“MERRY MIDSOMMAR, FUCKBOY!”
Dr. Filler holds his head in his hands as the flower-adorned skeleton dances around him, weaving ribbons of toilet paper around the bollard his canteen bench is placed by. Maybe if he doesn’t look he won’t have to see the stares from other members of the department.
“Come on, Spooks.” he mutters disheartedly, “can we not? After everything that happened at Easter?”
“I DON’T NEGOTIATE WITH TERRORISTS, RANDALL”
SCP-SPOOKY-J’s voice is grating in exactly the way Randy knows it intends to be. He’s anomalously annoying and what’s worse is it’s also non-anomalously annoying.
It’s been maybe half a year since Randy was assigned to Spooky, and it’s been maybe the worst six months of his life. He never quite knows when to expect this dipshit skeleton, and it’s been shredding his ability to rest anywhere - at home, in the office, even now in the canteen.
“I’m trying to practice mindfulness these days, Spooks, but it’s real hard to appreciate the current moment right now, you get me? You ever tried that?”
“I DON’T HAVE A MIND.”
“You don’t have a brain. You’ve got a mind, how else would you come up with insults for me?”
“KING BRAINS OF BRAIN MOUNTAIN KNOWS SHIT ABOUT ME NOW,” Spooky shouts, “LORD OF THE ORGANS IN MY FACE. WHEN DID YOU SCAN MY BRAIN, HUH, WHEN I WAS FUCKING YOUR DAD?”
It’s difficult not to just punch this thing sometimes. Maybe it would respect that approach more.
“Fuck, Spooks,” Randy says, “you said you wouldn’t talk about fucking my parents again!”
“READ THE CONTRACT ASSWIPE UH OH DIDN’T MAKE ONE. I SAID I’D STOP TALKING ABOUT FUCKING YOUR MOM BECAUSE IT’S MISOGYNISTIC YOU DAD’S FREE FOR THE TAKING.” Spooky kicks Randy’s sandwich off the table.
“Jesus, Spooks, you fucking tool, get down off that.” Randy swipes at Spooky’s tibia in front of him, and there’s a hollow clonk as the skeleton teleports to another table, feet landing in Dr. Jacques’ mashed potatoes and sending them flying over his notes. It whips its arm out to point at Randy.
Randy puts his hands up in surrender.
“Come on, man, you know the amount of paperwork we had to go through to get that struck from the documentation last time.” he says, slowly walking over to Dr. Jacques’ desk and waving a silent apology to the man.
To his credit, Dr. Jacques just gives a small thumbs up and an encouraging smile. Obviously he’s been around long enough to learn not to interact - Spooks has a tendency to latch onto whoever challenges him and make their life a misery. That’s how Randy got the Senior Researcher position, after all. Argued with the asshole skeleton enough times that they gave him a payraise and told him that was his job now.
He’s been given an idea, though.
“Listen, you tool,” Randy says, “you fucking… skeleton key. Get-”
“BAD INSULT FUCKBOY”
“I know, shut up. Get down off the table or I’m revoking your free roam privileges.”
Spooky squats down to eye level with Randy, resting its elbows on its knees. It gets right up in his face before shouting again.
“OH YEAH LIKE YOU CHUDS CAN CONTAIN ME ANYWAY”
Randy tried to put as much fuck you as he could into his eyes as he stared back into Spooky’s sockets.
“Yeah, Spooks, I know. You can get out any time you like.” Spooky opens his mouth, but Randy cuts him off. “Hotel California, I know. But you know what happens when you get out, if you don’t have free roam privileges?”
“DO I GO ON THE NAUGHTY LIST?* DOES DADDY GET MAD I BROKE CURFEW?”
“No, Daddy gets to do paperwork. The O5s have been hounding us lately, taking as many things as they can off us and making them mainlist shit. GAW, Ashur, dado, that fucking noodle wizard. You know why noodle wizard isn’t around any more? Thaumatology got him when he breached containment and we had to report it. I’m going to guess if you get transferred out, it’ll be to a department with the funding to shut your boneass down fully, unless they want to revive you for testing. You want that?
“THEY’LL NEVER PART US, WE’RE SQUADMATES FOR LIFE.”
“No we’re fucking not, Spooks, we’re just two assholes with anger issues who take it out on each other. Difference is that for one of us, if we don’t get our shit together they’ll be putting us in a cage. Shit, dude, you think I want to be a jailer? I just” - God, he hates what he’s about to say - “I just want tuh be ya friend.”
There’s a pause. Spooky cocks its head, flower crown slouching off to expose bare skull.
“LIKE TIBIA?”
Randy shrugs.
“I LOVE THAT.”
“So… you gonna behave yourself today?”
Another pause. Then Spooky teleports again and he’s balanced impossibly on the corner of the canteen whiteboard, arm outstretched to a small rope hanging from the fissured ceiling tiles.
“NO”
Spooky pulls the rope, and several hundred pounds of dandelions and fertiliser fall from the ceiling tiles, burying them both.
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Hey, the stuff below is just for testing some stuff, please ignore for now
- I'm Sure We Can Fit You In
- Bigger Than Before
- The Sellout
- Sellout Stuff (removed)
- Floaty Lady
- Writing Jam Bullshit
- Area-12 Parazoology Department
- Two Birds, One Stoned
- Overmeta
- Window to the Soul
- Missing
- The Procession
- Oinkers and Avery
- Faux-Fiction
- To Do
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SCP-5747: "I'm sure we can fit you in!"
Author: Rimple
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SCP-3500 | DrBleep |
SCP-3504 | OthellotheCat |
SCP-3373 | LordStonefish |
Hey, the stuff below is just for testing some stuff, please ignore for now
Included page "info:more" does not exist (create it now)
This SCP was written for the second 144-Hour Jamcon.
The theme for this day was Explosions
✈️
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NOTICE: MAGIC IS REAL
Your SCiPNet history shows you have not previously been assigned to any magical anomalies. In order to comprehend the below text, you must fully accept as truth that magic is real. If you have not already internalised this, please take the time to do so. If you feel that you cannot accept that magic is real without demonstration, please speak to your supervisor to have a Standard Request for Magic Demonstration (SRMD) form submitted.
Item #: SCP-5747
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Containment procedures focus mainly on a system of agreed-upon checks and balances for the Transportation Security Administration (henceforth the TSA) to ensure the restriction of SCP-5747's utilisation by airport security agents worldwide.
Please see Special Report SR-5747-5 for current considerations on the future of continment procedures on this item. If you would like to be included in the discussion, please contact your Ethics Committee representative.
Description: SCP-5747 is a controlled dual anomaly comprising SCP-5747-A and SCP-5747-B. Combined, these anomalies form the basis of an air travel security protocol brought into place by the TSA in January of 2009. This protocol extends the 100mL restriction on liquids that can be brought through security checkpoints in public airports to include the blood, urine and spinal fluid of certain individuals.
SCP-5747-A is a field of complacency and suggestibility suffusing the majority of spaces designated as international zones, including almost all airside areas in airports, as well as aeroplanes themselves. This field serves to mask unusual events, including SCP-5747-B or viewing those affected by SCP-5747-B. This leaves individuals without training to overcome memetic effects with the broad impression of airport terminals as tedious, unremarkable spaces.
SCP-5747-B is an anomalously non-lethal method of fully exsanguinating and dehydrating a human body in such a way that it remains conscious. Although this leaves the body relatively rigid, careful shaping during the procedure allows the dehydrated bodies to assume a roughly cuboid form factor for easier transportation and storage. Due to the effects of SCP-5747-A, this is not generally noticed by those affected or other passengers who see those affected by SCP-5747 being trollied through the airport, stowed overhead by compartment crew, etc.
In practice, the TSA's regulations surrounding SCP-5747 allow for any passenger to be subjected to SCP-5747-B for the entire duration of their journey, if identified by airport security agents as potentially magical. During this time, as SCP-5747 renders an individual rigid and incapable of locomotion, it is the airport's responsibility to get the passenger onto their flight and ensure they are fully rehydrated before exiting the airport.
The full set of the TSA's regulations for safe use of SCP-5747 can be found in their training manual BTP-13-ꙮ.
History:
SCP-5747 was brought into existence after an incident on 12/12/2008 in which an American passenger on a flight to Iran, Ahmad Esfahani, was detained by an embedded UIU asset in the TSA on the suspicion that he was an undisclosed bloodmage. Subsequent interrogation of Esfahani found that he carried no volatile curseblood in his system which could have been used to trigger a bloodmagic bomb, and indeed was not aware of the existence of magic or his status as a bloodmage1. However, the agent's concerns became a major point of discussion among TSA agents with knowledge of anomalous security concerns, quickly reaching members of leadership.
While the resulting steps have been deliberately obfuscated, it seems that the TSA leadership aware of the concern contracted a magical or otherwise reality-bending individual to enact the changing of the TSA's liquid restriction rules to include bodily fluids, in such a way that the change could not be perceived by individuals not aware of, or who did not believe in, magic. Over the next week, this individual brought SCP-5747-A and -B into existence to allow for the protocol to be followed by trained airport security agents, with the same memetic protection against discovery by those who are not aware of magic.
Once the Foundation became aware of this, the TSA were contacted and an agreement was drawn up between the TSA, the Foundation and the UIU to limit the number of passengers subjected to SCP-5747-B via careful training of security agents2. The purpose of this training was to minimise the number of non-magical passengers subjected to SCP-5747-B; although SCP-5747-B has not been shown to have any negative or traumatic side effects after the fact due to the clouding effects of SCP-5747-A, it has been judged inhumane where not necessary to apply it.
Special Report SR-5747-5:
On 9/12/2016, MTF-μ-3A ("Secret Shoppers") ran a covert inspection of several airport security gates, and found that across the board a higher rate of passengers than expected were being detained and subjected to SCP-5747. Closer inspection over the following months found that a number of airlines had become aware of SCP-5747, and were offering unofficial financial incentives to security agents who hit certain quotas on the use of SCP-5747-B. In the case of two major airports, this accounted for almost 5% of passengers being subjected to SCP-5747-B, with these numbers heavily concentrated on specific flights and airlines.
The purpose of this practice was to allow for the overbooking of flights, particularly in order to continue selling last-minute flights at significantly increased prices. In extreme cases, this allowed for two flights on the books being run as one single flight with half the passengers stowed in the hold, saving significantly on fuel costs.
The final report on this practice, SR-5747-5, was delivered to the Foundation 23/5/2017 - discussion on how the Foundation will be responding to it will be held by the Ethics Committee in their next ordinary general meeting in June. Notable findings include the use of SCP-5747-B as a punitive measure, and a trend toward false negatives being heavily weighted to target Arabic and Muslim individuals.
Site-19's Chief of Surgery is named Samson Abbott, and his parents had meant it. The man is top of his field, well respected, a candidate for the O5 Council in 20 years, should his service continue. He has spent his entire life working hard to rise the ladder through first the medical world, and then the world of the Foundation. He has been paired with a clown.
To call the man across the operating table a clown is not a judgement of character, but a statement of fact: Five years ago, when Mr. Daisical had become eligible for Foundation-sponsored further education, he'd opted not to pursue a PhD as many did, or to utilise the Foundation's network of connections to get specialist training with the world's leading surgeons - he'd asked to go to clown school.
Of course he'd gotten away with it - why wouldn't he? The Joke Department never failed to trip head over heels into the most asinine possible methods of conduct. Dr. Daisical was just a drop in the bucket, one which Abbott wouldn't even remember if he weren't high enough in seniority to be a candidate for Abbott's replacement.
He was at least, mercifully, no longer in full greasepaint. When the call had gone up that there was a breach down in the Department of Other, Dr. Abbott had brusquely shook hands with a jingling jester. Now, covered in scrubs and elbow-deep in some poor Jokes employee while Abbot provides suction, all that distinguishes Daisical are two small triangles he's scribbled above his eyebrows in eyeliner pencil.
"Alright, that should prevent the contusion from killing him, at least." Daisical announces, holding up the can of silly string he's been using to dispense surgical glue, "Who wants to close up?"
Resident 3 raises his hand. Daisical gives Abbot a quick glance, and the man nods. 3 is learning well, and they need to get to their next patient. Daisical tosses the woman the can and turns on a dime, snapping off his gloves as he heads for the scrub room.
SCPnet v1.3.7 active
jeptb@scpnet:~$ access SCP-6774
Accessing…
Item #: SCP-6774 (Formerly SCP-97-J)
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: Embedded agents are to be placed in all factories involved in the final steps of paperclip manufacture, and allowed to privately test all batches of paperclips with key phrases before shipment. Any instances of SCP-6774 detected in this process should be reported to Thaumatology for containment.
Instances of SCP-6774 are split between storage in Thaumatology's specified object storage and general object storage in Site-19 sub-basement J, with the majority now housed in the former. Any employees working within the vicinity of storage are to be screened for beliefs in conspiracy theories.
SCP-6774-1 is to be housed in a standard modular containment unit, with modifications to their cell to ensure their body is anchored to the physical plane. SCP-6774-1 may not leave their cell for any reason without these same modifications being present anywhere they are brought.
Description: SCP-6774 is the activatable personality "Preppy", which has affected slightly above 1 in 700,000 newly manufactured paperclips since approximately November 2013. In practice, global paperclip manufacturing produces between 6 and 10 instances of SCP-6774 every year. The Foundation currently has 45 instances of SCP-6774 in containment.
SCP-6774-1 is PoI-83873, a former member of the GoI "Gamers Against Weed", who is contained due to their use of and involvement in the creation of SCP-6774. See Incident 20210213-19-3 for more information.
SCP-6774 instances are activated when concern is voiced in their vicinity for a number of topics surrounding the apocalypse. The nature and likelihood of the apocalypse discussed does not seem to have any bearing on the likelihood of a given instance of SCP-6774 activating. The area in which SCP-6774 activation can occur is quite wide, with testing indicating a radius in the range of 500m with a given instance at its centre.
Once activated, SCP-6774 instances (heretofore "Preppy") will transport themselves to the speaker and attempt to provide advice on the topic at hand. Preppy cannot speak, and communicates through floating text overlayed on nearby surfaces.
Preppy's knowledge surrounding these issues seem quite limited, with little to no knowledge on subjects such as preventative measures or community building. Instead, Preppy attempts to steer its guidance toward topics it is more familiar with - chiefly, the building and maintenance of defensible bunkers, the efficient long-term storage of foodstuffs and the use of weaponry for hunting and combat. Preppy is admant that an apocalypse is imminent, although the nature of said apocalypse changes easily to agree with the individual being given guidance.
Preppy is resistant to any discussion of its past or comparisons to the Clippit3 virtual assistant created by Microsoft, attempting to steer any conversations towards discussion of theories that the Gates family are nonhuman entities.4
SCP-6774 first came to the Foundation's attention in October 2013 following a number of reports of a talking paperclip, with other correlating minor details. Investigation was initially conducted by the Department of Thaumatology, but once a link was established to GoI-5869 ("Gamers Against Weed"), the case was taken over by the Department of Other, who handled all GoI-5869 anomalies between 2013 and 2016. A teenager in ██████, ███████ was identified as a possible suspect in the creation of SCP-6774, but fled their home with the use of an instance of SCP-6774 when approached by covert agents and has not been found since.
Interview log, November 3rd, 2016
Notes: For clarity, writing produced by SCP-6774 has been edited in-line with the researcher's communication with the entity.
Director Gerald: I'm in a similar situation, unfortunately. My sister has been a worry to me recently, getting into these Facebook groups about perpetual motion and proclaiming, oh, mountains being trees?Researcher Black: "There are no forests", yeah, love that one. Ah, sorry, that's insensitive. That one's really sunk its hooks into folks.
