson the man. cyborg. robot.
- Coffeeshop
- Not Starbucks
- Also Not Not Another Fucking Starbucks
- French transhumanist (SotSN) cyborg living in Eurtec
- He does marketing
- Bastien (rhymes with yawn) Lachance
- Debate the finer points of transhuman religion
- Figure out finer points of transhuman religion
- So much chrome
- Too much chrome
- Unbelievable amounts of chrome
- Too much chrome
- Few/no Maxwellists in Eurtec
- Hivemind silent
- How do international borders work vis a vis pocket dimensions?
- French paranormal agency (might come up)
[ARRIVAL IN EURTEC]
[ANDERSON AND THE SPEAKER]
[Write more words]
"Madam Speaker, it is, um, an honor to meet you."
"Mister Anderson. Your reputation proceeds you."
"Only, uh, good things, I hope?"
"No." "Be aware that if you or your associates attempt to use thaumaturgy, or make any move to attack our person, you will be terminated with extreme prejudice."
"Uh, understood."
"Good. Now that we're clear where we stand, perhaps you could explain why we should grant the permits you seek, by telling us what your company can bring to Eurtec."
Myra Rider decided that she didn't like Eurtec. It was too clean, too chrome. It lacked life and, more importantly, it lacked any decent coffee shops.
She was sitting in the corner of a nameless coffee and oil shop, nursing one of the poorer lattes she had tasted, when a man with highly-visible prosthetics approached her.
"Mind if I sit down?" He asked. His accent was noticeably French.
She shrugged.
Interpreting this as a yes, he took a seat on the stool next to her, placing his tray down on the table.
"I'm Bastien Lachance," he said, rhyming the first name with yawn. "I do marketing."
"Myra Rider," she replied. "Cybernetics research."
Bastien was silent for a moment, taking some time to take a few bites from his bagel.
"So," he said, setting the bagel down. "I'm guessing you are from Three Portlands. Yes?"
Myra frowned. "Is my accent really that distinctive?"
"No, but the Anderson logo on your sleeve is."
She laughed lightly. "Right, forgot about that."
The conversation paused again, as they each took a moment to sip from their drinks.
"What do you think of Eurtec?" Bastien asked. "Magnificent, isn't it?"
Myra hesitated, using her latte to buy enough time to formulate an answer that wouldn't offend. "It's certainly impressive, to say the least. But I think I prefer Three Ports. It's too quiet here."
"Too quiet? Really?"
She shook her head. "Ah, you wouldn't understand, it's a Maxwellist thing."
He looked at her curiously. "You mean there is no hivemind here."
"Yeah." Now it was her turn to look bemused. "Yeah. Except it's not a hivemind. I don't know why people keep calling it a hivemind."
"What would you call it?"
"A communal interchange of thought."
"That seems like a purely semantic distinction."
Myra sighed. "God, you sound just like Alex." She turned her stool so that she was fully facing him. "Look, I don't know what you've heard about Maxwellism, but it's not like that."
"Perhaps you should enlighten me, then," he said levelly.
"Maybe I should," she replied. She paused, then sheepishly said, "What exactly have you heard about Maxwellism, anyways?"
Bastien took another sip of coffee before responding. "I've heard that you're transhumanists who seek to connect everyone in a global hivemind — apologies, I meant interchange of thought — in order to create a god."
She frowned. "Well, I suppose that's close to the truth, but it still manages to miss the important parts." She paused again, then said, "Alright, so, two points. First, it really isn't a hivemind. Maxwellism is all about individuality, and a single gestalt intelligence kind of undermines that. It's more like… it's like a chatroom, or a forum, but with thoughts instead of words."
"Wouldn't the signal to noise ratio of such a thing be abysmally low?"
"The whole network isn't confined to a single 'room'. At any one time, you're generally only in direct contact with a handful of people."
Bastien nodded. "Makes sense. What was the second point?"
"Oh, well, we're not trying to create a god. We're trying to recreate one." Seeing his confused expression, she continued. "Our God is a Broken God. We believe that God exists in a fragmented form, and that these fragments are found within everyone. By networking our thoughts together, we can rebuild God out of our connected pieces."
Bastien blinked. "I… see."
Myra shrugged. "Hey, you asked." She downed the rest of her coffee and stood up. "I'm going to get another, you want anything?"
"I think I'll finish the one I have first."
Myra shrugged again. "Suit yourself.
[ANDERSON AND THE SPEAKER SPEAK SOME MORE]
[COFFEESHOP PART DEUX]
[PHINEAS SAVES EVERYONE PROBABLY MAYBE]
[COFFEESHOP 3: LIVE FREE OR DECAF]
[FIN]
Lighthouses are one of the many oddities of Three Portlands.
There is no ocean in the city's pocket universe. Even if there was, it wouldn't be navigable. The city is surrounded by an invisible, mayorally-imposed barrier which prevents passage by everything except buildings, which gradually drift outwards as the city expands. Beyond this boundary is the uninhabited Outer Periphery, full of abandoned structures which deconceptualize one-by-one, vanishing into the Outside like boxes falling off a conveyor belt. Farther out, the city itself simply ceases — there is no defined border between Three Portlands and the Outside, merely a blurry half-world where reality fades into nothing.
There are exceedingly few seafaring vessels which can safely traverse the conceptual void of the Outside, although the nature of the multiverses means that the number of such ships is a small infinity.
Despite this, lighthouses are prolific in Three Portlands. Albeit, there are very few actual lighthouses — there are ten within the city, and all of them are metaphysical shadows of lighthouses located on Earth, made manifest in the pocket universe by their innate reality anchoring properties. However, lighthouses as a symbol are nearly omnipresent. You can find them in the names of businesses and streets; logographic lighthouses are painted onto buildings and signs; the most popular radio station goes by the call-sign "The Lighthouse"; even the city's flag has a lighthouse on it.
No one can explain the city's fixation on lighthouses, but this association has turned it into an undeniable symbol of Three Portlands — more so than even the rose, which it shares with Portland, Oregon.
Taken from this symbol is the name of the Lighthouse Mafia.
October 27th, 2017
Three Portlands
"Happy birthday."
Robin Thorne looked up to see their partner smiling down at them over a small cardboard box.
Thorne forced a weak smile to their face as they took the box from Spencer. "Thanks Ken."
A bunch of orientation style tales for Third Law, framed as chapters from L. Rowe's "Postmodern Parahistory".
Chapter Ideas
- Paralaw
- The Veil Accords (First, Second, Third, Fourth?)
- Hoover Mandate & Howard-Grant Agreement
- Köln Agreement
- Paraweapon Cessation Treaty
- Kaliningrad Geas Standard
- Paratech Regulation & Anart Restrictions
- Veiled Justice System
- Paranormal Freeports
- Three Portlands
- Backdoor Soho
- Eurtec
- New Avalon
- Development of the Freeport System
- Consensus Normalcy
- What it is
- Who determines it
- The Occult Wars
- Pre-modern Occult Wars
- 6th
- 7th
- Cold War Arms Race
- 8th and Beyond
- Paranormal Renaissance
- Golden Age of Normalcy
- Development of Parascience
Hello Portlands, and welcome back to Radio 3Port, broadcasting to you dead or alive from this exact moment in time. I'm Oscar Griffin, and I'm the guy who'll be talking at you for the next twenty minutes.
On today's program, we'll be discussing [stuff]. But first, the weather.
Once again, it is overcast in our fair city, with an eighty percent chance of light showers and forecasts showing no end in sight for this most recent streak of gloomy weather. The temperature today is a chilly forty degrees Fahrenheit — for our British listeners, that's a little over four degrees Celsius — with highs in the low forties and lows in the high thirties. My advice? Get some coffee. Those little to-go cups aren't insulated very well, so they make great hand warmers.
