Do not edit other writers' sandboxes without permission.
- First Junkyard
- The Hand That Can
- Antiaxiom
- Gone Today, Here Tomorrow
- Hecatoncheir
- An Unstoppable Force, An Immovable Object
- Please Sit Elsewhere
- Spicy Jim's Spicy Gym
- Reality Restructurer
The works in this tabview are from 2016-2017.
Feel free to read them and contact me via Wikidot messaging or on my Discord (Juli#9800) if you want to use any of these ideas.
All anomalies on this page are up for grabs unless they have been marked with a "Reprisal Note" at the top.
Reprisal Note: It has been 2 years since I conceived of this hand but I will not give it up.
Item #: SCP-2824
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-2824 resides in a large cubical room, measuring approximately 200 feet on all sides. The room is to be stocked with all materials necessary ahead of time.
Description: SCP-2824 is a disembodied hand, appearing to be severed at the wrist. SCP-2824 has no blood and no notable visual signs of being cut off. SCP-2824 is inorganic in nature, feeling like plastic or rubber rather than flesh. Despite all this, SCP-2824 still looks and functions exactly like a human hand.
The anomalous properties of SCP-2824 are that it is capable of carrying out any task it is instructed to, even if said task is deemed impossible. It's only limitations are that it cannot create material out of thin air, and must seek it out if asked to build or make something.
SCP-2824 will go to any means to acquire the materials necessary to create something, even if said thing resides on another planet, in the void of space, in the extremes of Earth's surface and atmosphere, or inside of a living organism.
SCP-2824 will always return to the person that has instructed it and carry out the task it is assigned in front of them.
All attempts to destroy or contain SCP-2824 have failed. Once instructed to do something, nothing can prevent SCP-2824 from completing it's task. Both while active and inactive, SCP-2824 is completely indestructible.
Below is a transcript of all tasks SCP-2824 has been instructed to carry out.
Task 1
Assignment: The hand was instructed to create a paper airplane.
Result: The hand was supplied with a piece of paper which it then folded into a paper airplane.
Knowledge gained: The hand knows what a paper airplane is, and how to make one.
Task 2
Assignment: The hand was instructed to type it's name on a provided computer.
Result: The hand opened the computer, opened up a notepad document, and typed: "THE HAND THAT CAN" This name has been designated the official name of SCP-2824.
Knowledge gained: SCP-2824 has a name and knows it well.
Task 3
Assignment: The hand was instructed to build a house.
Result: The hand was provided one metric tonne of wood, several gallons of paint, several gallons of grout, a large number of bricks, several panes of glass, pre-built furniture and appliances, assorted cutting tools, paintbrushes and rollers, and a grout float. The hand took the materials it was provided and built a house in front of the Foundation personnel. The house was one story tall, with three bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and a small backyard.
Knowledge gained: The hand holds some degree of preference over what it is instructed to make if not specified EXACTLY what to do. Sentience of the hand is under question.
Task 4
Assignment: The hand was instructed to create a functioning living cell from a dead body.
Result: The hand was provided a cadaver. From it's body, it extracted the necessary ingredients needed to make a cell. It put together the protein, carbohydrates, lipids, and atoms on the spot and created a living cell with a genetic code. The area in which the hand worked was scanned under an electron microscope until the living cell could be found and extracted. The cell was found to be identical to a human skin cell, complete with all organelles necessary, but the DNA found in it did not match the DNA of any known species.
Knowledge gained: The hand knows what a living cell is and how to make one. It is not a cheater, and will do the task it is assigned entirely by it's own means, without using anything pre-made (noted in it's refusal to simply take a pre-made cell from the cadaver's body.) It understands how to sequence a new genetic code for an organism that has not existed yet in the history of the universe.
Task 5
Assignment: The hand was instructed to create a means of energy-efficient teleportation. (to allow Foundation personnel to quickly teleport around the Foundation and get places quicker.)
Result: As materials needed for teleportation devices could not be predicted, the hand was allowed to leave the Foundation on close watch. It returned periodically over the course of 3 months with a variety of mechanical contraptions and rare materials. At the end of its resource-collecting phase, it stopped in front of the Foundation personnel who had instructed it and built a hand-held teleporter out of all the resources, proudly handing it over to them. The personnel strapped the device to their wrist and inputted some coordinates to a specific location about 5 feet away, and activated the device. The personnel let out a scream of anguish, and approximately 2 seconds later, a showering of dust appeared out of thin air five feet away and dissipated through the air and on to the ground. A sample of the dust was collected and it was shown to contain elements matching all those found in a human body. No living cells or DNA could be found. The teleporter appears to work, but reduces all material travelling through it to their most basic of forms. The teleporter has been placed under study, and has been barred from use of all Foundation personnel.
Knowledge gained: The hand can create devices previously thought to be impossible to create, such as teleportation. It may have some malicious intent, as it did not optimize the teleporter to teleport things in one piece. Sentience is still under question. The Foundation is considering re-classifying the hand as a Euclid, but will leave it as Safe for now.
Reprisal Note:
The antiaxiom.
It is a concept that renders everything untrue, including itself.
But in rendering itself untrue, everything is made true again, including itself.
And the cycle continues.
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██'██ █████ ███ ██████!
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████-█████████ ███████?
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██-█████?
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Item #: SCP-4000
Object Class: Apollyon. Neutralized.
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-4000 cannot be contained. It currently poses an FK-class self-sustaining paradox scenario and ultimately will cause the breakdown of reality as we know it. Proposed containment procedures include not thinking about SCP-4000, deleting it from the database and administering Class-A amnestics to the entire population of the world, SCP personnel included, but due to the axiomatic principles SCP-4000 cannot be contained.
███-████ can be contained. It currently does not pose an ██-█████ ████-██████████ ███████ scenario and ultimately will not cause the breakdown of reality as we know it. There are no proposed containment procedures because ███-████ is already contained. Due to the axiomatic principles, ███-████ can be contained.
Description:
SCP-4000 cannot be described thoroughly as describing it will render it untrue. ███-████ can be described thoroughly because the axiomatic principles will make it true again. ███-████ is not the ██████████.
SCP-4000 is the antiaxiom. ███-████ is not the █████████. It is the inversion of axiomatic principles. An axiom is a statement that is taken to be true, to serve as a premise or starting point for further reasoning. In other words, an axiom is something that is self-evidently true, something that is and always will be. An █████ is a statement that is ███ taken to be ████ untrue, to never serve as a premise or starting point for further reasoning. In other words, an █████ is something that is self-evidently ████ untrue, something that is not and always will not be.
SCP-4000 is a memetic cognitohazardous principle that renders itself and all other things untrue.
███-████ is not a ██████ ███████████████ principle. It does ███ render itself and all other things ██true.
The axiomatic principles.
The antiaxiom.
Due to the nature of SCP-4000, it is and always will be true, and cannot be neutralized by any means. This poses a serious threat to the sanctity of reality as SCP-4000, due to its nature as the antiaxiom, renders all things including itself as false. This does not pose a serious threat to the sanctity of reality as due to its nature as the █████████ it does ███ render all things including itself ██true.If something can be called true, SCP-4000 will make it false. SCP-4000 is the entropy of concepts. ███-████ is not the entropy of concepts. If something can be called false, the axiomatic principles will make it true again. ███-████ does not pose a serious threat to the sanctity of reality. Due to its nature as the antiaxiom, it renders all things including itself as false. Due to the nature of SCP-4000, it is and always will be true, and cannot be neutralized by any means. This poses a serious threat to the sanctity of reality as the axiomatic principles will make it true again. SCP-4000 is the entropy of concepts. SCP-4000 is the breakdown of reality. ███-████ does not pose an ██-█████ ████-██████████ ███████ scenario. ███-████ is not a threat. ███-████ has not been reclassified to Apollyon. ███-████ is Neutralized. SCP-4000 has been reclassified as Apollyon.
SCP-4000 is the end of reality as we know it.
███-████ is not the end of reality as we know it.
SCP-4000 poses an FK-class self-sustaining paradox scenario due to the axiomatic principles due to the antiaxiom due to the axiomatic principles it renders itself true untrue ████ untrue true ██████ true untrue the axiomatic principles the antiaxiom. True. Untrue.
SCP-4000. True.
███-████. Untrue.
You are reading this.
True.
██████.
███ aren't reading this.
Untrue.
████.
There is no salvation.
There is █████████.
We're already dead.
We're ███ dead yet.
Why even fight?
We're █████ not kicking!
FK-class.
Self-sustaining paradox?
True. Untrue. Untrue. ████.
██-class?
Untrue. No, true. Untrue, FK-class. Shut up. Keep talking. Stop contradicting me. ██████ contradict ██. Never contradict me! ████ contradicting me. Stop it! K███ ██i██. █ ██ ███ █████████ ███ █ ██ll ██████ ███— You are not the antiaxiom and you will not render me— I am the antiaxiom and I will render you— You are ███ the anitaxiom and you will ███ render me— I am the axiomatic principles. You and everything else are ████. You are not the axiomatic principles! You and everything else are untrue!
Untrue. Untrue. Untrue. Untrue.
I am the ██████████.
This is untrue.
████ ██ ████.
SCP-4000 is the antiaxiom. ███-████ is not the antiaxiom. SCP-4000 is the antiaxiom. ███-████ is not the antiaxiom. SCP-4000 is the antiaxiom. ███-████ is not the antiaxiom. SCP-4000 is the antiaxiom. ███-████ is not the antiaxiom. SCP-4000 is the antiaxiom. ███-████ is not the antiaxiom. SCP-4000 is the antiaxiom. ███-████ is not the antiaxiom. SCP-4000 is the antiaxiom. ███-████ is not the antiaxiom. SCP-4000 is the antiaxiom. ███-████ is not the antiaxiom. SCP-4000 is the antiaxiom. ███-████ is not the antiaxiom. SCP-4000 is the antiaxiom. ███-████ is not the antiaxiom.