Director Gerald: 'No, no, that's alright. I have a thick skin. I suppose it's just hard to argue with her on any of this when, well, when realistically my reasoning is "No, Sarah, because I know what they're actually hiding from you. Comic Sans is killing people!"
Researcher Black laughs, then mimes gesturing to a board behind her, describing lines between points on the board as she speaks.
Researcher Black: "There's a ghost in our toilets that haunts us if we don't wipe, and the government hired an eleven year old to contain it!"
Both laugh. After a moment of silence, Director Gerald sighs.Director Gerald: I guess if I believed what she believed I'd also be going around saying the shadow government is keeping Big Tree from us? I sometimes worry my empathy there is overriding-
An instance of SCP-6774 appears between the researchers and begins addressing Researcher Jacques.
Hello! You said: "The Shadow Government is keeping Big Tree from us".
Would you like to:
- Begin work to protect yourself and your loved ones
- Find out just how deep this rabbithole goes
- Find likeminded patriots who will fight by your side when the time inevitably comes
Director Gerald: Ohhhh, dear. Well, Imani, perhaps let's not report this one to the council, alright?Researcher Black: We're not worried on this one? But it's not free roam?
Director Gerald: Impossible to truly contain, unfortunately. Go back to your box, please, Preppy, we're having lunch!
A single can of Alaskan Wild Salmon provides enough nutrition for up to three people and will keep for many years in efficient stacks.
Learn More Bulk Order Salmon Cancel
Director Gerald: You know what? This is… Imani, this is impromptu field training, alright? Interview Log, SCP-97-J, commencing…Researcher Black shows Director Gerald her wristwatch.
Researcher Black: 1:23 PM.
Director Gerald: 1:23 PM. Preppy, tell me how the world ends.
When All Hell Breaks Loose, the true Trees - what sheep call the mesas - will be the last haven. You will need to be prepared to defend your Tree against those who would take it from you. It looks like you don't have what it takes right now.
Would you like to:
- Find a nearby shooting range to join
- Purchase landmines to protect your property
- Find likeminded patriots who will fight by your side when the time inevitably comes
Director Gerald: You see? The item is repeating itself already. It's only got so many phrases to throw at you, Imani. This thing isn't truly intelligent. Are you?
If you'd like to know more about my functions, just ask! I can help you with all sorts of problems.
Would you like to:
- Dig and maintain a waste pit.
- Debunk common non-believer arguments
- Experience Rapture
- Begin work to protect yourself and your loved ones
Researcher Black: "Experience Rapture"?
Director Gerald: Imani, no-
You want to Experience Rapture. Please hold.
Director Gerald.: Oh dear. Oh dear. Imani, stand up, stand there. Of utmost importance - don't move. You can breathe, you can fidget, but don't move from your spot. You'll be back in a minute or so.
Researcher Black: Understood, sir. I'm sorry. I'll see you in a m-
SCP-6774 and Researcher Black disappear. Director Gerald begins moving tables and chairs away from the spot where Researcher Black was standing.
Director Gerald: Well, this one is definitely coming up in the next council meeting.
When prompted, Preppy may offer to allow users to "Experience Rapture". If accepted5, Preppy will transplant the user's body fully into an unknown plane of existence, currently dubbed 'Rapture'. Rapture has yet to be properly explored as it presents a number of physical, spatial and thaumic threats which cannot easily be navigated. Exploration grants have been denied with consideration to the lack of a current need for a better understanding of SCP-6774. After a minute has passed, if the user does not ask Preppy to extend their time in Rapture, they will return to the material plane. Any movement performed in Rapture will be matched relative to the point of disappearance. As this can lead to intersection with other objects on return, there is a high chance of physical harm on return if the explorer moves within Rapture having not planned their route in advance.
Incident 20210213-19-3
On February 13th, 2021, the Gamers Against Weed associate "heartshapeddox" used the stolen keycard of Junior Telecommunications Officer Eric Robinson to gain access to sub-basement-J of Site-19, where a number of instances of SCP-6774 remained in object storage.6. Magic activity was detected when the user attempted to activate SCP-6774, and a Thaumic anchor was activated onsite to prevent the user's escape via Rapture.
[^C]jeptb@scpnet:~$ close
Closing…
jeptb@scpnet:~$ telnet scp.org 25
Hi Gerald,
Long time no talk - sorry to make it a matter of work. It's come to light that the recent kerfuffle in the basement may have been a Person of Interest attempting to steal SCP-2779. Parazoology were asked to take a look at SCP-6774's documentation to see if we can contribute any information. I've found myself feeling like there's something missing from this documentation, as it stands? A good lead in 2013 on the object's creator seems to have been dropped after just one escape. Then the recent break-in - no investigation apparent for how the intruder got their hands on this keycard. And I'm only realizing as I type this, but why would the keycard of a Telecommunications employee with Level 0 access be enough to get all the way down to the basement without being intercepted?
I'm sorry if this comes off as accusatory - I know your department gets all sorts of badmouthing and I don't mean to contribute to that. I'm hoping you'll have an explanation that clears everything up.
Best,
Bartley Jept
Director, Area-12 Parazoology
Hi Bart,
I'll keep this brief: we do in fact have an explanation! I've just given you access to the documentation for Asset Clyde, as well as some relevant additional documentation. Sorry about the confusion - access is need-to-know, and you didn't need to know previously, since we had no idea 2779 was related. And sorry also for the state of the documents currently - I've had to chop out some of the identifying information and this operation is a work in progress. I'll make sure you're looped into future meetings on this, at least while we're looking into the 2779 connection.And yes, it's been a while! We're having an open mic in the basement canteen tonight - perhaps the sense of humor mightn't be your style, but if you wanted to come on down, drinks are on me.
See you there,
Gerry
Open attachments? Y/N
jeptb@scpnet:~$ Y
Asset Outline: "Clyde"
Designation: Asset-IPBC, "Asset Clyde"
Clearance: Personnel of Grade 4 or higher with purview over items relating to GoI-5869, "Gamers Against Weed". Lower-rank personnel at discretion of their relevant Grade-4 approver.
Maintenance: Asset Clyde's cover story is to be maintained in-house to any uncleared personnel. Story comes into use on any documentation relating to GoI-5869.
When accessing and documenting chatlogs obtained from GoI-5869, outline that chat logs were recovered from a raid on either a GoI "headquarters" or the domicile of a member.
Human Resource documentation surrounding Junior Telecommunications Officer Eric Robinson should reflect that they were recruited as standard procedure from an initiative within ███████ College ██████, where they were studying at the time. JTO Robinson's move to the States in November 2016 is to be recorded as a personal move which was facilitated by Telecommunications.
Description: Eric Robinson is the assumed name of Asset Clyde, a Foundation-affiliated mole recruited in 2013 after their creation of SCP-6774. A long-time trusted member of GoI-5869, the asset is uniquely positioned to discreetly feed information to the Foundation directly from the group's private chat rooms. As the protections imposed on all related chatlogs are highly difficult to decipher, the speed with which the asset can relay time-sensitive information makes them crucial to the capture and continued containment of all related items. Asset Clyde has been a primary asset in the capture of over 13 objects in the database and has alerted the Foundation of GoI-5869 activities which could have lead to veil-breaking scenarios on multiple scenarios.
As the asset was obtained by the Foundation in 2013, and the asset was 14 years old at the time, the object's handler (Dr. Gerald) has successfully been able to focus on a stepped conversion/recruitment process which has steered the asset away from their prior beliefs and towards the Foundation's key goals. As an embedded asset, the user is fluent in GoI-5869's in-jokes and language and is highly competent at mimicking this style and assumed viewpoint to retain trust within the organisation. The Foundation has gradually steered the asset to become a "lurker" - a member of chat who is trusted but does not often engage unless directly addressed ("pinged") by another member. This reduces the Foundation's need to doctor logs to keep the asset's presence hidden.
Handling of the asset has proven difficult to transfer following the reallocation of GoI-5869 objects out of the Department of Other into more specialized departments in 2016. Asset Clyde demonstrates a high degree of loyalty to Dr. Gerald and the department as well as a general distrust of other departments and individuals working for the Foundation.7 As such, Dr. Gerald has remained their handler through the departmental change and is to remain so until their planned retirement in 2033.
As many members of GoI-5869 have reason and capacity to launch attacks against the Foundation's records, it has been judged necessary to keep Asset Clyde's involvement off the record. It has also been judged necessary to limit knowledge of the asset's real name and online handle to the asset's handler.
Interview Log, June 1st 2015
Asset Clyde's voice cracks as they speak.
Clyde: I. Fuck, fuuuck. I caaaaan't. They're my friends.
Dr. Gerald: I know that, ██████. We know that. We don't want anything that you don't want yourself - to make sure your friends, and everyone else, stay safe. Don't you want to make sure your friends are safe?
Asset Clyde wipes snot from their nose with the hem of their shirt. Dr. Gerald unclips a kerchief from their pocket protector and offers it to Asset Clyde, but this is declined.
Clyde: This isn't - you're tricking me. You're not- janitors are fucking cops.
Dr. Gerald: Honestly, ██████? Most of the time the moniker "janitor" fits us far better. There's a lot of people out there making messes and not cleaning up after themselves. Like public littering. The jokes your friends make - ██████, the jokes your friends make… You don't want to hurt anyone, right?
Clyde: No. No, no, we want to make people l-laugh. They're goofs. We have - we have rules, we're not monsters, we, we don't kill!
Asset Clyde attempts to slam their hands against the table in emphasis, but is restrained by their cuffs. Dr. Gerald glances to the observation glass behind Asset Clyde, then produces a key. Dr. Gerald begins speaking as they uncuff Asset Clyde.
Dr. Gerald: ██████… doesn't it seem to you that a group that needs an explicit "No Killing" rule - even if they're as well-intentioned as can be, as I'm sure your friends are - doesn't it seem to you that a group like that, you'd want to make sure someone else was keep an eye out for them? To make sure they're ok? To make sure they're not a danger to others by accident?
Asset Clyde rubs their wrists.
Clyde: No, we-
Dr. Gerald: ██████, people coming back from Rapture are dying because they intersect with objects in this plane when they return.
Asset Clyde shakes their head and hiccups.
Clyde: That's - that's a bug but we patched it. It was safe.
Dr. Gerald: Your friend, "HSD", told you it was safe, right? Helped you design it? But we've examined it, ██████, and every time you punched through it was creating holes. Rips, in the very fabric of the plane. It was hurting people, ██████. Because of what "HSD" told you, you were hurting the souls of everyone who ever stepped foot near those rips for months later. Draining life from them. Do you understand the scale of that, being used in an urban center? The cumulative decades, centuries of life you were pulling from the city? For a joke?
Clyde: No no no no no no no they're my friends-Dr. Gerald: And how do you feel this will affect people with issues distinguishing reality from fiction? We're trying to contain as many as we can now but you've got an inanimate object out there telling dozens if not hundreds of people that doomsday is coming. If just one of them really believes it, how is that going to affect their life? What might they do? Your friends don't think about these things like we do, ██████. They need somone out there who does.
Clyde: We don't want to hurt anyone it was a goof it wasn't- it was to help HSD, he's stuck he's… he's from there I just wanted to visit… I don't…
Asset Clyde balls their hands into fists, pushes them against their eyes and screams. They continue talking in this position. Dr Gerald pats them on the shoulder.
Clyde: I can't leave them, I don't have any other friends. I don't… at school, they-
Dr. Gerald: ██████, ██████. I don't want you to stop seeing your friends.
// Asset Clyde looks up, lowering their fists to their mouth in order to look at Dr. Gerald.//
Clyde: You don't?
Dr. Gerald: No, no. Of course not! We know you love them very much. We want you to help us keep them safe. Could you be their protector, for us?
Dr. Gerald places the cuff key in Asset Clyde's right hand. Asset Clyde gazes at it for some time.
Clyde: For- for them. I can be their protector, for them.
GoI-5869 Chatlog Excerpt, December 9th 2020
orbhorse: dude how baked are you we haven't had a bot in like years
bluntfiend: Whhh?
warysue: tiedyeduck: sorry dude yeah I'm just Still Angry and I'm putting that on you
heartshapeddoxx: did you fuckin see i was online and time-teleport back to like 2008, friend
kkrule: just tweeted about it warysue!
bluntfiend: Where's oinky friend ;_;
warysue: I'm going to go up to the station and let them know What's Coming .
heartshapeddoxx: ren and me are working on it, blunt. Janitors have her rn so github updates are a no-go. Actually -
warysue: these pigs are gonna Regret not listening to me
<- warysue left
bluntfiend: Pigs? :D
heartshapeddoxx: since I'm here, anyone seen ████████? He helped out with some of the code for oink back in the day, especially her shifting planes. we tested it out w our first goof
bones: ████████ continues to be an active member of chat, although they only engage in conversation rarely. You can find him in the sidebar currently.
heartshapeddoxx: idk if - oh cool. ████████? New name? she/her? :0
kkrule: ████████ usually asks not to be pinged :)
heartshapeddoxx: ah soz ok shoud I not have pinged, then
bluntfiend: Ping away my guy I'm not your dad.
you: oh shiiiiit hey felix long time
you: dw about the ping
harmpit: buntlfeind will ysou be my enw dad
you: oh man missed you my dude. how's mr bone's wild ride?
lesbian_gengar: actually yeah it's been ages since we've heard an update from MBWR
heartshapeddoxx: p good! Ren and me have the server properly set up now, though we use it more for osrs8 these days than for chat here. Seems like bones has taken up a lot of my old duties, eh? Or perhaps bones is chatbot?
bones: Debatably. I would not assume to claim your role in the server socially, of course.
harmpit: blnutfiend you dno't even nteed o be agood dad juts send me €20$ on my bith rdays k
heartshapeddoxx: no friend assume away I'm like nevar here
heartshapeddoxx: neway ████████, I am hoping you could help me with a ~heist~
you: a heist? forreal or forgoof?
heartshapeddoxx: forreal unfortunately, in this time. Perhaps we will goof again afterward!
harmpit: yuo coudl tak emebwoling some tmime
you: that'd be nice, man. who's getting heisted?
heartshapeddoxx: janitors
bluntfiend: Whoa, what?
kkrule: what!
harmpit: bluntfndei pls fukc my mom
lesbian_gengar: WHAT
you: lets uh
you: lets take this to DMs
Recorded conversation, Site-19 J-list Object Storage, February 13th 2021
Clyde:…here, aren't I? So I'm not saying we shouldn't be doing this, but I guess - I guess I just don't… I don't know, I don't get it. I know Oinkers means a lot to you and Ren but… the janitors are scary, man. We meme about them and all but-
PoI-83873: This Foundation is pussies don't worry.
Clyde: No, they're- take this seriously, Felix. They're real fuckin' powerful. What if you get- what if we get captured?
PoI-83873: I understand your confusion, friend. It is simply - she does not know why she is trapped, yes? She does not understand why she is not at home, warm and safe with carrots to munch. Renard and I, we discuss this. We cannot leave her stuck in a cell. I do not think I could forgive myself if I abandon her. You see?
Clyde: I… Yeah, man. Lets get her back with her dads. Here, SCP-6774. The doomer Clippy we made, do you remember?
PoI-83873: Of course! ██████, you know I based Oinker's ascension protocols on your work, yes? The movement between planes, it is not so easy. You are the reason Ren and me, we can be together, friend. We were not so active in the chat at the time but I must have said this to you.
Clyde: You… I don't think you ever did, actually. I never knew that.
PoI-83873: You are very close to both of us, friend. Perhaps when we break her free, you will put that clever mind to work and we will figure out how you can visit us in the astral server, eh? On a basis that is not seven seconds and is not so, ehhh, permanent as Renard decided.
Clyde: I'd like that a lot, Felix. I love you, you know. It's nice to get to hear your accent in person.