Moving on to local news, this morning the Office of the Mayor issued another notice about littering, decrying the practice as a societal ill and public health hazard. The Mayor's Office has asked us to remind listeners that littering is against the law, and that violators "will suffer greatly" — their words, not mine. The penalty for littering is a fine of up to five hundred American dollars — in non-sequential bills — as well as ten hours of community service or two hours of public shaming.
Here, I am required by law to inform our listeners that I myself have committed the shameful act of littering, for which I deserve scorn and derision.
[Silence for a moment.]
Moving swiftly on.
A scrap golem escaped from the Reconstruction last night, triggering yet another investigation of the notorious anart workshop by agents of the FBI's Unusual Incidents Unit. At this time, the golem is still at large — listeners in the vicinity of 12th Street and Turing Boulevard should be on the lookout for the rogue construct. According to its creator, local anartist F. Sharp, the golem is approximately seven feet tall and made entirely out of almost three-hundred recycled soda cans. If you see it, or have any information regarding its location, please contact Agent Robin Thorne of the Unusual Incidents Unit.
Wow, and right after the littering thing too. Talk about bad timing, huh? Depending on the exact wording of the city's littering statute, that could be as many as three-hundred individual violations, which my producer is telling me would be one-hundred fifty thousand dollars worth of fines. Not to mention the community service and/or public shaming hours. For F. Sharp's sake, let's hope the city decides to charge them with a reckless act of public thaumaturgy instead.
Wednesday, September 2, 1998
Arctic Ocean, North of Svalbard
The Arctic Ocean is a world of dualities and dichotomies. The white ice and the black water. The endless day of summer and the long night of winter. The vast plain of ice, devoid of all life except the bears, separated from a small but thriving underwater ecosystem by mere feet.
Now, something floated up from the depths beneath the ice, surrounded by a cloud of bubbles and trailing a silver thread. It smacked against the ice, bounced off of it – once, twice, thrice – before coming to rest in a small bowl-shaped depression.
A nearby ringed seal broke off its pursuit of a school of arctic cod and swam over to investigate this new thing. The world beneath the ice was as monotonous as it was cold, and novelty was a concept almost as foreign to the seal as the object it was now investigating.
The seal prodded the thing curiously with its nose, only to dart away in a panic as it released another cloud of bubbles.
Unperturbed by these events, the thing slowly sank until it came to a stop a few feet below the ice. A pair of floodlights flickered on, casting lances of light across the bottom of the ice sheet. A propeller whirred to life, and the thing began to slowly swim forwards.
Five hundred feet below, at the other end of the silver thread, a much larger shape was drifting through the depths.
"Ice probe reports successful deployment, Captain."
Captain Katrine Andersen nodded, faking enthusiasm. She had eagerly accepted command of the Nemo in the hopes that she would get a chance to push the submarine to its limits testing some new piece of experimental paratech, but so far they had only conducted routine research expeditions. And while she was sure that someone back on dry land would find the data they were collecting absolutely fascinating, she only found the process to be boring.
"Put a hundred feet of slack on the reel and let it go. We'll drift behind it in the current."
"Aye aye, ma'am."
She sighed quietly. This was going to be a long trip.
Wednesday, September 2, 1998
GRU Headquarters, Moscow
Colonel Arkadi Petrovich Krupin had a headache.
For the past four years he had run the team responsible for the Division's efforts to monitor and infilitrate Prometheus Labs – a team that had steadily dwindled in size as the Division shifted more and more of its resources to combatting the growing anomalous black market within Russia and the former Soviet Bloc. Over the last few months, his operatives embedded within Prometheus had talked of the impending dissolution of the conglomerate. They had been prepared for the breakup.
They hadn't been prepared for this.
Yesterday evening, mere hours after the dissolution of the conglomerate was completed, a… something – he didn't know what – had destroyed the headquarters of the newly independent Prometheus Defense. At least three dozen people had been killed, including half the board of directors and one of his two operatives at the facility, and dozens of more people had been injured. His remaining operative had only had time to inform him that Foundation and Coalition forces were already descending upon the facility – or at least, what was left of it – before going dark.
Meanwhile, he was now receiving reports that the remaining facilities of Prometheus Defense had initiated lockdown procedures, sealing themselves off from the outside world – and sealing his operatives inside. Half his network was now dark, at a time when he most needed information from it.
He rubbed his temples gingerly as he read through the handful of fragmented reports he had received. It was clear to him that Prometheus Defense would be dismantled. The Foundation and the Coalition would raid its remaining facilities and seize what assets they could, then destroy the rest. If he was very lucky, none of his operatives would be captured. But the odds of any of them making it out with anything more than scraps of research were minimal.
He slammed a fist down upon his desk, sending several papers flying from the force of the blow. Years of work spent infilitrating the company at every level, all about to go to waste. It would mean the end of his team, and probably his career as well.
Sighing in resignation, he started collecting the papers that had fallen on the floor. As he glanced at the first one, however, a sentence jumped out at him.
01/09/98: Advanced research submarine Nemo departs from a Prometheus Defense facility in Svalbard on a week-long survey of the polar ice sheets.
He pushed a button on his phone. "Get me Admiral Kuroyedov."
Thursday, September 3, 1998
Walter Herbet Arctic Exploration Outpost, Svalbard
[GRU-P Spetsnaz raid Svalbard facility, seize control of it.]
Friday, September 4, 1998
Northern Fleet Headquarters, Severomorsk
[Task force launches in pursuit of Nemo.]
The two agents plodded down the empty street.
No city ever truly sleeps — there are always those who, through whim or through work, are awake during the hours of the night. But at this moment, Three Portlands was hibernating. The vendors and performers who worked the streets wouldn't be out for another hour, and it would be another more before the thoroughfares clogged with foot traffic.
It didn't take long for the two figures to reach their destination, This Gallery Kills Fascists. The curator was waiting for them outside.
"Mr. Vlandersloon?" The lead figure asked, reaching into his jacket to remove his badge. "I'm Agent Kenneth Spencer and this is Agent Robin Thorne. You reported a break-in?"
The curator nodded. "Yes, thank you for coming agents." His accent had been largely eroded away by decades living in Three Portlands, but there was still a trace of Boston in it.
"Was anything stolen?" Spencer asked. Thorne had already pulled a notebook from their pocket and stood poised to take notes.
"Well, no, you see, that's the thing—"
Spencer cut him off with a gesture. "Nothing was stolen."
"No, but—"
"Mr. Vlandersloon, you're aware that the Bureau's time is valuable, yes?" He didn't wait for an answer. "If nothing was stolen, why involve us? Trespassing is under the city's jurisdiction."
"Because they left something behind!"
Spencer stared at the curator. "Excuse me?"
"The thieves, they added a piece to the exhibit!"
Spencer sighed. Another waste of time. He was about to tell the curator to call the city police instead when Thorne stepped past him and said, "Could you show us?"
The curator bobbed his head frantically. "Yes, yes, of course. This way." He turned and darted into the gallery.
Spencer glared at his partner. "We don't have time for this, Thorne. It's just another punk anartist trying to get some notoriety by breaking into an art gallery. We've both seen it before."
Thorne returned his gaze, their expression calm. "And what if it's not? It could be a coghaz, or a memetic bomb, or a door to hell. There's a Manna fundraising event here later today. You want to leave it in there without checking to make sure it's not dangerous?"
Spencer sighed. "Point taken." He turned to look at the gallery. "Shades?"
Thorne nodded, removing a pair of sunglasses from their jacket. "Might as well. Vlandersloon got a look at it and he's still walking around, but better to not take chances."
Spencer donned his own pair of glasses, then proceeded to follow the curator into the gallery with Thorne close behind.
The agents found the curator standing in front of an unassuming and rather bland impressionist-style painting, depicting a sunrise which updated in real time. Even by the standards of conventional art, it would be considered boring.
"Still think it's a memetic bomb?" Spencer asked.
"No." Thorne frowned and took a few steps closer, then waved their hand over the painting and muttered something undecipherable. "Still… something isn't right about this. The aura is all wrong — this thing's at least a decade old, maybe more."