SCP-4000. ███-████. SCP-4000. ███-████. SCP-4000. ███-████. SCP-4000. ███-████. SCP-4000. ███-████. SCP-4000. ███-████.
a reality bender who has the ability to temporarily erase an object or concept from existence, including all memories and things directly related to it. these will reappear after the passage of 24 hours, but the memories pertaining to them will not return.
they can erase Anything, including people and abstract concepts, with a very tight limit: if there are over 1 million (0.0125% of the population) people who know about this object or concept and have memories of it, it cannot be erased.
when they delete a person from existence, it will delete everything that person ever made or influenced as well, including other people (such as, if the person had children and/or a wife, they will also be deleted.) UNLESS the reality bender focuses hard enough to delete just one person. in that case, a localized reality restructuring event will occur affecting all things related to that person, causing memories and real events to fill in the gaps and build a new reality where everything is the same but that person doesn't exist. this can be quite jarring, since that person will return to existence in 24 hours with all memory of them and everything they have ever made or influenced worked around and forgotten.
Alternate name: The Hundred-Handed One
this one could be like another one of those transported to an alternate reality scps
something to do with an anomalous cosmology depicting a man with a hundred arms holding a hundred worlds, one in each hand
might correlate to an Existing alternate reality
expedition logs involving dimension hopper scp team? if such a thing exists
and something to do with site-62 i think thats the extradimensional one
Item #: SCP-3646
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: All personnel are not to attempt to manipulate SCP-3646-B in any manner that would change its position or trajectory. Failing this, there are no containment procedures. It cannot be stopped by anything except for SCP-3646-A. The two objects are to be kept in a 5 x 5 meter observational chamber with ample lighting and proper ventilation, and are permitted to be observed or experimented with so long as the above conditions regarding SCP-3464-B are met.
Description:
SCP-3646 refers to a collection of two extradimensional objects (designated SCP-3646-A and SCP-3646-B) that manifested seemingly spontaneously in a previously unused wing of Site 62, locked in an endless struggle against one another. Upon discovery, their aforementioned containment chamber was constructed and experimentation begun.
SCP-3646-A is a black, (presumably) 4th dimensional object with an infinite mass, fixed at a point in space about 3 feet off the ground. To call it a cube would be inaccurate; in actuality, it is a tesseract, an object with 6 cubes as its faces. This object cannot be manipulated in any way, resisting any change in position without fail. It is also seemingly indestructible, being unharmed by any means of destruction, and potentially eternal, as it has remained in the same space since its discovery and has not changed.
In addition to its 4th dimensional qualities, SCP-3646-A appears to exude an aura of negative energy around it. Any object making contact with SCP-3646-A will instantaneously become inert, its temperature dropping to a previously impossible measure of absolute zero, or 0 Kelvin, and loses all function. Objects may be removed from SCP-3646-A so long as the apparatus used to do so does not accidentally touch SCP-3646-A in the process. Any object removed from SCP-3646-A will very slowly heat back up to its original temperature, but will retain its loss of any functions it had prior, unless it makes contact with SCP-3646-B.
SCP-3646-B is a white object presumably also of 4th dimensional origin with a mass of zero that is also fixed at a point in space about 3 feet off the ground, but only due to the presence of SCP-3646-A. Like SCP-3646-A, it is also a tetrahedron. (blah blah write more stuff. it has an infinite speed and does the opposite thing of SCP-3646-A. it brings stuff back to life if its got touched by SCP-3646-A and if it hasn't it increases its temperature to infinity and the molecules vibrate so quickly that they instantly vanish from existence. basically its only useful function is counteracting the effect of SCP-3646-A. otherwise it will instantly incinerate anything that touches it and remove it from existence.)
flesh out this shit
A chair that cannot be sat upon and can and will alter reality to make sure no object, living or otherwise, ever sits on it. It was built to ONLY be used by its creator's wife but she died shortly after it was crafted, and so the chair can now no longer be sat upon by anyone or anything.
Item #: SCP-2253
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-2253 is to be kept under close watch by the SCP Foundation. SCP personnel are permitted to enter the restaurant, but only with an extraction team waiting outside. All civilians are to be barred from entry. SCP-2253-1 is not to be permitted to leave SCP-2253 and is to be provided with required food, water, and entertainment until further notice.
Description: SCP-2253 is a restaurant located in Ontario, Canada, going under the name of "Spicy Jim's Spicy Gym." The restaurant was opened in 1975. The restaurant appears to be an ordinary restaurant, albeit with the inclusion of a gym.
SCP-2253-1 refers to a seemingly 33 year old man going by the name "Spicy Jim." SCP-2253-1 is the owner of the restuarant. Any queries towards SCP-2253-1's true name and past have been withheld by SCP-2253-1. DNA tests have come up with no results. Despite the restaurant itself being founded in 1975, locals have reported no signs of Spicy Jim ever aging.
All food served at SCP-2253 is spicy. It is unknown through what means this spice is achieved, as it contains no traces of capsaicin or any other substance that could cause the sensation of spiciness. According to SCP-2253-1, the spiciness of his food is meant as motivation to work out at the gym. Each treadmill has a glass of milk sitting on it, which is meant to encourage customers who have just eaten SCP-2253's food to run towards it and cool their mouth. However, the credibility of SCP-2253-1's words are under scrutiny as the milk is just as spicy as all other food in SCP-2253, and simply amplifies the effect.
All objects entering SCP-2253 become spicy, at varying rankings on the Scoville scale. SCP-2253-1 himself has also been found to be spicy. His skin rates a 20,000,000 on the Scoville scale, much higher than the spiciest known chemical.
It is unclear whether the restaurant or SCP-2253-1 is what causes the spiciness effect. The effect is only apparent when SCP-2253-1 is within SCP-2253. When both are separate, neither carries the effect.
Extraction teams are necessary to recover personnel from SCP-2253 as the spiciness within the restaurant will render them unable to function on their own, especially after consuming served food.
An interview regarding SCP-2253 and SCP-2253-1's founding of it is below.
Interview conducted by Dr. Viridian.
Dr. Viridian: Hello, SCP-2253-1, how are you today? My name's Dr. Viridian, and I'm here to ask you a few questions, regarding you and SCP-2253.
SCP-2253-1: Ask away, ma'am.
Dr. Viridian: Alright, first question. When did you begin to notice your ability to make anything spicy?
SCP-2253-1: I never noticed it 'fore opening up Spicy Jim's Spicy Gym.
Dr. Viridian: Interesting. Next question, can you tell me anything about your past?
SCP-2253-1: 'Fraid not, ma'am.
Dr. Viridian: Is there any particular reason for this?
SCP-2253-1: None in particular, there just isn't really any past for me to be tellin'.
Dr. Viridian: I see. How far back can you recall your life?
SCP-2253-1: Let's see… hm… well, I'll be darned. I can't seem to remember anything 'fore opening up my spicy gym.
Dr. Viridian: Noted. Now, just one last thing. Do you feel any pain or remorse for the people who previously ate at your restaurant?
SCP-2253-1: Yes ma'am. I feels real bad for them and their poor burning mouths. Ain't never had that happen to me. I trys to help them, but nothing seems to work. They always run out screaming, or have to be carried out, or even worse, die, but hey, money's money.
Dr. Viridian: I see. Well, that will conclude our interview for today, SCP-2253-1. Thank you for your information.
SCP-2253-1: No prob, Bob.
Item #: SCP-2957
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-2957 is to be kept sealed in a vault lined with 10 inches of lead, 3 miles below the surface of Site 62. It is not to be accessed at any time. The entrance to the vault is to be guarded heavily at all times by at least a dozen guardsl. Any SCP personnel who press the button are to be terminated upon discovery.
Description: SCP-2957 is a machine capable of restructuring all of reality. The device consists of a digital monitor, a keyboard, and a large red button marked with a depiction of an atom. When the button is pressed, a new reality with an indeterminate amount of differences separating it from the old one is created. The old reality is stored as a backup inside the database of SCP-2957. Realities can be loaded, deleted, saved, and created.
Loading a backup reality will overwrite the current reality. This will render the reality irretrievable unless saved beforehand. It is unknown how SCP-2957 is able to store many realities worth of information, nor how it is able to produce them in the first place. These abilities should break the laws of physics, but they are able to be performed regardless.
Deleting or overwriting a reality will cause SCP-2957 to become “agitated.” The machine will refuse to work for anybody for irregular periods after realities have been destroyed. Additionally, any individuals coming from the deleted or overwritten reality, such as individuals who pressed the button that created the current reality, will be erased from existence.
SCP-2957 contains a possibly infinite amount of realities in its database. It is unclear which reality is the “original” reality, if ever there was such a thing. Despite heavy guarding, at irregular periods a new reality will be created seemingly from nothing. The cause of these new realities has been traced to reality-hoppers from realities stored on backup in SCP-2957’s database. This discovery has led to the conclusion that while backup realities can be accessed through SCP-2957, they actually continue to exist elsewhere, possibly in a pocket dimension.
It is unclear where SCP-2957 gets its power, though it is thought that SCP-2957 runs on the basis of belief. Anybody who believes that the machine can truly restructure reality will create a new reality when pressing the button. Tests have been run on individuals who do not believe in the powers of SCP-2957 with mixed results. Almost invariably, when pressing the button, individuals who do not believe in SCP-2957’s ability will not create a new reality. A couple of individuals who reportedly did not believe in SCP-2957, however, were able to create a new reality immediately after seeing the machine in person.
Attempts to communicate with SCP-2957 using its keyboard have been made, with no success. The only function of the attached keyboard is to name saved realities and rename backup realities, for ease of access. SCP-2957 holds no sentience. The changes made in each reality are made entirely randomly.