**PoI-83873*: I know. I'm sorry I have been away so long.
Clyde: Um, so… so, I'll leave the directions to Parazoology here, right. Once I holepunch up to Corb- to Rapture, I can hand you Preppy and you can holepunch down into the material plane. Your astral body is going to manifest physically, and that will let you get the update to Oinkers. It might feel weird, being back here after so long over there.
PoI-83873: We already know this, friend. You tell the air?
Clyde: No! No, just - just makin' sure we're both on the same page. Ok, Preppy, Rapture me. Transferring in 3, 2-
There is a loud shuffling of papers as Asset Clyde activates SCP-6774 to ascend planes. A few seconds later, a similar bip sounds as PoI-83873 activates SCP-6774 again to descend planes. Immediately, a loud chime can be heard as a Thaumic anchor activates within the room, locking PoI-83873 into the material plane. More quietly, a door can be heard clicking open behind PoI-83873.PoI-83873: Verpus. What is-
Agent Imani Black: Drop the paperclip and hands on your head.
PoI-83873: Go fuck, pig! Preppy, Rapture now!
A series of low-register bleeps can be heard.Agent Black: Well. Your holepunch not working, huh? Hands on the head now, ghostboy.
Clicking can be heard as Agent Black places Felix in magically-neutralising cuffs.
PoI-83873: You could not have- these protections are not… This was planned.
Agent Black: Whatever you want to think, sir.
PoI-83873: If this was planned, then… Then… No. ██████, you can hear me. You are not - you are not a janitor, friend? You have not become a janitor? Please come back and tell me you are not, please, I cannot bear it if this is true. ██████ please, please.
PoI-83873's voice fades as they are removed from the room. After a few minutes, a shuffling of papers can be heard as Asset Clyde returns to the material plane.
Dr. Gerald: Hey, ██████.
Clyde: Hello, sir.
Dr. Gerald: You did something very difficult today. Something to protect your friend, even if he doesn't understand that. You understand that, right?
Clyde: I'm not- I'm not a janitor.
Dr. Gerald: No, of course not.
Clyde: I'm the filth.
Dr. Gerald: Ahh, kid. No you're not, I promise. We'll work on that together, ok?
GoI-5869 Chatlog Excerpt - Admin chat, February 15th 2021
-> you joined
lesbian_gengar: I mean, I have vague memories of the rain stream being mentioned back in - what, 2016?
bluntfiend: They've said warysue can vouch for them, right? We'll just ask her when she drops in chat, she can decide whether or not we let them in.
bones: I've issued a private message to warysue. I will advise when we receive a response.
you: Guys I have really bad news
you: about Felix. Heartshapeddoxx.
jockjamsvol6: Oh fuck. The heist went bad, didn't it?
bluntfiend: Christ. OK, that's- very bad, right?
you: the janitors got him. I managed to escape with my pacman but it was close.
jockjamsvol6: doxx wrote like… most of our chat security is him, right? The magic end of it anyway.
bones: I can begin action to reconfigure our security protocols now. I've built on all the protocols as they stand, but at their core this is heartshapeddoxx's code. The time it will take to unthread and rewrite it will be significant - weeks, if not months. It may be pertinent to consider the option of shutting the chat down entirely until we have built new protocols from scratch. In the meantime, our locations may become compromised. This is not so much of an issue for those of us with our own protections, but anyone in any of our chats may be at risk.
bluntfiend: Did we not have backups for this?
you*: There's another option.
jockjamsvol6: doxx is a fucking ghost gay who lives with his boyfriend in an entire other plane of reality why would we need backups for this
bluntfiend: Don't suggest what I think you're going to suggest, dude.
you: Felix and I weren't strong enough to take on the janitors on our own - but you guys, together? If we work fast, we could take them by surprise, before they've had time to turn Felix against us.
bones: That is extremely inadvisable.
you: We don't know what's happening to him in there. Even if it's a bad idea… we need to consider it.
lesbian_gengar: jfc just catching up but this is not the right move. I SAID the heist was a terrible idea.
bluntfiend: No, ████████ is right.
bluntfiend: Stupid or not, we have to consider this.
you: consider it, yeah. That's all I'm asking. For Felix and for Ren.
bluntfiend: Listen, ████████: pitch it. You have a plan?
you: Yes. I do.
SCP-9999 is the baseplate and NFC chip of a standard Pacman amiibo figurine, which have been modified physically and digitally to allow for short-term transportation to the astral plane. This property is activated when:
- The baseplate and NFC chip are together and connected to any figurine representing the characters of Pac-Man, Ms. Pacman or Egon Spengler from the "Ghostbusters" franchise.
- The amiibo is held by a conscious observer who can identify the character attached, visually or otherwise.
- The NFC chip is read by the NFC reader of a bus which accepts contactless fare cards, or an NFC reader at a tram or rail station which accepts the same.
At this point, user will be transplanted into a parallel plane of existence (referred to as "the astral plane" by its creator in captured chatlogs, though it is not the plane recognised by the title by popular thaumic practice). Rather than astral projection, which allows only one's spirit to traverse the plane, this device transplants the user's physical body from the base plane. This has not yet been replicable with any attempts to recreate the device.9]Once in the plane, a loud siren will begin sounding. The user can move freely for up to 30 seconds, after which they are shunted back into the material plane. During this time, the astral plane's geometry is bent around the user such that the user can step directly from their prior location to the next stop of the bus, tram or train.
On 9/12/2011, Daithí Nic Éabha was connected to a series of reported vanishings and appearances of a teenager in the Dublin area.
Dr. Gerald pokes his head around the door.
Dr. Gerald: Hi there, Daithí. I'm just making myself a coffee - you want anything?
Nic Éabha: Wha?
Dr. Gerald: Tea, coffee, hot chocolate?
Nic Éabha: D'yiz have Cidona?
Dr. Gerald: Do we- Cidona. Pop?
Nic Éabha: Fizzy, yeah.
Dr. Gerald: Perhaps!
Dr. Gerald heads off, comes in ten minutes later with a coffee, a Cidona and a briefcase.
Dr. Gerald: There you go! None in our own stores, but the campus shop had some for you. Pretty marvelous, I think, this branch operating within the buildings of an existing university. Makes a nice break from where I usually work.
Nic Éabha: Where's that, then?
Dr. Gerald laughs and winks exaggeratedly.
Dr. Gerald: Ah, turning the questions around on me!
Nic Éabha: You haven't asked me anything yet.
Dr. Gerald: True, true, not yet. Seems you're a man who appreciates cutting to the chase, though. No worries.
Dr. Gerald pulls a notepad and pen from his briefcase, alongside the SCP-CLYDE-J file.
Dr. Gerald: Alllllright. Daithí Nic Éabha. How would you describe your role as a member of the anartist cell "Gamers Against Weed"?
Nic Éabha: Never heard of em.
Dr. Gerald: Fair enough. I'll rephrase the question: This morning, we broke into your family home and recovered-
Nic Éabha: You can't do that.
Dr. Gerald: We did. I'll restart: This morning, we broke into your family home and recovered a number of your possessions, including several pieces of equipment for the creation of anomalous technology, a thaumic decryption USB key and your laptop. We have access to many in-progress magical programs you were working on and a year and half of your chatlogs within a magically-protected chatroom for the anartist cell "Gamers Against Weed". We already have folks poring over the logs - I'm sure by the end of tomorrow they'll be able to slap whatever label they want on your cell.
Dr. Gerald leans forward, resting his chin on steepled fingers.
Dr. Gerald: I'd like to hear your side of the story before they can write that for you.
Nic Éabha: What, so you have more flavour text on my cell's plaque? Fuck off, right.
Dr. Gerald: You don't necessarily need to end up in a cell, Daithí. That's part of why I'm here, from across the Atlantic, with some pretty unfriendly jet-lag. I'm one of the few people in the organisation who cares about finding //other ways of handling matters/.
EVENTUALLY
Item #: SCP-4440
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-4440 is currently housed in Site-19's low-security humanoid containment complex10. Contingent on continued good behaviour, SCP-4440 has been provided with a level-0 keycard that provides her access to a number of staff common rooms and resources, including unrestricted internet access and full access to the research labs when accompanied by at least one other member of staff with a security clearance of 1 or higher.
When outside of the complex, SCP-4440 is to wear an adapted climbing harness which keeps her tethered to specially-installed rails on the walls and ceilings around the facility. These rails are to be inspected and maintained once every year, or at the request of SCP-4440 or any member of staff.
Description: SCP-4440 is Imani Abernathy, former NASA researcher and final commander of the International Space Station, who is not affected by the Earth's gravitational pull, nor that of any known celestial body. This anomalous effect is spread to any waste products from SCP-4440, as well as any items or beings she touches directly, for between 5 and 12 hours11.
SCP-4440's anomalous property was not present prior to her ten-month stint on the ISS in 2028, and is believed to have manifested during her atmospheric reentry on December 9th 2028. Cockpit footage from this re-entry was livestreamed by SCP-4440 as part of her greater push to reinvigorate the ISS's social media presence, and shows her losing consciousness simultaneously with external video footage showing her re-entry capsule ceasing downward movement 100 metres above the surface of the Pacific Ocean, 4 kilometres off the coast.
(0123 GMT) CDR ABERNATHY: We're at about 3500 feet now, about the height commercial airliners fly at, above cloud cover. It's, uh, it's real odd to think that, that this is as far as y'all ever get from Earth, cos I reckon I'm already home.
(0125 GMT) CDR ABERNATHY: Question here from, uh, 'chaac'12. Not sure how that's pronounced, exactly. "Do you ever see any good storms up there?" Well of course! Sandstorms, rainstorms, snowstorms - they're wonderful to see. Suarez, snoozin' here, claims he saw a thunderstorm over Brazil, big enough he heard it himself. Now that's silliness of course, but don't nobody tell him I was bad-mouthing.
(0129 GMT) CDR ABERNATHY: Next question is - gosh, I'm really feeling that pressure change now - next's from, gosh, from Hang Nguyen, she wants to know "Hi, how did you get into NASA as an astronaut? I'm 14 now, and I've been…". OK, rest of that is mostly just talking about her life, what inspired…. Sorry, I'd read the full, oh dear…
Cdr Abernathy loses consciousness for about 5 seconds, then wakes up.
(0131 GMT) CDR ABERNATHY: The, the full questions can be rather long, so I won't read the full things. Not much on the clock til touchdown, you understand. So, now, I actually started out as a researcher, but there was the opportunity back in 2021 to-
Comms crackle, interrupting Abernathy.
(0132 GMT) CONTROL: Commander, be advised you were down for a number of seconds. you feeling ok?
(0132 GMT) CDR ABERNATHY: Oh, gosh, did I? That's odd, I was fine through entry.
Cdr Abernathy takes a sip of water from a straw inside her helmet.((0133 GMT) CDR ABERNATHY: I wonder if it's because…
//Cdr Abernathy loses consciousness again, this time not waking up. At 0137, Foundation agents within NASA take down the stream.
At 0133 GMT, SCP-4440's capsule began to slow in the air, coming to almost to a total halt vertically before landing in the Pacific Ocean at 0159, about twenty minutes after its predicted landing time. [Something something recovery]. SCP-4440 says that her memory of the descent is unclear past initial re-entry, and does not remember the final few minutes at all.
Since recovery, SCP-4440 has negotiated a status as a level-0 researcher, and has assisted in research on a number of Anomalous Items and Safe-class SCPs without issue.
IMANI ABERNATHY AND ELEANOR BRIDGE, 2031
Dr Bridge enters SCP-4440's apartment and looks around in confusion for a number of seconds before thinking to look up to the ceiling, where SCP-4440 is attempting to solve a jigsaw puzzle floating in mid-air. SCP-4440 notices Dr Bridge and pushes off the wall to float over to her, her face angry.
SCP-4440: Eleanor, you bitch.
Dr Bridge freezes, confused. SCP-4440's face twists in amusement and she throws her arms out as she collides with Dr. Bridge to wrap her in a hug.
SCP-4440: You didn't tell me it was today!
Dr Bridge's voice cracks as she bursts into a laugh.
Dr Bridge: God, Imani, I'm so sorry! I didn't realise you'd even be allowed go. We graduated on the whole other side of the facility, past the Keter wing and everything.
SCP-4440: I could have applied to go, or just run it by Aktus. I know he's not my biggest fan, but maybe he'd've - gosh, you are just cute as a button. Do you always scrub up this well?
Dr Bridge: Ha. Thanks, I think. I dressed up for the occasion. Not every day you get your doctorate. Though you've made my blazer rather difficult, now.
Dr Bridge shrugs off her blazer to demonstrate that it is now floating freely.
SCP-4440: Shoot, I'm always forgetting. Sorry, Ellie. Hope it ain't too cold outside.
SCP-4440 takes a pair of gloves from her pocket and pulls them on.
SCP-4440: So, what are you here for, if not to let me know you're a doctor now?
Dr Bridge's smile falters slightly, then she pulls a pair of files from her bag and hands them to SCP-4440.
Dr Bridge: The good news is they've approved your proposal for testing with-
SCP-4440: They declined my request.
Dr Bridge: With your condition, I think they just felt that-
SCP-4440: My condition? Well, thank you kindly for explainin', but Eduardo in B block got in, and that man secretes acid everywhere! Worst I can do is make someone float for a bit, doesn't seem fair.
Dr Bridge: The artificial Nexus is a big project, Imani. You've worked on the ISS, you've got to know that balancing everything with so many variables, we have to reduce the possibility of bad interactions as much as possible. You're not the only one getting this result.
SCP-4440: Alright, alright. I'll deal with this as I will. Thank you, truly, for doing this face to face.
SCP-4440 attempts to place the file in the air beside her, and starts when it falls to the floor. After a second, she turns away from it and frowns, rubbing her earlobe.
Dr Bridge: And, you know, if this turns out well, it's very possible you'll be able to get in with future batches.
SCP-4440: I'll focus on the present, if that's alright. Figure out for myself how it's a gift.
Dr Bridge: While I'm here, I thought maybe we might do tea, talk about things?
SCP-4440: Bless your heart, dear, but I'd rather be alone for today, if that's all right with you.
Dr Bridge: I understand. Do let us know if there's anything I - we - can do.
SCP-4440: I did, darling. I did.
Players:
Silverfish/Mr Dove: Silver to himself, Fishy to everyone else, an oily social climber with everything to lose and everything to gain. This is his first truly major social event, and he's desperate to please.
Colonel Bouy: An Army vet and Silverfish's aunt, Glass is known for her shortness and disinterest in social niceties. Granted a place at the table due to family connection, sticks out like a sore thumb but in a way everyone finds very trendy. One of the wealthier people at the table to have made their own way monetarily, hunting the wildest of game for immense profit.
Miss Rua Bander: A true beauty, revered from a young age, Rua has many dozens of suitors - rumours abound that she's been dating Fishy, but neither will confirm nor deny. Seen by the majority as the most vapid and idiotic of the lot.
Professor Kirk Ra: A man of high regards in journalistic circles, and perhaps the only person who could take down every person in the room with simple words. Word is he's been working on an article about Fishy behind his back, and the only reason he was invited was so Fishy could woo him with fancy things.
Lady Gurm: A shrewd older woman with too much knowledge for anyone's good but her own. People are constantly on edge around her, waiting for her to drop the next bombshell that could mar their reputations.
Bonnie the Butler: Head of the servants in Mr Dove's manor, it's well-known that Bonnie was hospitalised last year with a broken arm and a crushed windpipe - no explanation was ever provided, and one of the guests knows that Bonnie tried to seek work elsewhere before returning.
Reverend Glass: A Cogworth Orthodox minister with connections, Reverend Glass has been known to butt heads with Fishy's Maxwellist leanings, to the point that many guests were surprised to hear he'd been invited. Was heard throughout the night throwing jabs at he host.