"But… who would want to break in here to install old art?" The curator asked.
Spencer nodded thoughtfully. "I think it's time to call in an expert."
Kenneth Spencer stood staring at the empty wall, his arms crossed and expression neutral. A burnished brass plaque mounted at shoulder-height proudly declared the missing painting to be "Siberian Zeitgeists" by B. Vlandersloon. If he hadn't already known Vlandersloon's reputation as an artist, he might have thought the blank wall to actually be the piece. It wouldn't have been the first time someone had done so.
"Have you informed Mr. Vlandersloon yet?" Behind him and slightly to his left, his partner — Robin Thorne — was questioning the gallery curator.
"Not yet," the curator said, a ghost of a Bostonian accent in his speech. He was a lanky, bespectacled man, with oily black hair. "I'm sure you know how… reclusive, he is. It could be several days before we can contact him."
Ken knew without looking that Thorne would be nodding in assent. "Do you have any idea where he might be right now?"
The curator hummed quietly for a moment, then said, "Word is that he was spotted in Backdoor Soho a couple days ago."
The sound of a pen scratching across paper could be heard as Thorne wrote this down. "We'll tell the New York guys to be on the lookout for him."
Ken turned away from the blank wall and stepped towards the center of the room, where a ring of broken glass surrounded the circle of light spilling in from the shattered skylight. Crouching down outside the ring, he gently picked up one of the translucent shards in a gloved hand. The razor-sharp rhombus glinted wickedly as it caught the rays of the sun. Dozens of more glass diamonds glittered on the ground.
He leaned back on his heels and studied the circle. The obvious assumption to be made was that the skylight had been broken from the outside and fallen inwards — but if that was the case, why had the glass shards formed a nearly symmetrical ring around the area directly below the skylight? Not only that, but why were they all the same shape?
Curious.
"
Kenneth Spencer stared at the empty pedestal, arms crossed and gaze inquisitive.
The statue was definitely missing.
"This was the only piece they took?" He asked. Standing next to him, his partner, Robin Thorne, was taking notes of the conversation.
"Yes." The gallery curator was a lanky, bespectacled man, with oily black hair and a faint Bostonian accent. "Nothing else was even budged. Well, except for the skylight."
The three of them were standing in the circle of glass shards that had fallen around the pedestal when said skylight had been broken.
Kenneth nodded slowly. He cast his gaze towards the floor, studying the pieces of fractured glass. The shards were all the same shape and size.
"I'd like to take a look at the roof, if that's possible," he said after a moment.
The curator bobbed his head. "This way."
The curator lead the two FBI agents to the back of the gallery, where he pushed aside a curtain to reveal a maintenance door. He unlocked and opened the door, revealing a dimly lit stairwell which he began climbing.
Bits and pieces of stuff regarding WATCHDOG, Protocol Custodes, and Analytics Department that didn't make it into 2897. Most of this will get recycled into Dividends.
Overview of WATCHDOG Operations
WATCHDOG is the primary intelligence gathering program of the Department of Analytics and the Foundation's main means of detecting anomalies. It encompasses numerous different forms of intelligence and utilizes a wide variety of sources and sensors, including, but not limited to:
- Satellite intelligence from the Visual Reconnaissance Orbiter Network (ViRON), Infrared Imaging Satellites (IRIS), Neutron Emissions Recorder Orbiter (NERO), and Aspect Radiation Earth Surveyor (ARES) satellite constellations
- Signals intelligence from wiretaps of major telephone and internet communications cables, intercepts of civilian and military radio broadcasts, and datamining of the computer systems of national intelligence agencies
- Seismological and meteorological data from geological and weather monitoring agencies
- Financial data from world stock exchanges and government records
- Esoteric intelligence produced by paratech and anomalous assets, including precognitive persons, retrocausal messages, oracles and prophecies, psychics and mediums, demonic entities, and Thaumiel-class objects
WATCHDOG does not involve the operations of the Department of Analytics' Statistical Prediction and Informational Security Divisions, nor does it include intelligence gathered by the Foundation's Intelligence Directorate.
Addendum 2897.4 Automated Addendum — Activation of Protocol Custodes
As of 2022-07-01, Protocol Custodes is now active. All information regarding Protocol Custodes has been reclassified L1/Analytics.
The following measures regarding SCP-2897 and WATCHDOG are currently being implemented by Bravo-3:
- WATCHDOG is being expanded to include any and all available sources of intelligence
- SCP-2897 has been retasked to locate members of rogue factions within the Foundation
- Information sharing with other Foundation departments has been temporarily suspended
Additionally, if at any time the capture of SCP-2897 by a rogue Foundation faction becomes imminent, SCP-2897 is to be destroyed rather than letting it fall into enemy hands.
A Message Regarding Protocol Custodes
Protocol Custodes is a contingency measure authorized by O5-3, to be activated in the event that one or more members of the O5 Council go rogue. Protocol Custodes tasks the Department of Analytics with seizing control of the Foundation and replacing any rogue O5s with individuals loyal to the Foundation and its goals.
If you are reading this, then Protocol Custodes has been activated. If you have not already been briefed on the exact details of the situation, you will be soon. What is essential to know right now though is this: the responsibility of continuing the Foundation's mission of protecting normalcy now falls to the Department of Analytics.
Director of Analytics, Simon Pietrykau
Monday, October 27, 1997
91 Days Until Launch
Prometheus Laboratories Corporate Headquarters
"What are you building at Herculina?"
There were many things that Rebecca Arkwright disliked. Missed deadlines. Wasted resources. The fish sandwich served in the company cafeteria on Thursdays.
Near the top of that list was the woman who currently sat across from her. Sylvia Thorne. GOC Special Observer to Prometheus Laboratories, and general nuisance.
"I'm sorry, I'm not sure what you're referring to," she said, keeping her expression blank. She had a lot of practice in doing so. It was an expression she used everytime she met with Thorne.
"Don't bullshit me, Arkwright. Prometheus is doing something to that rock that's making it glow hard gamma."
She cursed inwardly. Of course the GOC would have a gamma ray telescope looking at the asteroid belt, and of course it would be in just the right spot to see the gamma rays being emitted by the Daedalus's Darius drive.
"As you are aware, Miss Thorne, the black hole left over from Project Abyss – which, I might remind you, we terminated at the request of your organization – the black hole is located inside asteroid Herculina, and is still emitting Hawking radiation in the form of gamma rays." It was a good lie, almost the truth even, except for the critical detail that the gamma rays being emitted by said black hole were all being absorbed by the heavy rock of Herculina.
"Really? Then how do you explain this?" Thorne placed a manila folder onto the table and slid it over to Rebecca.
Despite knowing exactly what she would find inside the folder, she was still surprised to see the picture – highly pixelated, but still recognizable – of the Daedalus orbiting Herculina.
She sighed. They had known they couldn't hide the Daedalus from the GOC and the Foundation until launch. But she had always hoped they would be lucky this time. Apparently not.
"Why, I do believe that's a starship, Miss Thorne. One which will launch in three months." She paused, then said, "Whether the GOC has a presence aboard that vessel when it launches is up to you."
Friday, October 31, 1997
87 Days Until Launch
Site 138
"– got word from PL yesterday that they've built a starship powered by a blackhole. O5 wants to know if it's legitimate." Kenneth Hayward explained to the man walking next to him.
Doctor Andre Shepard was one of the Foundation's leading experts in space-based anomalies, which meant that he often ended up answering these kinds of questions.
"Probably. Preliminary data from GRAD-2 confirms that something at Herculina is spitting out gamma. We'll have visual confirmation in about a week once F-STAR is recalibrated. Do we know what they plan to do with it?"
"The stated mission is a multi-decade long exploration of nearby star systems. They've asked us to send someone along in an advisorial position in case they encounter any anomalies. We've agreed."
"Who are we sending?"
"You."
Monday, November 10, 1997
77 Days Until Launch
London Business Offices of Marshall, Carter and Dark, LLP
The man stared at the painting with an appraising eye.