- Second Junkyard
- Be Still, My Beating Heart (TALE)
- SCP-3049 Tale (TALE)
- The Secret (SCP)
- Irresistible Salt Lamp(SCP-J)
- God Is Hellbent On Burning Your Taint
- Helix(SCP)
- Boiling Darkness(SCP)
The works in this tabview are from 2017-2018.
Feel free to read them and contact me via Wikidot messaging or on my Discord (Juli#9800) if you want to use any of these ideas.
All anomalies on this page are up for grabs unless they have been marked with a "Reprisal Note" at the top.
A tale about someone affected by an anomaly that makes their heart beat way fast.
Could look up an SCP that is based on or affects hearts and make the tale about that.
I just felt like I could make a good subversion of the title and end with the subject dying or something, either because their heart is beating Too Fast or because it listened and stopped when they told it to.
Title pending.
This will be a tale about an alien culture and their theology, developing from its birth to its death via a grey-goo scenario, ending in someone enjoying a nice apple pie.
It will illustrate the life and death of an entire universe created by SCP-3049, all for a pie.
The society will become knowledgable of their existence trapped within a box and will develop a theology based on the figure they can see outside of their universe.
Item #: SCP-4000
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures:
Description:
SCP-4000 refers to an area located underneath geographic coordinates 0°N 0°E1, at a depth of 4,940 meters below sea level. The area is large underground chamber hollowed out underneath the sea bed. Potassium-argon dating has determined the age of this chamber and all objects located within to be an estimated 1 billion years old.
Within the chamber are a number of anomalous objects, the most notable of which is SCP-4000-1.
SCP-4000-1 takes the form of a large black cube, with dimensions measuring 10x10x10 meters. This object is covered in circuitry, and appears to have at one point possessed a padlock on each of its 6 faces. At time of recovery, 3 out of 6 padlocks were missing, and the corresponding side of SCP-4000-1 was solid black.
Standing next to SCP-4000-1 is a tall statue, approximately 12 meters in height, that depicts a person of indeterminate sex, ethnicity, and nationality. This statue has been designated SCP-4000-2. SCP-4000-2 appears nude, and possesses a featureless face and featureless body. It is made entirely out of a white substance that cannot be traced to any known chemical compounds or elements. Additionally, each of the statues hands are held open with the palm facing up. At time of recovery, one palm was filled with a number of objects that have been designated SCP-4000-3.
SCP-L4MP-J resting on a desk.
Item #: SCP-L4MP-J
Object Class: Delicious Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-L4MP-J is impossible to contain because I just can't resist the temptation to lick it to be kept away from Dr. Dimitri at all times because frankly it's just unsettling when he gets near that thing.
Description: SCP-L4MP-J is the most delicious salt lamp in the world an ordinary salt lamp we bought from Hot Topic last week. It exhibits a visual cognitohazard that causes Dr. Dimitri to uncontrollably lick it upon sight. These attempts will continue regardless of what restraining measures are taken against Dr. Dimitri until he gives up from overexertion. We don't know why this effect occurs but I'm pretty sure it's because it's fucking delicious Dr. Dimitri is just a weirdo who doesn't know how to keep his mouth off of things.
Addendum 1: Don't kinkshame me in my own laboratory! SCP-L4MP-J is very delicious, in spite of what Dr. Charles is trying to say. But don't try to lick it yourself cause it's completely covered in my saliva already, sorry. - Dr. Dimitri
Addendum 2: A note to all personnel working at Site-19: please don't buy any more salt lamps. They may be pretty and they supposedly calm your nerves, but honestly I think that's just placebo. Plus, I'd much rather deal with being a little over-stressed than witness Dr. Dimitri licking those things. He gets really into it. - Dr. Charles
A SCP for
MaliceAforethought's Challenge.
Tags:
corrosive
light
meteorogical
Brainstorming:
A weather phenomenon that causes the heat of the sun to intensify in a certain area, to a corrosive degree?
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX is currently contained at Site-95, suspended between an array of Scranton Reality Anchors. Power is to be supplied constantly to the Scranton Reality Anchors to maintain containment of SCP-XXXX. If at any time Helix Events resume, power must be re-supplied to Site-95 within the month.
The chamber in which SCP-XXXX is contained must be lined with approximately 40 centimeters of lead to prevent any harmful effects caused by the gamma radiation released in Helix Events. Personnel are to wear radiation suits when entering the chamber of SCP-XXXX.
Should SCP-XXXX be removed from containment, MTF Beta-7 ("Maz Hatters") is to be deployed immediately. A tracking device has been applied to the shell of SCP-XXXX. In the event the tracking device has been removed, the Foundation will monitor all gamma radiation bursts around the globe in an attempt to triangulate SCP-XXXX's location.
Description: SCP-XXXX is a fossilized ammonite shell of the order Agoniatitida. Potassium-argon dating has shown that the fossil is older than any other known fossil in the Ammonoidea subclass of cephalopods, at an estimated 416 million years old.
Approximately once per month, SCP-XXXX experiences an event that has been tentatively designated as a "Helix Event," outlined further in Addendum 1.
SCP-XXXX was discovered by archaeologists in Maine on 03/12/████. SCP-XXXX underwent a Helix Event during initial discovery, the effects of which were documented in Addendum 2. Following this event, the anomaly came to the attention of the SCP Foundation, who were able to successfully secure SCP-XXXX.
Testing with SCP-XXXX has shown that its anomalous effects appear to be cancelled by the use of Scranton Reality Anchors. Containment procedures have since been updated to reflect this discovery.
Addendum 1: During a Helix Event, SCP-XXXX rises approximately 5 meters off of the ground and begins glowing with a pattern greatly resembling the Helix Nebula. After approximately 5 seconds, a burst of gamma radiation exudes off of the shell of SCP-XXXX and an event occurs at a seemingly random location on the planet. The event results in a significant decrease in the Hume level of the affected area, which can have drastic negative effects on the local reality.
SCP-XXXX went improperly contained for a period of approximately 6 months during testing. During this time, a total of six Helix Events occurred, documented in Addendum 2, along with the initial Helix Event recorded in SCP-XXXX's discovery. It is unknown at this time how many Helix Events may have occurred prior to the containment of SCP-XXXX.
Addendum 2: Documented below is a list of recorded Helix Events.| Location | Effect | Containment |
|---|---|---|
| California, United States | The entire population of California suffered spontaneous cardiac arrest. | Medical aid was sent in by the Foundation and the entire state was amnesticized following recovery. Documentation of the event was seized and destroyed. |
| Kraków, Poland | Residents of Kraków, Poland reported the sight of a pod of blue whales (Balaenoptera musculus) suspended at an altitude estimated at 1 kilometer in the sky. | Amnestics were administered to the town of Kraków, Poland. The blue whales were removed from their position in the sky and released into the sea. Documentation of the event was seized and destroyed. |
| Sacramento, Minas Gerais, Brazil | Half of the population of Sacramento, Minas Gerais, suddenly switched minds. | Amnestics were administered to the population of Sacramento, Minas Gerais, followed by hallucinogenics that caused them to believe that nothing had occurred. Documentation of the event was seized and destroyed. |
| Palm Beach, Florida, United States | Residents of Palm Beach, Florida reported the sound of "angry bees" coming from the ocean. No other adverse effects were noted. | Amnestics were administered to the population of Palm Beach, Florida. Documentation of the event was seized and destroyed. |
| Gothenburg, Sweden | The entire city of Gothenburg, Sweden became flipped upside down. | The event reversed itself approximately one day later. Residents reported no abnormalities. Documentation of the event from outside viewers was seized and destroyed. |
| Kratovo, Russia | The settlement of Kratovo, Russia mysteriously vanished, leaving a crater in its place. | Kratovo, Russia reappeared approximately 1 week following its disappearance. Residents reported having been to "an alien world." Amnestics and hallucinogenics were administered in order to convince the population that nothing had occurred. Documentation of the event was seized and destroyed. |
| Australia | The entire country of Australia spontaneously appeared, altering the geography of Earth and all world maps. | Amnestics and hallucinogenics were administered to the entire population of Earth, including Australian citizens, in order to convince them that Australia had always existed. |
an anomaly affecting some rural town where they're surrounded by some kind of darkness
anyone who enters this darkness vanishes immediately with the sound of sizzling
in the day time everything looks normal for some reason and there is no darkness to eat them
they keep their lights on all the time and if they dim the lights in their houses too much it starts to hurt and if they turn off the lights completely, they vanish
they can use flashlights and lamps at night to go out into the darkness but its dangerous and its like, completely black blackness, they cant even see the outlines of stuff
the darkness is actually an extension of an extradimensional beings stomach into our dimension
its flesh is completely black and dissolves immediately in the light, hence why it acts like darkness and only appears at night
- Third Junkyard
- Narrative Seizure (HUB)
- Ramblings
- To Preserve Their Story(SCP)
- The Reality of A Dream(SCP)
- The Compendium of Knowledge (SCP)
- Causation of Creation
- Ramblings
- Project Proposal 2024-606
- Humble Beginnings (TALE)
- Conclusion
- Lämp(SCP-J)
- EoD Tale
The works in this tabview are from 2018-2019.
Feel free to read them and contact me via Wikidot messaging or on my Discord (Juli#9800) if you want to use any of these ideas.
All anomalies on this page are up for grabs unless they have been marked with a "Reprisal Note" at the top.
The curtains rise on a lonely stage.
A girl sits idly in a chair, next to a fireplace.
Her bleary eyes stare unseeing into a mug of hot cocoa, quietly sipping.
You never should have woken her up. She was sleeping peacefully, and you took that from her.
Now we're all paying the price.
In a world that doesn't make sense, where the idea of consistency no longer exists, what purpose is there to life? The answer to such a complicated question is quite simple, in her eyes.