**
I glare into my mirror with revulsion. the man who stares back is weak-chinned, weak-willed, horrible. A social leech. I am very glad I am not him.
I am perfect.
Glancing up at the clock, I startle - the guests are almost to arrive! The man in the mirror twists his face in pathetic shock. I must work to maintain my cool. I straighten my tie and make tiny adjustments to my styled hair. It must all work. It will all work. When I know something is true, it becomes true. That is what it means to be a God among mortals.
The first of the cars will be pulling in soon. I won't be greeting them, of course, nothing so frightfully common, but I must make sure I have my appearances. Calm, collected, perhaps with a glass of brandy in my hand, the bottle carelessly uncorked beside me? Yes, that will work. They will love it, the facade of it. They will love me.
I set about being a perfectly imperfect host.
—-
I first glance my Adonis across the room, arriving perfectly late, their hair and cotton jacket casting a dewy halo in the gas light by the door - they're perfectly misted with melted snowdrops, a living Coca-Cola advertisement. Of course they walked, though they could have afforded the car. Of course their air is now lightly frizzing, though they clearly sunk hundreds into the styling of it for the night. It's these details that remind me how much I still have to learn to be one of these people.
We've fucked, that's par for the course here, obviously, as what matters is who you can /regularly/ fuck. My Adonis is not yet that for me, but I shall rectify it, that is to be assured. I take my time
—-
The guests babbled among themselves about small things and large - current events in Three Portlands (plans to incorporate a fourth Portland? utterly ghastly!), their thoughts on the North Korea situation (terrible, terrible, but at least Kim is making the best of a bad situation) and the tenderness of the panda liver starter (perfectly pitched!). The servants had cleared away the plates, and now Bonnie, the head of staff in the mansion, stood behind Fishy
Hey there! This is a little informal introduction to the Parazoology Department pseudocanon. No hub yet, so it's confined to my sandbox for now. You're probably here because I'm bugging you to add your animal to the canon. If you approached me about it, holy shit, fucking nice.
Anyway yeah:
About the Department
Located somewhere near Vancouver BC, Area-12 is a fairly large facility masquerading as a local SPCA headquarters. They house Safe (or non-dangerous Euclid) animal anomalies, focusing on unintrusive study and quality of life for the skips in its care. It was established sometime in the 70s or 80s (let me know if you want to write stuff that would clash with that, all the details are up in the air right now). There are facilities for staff to live on-site if required or desired, and the dorms are generally considered a nice place to hang out and get to know other staff.
Attached to Area-12 is Site-83, constructed between 2008 and 2010 to serve as a high-security wing for dangerous Euclid- and Keter-class anomalies. So far, the only canon resident is 5760, from AbsentmindedNihilist's Lesbian Hunger Doggos series. Staff often move between Area-12 and Site-83 for testing, via promotion etc, so if you want to use staff from one in a skip or tale set in the other, feel free.
There's also a small sister facility (name pending) built specifically for SCP-2593, a couple miles from Area-12. It operates at minimal staff, with regular checkups from Area-12 vets.
Writing for Area-12
This is not a grimdark slice of canon. On the whole, staff in Area-12 are pretty happy with their jobs, enjoy working with animals, and are able to build good trust relationships with the anomalies in their care. Skips are almost always referred to by name instead of designation. A number of their safer animals which don't interact with each other anomalously (often referred to as 'inert' skips) are kept in an open area near the middle of the facility available for any staff to come and spend time with. On paper, these are the "Area-12 pens". To the staff, it's the Petting Zoo.
This doesn't mean you should be wacky or lolrandom, just that you don't need to feel constrained by unreasonable levels of bureaucracy or adherence to strict rules that you might be in other settings within the Foundation. Your characters are allowed to be sad, have bad experiences related to SCPs (see Dr. Jept), not be Hagrid-style treehuggers etc, but on the whole Area-12 is a wholesome place for skips and staff.
This is an inclusive, diverse canon. We actively encourage diverse characters and viewpoints in all our works. There's nothing wrong with a character being straight, white and male, but if everyone creates based on that default you end up with a wash of those characters. You should always give thought to why you are giving your characters the traits you give them, and strive to represent people of all ages, races, sexualities, sizes and backgrounds, characters who are neurodivergent and nonbinary and everything else. You should remember that those aren't palette swaps - a trans man will have a different perspective and background than a cis one by virtue of the world we live in, for instance, and someone who's first language is not English will have notable speech patterns etc. On the flipside, you should be careful not to exoticise your characters' traits, nor define them entirely by them. This all means more work, but it's worth it, and it will create more memorable, reusable characters with real personalities. This stuff won't be policed, but it will be noticed, and it's important.
As with anything, be sure to just give authors a heads-up before doing stuff with their characters. It's good courtesy, and it avoids canon clashes - for obvious reasons, I'd like for all the Parazoology stuff to fit together, everyone's ideas coexisting. That said, utilising characters who have popped up in other Area-12 articles is highly encouraged. We want this place to feel alive and coherent, with recurring characters readers can get a good sense of. We also want lots of crosslinks to other Area-12 skips, in the spirit of the Grand Crosslinking and to build up that interconnection. Preferably, these won't just be namechecks - they don't have to tie into a larger plot, but your use of characters should help build their personalities and personal history.
Characters
Dr. Daisy Glover is the Director of Area-12 and associated Sites. She's short, to-the-point and very keen on avian biology. She doesn't always get on well with everybody, prone to rub people the wrong way with her blunt speech. She values openness and honesty in people, and cannot stand people who do not listen during discussions.
Timeline: Daisy joined Area-12 in 2002 at age 21 as a junior vet and earned an in-house Doctorate in Parazoology by 2008, while maintaining a full-time role, including a promotion to Senior Vetinarian. In 2014, she took over as Acting Director of Area-12, becoming Director a few months later when Dr Jept declined to take back the position.
***
Dr. Bartley Jept is a Senior Researcher and former Director of Area-12. He lives on-site with three dogs and a loopsnake, and is well-liked by most of Area-12's staff as an inspiration and guide. On weekends, he often volunteers with the non-anomalous SPCA front, helping to care for, feed and play with the animals. He often forgets where his glasses are and enjoys buying expensive art materials with which to paint bad portraits of his favourite anomalous and non-anomalous animals. Dr. Jept is asexual and aromantic, but is considering getting a roommate.
Timeline: Dr. Jept started as a Junior Zoologist within Site-19 in 1972. He rose in ranks quickly, and in the late 70s/early 80s was promoted to Director of the then-new Area-12. Dr. Jept helped to set many of the standards within the facility, including its prioritisation of animal QoL. After losing his left arm and leg to an accident involving SCP-2282 in 2014, Dr. Jept stepped down and took up a mantle as a researcher and mentor to incoming staff, helping many new recruits find their feet. While he doesn't wield much power in his position, most people still consider him to be in some way in control within the facility.
***
Mx. Brendan Parks is an enthusiastic Junior Zoologist in their early twenties. They're extremely good at forming bonds with animals, but lack of social skills, bad paperwork and an affinity for knocking things over has lead to their lack of promotion. They don't mind, as they prefer being able to spend time with the anomalies, making sure they're well fed and medicated, as well as comfortable in their enclosures. Brendan's favourite SCP is Oinkers, and they enjoy playing fetch with it in the Petting Zoo. Brendan is agender and uses they/them pronouns. Brendan prefers to wear bright colours and feminine clothing.
Timeline: Brendan was recruited to Area-12 in 2015 by Dr Jept, who met them while volunteering in the attached SPCA HQ.
***
Dr. Lakshmi Agarwal is an animal psychologist and Senior Researcher in her late twenties, promoted early due to having a hellish work ethic and a mind like a steel trap. She's a textbook Type-A, and yet will happily roll around in the mud with Oinkers for hours. A little aloof and standoffish, she's better with reading anomalies than she is with people. However, she had a loving girlfriend - vet school student Avery - who visited often and seemed to be the perfect match - until she dumped Lakshmi out of the blue and went missing two months later. Lakshmi's been even more reserved ever since…
Timeline: Lakshmi joined after getting her PhD in 2016 - at which point she had been living with Avery for a while. Avery disappeared in 2019… And now, two years later, Lakshmi has been assigned to the detail of SCP-5760 - a young woman transformed into a monstrous creature, who has a strange fondness for Lakshmi…
***
Dr. Jason Hendricks: Forty-two years old, black hair, trout-shaped birthmark on his cheek. Despite the fact that he looks like he's had enough of your shit, Hendricks is quite personable, having spent the majority of his time at the Foundation at Site-87, aka "S & C Plastics", or, as it is more derisively known, "that one R&D site that may as well be staffed by Serpent's Hand members". 87 is known for a more lax attitude towards its staff, which has led to increased morale and productivity, as well as the researchers often having bad senses of humor and worst tastes in TV Shows.
He's an expert on American Parazoology, and was transferred here with his research, and half a dozen specimens of various anomalous creatures from the Wisconsonian Wilds. He's relatively old guard, so he will insist on using the term "Cryptid". He will, under no circumstances, approach an insect for any reason other than to squash it.
Timeline: Originally hailing from Cleveland, Dr. Hendricks worked at Nexus Surveillance Site-87 in Sloth's Pit, Wisconsin up until January 2016. Following an incident the previous Christmas where he was severely injured in a scuffle with a Class-5 lycanthrope, as well as a second repeat of the "Keter Skeeter " incident, Dr. Hendricks was transferred to Area-12 on an allegedly temporary basis.
- 1972: Dr. Jept first employed.
- 1981: Area-12 constructed and Parazoology Department formed. Dr. Jept promoted to Director.
- 2010: Construction of Site-83 is completed.
- 2014: Dr. Jept steps down after serious injury. Dr. Glover takes his place as Director.
- 2015: Brendan joins the department.
- 2016: Dr. Agarwal and Dr. Hendricks join the department. Sister facility built for SCP-2952.
- 2020: Dr. Agarwal is promoted to Senior Researcher in Site-83.
Articles
Confirmed:
- SCP-2282: Goat - llama66613
- SCP-2514: Dr. Wondertainment's Make-The-Tears-Go-Away Pony - mlister
- SCP-2584: Loop Snakes - llama66613
- SCP-2779: Oinkers - Rimple
- SCP-2633: Narcotic Crustaceans - Solo
- SCP-2974: Dried and Salted Lizard - SpectralDragon
- SCP-2829: Liposlugtion - Weryllium
- SCP-2895: Stingy - Roget
- SCP-2856: Motherhood - shaggydredlocks
- SCP-2742: Caelivorous Remnants - 9Volt
Pending:
- Lesbian Hunger Doggos - AbsentmindedNihilist (agreed to crossover tale, see In Progress)
- SCP-2337: Dr. Spanko - daveyoufool (agreed, not yet edited)
In Progress:
- Oinkers / LHD crossover tale - Rimple
- SCP-3005: Title Pending - Rimple
- ihp's gonna tie in S&C Plastics
- Site-234 Crossover Tale - DrBleep
- Animal Deity thing - weryllium
- Squirrel War - Westydude
- Something by you?
If you'd like to add to this, let me know! We're always open to new voices, new stories etc.
yeah she's hiding under my beanbag rn giggling away
omg
she's an idiot
I'm a bit heavier obv so maybe it hasn't kicked in yet idk
but like
you're not the right person to say this to but w/e
I think she's it
hey, I felt the same way when we were together
gonna to ask her to move in with you?
I'm going to ask her to marry me.
oh, DAMN
after the referendum or
Yeah. That day.
not gonna make it a scene or anything but
she'd enjoy a scene
maybe? not risking it
hang on shv
HEY JAMIEEE <3
hey Siobhán
<3
sorry she took my phone
shr's ticklng meto get it back
ha
that's ok
say hi to her from me
tell her to give you a kiss ^^
she burped on me instead >.<
like, into my mouth
ewww
it's ok I pushed her off the sofa n now she's just watching the movie
her head's on my knee n I'm picking out floor lint from her hair
this feels like on of those movie moments
god maybe the brownies ARE kicking in
I get it
it's its own kind of drug
its its its its its
can you give me the number for that woman who made your bracelet
ohhhh that's perfect
Siobhán loved her when we were together
for the ring?
ye
I don't hve the number on me rn but I'll get it to you soon
k <3
this is maybe weird, but - you deserve this, after everything
love?
I mean sure but like
specifically Siobhán
I think I get what you mean. That means a lot, from you
one second
kjvrsrb
BYE JAME SHES PUTTING AWAY HER PHONE NOW AND KISSING ME INSTEAD
alright. take care of each other.
OK
Operation ÓverMeta
TO: PATAPHYSICS DEPARTMENT(ALL)
Ladies,
As many of you are aware, Pataphysics command has been working on an update on Dr. Swann's Narrative Sandwich model to keep us up to date with Metanarrativics' recent research. The document has now been released, and can be found here.
The gist of this update is the incorporation of Doctor Huever's Hypercanon theory, which holds that our reality is not a single narrative bulk below the Alpha layer, but an n-dimensional set of narrative planes connecting at defined conceptual points. The most notable concentration of these points is, of course, the Database. While the formation of these narrative planes is still being studied, the strongest coherent factor between them is Database Causal Inclusions - that is to say, instances of swn001-1 ("Horror Writer Entities").
Our very own Operation FLAT HORIZON ("The Grand Crosslinking") has shown some success thus far in incorporating these planes, thus reducing their multiplicity. Our grasp on the Alpha layer has greatly increased in the last month alone as such. Knowing this, I propose we move to stage two of Operation ÓverMeta. With research into the mechanics of SCP-1304 and observation of SCP-2916-1 and SCP-2747, subnarrative entities capable of acting on and escaping to their upper layer, Procedure Kuzco-Bueller has been developed by Subnarrativics, utilising SCP-826, for the purpose of full narrative extraction - taking fictional entities and bringing them into our reality. We plan to create a task force of hypernarrative entities with this procedure, enlisting the aid of our standard scout as a recruiter, with the purpose of creating a new narrative plane under our influence that intersects with other narrative planes. Put into plain English: we're going to make a canon.
Many of you may be wondering why I'm explaining so many concepts to you in this missive. After all, this is old hat to anyone who's worked here for more than a few months. Some of the cleverest among you may already suspect the answer. Ladies, this letter is our canon's introduction. Welcome to the adventures of MTF-ι-0 ("NN"), reader. God help us, let's not get deleted.
-Dr. Penelope Panagiotopolous, Head of Pataphysics.
