This shall be made so much prettier later on.
So much prettier.
Like, you'll look at it and go "Wow, this is really pretty".
It will grow from the ugly duckling it is into something akin to a swan.
Expect it.
THIS GOT POSTED AND TANKED. WILL LIKELY REWORK COMPLETELY, IF NOT SHELVE.
SCP-XXXX |
---|
—Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX is currently contained in a standard telescope case within Sector 44's Storage Locker 1A. Any proposals for testing of SCP-XXXX must be approved by a level 3 Senior Researcher.
Description: SCP-XXXX is a mounted, bronze optical telescope. It measures 33 centimeters when fully collapsed, and 75 centimeters when fully extended. Engraved around the circumference of SCP-XXXX's objective lens are the twelve symbols of the Western astrological zodiac.
SCP-XXXX's anomalous effects are made apparent when it is used to view a clear sky where a large amount of stars are visible. When SCP-XXXX is used to observe one or more constellations represented in the Western astrological zodiac, subjects are able to perceive a translucent outline of the animal, entity, or object associated with that constellation (see Table A). At the same time, the lens engraving associated with those constellations will glow dimly.
The image that appears to SCP-XXXX's viewer is animate, although it will not travel outside of viewer's scope of vision. The behavior of the images varies depending on two differing factors: the Gregorian calendar date, and the viewer's date of birth. The former variable appears to determine the mobility and activity of SCP-XXXX's images, while the latter appears to determine the effect that the images will have on the viewer. Subjects who use SCP-XXXX to view the constellation that corresponds to their date of birth in the Western zodiac will exhibit inflated personality traits, as well as drastic physical changes (See Table A).
TABLE A
Subject (birth date) | Date of Experiment | Constellations viewed | Behavior of Image | Notes |
D-XXXX-1 (3/24/1980) | 7/21/2011 | Cancer | Appeared as a white outline of Dromia personata. Very mobile, snapping claws and moving aimlessly. Disappeared when not all stars were within D-XXXX-1's viewpoint, but reappeared mid-movement when focus was returned | D-XXXX-1 exhibited no distinct changes in behavior or personality following the test. |
D-XXXX-2 (5/30/1975) | 7/21/2011 | Gemini | Appeared as a dull yellow outline of two male Homo sapiens. Not very mobile, occasional hand gestures between the two are noted. | After the test, personnel decided that noted changes in D-XXXX-2's behavior required a psychiatric evaluation. Determined that D-XXXX-2 was experiencing inflated symptoms of bipolar disorder, which D-XXXX-2 had been diagnosed with earlier. Symptoms have since subsided. |
D-XXXX-3 (2/1/1989) | 7/22/2011 | Aquarius, Capricorn | Appeared as a dark purple outline of a Homo sapien ('Aquarius') holding a small jug, and a white outline of a sea-goat ('Capricorn'). Both moved slowly. 'Aquarius' approached 'Capricorn', appearing to be offering its jug. 'Capricorn' appeared to take a sip from the jug, before turning away. Test concluded at this time. | After the test, D-XXXX-3 became notably more cooperative in general procedure over a period of about 48 hours. During said period, D-XXXX-3 politely requested information regarding SCP-XXXX's effects so that he could better understand the 'good work' he was doing, and was denied. |
D-XXXX-4 (12/11/1991) | 11/25/2011 | Sagittarius | Appeared as a dark blue outline of a centaur, armed with an archer's bow. Extremely mobile, attempted many times to leave D-XXXX-4's viewpoint (though appeared unable to do so). 15 seconds into the test, the image appeared to fire an arrow towards D-XXXX-4. Test ended forcibly at this time. | After D-XXXX-4 noted that the image appeared to fire an arrow, subject recoiled from SCP-XXXX and doubled over. Over the course of the following 35 seconds, a horse's hindquarters sprouted from the small of D-XXXX-4's back, resulting in subject resembling a centaur.. D-XXXX-4 later reported that the process was 'painless', 'natural', and 'like waking up from a long sleep'. Subject's condition has yet to reverse or lessen; classification of D-XXXX-4 as an SCP is under review. |
D-XXXX-1 (3/24/1980) | 3/29/2012 | Aries | Appeared as a dark red outline of a male Ovis aries. Extremely mobile, appeared to look D-XXXX-1 directly in the eye and approach the lens. Test ended forcibly at this time. | After noting the image's active behavior, D-XXXX-1 backed away staggeringly from SCP-XXXX and doubled over. Over the course of the following 20 seconds, D-XXXX-1 developed horns resembling that of a male Ovis aries, and grew a thick layer of wool on subject's arms and face. D-XXXX-1 then attempted to assault the personnel present, and was subdued by Dr. Xavier. Questioning of D-XXXX-1 regarding the incident is under review. |
Addendum 1-A: SCP-XXXX was recovered at the Gabriel Utterson Observatory in ██████████████, ██. The Foundation was alerted to its presence after receiving reports of a 'were-lion' attacking locals. Along with SCP-XXXX, Foundation operatives recovered a number of personal effects belonging to one Friedrich Hagenbeck, a resident of ██████████████. Among the possessions were astrological journals as well as detailed notes regarding SCP-XXXX, signed with Hagenbeck's name as well as a Leo symbol. Attached to the side of SCP-XXXX's case was what appeared to be a page of Hagenbeck's journal, as the handwriting matches that of his notes.