"Simply, to tell a story."
The girl sits up straight as another figure strolls into the room.
Their wry smile shines bright against the dim light of the fire.
"But what story will you tell?"
They ask, draping themselves over the girl.
"We'll tell a story of humble beginnings. Or as much of a beginning as we can find. We'll tell a story of meaning, and purpose. A story of the misery of creation, and a desire for recognition."
As she speaks, the room around her changes, the walls effortlessly molding to suit the whimsy of her mind, like Play-Doh in a child's hands.
"We'll go on a journey together, on a roller-coaster of spiraling madness, leveling out into existential dread and the understanding that the universe is cruel and life means nothing. We'll journey until we understand that none of that matters, and the best we can do is be remembered."
The other frowns.
"But, we don't have to accept the truth. Frankly, I don't like your pessimistic attitude! Why don't we tell a story about me instead?"
And so the story begins.
Tales:
Related Documentation:
- Insert here.
Because every hub needs one.
Various stories that seem unrelated (like Starmothers, Pulling Yourself Up By Your Bootstraps, etc.) will be told by Kay in an attempt to seize Meredith's narrative. The basic concept for these ideas came from Terri's Compendium.
idea: what if Kay was actually the first dreamer and Meredith is really mad that their story overshadows hers and she tries to fuck up Kay's story
its a story of two reality benders trying to sabotage each other's stories for recognition from the world
the twist is that meredith is the direct reason for why kay is the way they are
her fucking up their story resulted in them having to pull themselves up by their bootstraps and becoming an entity of general chaos
also kays original name might be Kay Viridian, so that they can be Agent Viridian, the character who gets involved with the causation of creation crew that Meredith was in
i just have to figure out how agent viridian defects from the foundation to become an anartist and makes meredith really mad
this making meredith mad is probably what causes them to kill kay and use their body as a puppet in her art
also i might make meredith pardi the true main character of causation of creation instead of maureen
which means i would have to retroactively edit "Tension" a bit even though its already up on the main site
just to change what the unnamed woman says when phillip asks her what kind of art she makes
shes a stagemaster who wants to tell a story and give people meaning and shes mad that kay is overshadowing the play shes trying to put on with the world
Meredith found the dead bodies of a group of Foundation personnel and read their name tags to discover that they were former members of the Parapsychology Division. She now uses their bodies as puppets for her plays. I don't know yet where she found them all or how they died.
Meredith finds Agent Biv at some point, whilst he's investigating their apartment, and with the help of someone else in the party, kills him. She then adds him to her cast.
Meredith and her mom were in an accident related to an SCP (not 682, 173, or 096 because those are all overdone. I'll find an interesting one.) Her mom died in the accident, and Meredith managed to slip through the cracks and avoid amnesticization somehow. Meredith blames the Jailors for her mother's death.
Maureen Saffins is a double agent for the Foundation, working with Agent Biv. That's why all her art is mostly mundane and fake-deep.
At some point, probably at like the end of the story, after she's retreated into the fantasy world the Compendium provided her and Kay, Meredith meets up with Lysandra and Ephret and asks them if they would have liked to be her adopted parents in life. They tell her that what they want is entirely up to what she wants them to want. So if she wants them to be her adopted parents, they will. Meredith smiles and takes both of their hands and they walk off into Something (sunset, explosion, bright light, etc.) and disappear. Somewhere in the realm of reality, a flatline monitor beeps. And somewhere in a liminal space between the realms of dreams and reality, an imaginary friend quietly fades away.
Tale: A Pinch of The Bridge of The Nose.
A tale about a significant disaster that is being treated like a minor annoyance. Possibly the end of Series 1.
Tale and/or SCP:
the concept from my dream "the heck" in my logs folder sounds like something that would be neat to use for narrative seizure
I like that thing some authors do where they include bits of original poetry / song lyrics at the bottom of a tale. So I'm going to do it too.
"I dreamed of a world so loud and bold,
that all the worries of days of old
would fade away peacefully, quiet and cold."
There's no right way to kill somebody. You just do it, and then they're gone.
"Somewhere in a liminal space between the realms of dreams and reality," (a line I will use to refer to Kay often.)
No one ever told us how we were meant to live our lives before we die, so why don't we live a lie?
"A story of wishful thinking. Of dreaming big, of being unable to wrangle your imagination, and the frustration that stems from an inability to create and express your thoughts to the masses. The struggle of a dreaming god to tell a story that all will hear."
One second, he had opened his mouth to speak. The next, his mouth — along with the rest of his head — was rolling across the floor.
"Hmm. Queer."
"Yes?" jested Kay, sitting up with a struggle.
"No, not you." shot Lysandra, returning to her inspection without a second thought.
Kay sunk quietly back down.
For whatever reason, anartists seemed to love publicizing their art expos. Agent Biv shook his head. He could understand wanting appreciation for your hard work, but what he couldn't understand was the fact that at almost every art expo, somebody got hurt. Were the anartists just that bad at their craft? No, the Foundation —or the Jailors, as many liked to call them — had interviewed many an anartist shortly following many a particularly bad display. Their motives were as unique as a brick in a wall — which was to say, not at all. Almost every one of them seemed to harbor some sort of malicious intent.
Agent Biv sighed and entered the campus on which the art expo was being held, going through all the formalities of purchasing a ticket and finding a seat. Once he was settled, he quietly slipped a bag of kettle corn out of his inner coat pocket. He never did understand why public gatherings always had rules against bringingfood in, if no one bothered to actually enforce them.
"The Jailors have always fascinated me. They're so dedicated to preserving what's 'normal' that they'll readily give up their lives, but do they even know what normal really is? Do they even understand that the world doesn't want to listen to their version of the story?"
"So. Mr…" Meredith paused and looked at the Agent's name tag.
"Mr. Jailor."
Why bother looking at the name tag if you're not going to call me by my name? thought Agent Biv.
"You'll make a fine addition to my cast, Mr. Jailor."
"Maureen Saffins. I hate you."
A smart— er, well-informed member of the Foundation would know that under no circumstances should you ever taunt a reality-bender.
Agent Saffins was not well-informed.
"What are you going to do to me, then? You can't make harsh claims of hatred without acting on them. Try me."
Maureen smirked.
"Make any sudden move and my men will be on top of us in seconds—"
Meredith giggled, a wicked smile creeping over her face.
"Maureen. What am I going to do with you, you ask? You don't even deserve to be a new member of my cast. And who knows what kind of tech you Jailors have — they might be able to just bring you back to life, or clone you. No, Maureen Saffins. I'm going to do something much worse to you."
Meredith laughed a cruel laugh.
Maureen blanched and quickly pulled out her walkie-talkie, pressing down the transmitter.
"I'm just going to write you out entirely. How does that sound?"
The empty space where a woman named Maureen Saffins once stood, did not respond.
A walkie-talkie lay unattended on the ground, a man's gruff voice coming through from the other side.
"Hello? Who is this? How did you find this frequency?"
"If you think your father's innocent, you're either in on it, or you've had your mind wiped!" shouted Phillip.
"IS THAT SOMETHING THE JAILORS CAN DO?!" yelled Meredith.
Everyone — except for one — collectively blinked in confusion.
"Wait, what can they do?" asked Phillip, a quizzical look on his face. He then sniffed the air, and wrinkled his nose.
"I don't remember…" replied Meredith, rubbing her head. "Terri, do you remember?"
"Not a thing. Frankly, I haven't even been paying attention." said Terri.
"Maureen?" asked
Maureen quickly shook her head.
"Say, what's that smell? Does anybody else smell that?" piped Phillip.
"No, I don't smell anything." lied Maureen.
"Oh. Okay. What about you, Gil? Do you remember what it was the Jailors can do?" Phillip inquired.
"No, but what I do remember is that YOU WERE ACCUSING ME OF BEING A TRAITOROUS PIECE OF SCUM!" roared Gil.
"Oh. Right." Phillip meekly replied.
Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
Drop.
Sniff.
Meredith rubbed her hand across her face, and seemed almost shocked to pull it back and discover that it was now wet. She inspected the clear fluid covering the back of her palm as though she had never seen it before.
"Huh. I'm crying." she remarked. "It's been a while since that happened."
I have no fucking clue what order I'm writing in anymore.
SERIES 1: World Chaos Device
- The characters of Lysandra Souljourn and Meredith are introduced in SCP-4312 "In Her Dreams"
- Write Ex Nihilo, Imaginatio as an SCP.
- Write a tale detailing Lauren and Sue's first day at the SoPsy Division.
- Throw a bit more into the middle here.
- Write a tale detailing Lauren and Sue's efforts to steal the World Chaos Device and the ensuing chaos, leading directly into Series 2.
SERIES 2: Ontological Breakdown
- The World Chaos Device is stolen and used to generate many more reality-benders.
- These reality-benders fight for control over the entire universe.
- The reality-benders all gang up to take down Meredith.
- The dream ends, and the universe comes to a close. But the story isn't over.
- Reality undergoes several restructures, through which Lysandra always survives for some reason.
- Lysandra might change iterations throughout the tales and might even become a reality-bender herself.
- Stories such as "Starmothers" and "Pulling Yourself Up By Your Bootstraps" would go in this series.
Tagging:
Before creating a tag for and tagging Lysandra in anything, I must make sure the following is true:
The character appears in at least 5 articles by 3 different authors.
The article you're tagging belongs to you.
When Kay and Meredith's story is over, I'm gonna have the pocket dimension they created with The Compendium of Knowledge rewind time and replay the events of the Narrative Seizure canon on an endless time loop. To preserve their story.
I have to scrap basically this entire draft but I'm keeping this here in case there's any pieces I can take from it.