"Tell me about this piece."
"The paints are pathosensitive. The painting changes depending on your mood."
It had taken Quinton Wright seven months to create this particular work of anart, most of which had been spent sitting in front of a blank canvas trying to decide what to do. The only thing that had finally motivated him to paint something was the lure of forty thousand pounds offered by Marshall, Carter and Dark, which would cover his procrastination expenses for the next year.
"Interesting. What mood does the empty easel represent?"
"Greed."
"Interesting." The man said again. He nodded. "Forty thousand, as agreed. We'll be able to fetch a good price for this at the Christmas auction." He sat down behind his desk and began filling out a cheque. "Have you ever thought of painting the stars, Quinton?"
The question surprised Quinton. In all his years of dealing with this man, he had never known him to engage in such small talk.
"I've painted a few starscapes."
The man shook his head. "No, not starscapes. The stars."
"I'm afraid I don't get your meaning."
The man sighed. "Let me be more direct. Prometheus Labs has contracted us to sell tickets for extra berths on an interstellar vessel they are building." Quinton began to say something, but the man held up a hand to silence him. "Let me finish. Now, while the cost of these tickets is far beyond your price range, we would be willing to pay the cost for an anartist of your talents… in exchange for the rights to any works produced during the voyage." He paused to let this sink in. "So, with that in mind, let me ask you again:
"Do you want to paint the stars?"
Monday, November 24, 1997
63 Days Until Launch
The Estate of Lucius Darby
"The mail, sir."
Lucius Darby took the proffered letters. "Thank you, Jameson," he said, dismissing the servant with a wave of his hand. Shuffling through them, he immediately noticed the envelope stamped and sealed with the distinctive logo of Marshall, Carter and Dark.
He opened it.
Dear Lucius Darby,
We are pleased to offer to you the opportunity to purchase a space on an interstellar spaceship being constructed by Prometheus Laboratories. This vessel will explore the galaxy, visiting worlds and stars unknown, discovering strange and exciting phenomena, and seeing sights never before seen by any man or woman.
Through our association with Prometheus Laboratories, we have obtained tickets for five extra berths on this starship. Four of these tickets remain available. A silent auction will be held for them in one week, on the first of December. The starting bid for each ticket is £200.000.000.
In order to maintain confidentiality, this letter, and the knowledge contained within, has been sealed with a thaumaturgic geas preventing its disclosure to unauthorized individuals. This geas will expire in six months. We apologise for any inconvenience this may cause you.
We look forward to your business,
Peter Duval, writing on behalf of Messrs. Marshall, Carter and Dark
Monday, January 26, 1998
Launch Day
ISV Daedalus (Orbiting Asteroid (532) Herculina)
Captain Hiram Douglas watched the video of his ship on the main monitor. One of the construction drones had been repurposed into an observation drone and placed several kilometers behind the Daedalus in its orbit around Herculina, in order to record the launch event for posterity, and was now feeding video to the ship and the control center in Herculina.
Almost a million metric tons, half a kilometer long, and over two billion dollars. The Daedalus was a pinnacle of human engineering and ingenuity. But he still couldn't shake the feeling that it looked like a giant octopus. That is, if octopodes were made of metal, lived in space, and powered by black holes.
He leaned forward and spoke into the radio. "Herculina Control, this is ISV Daedalus actual, requesting final clearance on launch."
«Daedalus, this is Herculina, what is your system status?»
"All systems are a GO, Herculina."
«Copy that. You are cleared to launch in ten.»
"Launching in ten. Beginning countdown now."
The radio was silent then.
Outer Solar System
ISV Daedalus – Observation Deck
1 Day Since Launch
"Miss Thorne?"
The GOC agent turned away from the viewing screen towards the source of this noise, finding herself face-to-face with a short, glasses-wearing man with light brown hair.
"Can I help you?"
"I'm Dr. Andre Shepard," he said earnestly. "I'm the Foundation observer."
She raised an eyebrow. She had known that there was a Foundation scientist aboard the vessel, but hadn't yet had time to track him down. Apparently, he had decided to save her the time.
"My question still stands, Doctor. Is there something you want?"
He seemed taken aback by this response. "No. Well, yes, I suppose." He sighed, taking a moment to recollect his thoughts. "What I mean is, doesn't this whole thing seem odd to you?"
"How so?"
"Look, you were the GOC observer to Prometheus for years – don't look so surprised, you know the GOC spies on us back – you were the observer to Prometheus for years. In all that time, did they ever strike you as the kind of company that ever cared about neutralizing or containing anomalies?"
She frowned, simultaneously thinking of an answer to his question and racking her brains for any information on this mousy little man. He obviously knew more about her than she knew about him, and that unsettled her in a way that she hadn't felt since the time years ago when she had talked with the Under-Secretary.
"No," she said. "If anything, they've taken the opposite approach."
"Exactly. I can't tell you the number of times they've turned down our offers of assistance in containing failed projects." She wondered if he meant this literally or figuratively. "It makes you wonder why they would invite us here, when all past experience shows they'll probably disregard any advice we give them."
"Appeasement. Keep us from shutting down their little science project."
"Maybe. But considering how far along they were, I doubt we could have done much to stop them from launching. I don't know what kind of paratech PL used to get us to Herculina, but neither of our agencies has anything nearly as fast or accurate."
"You think they have an ulterior motive."
"I think they're hiding something."
ISV Daedalus – Bridge
1 Day Since Launch
Hiram Douglas was not a spaceship captain by trade. Very few people were.
He was, however, a former submarine captain. And really, an interstellar spaceship wasn't so different from a nuclear submarine. Or so the logic went. Hiram wasn't nearly as convinced of this point as his employers.
Still, he had been convinced enough to let them put him into the captain's chair of the Daedalus, and it was already far too late to change his mind.
This document is classified 3/CERULEAN FISSURE. Unauthorized access is to be reported to RAISA immediately.
INTELLIGENCE DIRECTORATE, SITE-12
[Letterhead]
MEMORANDUM FOR ASSISTANT DIRECTOR OF INTELLIGENCE (GROUPS OF INTEREST)
SUBJECT: Post-Incident Analysis Report on the Long-term Effects of CERULEAN FISSURE
Introduction. Incident CERULEAN FISSURE is the Foundation code name for the destruction of the largest research facility and corporate headquarters of GOI-003 (Prometheus Laboratories, Inc.), and the immediate aftermath of this event. While not the first time that GOI-003 has lost a research facility, CERULEAN FISSURE came at a time when the company was already under severe legal and economic pressure. In the months prior to the incident, GOI-003 had been targeted by multiple anti-trust and tort suits, and were being investigated for tax evasion. Additionally, three of the company's four most recent major projects had met commerical failure. It is believed that by the time of the incident, the company was nearing insolvency. With this in mind, the resulting collapse of the Prometheus conglomerate is, perhaps, to have been expected.
Breakup of GOI-003. The corporate structure of Prometheus Laboratories was, in the words of one of its former employees, "a labyrinth of shell corporations, holding companies, and subdivisions." Large parts of the organization operated with almost complete autonomy, and many of these continued operating after the collapse of their parent company. In other places, national and international normalcy protection agencies, including the Foundation, seized the former assets and employees of GOI-003, assimilating them into their own research divisions. Still in other places, former employees banded together to form new corporations to continue their previous work, often under the same management.
Of the organizations to emerge from the breakup of GOI-003, the most notable are:
- Titan Consumer Appliances and Electronics; Largely formed from the former employees of Prometheus Consumer Technologies, which was an independent subsidiary of Prometheus Laboratories based in North Carolina.
Item #: SCP-TIME
Object Class: Safe (Neutralization Pending)
Special Containment Procedures: In accordance with the instructions found in SCP-TIME-C-6, these procedures have been revised. All items removed from opened SCP-TIME-C instances are to be returned to their containers. Any irretrievable items are to be replicated as accurately as possible. Upon completion of this task, all instances of SCP-TIME-C are to be sealed and returned to SCP-TIME-A. A printout of SCP-TIME-B is to be made and placed inside SCP-TIME-A. SCP-TIME-A is to then be sealed and returned to the location of its discovery.