The Crew:
Name: | Gordon Dancer | ID: | MTF-ι-0-1 | Callsign: | Nocter |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
Position: | Squad Leader | Recovered from: | Helm, G. (2015) Stronger Than Fiction. Paris, France: Hachette. | ||
Member Bio: | |||||
Gordon is a persistent narrative entity who remembers all works he is placed in with respect to the chronology of his upper layer. He therefore remembers all drafts, works and fanworks he is placed into with total clarity. Gordon has gained a notable internet following which places him within many crossover fanworks, primarily written fan fiction and fan art. Prior to extraction, it was often seen that these fanworks would, over time, change to reflect Gordon's knowledge and memory. This was widely believed to be the work of the author as a continuation of Gordon's story, and were tracked on the web page www.reddit.com/r/whereintheworldisgordondancer. Since extraction, these edits have ceased. Gordon has has expressed extreme displeasure in his role within the canon, and claims to have precognitive abilities stemming from the author "writing the end first like the fucking twat he is". Gordon has said numerous times that this story "does not fucking end well", but refuses to elaborate on this statement. |
Name: | Barker Sullivan | ID: | MTF-ι-0-2 | Callsign: | Intro |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
Position: | Specialist | Recovered from: | Kaufmann, C. (2002) Unpeople. Manhattan, New York: HarperCollins. | ||
Member Bio: | |||||
Barker is an adaptive narrative entity who shifts in abilities, form and identity to suit the narrative she is currently placed in. Barker is the only character to appear in all 12 short stories within Unpeople. She also appears in the blurb and special thanks, and narrates the introduction and author biography. Regardless of physical form, presentation, and personality, Barker will always identify as female. In most of their identities, Barker has been diagnosed with Autistic Spectrum Disorder or some equivalent. Following extraction, Barker has assumed the form of a battle-hardened Jack of All Trades type, formerly the head of MTF-κ-19. The narrative requirement for this form is unknown. A recent paper, Pataphysical Anomaly Recursion both preceding and following Procedure Kuzco-Bueller, puts forth the hypothesis that Barker's anomalous ability to adapt to a narrative is simply a by-product of adapting to fit into this canon's metanarrative. No way to test this hypothesis has yet been put forth. |
Name: | The Overvoid Lurk | ID: | MTF-ι-0-xx | Callsign: | operation-overmeta |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
Position: | Right in front of you | Recovered from: | Morrison, G. (2012) Intergalactic. Berkeley, California: Image Comics. | ||
Member Bio: | |||||
Overvoid is a narrative narrative entity appearing both as and within a text. Overvoid initially appeared as a copy of Intergalactic #8 within Intergalactic#8, discovered by the character Ignoble Steed. At the end of the issue, it was revealed that Overvoid was also the narrator of Wanderlust, having gained sentience through its own presence within the text. Overvoid's presence can be detected within a work when descriptors, text boxes and occasionally background text begin referring to themselves in the first person or attempting to converse with the reader. Possible relation to SCP-426 is being researched. Upon extraction, I became this webpage, hosted as a single HTML document both within our current layer/plane and the Alpha layer13. I'm an invaluable resource, they say, though they're rather annoyed I only allow them glimpses at me in moments of need. I'm a narrative device as much as the rest of them, and they really need to respect my structure - if they had a handy roadmap at all times, where on earth would the conflict be? I'm sorry, I'm babbling. We really should get along to our final member… |
Name: | Reginald Impel | ID: | MTF-ι-0-null | Callsign: | Dude in the Corner |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
Position: | Foetal | Recovered from: | N/A | ||
Member Bio: | |||||
Reggie presented himself to the Pataphysics department on 26 Oct. 2015, claiming to be a self-insert character for Horror Writer Entity swn001-1-RMPL ("Rimple"). Reggie is an extremely talented hacker and former head of the Foundation's IT department who hacked the Pataphysics database and figured out the implications of our research. Reggie claims to have no real backstory or personality of his own, which our research confirms. As attempts to remove Reggie from the narrative have proven unsuccessful, Reggie has been been assigned to MTF-ι-0, and is to accompany them at all times to allow for plot progression. Reggie is to be regularly acknowledged for the purposes of nominal inclusion within the story. Reggie is classified as an irritating narrative entity. |
Director Panagiotopolous stood at the head of the table, lost for words.
"What on earth have I got myself into with you two?"
Evidently not quite lost, then. Gordon and Jasmine sat opposite her, both frowning.
"Here, it wasn't my fucking idea to-" Gordon was interrupted by Reggie, screaming through his gag. "Right, Reggie's here too. Whatever. Point is, it wasn't my idea to drag me up here. Fred made me think I'd be escaping the wanky meta bullshit by coming here."
"That's on us, yes." Penelope said, her tone unapologetic.
"It's fucking on them," Gordon growled, jabbing a finger toward the ceiling. "The idiot who wrote us. You're no more real than we are."
Jasmine pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing dramatically. "This is a terrible way to start the story," she said, to nobody in particular. "You realise this is the start of the story, right?"
Gordon hesitated for a second, then groaned as he sensed it himself. "Why do you think he's-" He stopped as it clicked. "Because he doesn't know where to go with us! He's just writing, seeing where it takes him."
"So, wait, this isn't going in the final story, then? Is this even real? For us, I mean? What happens if he gets bored and just
Draft 2:
"So, ok, we're fighting a big tree?" Sally asked quizzically, looking up from the notepad she was doodling in.
Penelope tapped the whiteboard again, gesturing to her scribbled diagrams. "A narrative tree. A choose-your-own adventure with branching paths. We need you to traverse it. As you're the most familiar with impermanent reality as a writing gimmick, you'll be leading the task force for this mission."
Sally glanced over to Gordon, picking his teeth in the corner. "Surely Gordon's more qualified? Some of his fans have got to have experimented with Twine or some shit back in the day."
"They did, yes. It was a rather popular trend for a few weeks. But he tended to… bulldoze his way through them, as he is wont to with most things. No branching paths, no reader choice. Hardly stories at all, really. That was after the time loop trend, though, so he was… rather unhinged at the time." There was a rare look of pity on the director's face, and for the first time Sally considered the full implications of having to remember your past iterations.
It was hard to feel bad for the asshole kicking Reggie in the shins, though.
"I guess that's that, then. Adventure, here we
Draft 3:
Gordon raised his head, alarmed.
"We're in a masturbatory draft loop!" he barked. "Someone say something interesting, grab the readers' attentions."
"Look, this
Draft 4:
isn't working."
Sandra14 scratched her nose, curious. "What isn't?"
"This drafty thing he's trying. He's being too clever and meta, not paying enough attention to the story. In a couple hundred words
Draft 5:
we haven't done anything remotely fucking interesting."
"Come on, that's bullshit, we've-"
At the head of the table, Penelope coughed, and all heads turned. It was a rather commanding cough.
"Gordon is absolutely right. We've already lost…" She looked down at her phone, tapping the screen a couple times. "…two readers, if our metrics are correct. We'll earn a downvote for heavyhanded exposition with this very conversational track, but I believe it will be worth it. I have a plan."
Gordon shrugged, his enormous jacket audibly shifting.
"Downvotes don't mean fuckall. I've done the Reddit thing. They only delete if the author puts some horrible shit in." He scowled. "I still remember that shit, though. It fucks you up. The kind of shit the author isn't even comfortable having me mention right now."
"This isn't Reddit, we don't think. We don't even know whether upper truth has a Reddit. Our research shows that when data points drop below a certain merit threshold, they disappear entirely, from all planes."
Penelope's assistant15, Mary, piped up from behind her. "Not all, Dr. Panagiotopolous."
"Right, of course." Penelope rubbed her cheekbone, prominent under her thin skin. "There are occasional instances where they remain on just a single plane, utterly fruitless. That plane is always the original budding plane, the one belonging to their writer entity." She frowned at16 Mary, a silent warning not to interrupt her again. "That can't be relied upon, though. It's altogether too rare, and not at all in line with our mission."
The team nodded along like they understood. Gordon actually sort of did get it17. Gordon eventually broke the silence.
"You said you had a plan. Spill."
"There's a few data points - very very few, hard to identify - which seem to be immune to 'deletion', as Gordon put it."
"The fuck is wrong with the word deletion? That's a perfectly normal word"
"Of course, yes. I didn't mean anything by it. The point is, no matter how far these data points fall in merit, they seem to be immune to the rules that govern all the others."
Gordon huffed, but didn't retort.
Penelope continued, getting into her stride. "These immune data points… We initially thought they might be somehow central to baseline truth - consensus canon - and therefore protected against demerit deletion. But too many of them are totally random, not at all important. For the most part, only two or three planes intersect at them, despite exceedingly high referential factors. We've detected a few inaccessible ones that aren't even within the narrative bulk. A couple of them are ancient documents, terminal logs, one data point was just the fact a researcher died. But for the most part…they're personnel files. I admit, we were utterly stumped at that. One hypothesis was that there was an outside force protecting those of us it could, bestowing us with permanence we weren't guaranteed." Penelope smiled subtly, the ghost of a dimple appearing on her cheek. "I liked that one. Gave me some comfort. But that didn't fit with the other protected data points. So what the hell was it? Took years for someone to piece it together. I think it was Dr. Huever, in the end. They were author pages."
"If we can work together we might, maybe, be able to anchor ourselves to an author page, conceptually. Protect ourselves as a potential piece of headcanon by sheer virtue of being undeletable. It's not the best plan, but at this rate we're probably hemorrhaging points. It might be the only way to save ourselves."
Aubrey was nodding for real this time. "I'm in. What do we need to do?"
"Well, that's easy. We pick a writer entity with a cluster of planes, but no protected ones. Then we break into their data points. Violently insert ourselves." She turned to Reggie, still crying in the corner. "What did you say your writer entity was called again?"
"Why the fuck are we in the Sahara Desert??" Kelly yelled, pulling her scarf up over her face to shield her mouth and nose from the barrage of sand blowing past MTF-ι-0, crouched behind the peak of a large sand dune. The rest of her sentence was lost in the wind18.
Gordon19 lay hunkered behind a patch of dead scrub, comparing the set of coordinates they'd been given with his GPS.
"Because this is the location of Site 91. Weren't you listening earlier? Christ." Gordon frowned, scratching at his smudged handwriting "It should be here, just over the ridge. That, or we're in Desert Palace Zone, but I don't think that's a place in this reality." He looked around. "No runways, so yeah."
Kelly rolled her eyes, but behind her protective sunglasses she doubted it came through. "I mean, why the fuck is Site 91 in the middle of nowhere?"
"Um, I think it's a background worldbuilding thing," Reggie piped up from behind Gordon. "He likes to put those in. Like how he adds all the f-"
"Since when do you talk?" Gordon seemed genuinely surprised. "Seriously, I thought the whole joke was that you were a mute punching bag."
"I'm not a joke," Reggie muttered, eyes downcast20.
"We're getting off-track, guys." Kelly raised her binoculars again to observe the plain beyond the dune. "I'm not seeing any facility here."
"Jesus, you really weren't paying attention in the brief, were you?" Gordon said, pulling himself up and slinging his backpack on. It was bizarre, seeing him still deeply entrenched in his heavy jacket despite the overwhelming heat of the desert. "It's fucking underground. That's why it's so hard to break into."
"I was too distracted by you rummaging the meeting room around for sharp objects," she said, frowning. She sighed heavily. "Alright, stick to the plan, I guess."
"We have a plan?"
"I was hoping if I said we did, the story would magically make it so we had one, but you've ruined that now"
"Ah, right."
"So, plan of action?"
Gordon put on his own sunglasses, staring down into the plain. His beard flowed majestically in the wind.
"Fuck if I know."
***
Getting in was much easier than they'd anticipated. Turns out if you manage to find the unmarked 10m^2 patch of sand that masks the elevator to Site 91 in 9 million km^2 of desert, they just let you in. They descended swiftly, and were met with the surprised face of a passing researcher, heavily burdened with a stack of files.
"You new, or should I be calling security right now?" He took a nervous step back as they exited the elevator "Trick question, I've already alerted security. Sorry, protocol." He glanced at Gordon and laughed nervously. "Plus the big guy is scary"
Kelly withdrew a Foundation ID from her pocket. She hoped clearance level 5 was enough - Penelope had told her it should cover anything she needed. As the researcher's eyes widened, her hopes were fulfilled.
"Shit, fuck, sorry. I'm a mess today. Uh, Ken Jonah, Infected Unit." He stuck out his hand, and Kelly duly shook it. "Major subject loss earlier, down to two infected at one point. We're initiating secondary vineyard procedures now to bring stock back up, but meanwhile the paperwork is through the roof." He shrugged, indicating the stack of papers he was carrying. "Hope you understand, Overseer."
Kelly nodded, careful not to let her face betray her surprise. "That's what we're here for. We need access to your main files on the virus."
Dr. Jonah hesitated. "Containment procedures require express permission from two members of the O5 council to view documentation on 2559." He squinted, suspicious. "And I need IDs for the two with you, Overseer. We'll need to run it by Director Jua before-" His speech was brought to a sudden halt as a fist connected with his face, hard. He fell to the ground in a flurry of paper.
Gordon stood over Dr. Jonah's unconscious body, rubbing his knuckles. "I've hacked the system," he said, looking back at Kelly and Reggie with a wide grin.
"Oh, good fucking going, Gordon! How the fuck are we supposed to access the files now?!" Kelly shoved Gordon as hard as she could and he swayed, slightly. "Security is gonna come any minute, we're fucked! If we don't get the files, we're just an unprotected story. We'll get deleted, no question!"
Gordon shrugged. "Yeah, fuck it, I'm fine with never being canon. Preferably, I'd go back in time and stop that bellend," he gestured upward, "from ever coming up with me."
Reggie raised his hand nervously. It went unnoticed.
"Maybe you're fine with it, but I'm not, you asshole! I don't want to fail, I don't want to die, and I don't want to never freaking exist." Kelly was pacing, flapping her hands in frustration.
"Guys," Reggie muttered under his breath.
"It doesn't even matter for you, Barker21. Kelly. Whatever the fuck your real name is. You'll wake up in your next story, free from these memories, free from this life. I'm stuck with all the shit I've been put through forever! You have no idea how bad it gets out there, in wild narrative."
"Guys," Reggie said, a little louder.
"Shut up, Reggie!" Kelly barked22."You're a selfish prick, Gordon. You know that, right? Maybe you're even a little proud of it, self-righteous. There's nothing to be fucking proud of in fucking, fucking others over because you don't care enough to even think of extending a hand to-"
"GUYS I'M A FUCKING HACKER" Reggie yelled23.
They turned.
"Oh, hey, yeah." Gordon sniffed. "That."
***
… The Ethics Committee has authorised an update of amnestic procedures on MTF-υ-4 members to encapsulate romantic, sexual and paternal feelings associated with deceased teammates, effective as of 15/12/2015.
Gordon scratched at his beard.
Gordon and Kelly stood behind Reggie in a cramped office, trying to ignore the lilting alarm signalling their presence.
"You guys were reading through it too fast, I didn't catch all of it." Kelly was biting her lip, worried. "Is it, like… when you know about it you get infected? Are we infected now?"
Gordon and Reggie whipped their heads around, their eyes wide.
"Ah," said Gordon, "fuck."
Kelly's nose was bleeding.
"Guys? What's-" she reached up to her face, touching it to the rivulet of blood running past her mouth, accidentally smearing a streak across her cheekbone. "Oh, ok. Right, yeah, fair." She looked up at the other two, her eyes betraying the fear behind her brave face. "I'd really prefer not to die, you guys."
"This can't be normal," Reggie said, scrolling hurriedly through the article. "It doesn't fit any of the data on infection time. It might be something else?"
Gordon was frozen, staring at Kelly. "No, I've seen this before. T-virus. Badly written fanfic I was in for a few months. In all the other chapters, it took a couple hours, even a day to set in, but the author wanted to make things seem more dangerous, didn't care about continuity, so when my partner got bit… she changed instantly." He turned his head toward Reggie, not willing to let Kelly out of his peripheral vision. "Don't you get it? She's a plot device, and this thing is in her now. It'll spread at whatever pace keeps the story going."
In the silence that followed, Gordon's phone started ringing24. The noise rang loudly in the cramped room. He patted his jacket down and pulled out a blocky Nokia from his jacket, crumpled tissues and banana peels falling to the floor. It was Penelope.
Gordon thumbed the green phone icon as Kelly fell to the floor in a coughing fit. "Busy, Pen," he growled.
"Yes, I know." Penelope sounded even more curt than usual, hard to hear under heavy static. "I've already read this part. Kelly is- " she was cut off under a swell of static fuzz. Kelly was pushing herself up from the floor, her arms weak under her. She slipped in a puddle of blood and slapped back down. " - all your fault."
"Yeah, I didn't catch any of that, but Kelly is really sick and it's maybe sort of a tiny bit my fault. Why are you calling?"
Penelope sighed heavily on the other side of the line. "Because that's what I do. I insisted on Overvoid showing me a section of himself, and this is all he was able to show me."
"Wha?"
"I'm in a submarine right now, hence the static that was mentioned."