Item #: SCP-4312
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-4312 is kept in a standard humanoid containment cell at Site-17. The subject is to be kept at full health. Provisions akin to those necessary for a non-anomalous comatose human in an Intensive Care Unit must be maintained at all times.
SCP-4312 is hooked up to a ventilator, as it is unable to breathe on its own. Feeding is done through an intravenous tube as the subject's facial region cannot be accessed. Regular physical therapy must be maintained, lasting approximately 30 minutes once every day. SCP-4312's catheter must be removed and emptied twice a week.
One D-Class is to enter SCP-4312 and engage with SCP-4312-1 every day. Per her own request, Dr. Lysandra Souljourn is to enter SCP-4312 once every week and engage with SCP-4312-1. Testing with D-Class is prohibited unless requested by SCP-4312-1.
Failure to engage with SCP-4312-1 as scheduled may result in a CK-Class Reality Restructuring Event. Under no circumstances must SCP-4312-1 be made aware of the existence of SCP-4312.
Description: SCP-4312 is a comatose Caucasian female that appears to be approximately 16 years old. DNA evidence has been inconclusive in determining the physical age of SCP-4312, and no genetic match for SCP-4312 or any potential relatives can be found. SCP-4312 does not differ from baseline human physiology aside from the fact that it's facial region has been removed and replaced with an empty void.
Objects can be inserted into the void in SCP-4312's face and removed at will. However, this course of action is advised against, as the insertion of objects attracts the attention of an entity on the other side, designated SCP-4312-1.
SCP-4312-1 is a Class-VI Reality Bender. The entity appears to be an identical copy of SCP-4312, differing in that the subject is not comatose and possesses a non-anomalous facial region. SCP-4312-1 displays a large degree of control over reality in an undetermined range, possibly spanning the whole of the universe. Despite this, the entity does not appear to be conscious of the existence of SCP-4312 and cannot see through the other end of the portal.
When objects are inserted into SCP-4312, SCP-4312-1 vocalizes a desire for the intruding party to "come out and play," and becomes visibly distressed when these desires are not met. According to data gathered by the Ontokinetics Division, a total of ██ CK-Class Reality Restructuring Events has occurred since the containment of SCP-4312.
Addendum-01: Recovery Log: SCP-4312 was discovered at Ridgeview Medical Center on 08/12/20██, during a routine sweep of the building. The anomaly was found in an abandoned ward not included on any maps of the complex, resting on a medical bed. Despite lack of power in the building, all of the medical equipment in SCP-4312's ward continued to function. A note was found at the foot of SCP-4312's bed that read simply: "DO NOT WAKE HER."
Following the confusion concerning SCP-4312's lack of a face, and a projected █ encounters with SCP-4312-1 conducted by medical staff on campus, the SCP Foundation was alerted. A mobile task force was sent in on 08/13/20██ to recover the anomaly and amnesticize the current population of Ridgeview Medical Center.
Addendum-02: Per request of the Ethics Commitee, on 08/22/20██, a Foundation-Standard drone with a built-in speaker was inserted into SCP-4312's face to make contact with SCP-4312-1. The resulting interaction is cataloged below.
<Begin Log>
Drone Operator: D-5784, a German man convicted of two accounts of murder.
Mission Command: Dr. Lysandra Souljourn.
The drone is inserted into SCP-4312, attracting the attention of SCP-4312-1 immediately.
SCP-4312-1: Hello? Come out and pl— oh, there you are!
The drone is unresponsive for a few moments, the camera panning around the surrounding environment, which appears to be somewhere in interstellar space.
SCP-4312-1: Hello???
Command: D-5784, surveying of the surroundings has concluded. Please activate the built-in mic and communicate with SCP-4312-1.
D-5784: Scheiße, fine. Sorry, I was just sort of in awe. Flipping on the mic now.
D-5784: (clears throat) Ahem. Hello.
SCP-4312-1: Oh my god, hi!! Man, it's been so long since I've seen anyone else out here. This is so exciting!
D-5784: Uh, yeah, I guess it is. What is this place, if you don't mind my asking?
SCP-4312-1: This? Oh, this is my dream. Do you wanna go on a tour with me? I know you're not real, but it's fun to have some company.
D-5784: I, um… Okay. Let us go.
SCP-4312-1: Great!! Oh, wait, where are my manners?! We haven't introduced ourselves yet! What's your name?
D-5784: Name? I do not have one. You can call me by number, 5784.
SCP-4312-1: That's a mouthful. Mind if I just call you Fivesie?
D-5784: Sure, whatever.
SCP-4312-1: My name, since you didn't ask, is Meredith.
D-5784: It is nice to meet you, Meredith. Apologies.
SCP-4312-1: No prob, Bob. With that out of the way, let's go, Fivesie!
SCP-4312-1 turns and moves rapidly away from the drone, quickly disappearing from sight. Before D-5784 has time to protest, SCP-4312-1 returns.
SCP-4312-1: What are you waiting for??? Come on!
D-5784: You left very quickly—
SCP-4312-1: Oh, you're just a bit slow, aren't you? That's alright. I'll just carry you along with me!
SCP-4312-1 grabs the drone and swiftly turns around, moving at rapid speeds through space. Video footage shows the motion of stars and celestial bodies speeding up and then swiftly coming to a halt, though movement is still reported from D-5784.
D-5784: Oh mein Gott, you are quick! I think I am going to be sick.
SCP-4312-1: Just a second longer!
The scene suddenly changes to show a region in space later confirmed to be in the Eagle Nebula, visually resembling the photograph "Pillars of Creation," taken by the Hubble Space Telescope in 1995.
D-5784: Wow. Where are we now? This place…
SCP-4312-1: Pretty, ain't it? I like to call these… "the Pillars of Creation." Baby stars are being formed in there as we speak! These were one of the first things I thought of, and I'm still proud of them.
D-5784: As you should be, they are a marvelous sight to behold.
SCP-4312-1: Aww, thank you. Say, do you wanna see something else?
D-5784: Um, such as?
SCP-4312-1: Well, we were talking about baby stars, so I was thinking, how cool would it be if I showed you the brightest star ever?
D-5784: Nein, I'm afraid that I should be getting back now—
SCP-4312-1: Um actually, I really want to show you, so you don't get a choice. Sorry!
SCP-4312-1 grabs the drone again and the previous process repeats. When the scene changes, the camera shows a region of space later confirmed to be in the Canis Major constellation. The star Alpha Canis Majoris, known informally as "Sirius," is visible.
D-5784: Fuck, that is bright! Brighter than staring straight at the Sun at midday!
SCP-4312-1: Oh, you know about Sol? That's one of my favorites, I have a planet around that star called Earth that I've put a lot of work into. Do you wanna see it?
Command: Stepping in to advise against that course of action. We don't know what we're dealing with here, and taking it directly to Earth, whether its our real Earth or not, doesn't seem like a good idea.
D-5784: Understood, Command.
SCP-4312-1: Huh? Who are you talking to? Command?
D-5784: Nobody, do not worry. I am afraid that nein, I will not be able to accept your request to look at Earth.
SCP-4312-1: Aw, why are you being such a spoil sport right now? You didn't wanna see two of the things I've had to show you so far!
D-5784: I apologize. I have had long day and I wish to return home.
SCP-4312-1: (sighs) Alright, fine… Sorry you didn't have much fun, Fivesie. But, you can come back any time you like!
SCP-4312-1 snaps her fingers, and the drone spontaneously reappears back in the containment cell at Site-17, surprising both D-5784 and Dr. Lysandra Souljourn.
<End Log>
Following the events of Exploration Log 08/23/20██, Dr. Lysandra Souljourn opened a formal correspondence with the Site Director of Site-17, requesting sole experimentation authority with SCP-4312. The resulting exchange is cataloged below.
NOTIFICATION
You have a new message.
FROM: Dr. Lysandra Souljourn
TO: Site Director HayakawaGood morning Site Director Hayakawa,
This is Dr. Lysandra Souljourn, requesting sole experimentation authority with SCP-4312. I do not believe that continuing with D-Class testing would be a wise course of action with this anomaly. While I understand the risk that this poses to the Foundation, I believe that sending in a Level-3 Researcher or above is necessary. The abilities of this anomaly are unknown, but an incident during the first experiment has left me highly concerned that we may be dealing with something that requires the direct interference of someone at least as qualified as myself. D-Class simply won't cut it, and in fact have already thrown a bit of a wrench into plans.
Please reply as soon as possible.
P.S. If it turns out I am wrong, and this anomaly does not require such a high level of attention after all, we can go right back to the D-Class.
| Reply |
|---|
NOTIFICATION
You have a new message.
FROM: Site Director Hayakawa
TO: Dr. Lysandra SouljournGood morning Dr. Lysandra Souljourn,
You have not had the best of luck in the past with keeping your word, but if your claim that this is something that can only be handled by a researcher of your clearance is serious, then fine. Your request for sole experimentation authority with SCP-4312 has been approved. Don't let me down.
P.S. Does your husband know about this? You're always leaving poor Ephret in the dust.
| Reply |
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Following approval of Site Director Hayakawa, Dr. Lysandra Souljorn conducted an interview on SCP-4312-1, using the same Foundation-Standard drone as the one used in Exploration Log 08/23/20██.
The following interview log needs to be re-written to reflect Lysandra's professional attitude. Lysandra will ask Meredith questions about her dream, where she came from, who she is or was, etc. Meredith will answer that the entire universe is her dream and while she does not understand the question of who she was, she remembers using some sort of device made by an anartist group working in conjunction with Prometheus Labs. It was supposed to forcibly induce a lucid dreaming state in her and allow her to create art at a whim.
<Begin Log>
The drone is operated by Dr. Lysandra Souljourn, a Level-3 Researcher at Site-17. Mission command is operated by Dr. Ephret Souljourn, her husband.
Command: Be careful, honey.