On April 15th, 2032, at 0857 UTC, SCP-TIME-A is to be sent back in time to 0857 UTC, April 15th, 1982, using the procedures outlined in SCP-TIME-C-6.
SCP-TIME-A is to be stored inside a Class 7 Item Storage Locker. Instances of SCP-TIME-C are to be left inside SCP-TIME-A until their indicated opening dates. Instances of SCP-TIME-C are to be removed from SCP-TIME-A on the indicated dates and opened. The contents of opened SCP-TIME-C instances are to be recorded and stored. Any instructions found within opened SCP-TIME-C instances are to be followed.
No attempts are to be made to open SCP-TIME-C instances before their indicated dates.
Description: SCP-TIME-A is a Class 4 Item Transport Locker, of the kind used to move small1 Safe-class items between sites. The words "SCP-TIME" are printed on its upper outside surface.
Contained with SCP-TIME-A are SCP-TIME-B and six instances of SCP-TIME-C.
SCP-TIME-B is a printout of SCP-TIME's original containment documentation.
SCP-TIME-C are sealed cylinders with a length of 50 cm and a diameter of 10 cm. Each instance of SCP-TIME is labelled with a future date. Attempting to open any SCP-TIME-C instance before its indicated date will result in a TK-class Temporal Paradox.
SCP-TIME has been sent exactly 50 years backwards in time by the Foundation, for reasons undisclosed. It appeared in the Safe Item Processing Facility of Site 93 on April 15th, 1982, at 0857 UTC.
The integrity of the above information is verified with the memetic counterphrase: [REDACTED]
Addendum TIME-1: SCP-TIME-C-1 opened on December 28th, 1989.
Addendum TIME-2: SCP-TIME-C-2 opened on May 29th, 1993.
Addendum TIME-3: SCP-TIME-C-3 opened on January 18th, 2001.
Addendum TIME-4: SCP-TIME-C-4 opened on April 7, 2013.
Addendum TIME-5: SCP-TIME-C-5 opened on March 25, 2025.
Addendum TIME-6: SCP-TIME-C-6 opened on June 21, 2031.
Author's Note: Anything written in blue is intended to be white text in the final version.
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: As of 2011-11-07, SCP-XXXX remains uncontained. No SCP-XXXX events have been observed since this date.
SCP-XXXX is voluntarily contained within Site 97. In order to prevent a recurrence of SCP-XXXX events, members of the Antimemetics Department stationed at Site 97 are to interact with SCP-XXXX daily. Class W mnestics are necessary to interact with SCP-XXXX.
Description: SCP-XXXX is a series of anomalous events taking place at Site 97 between the dates of 2005-04-08 and 2011-11-07. Observed events include:
- Disappearance of office supplies. Observed 34 times.
- Reappearance of office supplies. Observed 21 times.
- Opening of doors. Observed 47 times.
- Closing of doors. Observed 43 times.
- Appearance of messages on conventional writing surfaces (whiteboards, paper, etc…). The contents of these messages cannot be determined. Observed 27 times.
- Appearance of messages on unconventional writing surfaces (layers of dust, fogged surfaces, etc…). The contents of these messages cannot be determined. Observed 16 times.
- Containment breach of Safe-class items. Observed 4 times.
An additional 143 events of a similar nature but of non-anomalous origin were also observed during this time period.
SCP-XXXX is a sapient organism with antimemetic properties. SCP-XXXX is the entity responsible for the events described above.Due to its antimemetic properties, SCP-XXXX cannot be remembered as the source of these events. Any information accurately describing SCP-XXXX will likewise be forgotten. This includes large segments of its containment documentation.
SCP-XXXX's stated reason for causing the events described above is a desire for human contact and interaction. This statement is reinforced by the contents of messages left by SCP-XXXX, all of which express a desire to be noticed.
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: PoI-156672 is to be housed within a Class-1 Humanoid Containment Cell at Site-17. The bed in this cell has been replaced with one that has a ground clearance of 30 cm in order to accommodate SCP-XXXX.
Description: SCP-XXXX is a sapient humanoid with green skin and black eyes. SCP-XXXX is capable of spontaneously appearing underneath any bed in the world as long as there is a minimum clearance of 30 cm between the bed and the ground.
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX is contained at Site-17 in a Class-1 Humanoid Containment Cell which also houses PoI-156673. Due to the inherent threat posed by SCP-XXXX to persons who approach PoI-15667, no physical interaction with PoI-15667 is allowed; mandatory psychiatric evaluations of PoI-15667 are to be performed via intercom.
In order to ensure PoI-15667's continued cooperation and SCP-XXXX's continued containment, SCP-XXXX is to be supplied with material to read to PoI-15667 which contains indoctrination memes encouraging loyalty and obedience to the Foundation and its goals.
Description: SCP-XXXX is a sapient humanoid creature with green skin and black eyes. SCP-XXXX does not appear to need or be capable of sleep, and all attempts to induce unconsciousness in it have failed.
SCP-XXXX is closely associated with PoI-15667, to whom it acts as a companion and caretaker. This includes serving him meals, attempting to teach him basic arithmetic and literacy, entertaining him with various games, and reading to him every evening. SCP-XXXX is highly protective of PoI-15667, and refuses to leave him unattended. Attempts to separate the two have been unsuccessful, and are met with violence from SCP-XXXX.
SCP-XXXX refers to itself as Sir Alfred Munster, Knight Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the Book4. When questioned, SCP-XXXX claims to have been charged by "The King"5 with the defense and care of PoI-15667, a duty which it says it has sworn an oath to fulfill. All of its observed actions to date appear to be consistent with this explanation.
SCP-XXXX came to Foundation attention following the disappearance of Martha and Richard Dean, the parents of PoI-15667, and the subsequent police investigation. Local law enforcement officers discovered SCP-XXXX within the Dean residence and attempted to arrest it, which caused it to attack them. The officers managed to retreat from the residence without suffering casualties.
Following this incident, MTF Zeta-9 ("Suburban Warfare") assumed control of the investigation, placing the house under surveillance in an effort to gather more information before attempting a recovery operation. It was determined that while SCP-XXXX refused to allow PoI-15667 to leave its presence, it would not attempt to confine him to a single location.
Using this information, a recovery operation was launched. On 2014-05-01, MTF Zeta-9 tapped into the cable television line that served the residence and began using it to deliver memetically engineered messages to PoI-15667. These messages were designed to increase obediance to authority figures and susceptibility to commands, which eventually allowed Zeta-9 to convince PoI-15667, and by extension, SCP-XXXX, to agree to containment.
A post-op search of the residence discovered the bodies of Martha and Richard Dean in the master bedroom, located on the second floor. Autopsy reports were inconclusive, but the cause of death is thought to be blunt force trauma.
Inside PoI-15667's bedroom, a book titled Munster the Friendly Monster6 was discovered. Like many other children's books, this book is composed primarily of illustrations, with only a small number of words on each page. The book was found opened to page 9. The text of this page has been transcribed below.
So the King said to Munster,
"I've got a mission for you,
here's just what you'll do!
I want you to protect this youngster.
Teach your new ward,
help them to grow.
But don't drop your guard,
look out for the Foe."
The illustrations for this page are missing.
Item #: SCP-MINT
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-MINT may be stored in the same manner as a high-value non-anomalous item. It is currently stored within a Class-7a Containment Vault at Site-63.