"No, wait, go back to Overvoid showing you parts of himself25"
"I need to get through my script."
"Make this part of your script."
"You think it isn't?"
Gordon willed himself not to throw the phone at the ground. "I'm tired of this meta shit, Pen. There's a girl dying on the floor beside me. I can deal with my own nonexistence, but this is fucking cruel."
"Then shut up for a second and I'll say what I need to." She cleared her throat, overenunciating her words. "I, Penelope Panagiotopolous, am currently watching a giant squid fight an albino whale. I believe the squid is winning. Too much blood clouding the water to really be sure. There, done. Penelope, the coordinates you need to get to are 49° 19' 4.6596'' N, 17° 24' 8.4384'' W. Goodbye, Gordon. Ask Overvoid for help."
At the exact moment Penelope hung up, there was a bang on the door.
"That'll be security," Reggie said, still at the computer. "Was that Penelope?"
Gordon nodded. "She was no fucking use. Talked about watching animals fighting in a submarine"
"It's probably some worldbuilding shit, like before." The banging was getting louder and faster, more guards joining the first. "We need to get out soon if there's any hope for Kelly. Finish the story before she dies."
"What if her death is the end of the story?"
Reggie shrugged. "You know I don't really understand any of this shit. You're right, I'm just-"
Kelly started screaming, louder than the alarm, louder than it seemed like it should be possible for her to scream.
"HOW THE FUCK CAN I HEAR YOU?!" Gordon yelled.
e found it. Third drawer down, fifth across. The gun held only one bullet, but
ing and slashing and screaming, screaming, screaming his lungs out, willing himself onward throu
ntersection and took the right on instinct, calling for Reggie to follow him, Kelly propped up semi-consc
the keypad. Six digits. The day his daughter had been born. The elevator dinged open and out stepp
nd concentrated hard, cradling Kelly's body, willing for a jump cut, not wanting to remember every detail of what he'd had to
SUFRG MUVR
The information rushed into Gordon's head, images stitching into a story as he filled in the blanks. He nodded and dashed for the wall of filing cabinets.
***
Gordon blinked hard, fat tears streaming down his face. Had it worked? Had he skipped the-
Yes, he had. He could already feel the memories fading away, nothing but Overvoid's bright flashes remaining. What had he done? Where were they? He looked around and recognised the bank of sand they'd begun on, all those paragraphs ago. Everything the same, but everything changed. He looked down to Kelly, in his arms. Her dark skin was bleached white from the palm to the shoulder on both sides, the spread almost visibly fast. Her face was a Rorschach paint splatter as she stared at him through bloodshot eyes, her cheeks and lips pale.
"I'm… my lungs itch, Gordon. I can't take this much long-" She was cut off by a heavy coughing fit, clumps of blood and phlegm splashing over Gordon's jacket. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, shaky. "Help me get this off," she said, pulling at her shirt. "I can't breathe."
As he unbuttoned her jacket, his hands shaking and sticky with copious amounts of blood, she continued, rambling. "You're an asshole, Gordon, but get it. It's because you have to go through shit like this, right?" Another coughing fit, harder than the first, racked her body. "Fucking edgy asshole authors, right?" She grinned, her body limp as he lifted her gently and pulled her jacket out from beneath her. "You're a good man, Gordon."
"You know that's not true." He propped her against a rock and pulled her t-shirt over her head. He blinked as he saw her mottled skin, the white letters across her chest. SUFRG MUVR. What the fuck. What the fuck.
"Fake it until you make it, right Gordon?" She was staring into nothingness, her eyes fading. This was it. "Just remember…"
The howling wind caught her final words, swiping them away from Gordon and across the barren desert.
"Gordon? Gordon, are you alright?"
Gordon's eyes snapped open and he jumped up, toppling out of the chair he'd been sleeping in. His surroundings were unfamiliar. Some sort of office building. Oh, shit, the Office? He couldn't see Jim or Pam, so probably not. Who was here? Two women, one man. He could take them, easy. Where was Kelly? Dead, Kelly was dead.
He needed to move fast.
He sprinted for the door. A young woman with pink streaks in her hair stepped in front of him, coiled to attack. He tried to swing a punch, but she ducked under it and rammed her shoulder into his gut, then pushed herself up under his armpit and twisted with a vice grip on his sleeve, using his momentum to throw him over her back. He slammed down hard into the wood floor, and she hopped on top of him.
"Gordon! Gordon! It's me." She was glaring down at him, her knee pressing into his throat. Who the fuck? He blinked. He'd seen those eyes. Piercing blue. It was-
"Princess Peach?"
"What?!"
"Princess Peach! Jesus, am I back to normal? Fucking crossover limbo again?" The girl climbed off him, something like pity crossing her face. Or disgust? "What is this, a save quest? If Bowser comes through that wall right now, I swear to fuck I'll actually come save you this time, alright?" He sat up, almost pleading. "I'll save you and we'll have fucking tea and crumpets and it'll be-"
"Gordon! It's me, Samantha! We've been working together for a month?" She growled, then showed him her Foundation security clearance. MTF-ι-0-2. Barker.
"Oh." Gordon took a second to process, sniffed, then clambered up and dusted himself off. "Right, yeah. You. Little Miss Chameleon28."
Samantha frowned. "Just call me Hogwash, ok? That's the codename we settled on between stories."
"Yeah, no, that's bollocks, it changes. You used to be Intro." He scratched at his beard. "You used to be lots of things."
"Right now you're delaying the story." Gordon turned to the speaker, one of the other people in the room. Obviously Penelope, now he looked properly29. And this place was obviously just another Foundation meeting room. "We're trying to keep this going at a steady clip, and you're slowing us down with whatever this is." Penelope squinted suspiciously. "You haven't been in another story, have you?"
Tough question. "I don't think so?" he said, poking a finger toward Samantha "Barker is different now, but it still feels the same."
Penelope chewed on her lip for a second before letting it go. "OK. As I was saying before your outburst, today is your first field mission. SCP-2559. This anomaly is extremely mysterious, with a dedicated site located in the Saha-"
"Hang on, time out," Gordon interrupted, making a T with his hands "we did that already."
Penelope frowned, but pulled out her phone and tapped at it for a second. "You are correct, it seems, although none of us remember it. We have extended ourselves into a data point already! That's marvelous! Excellent work!"
"We did literally nothing." Reggie muttered.
"I guess we'll move on to our next target, then! This one should be much easier. It's in this very facility."
"Why the fuck didn't we go there first?" Gordon growled.
"Order matters, Gordon. Surely you respect that30." Penelope drew a second folder from her bag, much lighter than the first. "Here's what we have on it. SCP-2338. There seems to be some confusion about what the article even is. We're not exactly fixed in a time here."
"Sorry, what?" Barker Kelly Samantha leaned forward in her seat, concerned.
"We're… Ignore it, move on." Penelope rubbed her cheek, her expression taut. "We need to get on with the story. I… Overvoid? Requesting a jump-cut. Standard reward in it for you. We need to get on with this."
***
"Wow, that was intense." Reggie gasped, slumping against the inside of the cell door.
"What," said Gordon, leaning against the right wall "our daring break-in to one of the highest-security Foundation sites, Site-19?"
"Yeah."
"Or," " did you mean just now, our oh-so-close escape from detection by an unexpected group of armed guards?"
"Y-yeah, that too."
"So just generally the last hour or so of what we've been up to, the sort of interesting action stuff that's hard to write, but easy to let readers make up themselves, filling in the gaps?"
"Um."
Gordon punched Reggie in the arm "Don't worry about it man, we're just fucking around. Come on, yer woman should be just down the hallway."
"Ryoko Sato." Samantha interjected.
"Her, yeah."
Sato was finishing up a class when they knocked on her door, teaching32 linear algebra to a pair of33 psychic twins34. She seemed a little nervous as she exited the classroom, tying her long hair back in a quick bun. With her hair out of the way, a long maroon scar could be seen across her neck. It had been expertly treated, but it was clear the original wound had been brutal, and the mark it left was still thick and ugly, marring her otherwise smooth skin.
Sato stuck her hand out stiffly toward the group, not meeting their eyes. After a second, Samantha shook it. Sato stared intently at Samantha's nose.
"Hi. What's this about? We haven't met before." Sato blurted out. "Are you new?"
"Gosh, right to the point. Uh, I'm Sam, these are…" She realised she was at a loss to describe her fellow MTF members. Oh, hi, we're living plot points and we're here to directly extract your story relevance. Thanks! "We're sort of new," Samantha said, before Gordon could cut in with some snarky line35. "We're visiting from another section,looking for information on one of your contained anomalies?"
Sato nodded. Her gaze flickered slightly between their ID cards. "And you're coming to me specifically… 2338?"
"Uh, right. We know you're heavily involved, but we don't really know how? That might sound odd, but the department we're from…"
"It's ok, I understand we have dozens of secret departments." Sato smiled softly. "Could we, uh, take this somewhere a little more private? They're emotional memories for me, I'd prefer not to-"
"Of course, of course." Samantha motioned to put her hand on Sato's shoulder, but the woman cringed and leaned away from the contact." Why don't we take this to your office?"
"That would be good." Sato briefly met Samantha's gaze, flashing a relieved smile. "We can get some lovely tea on the way."
***
"... and I guess that's it, that's all I know. Sun-Hee is still living symbiotically within Eomi. I visit her for lessons three times a week. Today is one, actually. I'll be seeing her in…" Sato looked down at her wristwatch, then bolted out of her seat. "The time! God, it really gets away from you. I need to go see her now." Sato poured the remainder of her cold tea into a thermos flask and threw it in her handbag as she headed into the corridor outside. She paused in the doorway, mulling something over. "Thank you for this, Sam. It… helped, in some way. Opening back up."
And then she was gone, her sneakers squeaking ever so slightly on the wooden floors as she hurried off to teach.
Samantha sunk back in her chair, letting out a long sigh "That was…"
"A bit grim?"
"Yeah. That."
"Cuter than the last one."
"Twenty-two children died, Gordon."
"Right, yeah, fair point."
They fidgeted in their seats.
"So," Reggie finally said, breaking the silence. "Is that it? Head back to Pataphysics, report a job well done?"
Samantha and Gordon exchanged looks. They were both feeling it.
"There's something… incomplete here. There's a thread we're not following." Gordon twiddled with the end of his beard, thinking. "Maybe you're supposed to do something, Reggie. Or I am? Sam's the only one who's actually done anything so far."
"Right, yeah, and Void's done whatever he thinks he's done."
"Sure, yeah."
"Maybe we were supposed to-" Samantha coughed hard, her body juddering. She spluttered for a few seconds, then wiped her mouth. "Sorry. Um. A-hhmmm. Uh, maybe we were supposed to follow Sato? Go watch her with Sun-Hee, get some information that way?"
Gordon groaned, spinning in his office chair in frustration. "That's totally it, yeah. Storytelling basics, damn. How did we miss that?"
Samantha shrugged. "Emotions? Maybe we were just distracted?" She chewed her lip. "Come on, if we head now, we'll still catch a decent chunk of it."
"How the hell are we supposed to know where to go?"
"Duh," said Samantha "we ask politely."
***
It really was as simple as that. When they hadn't arrived out of nowhere in the middle of one of the Foundation's most secretive sites in the middle of the Sahara Desert, people didn't question the all-access keycard too much.
"Why the fuck are we even breaking into places?" Gordon asked, after their fifth encounter with very polite, friendly researchers happy to point them toward 2338's containment tank. "Seriously, does Penelope just get off on the idea of us in balaclavas?"
"I guess it's like a story thing?"
"Fucking story things"
"Like - yeah, fuck them - like if there was no conflict we'd be dropping more readers?" Samantha was speaking distractedly, counting door numbers.
"Wasn't the point of all this bullshit to protect the story from being deleted on the assumption it would be unreadable garbage anyway?"
"I guess, yeah. Bu I guess in another way, for our own sake, it's like- Oh, hey, here we are."
"It's like what?"
"We're here, we're at the containment tank"
"Oh, right. Yeah. The fucking- the place we're looking for. I knew that."
They slipped into the door marked Observation Room, careful to shut the door securely behind them38 and slipped into two creaky plastic seats across the room from a pair of researchers grabbing lunch who gave them dirty looks for the intrusion, but didn't bother them. Down in the cell, on a balcony built so Sato could be at eye level with Sun-Hee, an animated conversation was going on in sign, entirely wordlessly. The girl was suspended in the tank within the semi-translucent bell of an enormous jellyfish, which bobbed slightly in the water but otherwise was pretty much static.
"You getting anything, B- Sam?"
"What sort of anything?"
"Like, of what they're saying. You've gotta have done some ASL in college or whatever, right? You know what the wiggly fingers mean?"
"I.. have, yes. But that's not common, why would you assume-"
"You're a convenient plot device, Sam. You're built for this. You gotta get that in your head sooner or later."
Samantha frowned, but turned to observe the two in the pit. "Uh, something about stretching, tentacles. Backwards… hands? She's talking about the future… or the past, I'm not sure."
"Oh, shit, did you feel that? You did it, story is over."
Samantha cocked her head slightly. "Shit, yeah, I feel it too!" The couple in the opposite corner shushed them, then went back to their conversation. Samantha and Gordon fell silent, watching transfixed as Sun-Hee begain to spin and twist within the jellyfish, a topsy-turvy dance full of childlike abandon and an odd degree of elegance. They got the sense of Sun-Hee moving with the jellyfish, her movements embodying them both, frantic and serene. The girl's multicoloured cape swirled behind her heavily, rainbow feathers falling off and forming a snowglobe flurry around her. On the balcony, Sato removed her shoes and began to dance alongside Sun-Hee, complementing her actions with graceful swirling movements. She let out a light laugh, and Sun-Hee stopped for a second to respond, miming a smile on her featureless face before returning to play.
"I told you this was cute." whispered Gordon "Nobody dancing in the other place."
"Shut up, Gordon."
Gordon nodded, and they turned back to the tank. Silent but together, they watched on.
Gordon and Anke sat opposite each other in the van, avoiding eye contact. they hadn't been able to talk to each other since 2338, and neither was sure why.
"Look, said Reggie, breaking the silence, "I'll just say it, ok? You two had sex, and now it's weird, but it doesn't need to be weird." His attempt at a confident expression withered under their joint glare.
"Reggie, I swear to God if you ever insinuate I slept with Gordon again, I will find a knife and forcibly carve a meme into your chest," Anke said, surprised at her own venom.
Reggie opened mouth to try to say something, but choked on his own words.
- Road trip to Vermont!
- They get a busted up MTF truck.
- Antics?
- For once, they just knock on the damn door
- Staff are totally cool to let them take a look as long as they have clearance
- Penelope has all the clearance.
- They go hang with Oinkers for a bit (link to 2779)
- Overvoid talks about how he'd really like to pet Oinkers but can't, and oh woe is me, I'm just a living story, none of them know my pain.
- "I love anticlimactic endings."
- Beastie breaks containment
- "FUCK YOU AUTHOR"
- They help recontain it
- As they're leaving, Gordon reveals Oinkers, hidden in his parka
- END
"Alright, what's next? Hack the database? Fight Godzilla? Reverse the polarity of the neutron flow?" Gordon was pumped, pacing back and forth in the meeting room, ready to get going to their next mission. "This universe is so much more fun than the dA crossovers made me think!"
Penelope was seated, as usual, at the head of the table, unfazed
"Actually, that's it." she said, a tiny hint of disappointment undercutting her matter-of-fact tone "For now, at least. That's all the associated data points."
Gordon stopped pacing. It took him quite a while to process what she'd said. Finally, he sniffed, then sat down beside Samantha. She handed him Oinkers, and he absentmindedly scratched the pig behind the ears.