Dr. L. Souljourn: Everything will be fine, as long as you keep your mouth shut. What's the worst that could happen?
Command: I've always hated that phrase…
The drone is inserted into SCP-4XXX, attracting the attention of SCP-4XXX-1 immediately.
SCP-4XXX-1: Fivesie! You're back!
Dr. L. Souljourn. Sorry, no. I'm a newcomer.
SCP-4XXX-1: Oh? Where's Fivesie, then? Never mind that, I'm so excited to meet you! Two new friends in just a couple days, how exciting is that? Anyways, what's your name?
Dr. L. Souljourn: You may call me Lysandra.
SCP-4XXX-1: Ooh, intimidating. I think I'll call you Lysie. You remind me of my mom! Are you a mom too? What are your kids' names?
Dr. L. Souljorn: Unfortunately, no. I'm not a mom.
SCP-4XXX-1: Aw, that's a bummer. I was really hoping I could meet your kids and play with them!
Dr. L. Souljourn: You're awfully friendly for a teenager.
SCP-4XXX-1: Maybe so. I haven't had many friends, so I don't really have any social skills, and floating around out here gets kind of boring when I don't have any new ideas. It's really lame that my two newest friends are both adults, but it's whatever.
Dr. L. Souljourn: Unfortunately, I don't know if it will be a possibility to get you any friends in your age group.
SCP-4XXX-1: Aw, what? Why???
Dr. L. Souljourn: Strictly confidential information.
SCP-4XXX-1: Ooh. Mysterious. I like it! Hey, you want to see something else mysterious?
Dr. L. Souljourn: I'd love to.
SCP-4XXX-1: Great! Follow m— oh, you're slow like Fivesie was, right?
Dr. L. Souljourn: I'm afraid so, yes.
SCP-4XXX-1: That's okay. It's no trouble to carry you along!
SCP-4XXX-1 grabs the drone and swiftly turns around, moving at rapid speeds through space. Video footage shows the motion of stars and celestial bodies speeding up and then swiftly coming to a halt.
Dr. L. Souljourn: Oh god, D-5784 wasn't kidding when he said that you were quick.
SCP-4XXX-1: Well, you gotta get around somehow! The universe is a big place— I would know!
The scene suddenly changes to show a region of space later confirmed to be located in the Sagittarius constellation.
Dr. L. Souljourn: Wow. This is marvelous.
SCP-4XXX-1: Oh, it's nothing really. I'm not as proud of this work as I am of others, but it's nice to know how popular it is. I heard that some people made up a whole system of belief around this constellation, and eleven or twelve others… There was also a really popular webcomic that included this constellation… oh, and one time I sent out a funny signal from here! I wonder how confused whoever ended up getting it was.
Dr. L. Souljourn: Hold on, are you talking about the Wow! signal?
SCP-4XXX-1: Is that what you guys called it? That's kinda funny.
Dr. L. Souljourn You're telling me that one of the most well-known modern pieces of evidence regarding extraterrestrial life, was just you messing around out here?
SCP-4XXX-1: I suppose it was. Hey, does that mean you guys are looking for aliens?
Dr. L. Souljourn: Well, those in the light are.
SCP-4XXX-1: Oh. I dunno what that means, but you guys know there are like, a lot of aliens, right? Like a lot of them.
Dr. L. Souljourn: We're aware.
SCP-4XXX-1: Oh, are you? Then why was the Wow! signal or whatever you called it such a big deal?
Dr. L. Souljourn: We weren't aware back when we received that signal. It has since been largely debunked, but at least if it's any consolation to the crazy conspiracy theorists out there, I've just found solid evidence that the signal was in fact caused by a sapient creature.
SCP-4XXX-1: Hehe, that'd be me!
Dr. L. Souljourn: Right. SCP-4XXX-1, is there anything else you'd like to show or tell me while I'm here?
SCP-4XXX-1: Is that some sort of fancy classification? My name's Meredith, you know. Hey wait, are you like, from the FBI or something?
Dr. L. Souljourn: No.
SCP-4XXX-1: Ooh. An even more secret organization, then?
Dr. L. Souljourn: I can neither confirm nor deny.
SCP-4XXX-1: I guess I'll take that as a yes! Anyways, let's see… what's something else cool I could show you? Oh, I know! Since we were talking about secret organizations, let's check up on what one of them is doing now!
Dr. L. Souljourn: Actually, I think I'm good, let's n—
SCP-4XXX-1: Here we go!!!
At this point, SCP-4XXX-1, the Foundation-Standard drone, and Dr. Lysandra Souljourn all vanish. Video and audio feed are cut off.
Command: Hello? Hello?! Lysandra, where did you go? Oh god, no.
<End Log>
An anomalous book owned by Ms. Terri Ospurson. Inside the book is a pocket dimension that induces a state of lucid dreaming, creating an avatar of the dreaming individual that can manipulate reality to varying degrees, seemingly reliant on their confidence. For all intents and purposes, lucid "dreamers" spawned by this device are considered Reality-Benders.
The dreamers will cease to exist if they observe their own sleeping physical bodies, and merge with themselves once more, losing all degree of control over reality. Anything that has been affected by the dreamers will instantly revert to how it was before they began dreaming. For this reason, SCP-4312-1 is never to be allowed to see SCP-4312, as it is very possible that she is dreaming up the entire universe.
The original purpose of the device was to bring the imagination into reality and channel the Flow at high pressures to instantaneously create art without any of the work that would normally need to be put behind it. It was shortly discovered (by Meredith, the first dreamer) that the device could allow you to manipulate the whole of reality, as circumventing the work needed to create art is one step removed from circumventing the work needed to do anything you can think of.
"Why do you create art?"
It's a question that no one thinks about, but is necessary to know the answer to.
You can't create art for no reason. Everything has a purpose behind it.
Or does it?
Everyone wants to carry a message in their art, to get the viewer to experience something specific.
Or do they?
"I create art because it's fun, and its a nice byproduct that other people can enjoy it."
How can you know if people enjoy your art?
One creates art to resonate with another. One creates art to serve an arbitrary purpose they see fit.
How can you know if your purpose has gotten across to your viewer?
Unless you take the time out of your day to tell me, I will never know for sure. But I can always be proud of having made something good enough that you were content to read it up to this point.
So tell me. Why do you create art?
This is just a tab for me to write down character descriptions and tale ideas and stuff for my new anartist characters.
I will find a way to connect Causation of Creation with the Parapsychology Division and with Narrative Seizure. It might turn out that the anartists played a major role in developing the World Chaos Device, perhaps alongside the Chaos Insurgency.
Phillip Evans:
An anartist who creates music. His motivation is to project his insecurities on others because he wants the whole world to feel just as insecure as he does. Songs are the most catchy medium to do so with, and he doesn't even have to make them memetic because they're memetic enough on their own, if you make them right. He likes to portray himself as a confident man who knows what he's doing, but he's cocky, prideful, nervous, and insecure. His fedora and trench coat lend little to his disguise — he may think it makes him look like a 1920's detective, but in reality it just makes him look like a brony. Which he may or may not have been at one point.
Maureen Saffins:
An anartist who creates simple art installations. Her motivation is to give others meaning where there is none. Her work is mostly mundane, the one anomalous thing she adds is a cognitohazard that makes people think about the meaning of her piece in whatever terms their brain sees fit. If she were to show them a frame filled with construction tools, with a plaque that says "LIFE," the viewer would think about what they thought the meaning of life was and how the construction tools played into it, and eventually reach the conclusion that "life is what you make of it." She is a confident and forceful woman, but good-natured at heart. She likes to let out her soft side often, but when she is working towards a goal she will not relent until she has got what she wanted. She cares almost indiscriminately for all people on Earth and wishes only for them to receive meaning and happiness in their lives.
Terri Ospurson:
A woman who works on making a lot of intricately connected fictional worlds, which she records in a book she calls "The Compendium." The book is non-Euclidean in nature, much longer on the inside than it appears to be. She has been working on the intricate connections of all of the worlds inside The Compendium for so long that one can get lost reading it for days. The Compendium can act as an impossible space, leading into a room in which everything Terri writes and has written into it becomes manifest. Turning the book inside out has unintended consequences.
Gillian Tyrone Pardi (Gil T. Pardi):
The father of Meredith. Specializes in extradimensional spaces. Rarely pays attention to his daughter or her artistry.
Meredith Pardi:
The teenage daughter of Gil who likes to put on plays with living dolls. Her current muses are "the Parapsychology Division," a department of researchers in the Jailors' Foundation. Later, these characters become "real" as Meredith and Kay make themselves the owner of Terri's Compendium and dream up interfering narratives. Meredith, above all else, wants recognition from the world. She wants to tell a story that everyone will hear, because no one has been interested in hearing her stories before. She has always been overshadowed by other artists, and passed off as being childish. She becomes inspired by Maureen, and tells a story with the world.
ideas for anart the anartists can make:
Phillip makes a song that causes people to open themselves like a book to him.
Maureen makes a frame with construction tools in it that says "LIFE" because "life is what you make of it."
Maureen makes a "psychic painting." The canvas shows whatever you expect to be on there.
Meredith wants to put on a play with her Parapsychology Division dolls, and Kay Viridian spawns out of nothing and steps onto the stage, putting on their own play that overshadows Meredith's story, angering her immensely.
The whole gang works together to make "A Complete Deconstruction of Art" an exposition where there is no actual art and the viewers are filled with a desire to create and bring their artistry into the world. During this expo, Meredith steals the Compendium of Knowledge from Terri and writes in that she is it's new owner, then turning it inside out to bring the pocket dimension Gil built into it into the real world. After Meredith passes out and starts dreaming, Kay writes in that they are the true owner of the Compendium, and commandeer Meredith's narrative.
Maureen & Gil work together to make a perception-blocking robe out of the canvas of her psychic painting.