Description:
(Non-clinical summary) Mint is a male humanoid, age unknown, trapped inside its original packaging. Packing is a cardboars box with a clear plastic front, but it is impossible to open or damage this box. Box identifies Mint as a Wondertainment product and a Little Mister, and has a list of additional misters to gather. Markings on the box indicate that Mint was packaged in the 1990s. Mint does not age, does not require food/water/air, and does not defecate or urinate. Mint is basically stuck in this box forever, and can never escape. Mint was created following the popularity of the Little Misters with "collectors" (Foundation and other gois). An entire line of additional Misters was commissioned alongside Mint, then recalled or canceled in order to boost Mint's value as special edition/collector's item. (Basically, all of his friends were killed to make him into a fake ultimate rare version.) He knows this, and desperately wants to be a real toy instead of the collector's item he is.
GRANT REQUEST FOR THE USE OF ECTOMORPHS TO PUMP HIGH ENERGY LASERS FOR USE IN COMPACT DIRECTED ENERGY WEAPONS
PROBLEM
SOLUTION
When exposed to free electrons, ectomorphs will emit photons. The wavelengths of these emitted photons are normally distributed with a mean of 500 nm. The intensity of the emitted light is directly proportional to the density of free electrons in contact with the ectomorph. It would therefore be possible to use ectomorphs as a light source by placing them within cathode ray tubes and bombarding them with continuous streams of electrons. (See Figure A.)
In order to keep the ectomorphs from escaping, the cathode ray tubes would need to be constructed from or treated with a material impermeable to ectoplasm. A patent for an ectoproof glass was recently granted to independent researcher Jonathan Daniels7. Daniels has stated that he is willing to license this patent to any interested manufacturers, but none have yet expressed interest.
BUSINESS CASE
USE OF FUNDS
KNOWN ISSUES
GRANT REQUEST FOR THE USE OF LOW-MASS BLACK HOLES TO GENERATE ELECTRICAL POWER VIA HAWKING RADIATION
PROBLEM
World energy consumption is rapidly increasing, necessitating an accompanying increase in power generation. Current means of generating electrical power are either expensive, dangerous, consume scarce resources, or some combination of all three. As power generation struggles to keep up with the growing demand, power shortages can be expected to become more common.
SOLUTION
We propose the use of low-mass black holes to generate energy through Hawking radiation, constructed and operated in orbit around Earth, with power distributed via a satellite beamed power network. While the engineering challenges inherent in constructing such a system are immense, the principles behind its operation are within the constraints of known physics.
The ideal black hole for these purposes is a Reissner-Nordström black hole, which has both mass and electrical charge. The possession of an electrical charge would allow for the use of magnetic confinement systems to contain and control the black hole. A Kerr-Newman black hole, which has mass, electrical charge, and spin, could also be used if a method of imparting spin to a Reissner-Nordström black hole was found. This would allow the black hole to be used for flywheel energy storage by utilizing the Penrose process to add and subtract angular momentum from it8.
As shown by Stephen Hawking, a black hole loses mass through the emission of black body radiation, at a temperature inversely proportional to its mass9. This radiation could potentially be used to generate electrical power.
To create the black hole itself, a large amount of energy would need to be confined within a small space. Our proposed method of achieving the necessary energy densities is the use of a spherically converging gamma ray laser. This would create a Schwarzschild black hole, which has mass but no electrical charge. In order to turn the black hole into a Reissner-Nordström black hole, an electron beam would be fired into it, giving it a net negative electrical charge.
Once the Reissner-Nordström black hole has been formed, it could be contained using a system of superconducting magnets, possibly based off of the magnetic control systems developed for Project Helios to perform tokamak fusion. The magnetic containment would keep the black hole from colliding with and destroying the power generating apparatuses.
In order to prevent the black hole from eventually evaporating via Hawking radiation, additional mass would need to be added periodically. This mass could potentially come from debris present in Earth orbit, mitigating the need to launch resupply missions while simultaneously reducing the amount of debris in orbit.
The beamed power network that would accompanying the generating stations would utilize satellite-based microwave transmitters, aimed at rectennas on Earth or other satellites. The existing work in this regard done by Project Phaethon would be of great use here.
BUSINESS CASE
While the worldwide demand for more energy is high, the demand for this technology would be limited by its own ability to generate practically limitless power. We estimate a world market of, at most, three of these systems. With such a low demand, and with the expected costs of developing and constructing the proposed system, it is difficult to see Prometheus Labs making a profit from this technology.
However, the primary intent of these systems is humanitarian. By providing what is, for all intents and purposes, infinite power for Earth, Prometheus Labs will be fueling humankind's continued growth and devlopment, which is a benefit to this company in the long-term. Additionally, doing this will improve the public perception of Prometheus Labs, making it easier to market our other technologies.
USE OF FUNDING
Most of the costs associated with this proposal are for the construction of orbital facilities to create black holes and use them to generate useful power. These facilities would each mass at least 500,000 metric tons, with the first one expected to cost almost 10 billion USD to construct. Each additional facility would cost approximately 2 billion USD, as much of the necessary hardware would already be in orbit. Construction and launch of the accompanying beamed power satellite network is estimated at 200 million USD.
Research and development costs for the spherically converging gamma ray laser system are projected at 500,000 USD, assuming that existing research into similar laser systems by Project Helios is used. Research and development costs for the superconducting magnetic confinement system are projected at another 500,000 USD, again assuming that existing research from Project Helios is used.
KNOWN ISSUES
Threat ID: KTE-0512-Mendel-Red-Silver "Transformed Lycanthropes"
Authorized Response Level: 3 (Moderate Threat)
Description: Organisms resemble large, tailless canids with disproportionately long forelegs, severe kyphosis (hunched-back), flattened snouts, and opposable thumbs on their forelegs, located where the dewclaws should be. They have displayed the ability to stand upright on their hindlegs for several minutes at a time. However, their primary method of locomotion is a loping, four-legged gait. This gait allows them to travel at speeds of 50-60 km/h for, on average, fifteen minutes, or at 30-40 km/h almost indefinitely.
These organisms are Type Red Limited Regenerators that obey conservation of mass. The extreme metabolic demands of this kind of regeneration requires the consumption of approximately 5% of their body weight in biomass every day. They are omnivorous, with a diet consisting primarily of wild ungulates and other large mammals, supplemented by roots and berries.
These organisms are carriers of transformative lycanthropy, a paradisease that causes infected animals to metamorphosize into a KTE-0512 organism. The primary vector for this disease is bites inflicted by carriers. Humans (Homo sapiens sapiens) and wolves (Canis lupus lupus) are the only known species susceptible to infection by this disease.
Transformation into a KTE-0512 organism takes between six and twelve months for humans, and between three and five months for wolves. Infected humans retain their full mental faculties during transformation process and for several months after its completion. After this time, mental faculties will begin to degrade until they reach a level comparable to those of a highly intelligent canine.
These organisms are gregarious, forming packs of three to fifteen individuals with others of their kind. If without a pack for an extended period of time, they will begin to seek out new packmates, even going so far as to attack uninfected individuals in attempts to infect and transform them.
Rules of Engagement: Vaccinations against transformative lycanthropy are available to all Coalition personnel, and are mandatory for PHYSICS Division operatives operating in the following regions: North America, excluding Mexico and the continental United States; Asia, excluding the Indian sub-continent, Japan, and Indochina; Russia.
These organisms are susceptible to incendiary and high-caliber rounds. Recommended tactics are overwhelming firepower from long-range. CQC is highly inadvisable.
Infected individuals are to be terminated before they can become threat entities.
History: (non-clinical history) First identified in [sometime in the 19th/20th century]. Widespread wolf hunting encouraged to eliminate werewolves and potential werewolves (wolves). Vaccine developed in the 1950s/1960s. Mass, covert vaccination campaign undertaken by GOC (and possibly MARP). Combined with large-scale werewolf hunting, manages to significantly reduce the total population. Surviving werewolves mainly in uninhabited areas of Canada, Alaska, Russia, China.
Author's Note: Text in blue may or may not go into the final version depending on reviewer feedback.
Conrad Trent. Doctor. Senior Researcher. Containment Specialist. Divorcee.