"Right, yeah, fair enough. We're done, then? You're sending us back to our stories?" Oinkers started squealing in his arms, so he set her on the table and she happily trotted over to Reggie. His shoulders had hunched back up, raising those defensive barriers that had served him so well as a narrative puppet.
"Well, um, no. We don't actually know how to put you back in. I'm afraid you're stuck here. We'll set you up with some nice accommodations, give you a call whenever a new data point is added. Although our research indicates that it will be added retroactively."
"So this is always the end? We just… stop?" Samantha's brow was creased, confused "That doesn't seem right"
"Anticlimactic, yes. Such is the way of the world. Do you three have any questions before we end this meeting? This should be the last time we meet in an official capacity."
Nobody spoke.
"Very well. Overvoid? Anything you feel you should add?"
Penelope nodded, and began sorting her papers. "Ok, then. I believe we've achieved our purpose - established ourself as a canonical or non-canonical data point on…" She checked her phone "13 planes and counting, all while embedding ourself in a concept protected from demerit deletion. I will allocate $85 of our remaining budget on this project into each of your respective accounts, to facilitate suitable celebration of a job well done."
"This still doesn't feel right. This isn't an end." Samantha was visibly stressing now, her hands just starting to flap.
Gordon stood up, stretching.
"Fuck it. Who cares. Let the asshole readers be disappointed. It's time to go live a normal life. We're finally fucking free."
There was a long silence as everyone let that sink in.
"That was a nice final line, Gordon" Reggie said, sincere "Shows character growth, acknowledges that we're still meta and stuff. Genuine, but still dismissive." He sniffed, smiling.
"Wait, shit, did I ruin it?"
WORK IN PROGRESS OMG DON'T READ
Item #: OCULUS
Object Class:
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-OCULUS is to be kept in storage container 1338 in Site-IE3. It is not to be removed from its container, except for testing on SCP-OCULUS-1, without written permission from the Site Director.
SCP-OCULUS-1 is to be kept within storage container 1338 alongside SCP-OCULUS. It is to be removed from storage once a week for testing with SCP-OCULUS. SCP-OCULUS-1 has requested a view in its storage container, and has been provided with a live video feed of a lakeside.
Description: SCP-OCULUS is an XYX-brand handheld retinal scanner. There is evidence of tampering, with scratches around the screws, although the internal construction seems to be identical to other scanners of its make. The model number is filed off.
SCP-OCULUS exhibits an anomalous effect when a subject has their eyes scanned with it - the resulting scans, which are logged as .jpg files, include a metadata tag titled "Additional Notes", which commonly contains personal information about the subject. How the scanner collects this information, and how it chooses what kinds of information to include in its additional notes, is unknown.
The nature and length of the information contained within a given Additional Notes tag are unpredictable, ranging between 12 and 1600 words.
File Type | JPEG |
---|---|
MIME Type | image/jpeg |
Comment | blah blah blah |
Encoding Process | Baseline DCT, Huffman coding |
Bits Per Sample | 8 |
Color Components | 3 |
File Size | 28 kB |
File Type Extension | jpg |
Image Size | 400 × 300 |
Y Cb Cr Sub Sampling | YCbCr4:4:4 (1 1) |
Hey Ruairi,
Sorry, yeah, I know it's a weird thing to have logged. I should probably have been clearer. I think there's been some sort of database mix-up, maybe. When I requested metadata from the eye scans made during the hack, I got a bunch of personal information as well as the normal stuff? I looked into it a bit more since logging that , and the first one I can find is from a month or so ago (file name is 20080909001.jpg, if that helps). Looks like Alexandra's eye - you know those little pinky flecks she has at the bottom of her iris? Anyway, in the comment section I'm seeing "Born 7/12/84. Has one sister, Paula. Prefers 'Lex'. Is annoyed people seem to be more concerned about Obama/McCain than the damn housing bubble popping."
Some of those are really weirdly specific.Could just be someone playing a prank, but could be something more sinister? I've spent way too much time on this today, gotta get the quarterly report out, so I'm gonna leave it to you to investigate further. Let me know if you need my help, I guess?
Thanks,
SonyaOn 11 October 2008 at 08:33, Ruairí <ei.erucesrie.liam|2llennodo.iriaur#ei.erucesrie.liam|2llennodo.iriaur> wrote:
| Sonya -
| Not sure what you mean about "extra information in the metadata". Could you send me an example? We're very busy after this hack, obviously, so I can't be going on a big search.
| Ta, RuairíSéanadh Ríomhphoist/ Email Disclaimer
Tá an ríomhphost seo agus aon chomhad a sheoltar leis faoi rún agus is lena úsáid ag an seolaí agus sin amháin é. Is féidir tuilleadh a léamh anseo.
This e-mail and any files transmitted with it are confidential and are intended solely for use by the addressee. Read more here.
Item #: GONEGIRL
Object Class: Keter/Uncontained
Special Containment Procedures: All documentation concerning Dr. Daisy Glover regarding events occurring two or more days ago are to be logged within the base timeline database as Prime Truth unless otherwise specified. Documentation regarding SCP-GONEGIRL is to be compiled into a single report every thirty minutes, with discrepancies flagged for review.
Anyone reading this report is to review all data and previous tests and spend no less than two hours considering possible tests of their own. Tests are to be logged within this file and, for robustness, manually copied down onto the purple file marked "GONEGIRL TESTS", which should be located to your right, on top of the big filing cabinet.
Description: SCP-GONEGIRL is the disappearance of Dr Daisy Glover, occurring at (time) on (date). SCP-GONEGIRL always occurs precisely 48 hours before the present time.
[CAPTION: Start point of the procession, with agents surveying the area before a scheduled event. 24/12/2008.]
[CAPTION: somethingsomething]
Secure Containment Protocols: North Bull Island's Coast Guard is aware of the tell signs of a primary NNNN event, and has a direct line to Site-IE05 to alert the Foundation when these signs are noted. Embedded agents within Dublin City Council's Parks and Landscape Division remain on watch for attempts to spread this information, and should implement standard discrediting and amnestic protocols if required.
Interaction with primary NNNN events is currently limited to observation and recording. Further interaction is possible at the discretion of Site-IE05's director. Standard experimental request forms for this purpose can be found here. Tissue samples for experimentation are kept in Site-IE05's cold storage, and a selection of live specimens are maintained offsite in Area-12.
Description: SCP-NNNN is a regularly-occurring event in which a large herd of mixed pack animals appear in North Bull Island, Dublin between the hours of 9PM and 1PM. Event instances should be referred to in documentation as Processions, with a capital P. Processions occur, on average, every 24 days, and have been occurring since the construction of the Bull Island bridge in 1907. Autopsy and observation of captured animals show a number of minor physical anomalies - more details can be found in Addendum 1. To date, animal species have included (in order of first recorded appearance) donkeys, mules, elephants, reindeer, horses, camels, oxen and yaks. In 2003, a St Bernard was observed among the pack - as there was only one and it has not been seen again, it is not currently considered an expected animal.
Processions are considered to have begun when four or more pack animals wash onto Dollymount Strand within an hour window. Between this time and approximately 11.30PM GMT, animals will continue to wash ashore at increasing rates. All animals carry large packs39, and are in most ways identical to dead animals of their species, with autopsy indicating drowning as a cause of death.
At approximately 11.30PM GMT, the animals in the herd will begin to arise and proceed toward the Realt na Mara40 statue at the southmost corner of the island, and then down the concrete pathway toward the Bull Bridge. Animals will continue to read as deceased at this time, with no pulse or visible breathing. Upon reaching the Bull Bridge, animals will stop for a short time, observing the mainland, and then turn and walk back towards Dollymount Strand, walking along the water's edge for a time before turning and walking into the sea.
credit Philip Perry
“Shit jesus fucking shit fuck”
Avery punched the wheel, making her little car shake in the middle of gridlocked traffic. Her digital display read 14:12. She was late again.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck” she cursed until her lungs ran out of air, then rested her head on her hands. The car in front of her shifted half a metre, and she scooted hers forward in turn. Lakshmi was gonna be pissed. She lived the sort of magical life where plans worked out and you always knew where your keys were and you remembered to shower before getting in the car for a lunch date with your girl.
Another minor shift in traffic. She should text, right? Call? Call was more polite. But what if Lakshmi was in a meeting? What if she was with a porcupine that explodes your phone when you get a call? Aaaaaaaaa.
She’d text.
hey babe omw but stuck in traffic sorry sorry. I’ll b there in like 15 mins I swear
That was ok, right? She hit Send before she could overthink. Oh, fuck, dots. Ignore the dots, focus on the road for a second.
The road was stubbornly refusing to swallow her whole.
Her phone went off, some Shakira song she could never remember the name of.
That’s fine. We’re processing a hedgehog right now, paperwork should occupy me until you arrive anyway. Just get Brendan to let you in, they’ll show you to my new office. Xxx.
Avery squinted at the final full stop. Did that mean she was actually pissed? It was so hard to tell with people who used proper punctuation in texts… Her thought process was interrupted by a loud beep behind her. Ayyy, traffic was moving! She gunned her engine through an orange light, ignoring the flurry of beeps surrounding her.
Area 12 was pretty quiet when she pulled into the parking lot. Lakshmi usually walked in, so her space was always free for Avery to grab. She waved at Dr Patla as she passed by, sitting on a bench in a heavy parka, grabbing a smoke. Shit, what was her first name? She’d have to ask Lakshmi.
She took a second to collect herself before hitting the intercom button. Game face. Cool, chirpy, chill Avery, oozing confidence. Yeah. Time to romance the shit out of her girlfriend.
“Burlington SPCA, how can we help you?” a bright voice crackled from the speaker.
“Hey Jenny! It’s Avery, here to see Lakshmi!”
“Avery, heyyy! Let me just…” there was a loud buzz, and the door clunked open. Avery hopped out of the way as it swung outward, then slipped inside.
The reception in Area 12 was shabby and aging, but there was great life in the pictures hanging on the walls, the packed noticeboard nobody ever cleared, Jenny sitting at her desk with a bowl of candy and a big smile.
“Lakshmi’s just gonna be a bit, Avery. She’s dealing with this hedge-“
“It’s cool, she told me. She said Brendan could bring me up to her office, is that cool?” Avery shrugged off her coat and hung it up behind Jenny’s desk.
“Oh, yeah, sure! I'll just call them. They'll be happy to see you.” Jenny poked at the oversized buttons on her mobile.
After a couple minutes of chitchat with Jenny, Brendan announced their arrival with a thud, knocking over a disused umbrella stand in the next room. Avery smiled. She’d heard that many times before. Sometimes she thought they kept the stand around just as a fuck you to Brendan’s shins.
Brendan opened the door, red faced. They were dressed in a beautiful cornflour blue dress with scorch marks and mud at the hem, their hair tied up in a neat bun. It would have been an excellent outfit if it weren’t for the one and a half wellington boots they were wearing, their yellow socks poking out from a giant hole in the left toe.
“Avery! What’s up? You look nice!” Brendan went in for a bear hug, their strong arms wrapping around her. It wasn’t at all unpleasant – Brendan always managed to smell good, a combination of shampoo and barn animals that could only be described as ‘wholesome’.
“You too, dude. Except for the, uh…” Avery trailed off, gesturing vaguely to the burn marks.
“Don’t worry about that. Dragon hatchlings! I feel like Hagrid. I’m seeing about having them put in the petting zoo once they’re on their flame-retardant meds.”
Avery took a second to process.
“The petting zoo???”
Take back all her inhibitions. Today was going to be awesome.
"… unparalleled mental processing speeds, so much our equipment can't catch all of it. If you could only catch the damn thing, I'm sure we could harness- are you listening?"
Avery blinked, trying not to look vacant. She swallowed a mouthful of bean burger. "Yeah, totally. Your, uh, hedgehog… keeps setting fire to things?" She chewed her lip, trying to recall what Lakshmi had been talking about. "Glover will have your ass if you don't do the thing. The paperwork is… lots."
Lakshmi frowned. Was she concerned or irritated? Her left eyebrow was arched. That meant irritated. Shoot.
"You seem distracted. What's up? I haven't asked about your day at all." Lakshmi placed her hand on Avery's. God, she was good at covering up annoyance when she wanted to be. Should she push her luck? Lakshmi was acting so nice today, maybe she should just focus on lunch.
Petting zoo, though.
"I was just thinking about something Brendan told me. I don't know if they meant to let slip - you know what they're like."
Lakshmi nodded, ever understanding.
"Shmi… do you guys have a petting zoo?"
Lakshmi removed her hand from Avery's to pinch the bridge of her nose.
"God fucking dammit, Brendan."
"Is it bad I know that? Do you need to do the dopey drugs on me?" She really didn't want to have her memory wiped. She was pretty sure it had happened before, maybe multiple times. Days where she'd woken up particularly groggy, when Lakshmi had been just a little too nice.
"No, no, just… Well, now I'm not going to get any rest until I show you, am I?"
Avery grinned sheepishly.
"It's within the restricted area, staff only. I would need to pull in some favours with Jept to get you Level 0 clearance. Get good with one of the security officers. Fill out a metric tonne of paperwork. Even then, Glover would give me all sorts of shit for being stupid and bringing a civilian in…"
Avery had gone too far. Should have been more sensible. "Listen, Shmi, you don't have to do any of that. You just-"
"You misunderstand," Lakshmi looked up, rolling her eyes, "Now I have to figure out something else for your birthday."
"So, ok, it's just immortal? It's an immortal lizard?"
"Just hard to kill, probably. Nothing's really immortal immortal, that we know of."
Avery giggled as the little lizard, Appy, skittered along her sleeve, its claws catching in the fabric.
"He's an eastern fence lizard," Lakshmi continued. "See those blue spots on his neck and belly? Those mean he's a boy."
"He's so cuuuute aaahhhhh." The lizard was so //helpless/, with its teeny prosthetic leg making it trip and stumble on its valiant march along her forearm.
"He is, yes." Lakshmi wiggled a dead grub by Avery's ear and Appy scampered up excitely, snapping it out of her grip. "Here, lets move onto the next pen." Lakshmi gently scooped Appy up from his triumphant perch on Avery's shoulder. He squirmed a little before settling down in her palm, grub happily clutched in his mouth. "You're going to be excited about the next one."
Avery gasped. "Is it the pig? Please tell me it's the pig."
Lakshmi grinned as she placed Appy carefully back into its cage. He skittered off into a corner, hiding himself badly under a branch, without a single look back at the two women.
"Yeah, it's the pig."
Avery clapped excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet. God, this was the best.
"Come on, let's go meet her." Lakshmi slipped her hand into Avery's as they walked along the corridor, past soft-spoken donkeys, [SCP-2584|loopsnakes] and Ozark Howlers. This place was a wonderland, something new and fascinating around every corner. As she looked at Lakshmi's soft, smiling face, though, Avery realised what she was really loving was seeing her girlfriend in her element, confident and knowledgeable. It was one thing talking to her about these animals at home, but seeing her apply that knowledge practically, seeing how she lit up when she was handling all the creepy crawlies, made Avery's heart sing. She gripped Lakshmi's hand a little tighter as they approached the pen. Lakshmi bipped her keycard against the reader, then unlatched the wooden gate.
At first, Avery couldn't even see her. A small rustle among the straw that lined the floor of the pen caught her eye and she watched as the tiniest piglet she'd ever seen popped out of the pile and barreled toward her, emanating high-pitched snorts. It bumped into her leg at full speed, bouncing off and rolling on the ground back to its trotters, hopping around by Lakshmi's feet. It snuffled at her pants leg, chewing on the hem. Lakshmi bent down and scratched at the scruff of its neck.
"Avery, meet Oinkers. Oinkers, Avery"
"Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god."