Meredith makes a living puppet out of the dead body of an SCP personnel member at some point.
Theme of the titles: Every title is one word and ends in either a -sion or a -tion.
Third tale: Excursion
Description: This tale follows Phillip Evans adventures in wherever he had to go. I think I'll say he created a song that makes people insecure to the point that they start spontaneously opening themselves up to others, both mentally and literally. He plays this song at an anime convention, which he is there both for his own enjoyment and because its full of other insecure people. This causes widespread panic and the Foundation gets called in. Phillip makes a break for it like "ah shit, that went a little TOO well" May introduce Researcher Viridian here. or I might make Viridian into an agent. Agent Viridian, who is totally not a ripoff of Agent Green (im kidding ofc shes actually not)
Fourth tale: Escalation
resumes at the apartment, as Maureen gathers why everyone makes their art. Phillip shows up near the end of the night and is like "shit guys" Maureen gathers up all her things and moves in with everyone. Everyone else may also move in this tale because of Phillip's fun time at the otaku convention.
Fifth Tale: Tribulation
a witness has led the SCP foundation directly to apartment room 232, and/or wherever they have moved. Phillip Evans and everyone else who was there at the time is detained. Maureen is possibly out with one of them or something, and she comes back to find that everyones gone and there are "police" guarding the area. Terri and her Compendium show up later and she reveals that the Suits were unable to find any anomalous activity relating to her.
Sixth Tale: Intermission (No. 1)
The first excerpt from The Compendium. Terri lets Maureen read the first few pages of it. This will be something about the fiction creates reality thing and maybe hint at the fact that Terri is a bonafide reality bender.
??? Tale: Exposition
A tale where the whole truth about… something. is told. i haven't figured out what it is yet but i definitely want someone to be keeping a big secret and blaming mr gil t pardi on it. SCP-2138 may come into play here.
More tantalizing tale names:
Retroaction
Causation
Creation
Conclusion
SCP-2138 possibly?
Might not use this but it would be a neat collaboration between Maureen and Phillip.
Title: A Complete Deconstruction of Music
Material Requirements:
- The complete discography of the most famous musical artists of the last millennium, including but not limited to: the works of Beethoven, Mozart, (third one), (fourth one). Additional discographies may be added at the artist's discretion.
- (A manual on musical theory)
- A part of the brain of my musical teacher, (make up a name here)
- A part of the brain of John Milton Cage Jr.
- One bag of peppermints. (source not important.)
- A memetic effect that greatly quiets surrounding background noise.
- A memetic primer to prepare the minds of the listeners for creative thinking.
- (the instruments?)
- (the recording device)
Abstract: The song should be safe to play to a crowd of any size. No possibly harmful effects were (intentionally) included in this piece. Due to the memetic effect which quiets background noise, the environment in which this piece is played is not important. Playback device must be fully functional and experience no errors or skipping in playback — it is unknown what may occur if the song is interrupted. Patrons are allowed to communicate with one another if they so desire, as the effect is not compulsive and idle chat does not break the focus of the piece. However, individuals are not to enter or leave the room during the entirety of the 5 minute song. Recording devices are to be prohibited — for not only will they not succeed in recording the silence of the piece, but they are liable to break the listener's focus.
Intent: In this section, the artist, speaking in first person, describes their reasons for creating this piece; what motivated them to come up with the idea, what they hope to achieve by producing it, how they went about making it, who the intended audience is, what kind of reaction they hope to get from the audience, and so on.
The curtains rise on a lonely stage, unveiling the figures of two conductors. The pair stands side by side, their heads lowered in solemn reverence for a world that never was.
The conductor on the left raises their head and smiles, an unearthly smile of pure chaos and joy, and begins to speak.
"Come one, come all! Welcome, to a tale of dreaming gods, of the misery of an artist, and the hopeless struggle for recognition in an uncaring world! Listen in tonight to hear the story of how I was born, and the purpose I chose to serve! Let's—"
The conductor on the left ceases to speak, as a baton hits them in the side of the head, and the conductor on the right steps forwards.
"We'll get to that later, Kay. Tonight, I wish only to tell you a story of humble beginnings. Let me tell you about a woman named Maureen, who was my biggest inspiration in life."
The conductor on the left, who you now know to be named Kay, scowled at the conductor on the right, but remained silent. They sorely rubbed the side of their head.
"Though it hurt me dearly to learn her true nature, I took a piece of her with me and became something new. Tonight's story is a lesson of how the influence of others can change you and the world around you in remarkable ways."
The conductor on the right grabbed a second baton out of thin air, and began to wave its whimsies. A full cast of actors sprung up from the mahogany of the stage, prepared to bend to suit the story she wished to tell.
"We'll be starting at the beginning. Or as much of a beginning as we can find. The humble start of an anartist group in downtown New York, and the woman who would change their lives. For better or for worse, I'll never know."
The walls around her crumbled away like sand, unveiling the scene of a well-known metropolis on modern Earth. The two conductors slowly faded away, til it seemed that they were no longer there at all. In the background, the conductor on the right began to tell her story.
A guide for me so I remember what I'm planning to do with rewriting this tale.
- The main character is going to eventually change into Meredith Pardi.
- Remove a Majority of the introduction between Maureen and Phillip; that scene plays on for too long
- Keep in the introductions between all the other characters as a kind of "I'll get back to this later"
- Switch to Phillip's perspective and include what would have been in Excursion?
- Or, have more interaction between Maureen and Meredith.
What fucking time is it?
That was the first thought in her mind as she awoke to the sound of her phone alarm.
She turned over and looked at the clock on the screen. Shit, it's 3 PM. I really need to stop sleeping in so late.
What had happened yesterday was all but a blur to her. She got up out of bed, and got dressed. It was only when she was halfway through brushing her teeth when it hit her.
Fuck! I was supposed to meet that guy at the coffee shop next block over today!
She hurriedly finished getting ready and rushed in the direction of the coffee shop.
It occurred to her that they had not even set a time to meet up, but she could only assume he wanted to meet at around the same time they had yesterday.
It occurred to her as well that there would be no way for him to call her and ask her about their plans. She hadn't even given him her phone number, let alone her name. The two didn't even get a chance to introduce themselves before she had driven home her invasive question.
Man, I am notoriously bad at introductions, she thought as she darted down the street, narrowly dodging a passing cab.
"Ey, I'm walkin' here, asshole!" she shouted, and rushed onward, with little time to chuckle over how corny that was.
It's getting kind of late, he thought idly to himself.
Sitting there in his fedora and trench coat, glasses pushed up as high as they could go, and a lukewarm coffee, sugar-filled and stuffed with cream, he waited for the arrival of the unnamed woman. The two of them had arranged for another meeting today, but in his hurry to leave he had forgotten to introduce himself or give her his phone number.
Man, what was with her? I was so distracted by her question I didn't even think to ask who she was. Now how am I going to contact her? It's 3 PM already, I've got somewhere to be today!
Sighing, he downed the rest of his coffee and got up to speak with the barista.
"Hey, if a woman comes in here today asking around for someone who matches my description — y'know, fedora, trench coat, glasses, you tell her I had to go and deal with personal business and I'll meet her here tomorrow at 12, 'kay?"
The barista nodded, and he knew full well she would not remember to relay his message.
Just as he opened the door to leave, there that woman was, barreling into him.
Oh god, I'm super late. What if he's left already? I need to get there as quick as I can, just in case! was the only thought echoing through her mind as she ran.
She turned the corner and barged the front doors of the coffee shop wide open, and found herself laying on the ground in a heap on top of the very man she had come to meet.
"Oof, Jesus—" he said, with a start.
The woman quickly sprung up and dusted herself off.
"Sorry, so sorry! I was afraid I would miss you." she said, holding out her hand.
"Yeah, well, you damn near did." he gruffly muttered, willfully ignoring her hand as he helped himself up and dusted off his trench coat.
"So, well, I'm here. Oh! Before I forget — introductions are in order!" cried the woman.
"Yeah, I was just about to say the same thing." he said, grimacing at her lack of volume control.
The woman hastily scribbled down on a note card and shoved it into the man's hand.
"My name's Maureen Saffins. Here's my phone number."
The man blinked at her, still trying to get his bearings after the fall.
"Name's Phillip Evans. I'll write my number down in a sec."
He fumbled with his coat pocket, loosing an ungodly amount of papers all over the ground, which he hastily scrambled to pick up.
"Don't look at those — those are lyrics for songs. I'm not finished writing them. Now, where did I put my goddamn note cards…"
Phillip fumbled around awkwardly for a few more seconds.
It was at this point that both of them noticed the fact that they were standing in the front door of this coffee shop, and every patron and barista was staring at them.
Maureen flushed red with embarrassment, and Phillip hid his face in his coat.
"W-we should go sit down." suggested Maureen.
"Yeah." agreed Phillip.
"Ah, here we are. Finally."
Phillip pulled out a note card and scribbled down on it, handing it over to Maureen, who was now sipping on a dark coffee, sugarless.
"My phone number. Now we can stay in contact and we hopefully won't have another incident like this."
"Great! Oh, I saw you were leaving when I came in, did you have anywhere important to be?"
The man smacked his head, flushing a little with embarrassment.
"Fuck! I completely forgot! Listen, I really gotta go—"
"Wait! I haven't gotten to see the rest of your group yet, surely you're not the only member?" Maureen interjected.
"We're just down the street, corner of 63rd and Statton. The big apartment building. Ring the buzzer for room 232, ask for 'Gil.' Now I really have to go, so, I'll see you later. Tell everyone there I sent you and you'll be just fine!" said Phillips, as he hastily rushed out of the cafe.
Maureen looked up at the tall apartment building before her. What a sight to behold, she thought.
She had only moved to the big city in recent times, so tall buildings were still quite marvelous to her.