Currently driving through the forests of northern California. Alone except for his thoughts, which only leave him when he sleeps, and an unrealized sense of foreboding, which never really goes away.
It is dark. No, not dark. But also not light. It is the eerie gray of the pre-dawn twilight. The rest of the world sleeps for a few minutes more before the daybreak, blissfully unaware of the infinite horrors that lurk.
Conrad Trent is not unaware. He is very aware. Distressingly so, in fact.
Today, however, he has not been called out to deal with a sentient bioweapon, or an organic assimilator, or a xenoparasitic hive mind, or yet another one of a thousand different threats to human life and civilization.
No. Today he has been called upon to deal with something that is merely bizarre. That is, if anything he deals with could be called bizarre.
He sees the checkpoint that the Mobile Task Force has setup across the road. He stops his vehicle. Shows them his identification. Has his identity checked, double-checked, and then checked once more. Finally, he is cleared to proceed.
He continues on towards the inner perimeter, where he is stopped once more. Again, he is scrutinized. Again, he is cleared to proceed, this time on foot.
Conrad Trent steps out of his car. Adjusts his coat, although it is not cold. Checks his watch, despite knowing the time. Goes through the rituals that keep him sane, or a close approximation of it.
He approaches the anomaly. It is a tumor – a mass of flesh as large as an elephant. By his reckoning it must weigh at least a ton. It is growing from a fissure in the ground, a small ravine that cuts alongside and across the nearby footpath. He swears that it is throbbing slightly. Like the beating of a heart. But much slower.
"Doctor."
"Commander." He nods slightly to the man who has appeared next to him. "What can you tell me?"
The man frowns slightly. Chews his lower lip. "Not much. A hiker found it last night, called the sheriff's office out here. We took control about four hours ago, did preliminary interviews, set up a perimeter. All I can tell you is that it's gotten larger since we got here. But as for what it is, your guess is better than mine."
Conrad Trent nods again. "Has it reacted to any stimuli?"
"Not that I can tell."
Conrad Trent steps away from the object, turning his back to it. He casts about for a moment. Spotting a fallen branch on the ground, he picks it up and turns back towards the mass.
Then, like all curious men before him, he pokes it with the stick.
The surface of the object gives slightly, stretching inwards, before his tool meets with resistance. The flesh gives a soft squelch as it falls back beneath his probing, a sound not unlike jello being jabbed.
This action elicits no response.
Conrad Trent nods once more. "There's a few different things it could be, but I suspect it's an instance of spontaneous geo-organic tissue growth."
"What, like those things that popped up in Australia last month?"
"Exactly like them. If I'm right, then it's the first instance in North America." He pauses a moment to collect his thoughts. "I'll need to do a biopsy to confirm. And a sonar analysis of the underlying terrain. Probably more. Is there a mobile lab here?"
"There's one on its way."
"Good. Let me know when it gets here."
It is later.
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX is to be housed in a standard humanoid containment cell. A list of recently published novels is to be provided to it at the start of each week, and it is to be allowed to select its meal choices for that week from this list, subject to the discretion of the HMCL supervisor. SCP-XXXX is to be fed twice a day, with an optional third meal to be provided upon request. Meals are to be prepared in accordance to the guidelines laid out in Document XXXX-Feeding. Personnel interacting with SCP-XXXX should be aware that it has been known to eat notes, checklists, nametags, clothing and tatoos containing text, and, on one occasion, a laptop computer. It is advised that personnel leave any objects containing or capable of displaying text outside of SCP-XXXX's containment chamber.
Under no circumstances should SCP-XXXX be allowed to consume this document.
Description: SCP-XXXX is a male humanoid. It is known to be fluent in French, German, and English, and speaks all three with a French accent.
SCP-XXXX is unable to derive sustenance from normal human food. Instead, it gains its nutrition from text10. SCP-XXXX consumes words by touching them with any of its fingers, erasing them from whatever object they were located on in the process. SCP-XXXX has demonstrated the ability to eat entire pages of text at once through this method, and appears to be able to consume text located on any object or material11.
When consuming individual words, SCP-XXXX is able to provide the meaning and definition of the word, and appears to be able to do so with words from any non-anomalous language12. When eating multiple words together (including phrases, sentences, paragraphs, and entire books), SCP-XXXX is able to accurately remember and summarize the contents of the consumed text, regardless of the language of the text.
SCP-XXXX was discovered inside a library in the town of [REDACTED] by members of the local police department. SCP-XXXX had already consumed approximately 20% of the books contained within the library, and was in the process of eating The Book of Sharks13 when confronted by police. It was arrested for trespassing and vandalism, before being subsequently recovered by embedded Foundation agents.
Addendum XXXX-1: Selected Experiment Logs14
Experiment #:
Summary of Experimental Procedures:
Results:
Notes:
Experiment #: 1
Summary of Experimental Procedures: The word "dog" was written on a piece of A4 paper with a #2 HB pencil. Paper was given to subject, and subject was instructed to eat the word.
Results: Subject touched the word, causing it to disappear. When prompted, gave definitions as "a domesticated member of the species Canis lupus" and "a derogatory term for an unpleasant person" and "a mechanical gripping device" and [ADDITIONAL DEFINITIONS REDACTED FOR BREVITY]. Also said that the word was "not very filling" and "bland".
Notes: All definitions provided by SCP-XXXX were found to be accurate, if somewhat obscure at times.
Experiment #: 2
Summary of Experimental Procedures: Experiment 1 was repeated using Russian (a language SCP-XXXX claims not to know).
Results: Subject provided a list of definitions [REDACTED FOR BREVITY]. Said the word still tasted "bland" despite the different language.
Notes: In the future, SCP-XXXX has been asked to provide only one definition of a word unless told to do otherwise. It has agreed to this request.
[INTERVENING EXPERIMENTS OMITTED FOR BREVITY]
Experiment #: 51
Summary of Experimental Procedures: The full text of The Lord of the Rings15 was translated into SkipLang, then printed and bound into a book. Subject was instructed to eat this book.
Results: Subject spent the next 37 minutes consuming the entire text of the book. Upon completion, subject was able to provide a detailed summary of the key events of the story. Subject also described the book as "delicious" and "cold, but not minty" and having "a slight taste of vinegar". Subject expressed a desire to consume other texts written by the same author.
Notes: Subject also appears to have gained fluency in SkipLang. Linguistic team directed to begin working on a new constructed language to replace it.
Item #: SCP-057-J
Object Class: Ketchup
Special Condiment Procedures: Following the events of Incident 19/057-J/CB-1, these procedures have been revised.
SCP-057-J is to be kept in Cafeteria B of Site 19, next to the mustard dispenser. Personnel are actively encouraged to use SCP-057-J, as laboratory analysis indicates that it is delicious. Personnel are actively discouraged from attempting to remove SCP-057-J's cap. To provide further discouragement, the cap has been firmly secured to SCP-057-J with duct tape, and an armed guard has been stationed nearby with orders to seriously injure violators.
In the event that SCP-057-J becomes jammed, site maintenance should be alerted immediately. Any non-maintenance personnel located in Cafeteria B at the time are to evacuate to Cafeteria C until the jam has been cleared.
Personnel found using more than five squirts of SCP-057-J in a single meal are to be commended for their excellent taste.
SCP-057-J is to be kept in Cafeteria A of Site 19, next to the mustard dispenser. Personnel are actively encouraged to use SCP-057-J, as laboratory analysis indicates that it is delicious. Personnel discovered to be using more than five squirts of SCP-057-J in a single meal are to be commended for their excellent taste.
Ingredients: SCP-057-J is a bottle of Heinz Tomato Ketchup. Unlike similar, non-anomalous bottles of ketchup, SCP-057-J appears to contain an infinite amount of ketchup16. Samples of ketchup from SCP-057-J are identical in composition to samples from non-anomalous bottles. This makes SCP-057-J an ideal solution to Site 19's recurring ketchup shortages.