"Why don't you two hang out a little? I need to check the heat regulation and food dispensation systems are up to shape." Lakshmi kneeled by Oinkers, who had rolled over for belly scratches. "Hey, Oinkers. Be nice to Avery, ok? I love her, and you'll love her too." She leaned in and stage-whispered into Oinkers' ear. "Plus if you behave, I'll get you some mashed potatoes tomorrow." She stood and gave Avery a peck on the cheek before slipping out.
Avery waved at Oinkers sheepishly. "Hey, little dude."
It always came back to the goddamn cardboard fairies.
Plans
- Try to make something with this:
- Tanahu says to make a Eurovision/Foundation tale.
- Talk more to ChaoSera about the plughole thing
- The format screw
- Conversational flow chart for agent stuck in stable time loop. Use Twine? scp-694?
- PAPER FAIRIES. PHOTOMANIPULATED CRYPTIDS. GET ON IT.
- Anything involving a Vietnamese mossy frog
- Port Nettle to skipverse
- Longest Lecture (Now SCP-948)
- Microtransactions (incorporated into Roget's thing)
- Dancing spiders :o
- Ghost AI??
- Orchestra town (https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/68/Jewish_musicians_of_Rohatyn_(west_Ukraine).jpg)
This page is for my writing that is not ready to be read, so be wary of cringey ideas, crude blocks of crap, and random spoiler snippets.
Right now, I've got two articles to my name: SCP-2559 is about a memetic virus, except it's not actually about the virus. SCP-2338 is about some very scary lil kids in Hallowe'en costumes… except it's not. Time will tell whether this is a pattern.
UPDATE: My third article, SCP-2779, is about a cute pig who can talk to computers except it's not actually about the pigFUCK I'VE DONE IT AGAIN.
uhhh also 948 and 3500.
and This Year.
For SCP-2559:
Not sure how I feel about the article itself yet
- Communism will win
I'll be honest, I don't quite follow.
- Agent MacLeod
so you just want random confusing things?
- TwistedGears
Do you think it'll be more clear in the final version?
- TheShrike
Ok but for real, 2559:
I don't know what to add to this, so I'll just summarize how much I enjoyed it instead. I have to be at work shortly. I'm probably going to be late because I kept reading this, and now I'm leaving this here note instead of getting ready. I loved it
- taintedvisage
I may be the only person here who appreciates your use of Morse prosigns and your accurate impression of a really sloppy fist
- atomicthumbs
It's good
- ophite
For SCP-2338:
Oh. Oh god.
- SpectralDragon
This is … oh no.
- Genshed
wow.
atomicthumbs
The interview with Ms. Soto might be the best-written transcript I've read on this site in a very long time. I was nearly in tears myself by the end, no joke.
canaryfarmer
You had me going for a second with the second tab, but holy hell, did it pay off.
- Shaggydredlocks
It brought my guard down- and then proceeded to veer into the best series of narrative whiplash curves I've read in months, ending on a strangely poignant and beautiful note.
- Scorpion451
…Okay, what in the fuck. Somehow, all this weirdness culminates in a punchline worth an upvote.
- TL333s
The Sato dialogue is, IMO, some of the best on the site … a very good SCP where the content is not squarely to my preference, but the execution is superb.
- ophite
Big reading investment up front, very satisfying payoff. I was waiting for a huge twist but got something much more rewarding.
- qntm
Rimple your article is fucking brilliant in every way
- LordStonefish
For 2779:
that is the good shit right there … the stuff I like delivered directly to my face
- SpectralDragon
oinkers is pure and good
- AbsentmindedNihilist
As cute as it is weird. I appreciate how short but effective the description is.
- TL333s
You have enough articles to make an author page!
- pastarasta1
Rimple you devious man, Windows Vista
- DrBleep
Operation ÓverMeta
Damn you and your clever way of making sure you aren't deleted.
Dr0Shadow
This is ridiculously intricate and pulls off a remarkable amount of self-awareness even beyond that required of its basic premise.
TyGently
Tightropes the fuck between contrived asspull and a scheme so elaborately/meticulously planned that to call it a sham would be a grave injustice.
minmin
This is wonderfully creative
Reject does not match any existing user name
This is the only good author page on the site.
Decibelles
Overmeta finally made sense to me… i finally parsed it after a night of drinking and accidently falling off the porch
ElementalSarsora
SCP-948
I'm not crying, I just have something in my eye.
TyGently
I wasn't expecting to cry today, goddammit!
+;~;
Norixson does not match any existing user name
Jesus, Rimple. Jesus. Some things don't ring true in terms of natural dialogue, but it's beautiful.
kinchtheknifeblade
Nnnup. Jus not feelin it.
JackIke does not match any existing user name
I love this because it's so amazingly human
Tenthyr
Unusual character hoard:
████████████████
ä ë ï ö ü ÿ Ä Ë Ï Ö Ü Ÿ
á Á ó Ó ú Ú í Í é É
™‽ ꙮ
α | Alpha | Νν | Nu |
Ββ | Beta | Ξξ | Xi |
Γγ | Gamma | Οο | Omicron |
Δδ | Delta | Ππ | Pi |
Εε | Epsilon | Ρρ | Rho |
Ζζ | Zeta | Σσς | Sigma |
Ηη | Eta | Ττ | Tau |
Θθ | Theta | Υυ | Upsilon |
Ιι | Iota | Φφ | Phi |
Κκ | Kappa | Χχ | Chi |
Λλ | Lambda | Ψψ | Psi |
Μμ | Mu | Ωω | Omega |
Useful things:
http://www.scp-wiki.net/component:theme
[[/gallery]]
***
SCP-2338-B: You don't believe me, do you? That's okay. Eomi said that you wouldn't right now, but you will.
Ms. Sato: Eomi seems to know a lot of things.
SCP-2338-B: She does, Ms. Sato. She really does. Hey, would you turn the TV on for me when you leave today?
Ms. Sato: Of course, Sun-hee. What channel would you like? We still haven't figured out that remote for you, sorry. Obviously it's fairly low priority, with… Sun-hee, are you ok?
SCP-2338-B: I feel weird, Ms. Sato. Eomi, she's showing me things, from the future. Those people need to know something.
Ms. Sato: Which people?
SCP-2338-B: The ones up there, watching. There's.. they're wrong, they need to know…
Ms. Sato: Sun-hee? What are… Oh!
***
There had been a shift in the room. In reality. Imperceptible to anyone who hadn't lived a hundred stories, who couldn't feel the structure in their bones. There was more to this story, still more. Gordon clamped a hand over his eye, fighting the migraine spike that had just run an icicle through his brain. Something new was pushing through.
***
02:17:07 <%minmin> I was under the impression that there was a direction to it
02:17:14 <%minmin> lampshading that there isn't is not going to help your case
02:17:51 <Rimple> Where do I lampshade lack of direction?
02:18:00 — Rimple did not intend to
02:19:37 <%minmin> the ending?
02:19:48 <%minmin> I read ahead
02:19:52 <Rimple> Oh, ok
02:20:01 <%minmin> as it stands I was expecting the infection to be something more insidious
02:20:08 <%minmin> but no
02:20:21 <%minmin> it's the central concern of one branch and that's it
02:20:54 <Rimple> Yeah - it only affects the iteration of Barker that caught it
02:22:04 <%minmin> meh
02:22:43 <%minmin> it's slightly better than the Let Me Sit You Down and Explain a Thing intro orientation tales
02:22:48 <%minmin> as far as intros go
02:22:58 <%minmin> but it's not a good intro
02:23:09 <%minmin> because it doesn't carry itself beyond being an intro
***
"What the fuck??"
At first, Gordon thought it was Samantha, but the shout had come from one of the scientists who had been making out in the other corner. They were looking down at the tank, wide-eyed. The tank's glass was gone. The water remained immobile, in shape, but without any surrounding structure. The jellyfish was floating toward them, the girl inside signing frantically. This wasn't right, this wasn't…
"It's not real, Gordon." Samantha was gazing upward with an odd expression on her face, curious and calm. "You feel it, right? This isn't part of the story."
"I feel it, yeah. It is, though. Just barely under the radar, there but… not there?" The story was supposed to end with them happy, watching the kid. That's what was real, not this, and the dissonance was tearing his brain. There was something pushing its way in, some other story, other presence. Alive and not alive, here and not here…
***
02:31:49 <%minmin> this is honestly a lot less ambitious than I thought it was
02:32:17 <Rimple> This tale is, yes. The series as a whole will hopefully live up to some of what you were thinking
02:33:02 <%minmin> mmmmph
02:33:45 <%minmin> one thing that soulless told me before when I was writing one of my tales was that even if it's an intro it has to have a direction beyond "these guys exist"
***
The jellyfish was looming over them now, partially phased through the walls of the observation room, its tentacles reaching up around them through the floor. The girl was still signing, alternating rapidly between a splayed right hand and something more complex, her left arm crossed over her chest and her right hand raised, pointing a thumb at herself.
"What… what the fuck is she saying?" Gordon was on the floor now, cradling his head. Why wasn't this affecting her like it did him? What was going on?
"She's saying, um, five. Five, danger." Samantha turned to Gordon. She was crying, though she probably didn't even notice. "You're not going to remember this, are you Gordon? If it's not even part of the story?"
Gordon was reeling, his brain a fuzz. "M- maybe. I don't know. I don't know. I don
***
11:01:22 <Rimple> minmin: I've been thinking about you said, and I really like the idea of 2559 attaching itself to Barker conceptually?
11:03:00 <Rimple> I don't have time to rework the whole thing, but I'm going to see what I can do with the ending, and how it will affect the storyline I'm biulding overall
11:03:00 <Rimple> *building
11:16:00 <%minmin> rimple improving your writing is always good
11:16:05 <%minmin> now I feel bad I strongarmed your plot direction
11:17:34 <Rimple> It's cool - you were right that the ending needed to be sharper, and it's helped refine the ideas I've been floating for them
11:18:20 <Rimple> For instance, it gives them a more understandable, emotional motivation to go through with the next stages of Operation Overmeta
11:21:51 <Rimple> It also means I can give the author page something of a cliffhanger ending, keep people interested, as opposed to having it as a self-contained series of adventures
11:23:49 <%minmin> that's what I thought you were attempting
11:23:54 <%minmin> a proper series
11:24:06 <Rimple> I only have a day and a half, but I'm going to see what I can do to alter the 2338 segment toward this goal too - Eomi seeing time backwards makes them a great harbinger
***
t know"
Samantha was reaching forward, elbow deep now in the jellyfish's bell. She looked blissful, almost, ready for whatever was coming.
"She's showing me things, Gordon. A shadow hanging over us, pushing back against everything we do, hammering us down, forcing us along these tracks. We can't escape it."
"How do we fucking stop it?" Gordon couldn't see. He couldn't see. He couldn't see. He couldn't fucking-
"We can't stop it, Gordon. Nothing we do can change it." Samantha's voice was steely, determined. "But we're going to fucking try."
***
02:29:27 <Rimple> for the record, min
02:29:30 <Rimple> There is sort of a looming insurmountable threat, but it's me
02:29:35 <Rimple> Y'know, the author puppeteer or w/e
02:29:39 <%minmin> I'm not getting that
02:29:45 <Rimple> I'll find some way to make it clearer, I guess
02:29:49 <Rimple> thanks for the feedback
Fucking around w/ javascript:
%minmin> I was under the impression that there was a direction to it
02:17:14 <%minmin> lampshading that there isn't is not going to help your case
02:17:51 <Rimple> Where do I lampshade lack of direction?
02:18:00 — Rimple did not intend to
02:19:37 <%minmin> the ending?
02:19:48 <%minmin> I read ahead
02:19:52 <Rimple> Oh, ok
02:20:01 <%minmin> as it stands I was expecting the infection to be something more insidious
02:20:08 <%minmin> but no
02:20:21 <%minmin> it's the central concern of one branch and that's it
02:20:54 <Rimple> Yeah - it only affects the iteration of Barker that caught it
02:22:04 <%minmin> meh
02:22:43 <%minmin> it's slightly better than the Let Me Sit You Down and Explain a Thing intro orientation tales
02:22:46 <Rimple> The ending will change as I add new bits, but not massively unless I make articles that'll fuck with stuff in a notable way
02:22:48 <%minmin> as far as intros go
02:22:58 <%minmin> but it's not a good intro
02:23:09 <%minmin> because it doesn't carry itself beyond being an intro
02:31:49 <%minmin> then this is honestly a lot less ambitious than I thought it was
02:32:01 <ChaoSera> I don't think something will happen vezaz but it would be cool
02:32:17 <Rimple> This tale is, yes. The series as a whole will hopefully live up to some of what you were thinking
02:33:02 <%minmin> mmmmph
02:33:12 <Rimple> minmin: I considered ambitious. I wrote ambitious drafts - stuff Gordon is aware of, not the others. Ambitious was /less fun/
02:33:45 <%minmin> one thing that soulless told me before when I was writing one of my tales was that even if it's an intro it has to have a direction beyond "these guys exist"
Name: Reginal Impel
Known Aliases: Rimple, Twonk, Zolnerowich
Security Clearance: 3? (maybe I should say 4)
Bio: Dr. Impel is head of the IT department. He was a known hacker under the alias Twonk, until (some date? Date I joined the site?) who now works for the foundation following hacking them in some way.
- Likes video games?
- Irish
- Scared of knives
- Scared
(make sure to credit lurkd for the codeif you put this up)
For SCP-2559:
Not sure how I feel about the article itself yet
- Communism will win
I'll be honest, I don't quite follow.
- Agent MacLeod
so you just want random confusing things?
- TwistedGears
Do you think it'll be more clear in the final version?
- TheShrike
Ok but for real, 2559:
I don't know what to add to this, so I'll just summarize how much I enjoyed it instead. I have to be at work shortly. I'm probably going to be late because I kept reading this, and now I'm leaving this here note instead of getting ready. I loved it
- taintedvisage
I may be the only person here who appreciates your use of Morse prosigns and your accurate impression of a really sloppy fist
- atomicthumbs
It's good
- ophite
For SCP-2338:
Oh. Oh god.
- SpectralDragon
This is … oh no.
- Genshed
wow.
atomicthumbs
The interview with Ms. Soto might be the best-written transcript I've read on this site in a very long time. I was nearly in tears myself by the end, no joke.
canaryfarmer
You had me going for a second with the second tab, but holy hell, did it pay off.
- Shaggydredlocks
It brought my guard down- and then proceeded to veer into the best series of narrative whiplash curves I've read in months, ending on a strangely poignant and beautiful note.
- Scorpion451
…Okay, what in the fuck. Somehow, all this weirdness culminates in a punchline worth an upvote.
- TL333s
The Sato dialogue is, IMO, some of the best on the site … a very good SCP where the content is not squarely to my preference, but the execution is superb.
- ophite
Big reading investment up front, very satisfying payoff. I was waiting for a huge twist but got something much more rewarding.
- qntm
Rimple your article is fucking brilliant in every way
- LordStonefish
For 2779:
that is the good shit right there … the stuff I like delivered directly to my face
- SpectralDragon
oinkers is pure and good
- AbsentmindedNihilist
As cute as it is weird. I appreciate how short but effective the description is.
- TL333s
You have enough articles to make an author page!
- pastarasta1
Rimple you devious man, Windows Vista
- DrBleep
Item #: GONEGIRL
Object Class: Keter (Uncontained)
Special Containment Procedures: All documentation concerning Dr. Daisy Glover regarding events occurring two or more days ago are to be logged within the base timeline database as Prime Truth unless otherwise specified. Documentation regarding SCP-GONEGIRL is to be compiled into a single report every thirty minutes, with discrepancies flagged for review.
Anyone reading this report is to review all data and previous tests and spend no less than two hours considering possible tests of their own. Tests are to be logged within this file and, for robustness, manually copied down onto the purple file marked "GONEGIRL TESTS", which should be located to your right, on top of the big filing cabinet.