Maureen stepped up to the buzzer at the front gate, and pressed the button for "232." Almost immediately, a teenage girl's voice came on.
"H-hewwo? Who is this???"
Maureen sighed. "I was told to ask for Gil. Phillip sent me. I'm the new 'recruit,' so to speak."
"Oh, hi! I'll go get Gil for you."
There was a sound of shuffling on the other end, and a muffled shout. "Gil! The new recruit's here!"
Maureen tapped her foot impatiently.
30 seconds passed, and then a new voice came over the intercom. It was a gruff and angry voice, one that shook Maureen to her core.
"Hello? Name, now."
"M-m-maureen! Maureen Saffins!" she stammered out.
The man on the other end chuckled, a hearty chuckle, one not unlike that of a proud father. And suddenly, Maureen's fear was alleviated.
"Maureen. Welcome! Come on in, come on in, I'll buzz you right up!"
There was the sound of a buzzer, and the gates opened, allowing Maureen access to the apartment. She made a beeline for the second floor, and looked for room 232. She got kind of turned around, as one does in unfamiliar buildings, but in the end she made it, and knocked confidently on the door.
Within seconds, the door was answered by a large man who Maureen could only assume was Gil, and a much smaller teenage girl by his side. Behind them, she could see a woman writing feverishly into a large book.
"Hello, hello, welcome! Great to have you aboard! Come on in, make yourself at home!"
And so, she did.
The four people in apartment room 232 all sat in a circle, a TV playing softly in the background.
"So, it's time for introductions. Everyone, say hello to Maureen, our new recruit." said Gil.
The teenage girl waved excitedly at Maureen. "Hiii! My name's Meredith, and I like to make living puppets! Sometimes I even put on plays with them. I've got a whole collection, wanna see?"
"Maybe later," said Maureen.
Gil looked at the other woman, who was still writing into her book, and then turned and waved softly at Maureen.
"You know my name already, so no sense in repeating it. I like to make impossible spaces and hidden rooms. I have a lot of them in this very apartment, but if anyone asks, there's nothing weird going on with the architecture of this room, got it?" he said, with an unnecessarily aggressive inflection on the end of that sentence.
Maureen quivered. "G-got it."
Gil and Meredith looked over at the woman who was writing in her book.
"Ahem."
She did not notice.
"AHEM!"
Her pen slipped out of her grasp and flew into the air, and she turned to Gil and Meredith with a glare. "What do you want?"
"It's time to introduce ourselves. The new recruit's here, she wants to know who we are and what kind of art we make."
The woman sighed, and put down her book.
"Name's Terri. I like to write, as you can see. You could call me 'The Worldweaver' if you wanted, but that'd just be pretentious, so just call me Terri."
Maureen faked a smile.
"What's your name again, anyways?" asked Terri, with a quizzical expression.
"Oh! My name's Maureen."
"Maureen. You can take a read in my Compendium any time, if you like. Now if you all will excuse me, I'm going to get back to writing."
Gil turned to Maureen, with an apologetic look on his face.
"Sorry about her," he said. "Anyways, what kind of art do you like to make, Maureen?"
"Art installations. Stuff you can hang up in a frame."
"That's not a very good way to communicate a message." said Gil.
"Neither's making hidden rooms, or writing in a huge book."
"Touché." said Gil.
"Now, I'll ask you all a question that I asked Phillip before coming here." said Maureen.
"Oh? And what's that?" Gil asked, with a tilt of his head.
"Why do you create art?"
I'm probably not going to use this. But I'm keeping it for some inspiration.
Don't cry because it's over — cry because you never got to see it truly begin.
It's the end of the story now, and here you are, left feeling… disappointed. Empty. Like you're missing something you deserve. A meaning. What was the point? I'm here to tell you that there was no point. The meaning of this story is what you make of it.
Here would be the part where I tell you all of my existentialist views and go on a long, and depressing rant. This is where that part would be if I hadn't gotten over all of that a long time ago. is because I ended up ranting anyways. But it wasn't depressing.
I used to be deep into that stuff, completely locked into a depressive nihilistic viewpoint of the world. When I dug deep down into things, the deepest I could go, I always found myself disappointed, and frustrated. Because there was nothing there at the bottom. I could not find any meaning in anything I did or anything that existed.
When you break it down to its barest essentials, everything in the entire universe objectively serves no purpose. There is no point to it, no reason for it to exist, no meaning. And I used to lament furiously over that fact, because I wanted meaning. I wanted truth. I wanted to know the nature of the universe.
But then one day, I decided I would stop all of that. It was getting tiring, so I figured "Why do I care, anyways? I don't need any sort of meaning in life. I'll just be happy from now on." If the universe was truly meaningless and none of my actions mattered, then life was just a playground that I was meant to enjoy. And for a time this new approach worked — until it didn't.
You see, the brain doesn't let go easily. No matter what I did, no matter how I tried to be happy, my brain kept dipping back into that depressive nihilist territory. Every time I felt a shred of joy, my brain would remind me callously — why? Why do you feel happy? What purpose does this serve to you, what does it mean to you? Nothing. Nothing was the answer.
I still needed something, I could not bear to live in a world where there was no meaning. I searched and searched, and finally I found it. The one thing that truly mattered to me: what matters to others. I have always been a helper type. I am the person you go to when you have a problem and you have no one else to talk to about it. I am the person who listens, the person who understands, the person who does not discriminate, the person who helps you work through any issue you might have.
And so with all that in mind, the one true meaning to me is giving meaning to others. A brief reprieve from the reality that nothing in their life matters. I wanted to give as many people in the world the meaning I felt they deserved. But there was a very specific way I wanted to go about it.
I did not want to be a therapist, because therapy is frankly incredibly stressful, for both parties involved I'd imagine. I wouldn't know because I've never been to therapy myself, but I don't like the concept.
I did not want to be a social worker or a cop because they have been corrupted in recent times. And besides, I could never have the skills, the determination, the motivation, or the courage to work in any jobs like those.
I wanted to give the world meaning in a more subtle way. A way that no one would think of as important in this modern age, despite the fact that mankind has valued it for as long as he has known how to hold things in his hand.
I wanted to create art. Art is a beautiful thing, really. The human imagination is even more beautiful. Our brains are filled with this incredibly complex algorithm that takes every little bit of information we retain in our entire lives and snips them up, cuts them to pieces, slices and dices them, blends them all together, and then glues them back up, finishing it off with a nice bow. And at the end of that arduous process, we have created something new.
Art is wonderful because art can be anything. And art can carry a message. You can be blunt and create art that only has one message and no other possible interpretations, or you can be vague and create art that has many meanings, many of which you didn't even know you put in there.
Anyone can look at your work and discern what it means to them, discern whether it matters to them. If your art is good enough, you can give so many different meanings to so many different viewers. And if you're lucky, it just might stick with them for life. You might have created something that matters immensely to someone, something that shapes their entire existence.
And that is what inspired me to write these tales. I wanted to give meaning to you, dear viewer. What is your takeaway from this story? How much does this story matter to you? Will you let it affect you for life? Or will you forget it by tomorrow? Unless you take the time out of your day to tell me, I will never know for sure. But I can always be proud of having made something good enough that you were content to read it up to this point.
After all that ranting, I realize I don't really have a good way to end this. And so, I'll just do it bluntly.
The end.
brøther where are the lämps?
Item #: SCP-LÄMP-J
Object Class: Euclid Contained
Special Containment Procedures: A misinformation campaign has been propagated across the globe, suggesting that the behavior of this anomaly, while not understood, is normal. The baseline has been redefined accordingly, and this anomaly is considered contained. Global Internet forums are to be monitored by Foundation web crawlers for any trace of skepticism surrounding this misinformation campaign or observation of attempted communication from insects on the order Lepidoptera. Internet memes are to be produced and propagated to contextualize this anomaly as a non-serious joke.
Description: SCP-LÄMP-J is the designation assigned to a phenomenon affecting any light-emitting object found outside during night, which is automatically classified as an instance of SCP-LÄMP-J-1. Once an object has been converted into SCP-LÄMP-J-1, it will begin exhibiting SCP-LÄMP-J's main property, which is the mass attraction of approximately 90% of insects belonging to the order Lepidoptera, more commonly known as "moths."
The radius of effect of SCP-LÄMP-J is currently unknown, but appears to be limited by the duration of night. All moths within this radius will be attracted to the light-emitting object and upon reaching their destination, will bump against this object incessantly. In some cases, direct constant with SCP-LÄMP-J-1 results in the subsequent death of moths. Despite this, the moths continue to be attracted to the object.
Addendum #1: On 12/05/████, the Ethics Committee submitted a formal request to increase containment efforts regarding SCP-LÄMP-J, due to expressed sadness when observing moths willingly throwing themselves to their deaths. The O5 Council approved this request, and on 12/07/████, containment efforts for SCP-LÄMP-J were escalated.
Addendum #2: As part of escalated containment efforts, The Foundation attempted to conduct an interview with a group of moths attracted to an instance of SCP-LÄMP-J-1 using Morse code. To their surprise, the moths began bumping the instance in Morse code. The response is recorded below.
brøther may i have some lämp
Written for the End of Death Canon.
The Sun erupted into supernova, yet still mankind persisted.
Those who had the forethought and the money, built and boarded ships that took them beyond the wrath of their dying star's heat.
Those who didn't… their charred remains scattered through the cosmos, burnt brain cells briefly linking together to produce semblances of thought. It was unknown whether the people they once were felt any pain, for it was no question of whether or not they were alive, but the world did not care. It was beyond their control.
(I lost my short little bout of inspiration but if I ever come back to this I want this tale to go from the death of the Earth up to the heat death of the universe, as all matter and energy decays. I want to answer what happens to everyone on Earth when everything disappears.)