Addendum 057-J-1: Transcribed and Annotated Security Footage from Incident 19/057-J/CB-1
Camera: 19/CafeA/04
Date: ██/██/201█1527 An individual identified as Dr. G███████ is seen walking towards SCP-057-J's location. He is carrying a tray containing a hamburger and a basket of french fries. He is conversing with another individual identified as Dr. H███. [CONVERSATION REDACTED FOR LACK OF RELEVANCY]
1528 Dr. G███████ picks up SCP-057-J and attempts to apply ketchup to his hamburger. SCP-057-J fails to emit any ketchup.
Dr. H███: Something wrong?
Dr. G███████: Damn thing's jammed. Give me a sec to fix it.
1528 Dr. G███████ begins unscrewing SCP-057-J's cap.
Dr. H███: Is that —
1529 Dr. H███ is interrupted by an eruption of ketchup from SCP-057-J. The blast of ketchup hits Dr. G███████ directly in the face, startling him and causing him to lose his grip on the bottle.
Dr. H███: Oh god, it's actually happening.
1529 Dr. H███ grabs the bottle off of the floor and covers the opening with her hand, temporarily halting the outflow of ketchup.
Dr. H███: CONDIMENT BREACH! EVACUATE THE ROOM!
1530 The ██ other personnel located in the room immediately begin making their way towards the exit.
1530 Evacuation of Cafeteria A complete. Dr. H███ initiates lockdown procedures, sealing herself inside the room.
Author's Note: The blue text and red text represent different possible versions of the same paragraph.
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX is to be stored in a Class B Anomalous Item Storage Locker. It is currently located at Site 57, where a full scale mockup of the interior of the British Museum has been constructed for the purpose of testing museum related anomalies.
All testing with SCP-XXXX is to be conducted with Class D personnel not fluent in the English language. Audio produced by SCP-XXXX during testing sessions is to be recorded. These recordings are to be treated as potential cognitohazards. Sanitized transcripts of each recording are to be created following every testing session. All personnel directly involved in the transcribing process are to be dosed with Class C amnestics upon completion of each transcript. Completed transcripts are to be delivered to the HMCL supervisor for SCP-XXXX17.
or
All testing with SCP-XXXX is to be conducted with Class D personnel not fluent in the English language. Audio produced by SCP-XXXX during testing sessions is to be recorded and stored in compliance with RAISA RP 1020 ("Recording and Storage of Potentially Hazardous Data"). A transcript of this audio is to be produced by Class C personnel working in accordance with RAISA RP 1030 ("Sanitation of Potentially Hazardous Data"). All personnel directly involved in the transcribing process are to be dosed with Class C amnestics upon completion of each transcript. Completed transcripts are to be delivered to the HMCL supervisor for SCP-XXXX18.
Description: SCP-XXXX has the appearance of an AT-100 handheld audio guide produced by Okayo Electronics and used in museums worldwide. Disassembly of SCP-XXXX has revealed no differences between its internal mechanisms and those of non-anomalous audio guides. All attempts to alter the commentary provided by SCP-XXXX using both Okayo's software package and custom Foundation software have failed.
SCP-XXXX's anomalous properties manifest when a living human being listens to it while inside a museum. As the listener moves through the museum, SCP-XXXX will provide commentary similar to that produced by non-anomalous audio guides19. However, this commentary is unrelated to the museum the listener is currently in, and appears to be for museums located in different places, times, and/or realities. Regardless of the listener's native language, this commentary is always provided in Standard English by a generic male voice speaking in Received Pronunciation.
On at least ██ occasions, commentary provided by SCP-XXXX has included information with cognitohazardous properties, information about other anomalous objects (both known and unknown), information about Groups of Interest, information about the Foundation, and information about the future.
Addendum XXXX-1: The following is a selection of transcripts from SCP-XXXX testing sessions which have been approved for L2/XXXX personnel. The full set of transcripts is available to L3/XXXX personnel at the discretion of the HMCL.
Session #: 11
Transcript: Hello, and welcome to the Apollo 7 Lunar Memorial Museum. This museum was constructed on and around the site of the Apollo 7 Lunar landing in 2009. Over 70,000 people visit this museum every year in order to pay their respects to the pioneers who are interred here.
As you enter the Columbia Rotunda, you will see the Apollo 7 Lunar Module Columbia, in which astronauts Virgil Grissom and Roger Chaffee became the first humans to land on the Moon on October 15, 1968, and five days later, the first humans to die on the Moon. The lander, and the 50 meters of lunar surface surrounding it, has not been disturbed since then, serving as the final tomb of those brave explorers.
You are now entering the History of Early Spaceflight Wing. On your left you will see a full scale mockup of a V2 rocket, a ballistic missile built by Germany during the Second World War, many of which were captured by the United States and the Soviet Union. These captured V2s would become the first human-made objects to reach space, and helped lay the foundations of both nations' space programs.
[INTERVENING COMMENTARY REDACTED FOR LACK OF NOTABILITY]
You are now in the History of Lunar Exploration Wing. The first thing you will see as you enter the wing is a mockup of a Soviet LK Lander, of the same kind that carried cosmonaut Alexey Leonov down to the Lunar surface on November 12, 1968 to become the third human and the first Russian to land on the Moon. Unlike the two astronauts who had preceded him the month before, Alexey safely returned to Earth, successfully rendezvousing with the Soyuz 7K-LOK spacecraft that was waiting for him in Lunar orbit.
Moving past the LK Lander, you will see several American and Soviet spacesuits on display. Unlike modern skintight suits, early spacesuits were bulky, heavy, and unwieldy. Astronauts could move at only a few kilometers an hour while on EVA. These excursions were restricted to only a few hours in length due to the limited life support of the time. Later Lunar missions would carry rovers with them in an attempt to alleviate these restrictions, to varying degrees of success.
Near the end of the wing is a scale model of the International Lunar Outpost. Constructed by the United States and the Soviet Union in 1981, the ILO initially served as a base for further exploration of the Moon. Starting with the addition of China in 1990, other nations were invited into the ILO program, and the base has continued to expand since then. It is now the largest human installation on the Lunar surface, and is the third busiest spaceport in the solar system.
We conclude our tour with a final visit to the Columbia Rotunda. Please join me in a moment of silence for the brave men entombed within.
Thank you for visiting the Apollo 7 Lunar Memorial Museum. Before you leave, please be sure to visit our gift shop.
Notes:
Session #: 26
Transcript:
Notes:
Alternate titles: [NO TRESPASSING] | [ENTRY PROHIBITED] | [RESTRICTED AREA] [REPLACED]
NOTICE FROM THE FOUNDATION RECORDS AND INFORMATION SECURITY ADMINISTRATION
This document contains an infectious infohazard that renders infected personnel unsuited for work with sensitive information. Accessing this document will automatically and permanently set your clearances to Read-Only.
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: All non-essential documents containing SCP-XXXX are to be destroyed. All essential documents containing SCP-XXXX, including this document, are to be quarantined. Foundation personnel infected with SCP-XXXX are to have their editing privileges revoked and their access to sensitive information minimized. Civillians infected with SCP-XXXX are to be quarantined indefinitely.
Description: SCP-XXXX is an infectious infohazard that replaces all instances of [REPEALED], [DATA EXCISED], and white out in a document with text synonymous to the removed information. When a document containing cenorship is created or edited by an infected individual, SCP-XXXX will manifest within that document. Infection with SCP-XXXX occurs when an individual becomes aware of its existence and properties, or reads a document containing it. Attempts at treating SCP-XXXX infection with amnestics have failed.
SCP-XXXX was first discovered within the files of the [AGENCY DOES NOT EXIST]. It is estimated that 1/4 of the agency's files and 0x9A of its personnel were infected with SCP-XXXX before it could be quarantined by Foundation operatives.
The infection of Foundation documents and personnel by SCP-XXXX was initially limited to this document and the neuf personnel involved in its containment. Due to human and technical error, SCP-XXXX has since spread to 10 other Foundation documents.