August 29th
Well, my birthday approaches. With this telescope, I [illegible] 'smoke' that apparently covers this earth. Tonight, I will be the first human being in years to see through that veil and look at what may lie beyond. The journals of my forebears speak of 'awakenings' and 'emergence from a diluted cocoon.' Try as I might, I cannot predict what will happen when I gaze upon the Lion. But, as my father did and his father before him, [illegible] "wake up" once and for all. I can only hope. -Friedrich—
^^ SCP-XXXX ^^ |
---|
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX is contained in Storage Locker 2B at Sector 23. Copies of any or all scenes present in SCP-XXXX can be obtained by filing a request to any Level 3 Senior Researcher at Sector 23. Usage of SCP-XXXX to generate new scenes for testing purposes must be approved and supervised by no less than 2 (two) Level 3 Senior Researchers.
Description: SCP-XXXX is a copy of the ninth printing of the play Our Town by Thornton Wilder. SCP-XXXX measures 17 cm x 10.5 cm x 1 cm, identical to non-anomalous printings of Our Town. Moderate signs of wear and tear are visible on the back and spine of SCP-XXXX, and yellowing has been observed on the pages. 'Nathan O'Malley-Stage Manager (part)' is written in blue ink on the inside front cover, with a small 'smiley face' drawn inside the 'O'.
Aside from the covers and publishing information, SCP-XXXX's pages do not contain the script of Our Town. As of XX/XX/XXXX, SCP-XXXX contains 6 (six) one-page scenes, two pages covered in blue ink scribbles, and 125 blank pages.
Opening SCP-XXXX to a blank page and keeping it open for approximately 5 seconds will result in a new scene being inscribed upon the page in question. If both pages opened to are blank, the scene will appear on the lefthand page. If the left blank page already contains a scene, it will appear on the righthand page. Each scene consists of about 10 lines of dialogue between 2-4 characters, as well as stage directions describing the setting and the actions of the characters.
The content of SCP-XXXX's scenes varies to an extent. The person who originally opened SCP-XXXX will appear as a character, with any of their mannerisms or speech impediments present in the dialogue. Other characters that appear in scenes include persons the reader is familiar with (also with mannerisms present, although occasional behavorial deviations have been noted), as well as characters unknown to the reader. The settings vary in an identical fashion. The context of the scenes have ranged from word-for-word dictations of past events of which the reader was present to events of which the reader has no knowledge or have yet to transpire.
Once a scene has been completely inscribed into SCP-XXXX, notes and markings will appear in blue ink regarding the scene. The markings consist of lines of dialogue being underlined or circled and notes being written in the margins. Notes range from observations about the dialogue and/or stage directions to non-sequiturs having nothing to do with the context of the scene. Obscuring or folding the page in any way wil not prevent the scene or the notes from appearing. Any markings made on a page with a scene after both it and the notes have appeared do not change; however; any markings made on a blank page are completely crossed out with blue ink after completion.
Scenes Currently Present in SCP-XXXX:
TBA. Two scenes will be scenes found in the book upon the Foundation's requisition of it, and four scenes will have been generated by testing.
Dr. Craig Munn didn’t tend to like things in general. It wasn’t that he was a hateful person, nor that he viewed liking things as a weakness. Rather, Dr. Munn was a man that strived for neutrality in his life, which wasn’t hard to do with his average build and facial features, save for a head of platinum blonde hair and a nose that could be described as “smallish”. He believed that ignoring the negative aspects of a situation and emphasizing the positives, as people are apt to do, was counter-intuitive and biased. Nevertheless, there was one fact Dr. Munn and his colleagues were sure of: he did harbor a healthy dislike for a handful of things. Among them were small dogs, people who didn’t understand that the burden of proof lies with the asserting party, and elevators. Specifically, the elevator that served as an exit out of Sector 8.
Dr. Munn stood in the dimly lit hallway in front of two uncaring doors, caked in chipping, sea-green paint. He reflected on just how much he hated this particular elevator. He despised how its age caused it make all sorts of unpleasant noises going from his floor to the lobby front. He loathed how it was located only one hallway away from a biotic chamber for uncatalogued anomalous animals, making the wait for an elevator car even more grating on the psyche by filling the air with screeches, roars, barks, and other unpleasant sounds. He was disgusted at how the buttons always seemed to crunch whenever pushed, like there was a thick layer of crust underneath them. Most of all, he hated how it was the fastest way out of his floor, which meant he had to use it in order to be home by six o'clock. As he wracked his brain to think of more things to hate about the elevator, its doors began to grind and open slowly to reveal its interior. Granted, the interior wasn't as visually unappealing as the exterior: clean, undistracting walls, handrails that only sometimes were ice-cold, and nothing majorly unsettling besides an omnipresent handful of bugs flying around the stuttering lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. The doors, now fully open, revealed a snappily dressed, middle-aged man in mid-swat, attempting to fend off a rather pesky mosquito. A silver name badge on his breast pocket read “Harvey Peddleson, Assistant Manager”, with the ‘StarCatcher Productions’ logo engraved in the corner.
“Good-fer-nothin’ skeeters, I lose enough blood as it is…” The man turned and saw Dr. Munn’s familiar slight grimace facing him. “Oh, hey, Craig! Checking out, I assume?”
Dr. Munn begrudgingly entered the sad excuse for vertical transport and pushed 'L' for Lobby. “Yes,” wincing at the 'crunch' of the flickering button as it depressed (what a fitting word) into the wall. “I just finished reading Olson’s incident report. This is the second time this month he's gone and screwed something up.”
The old man whistled as the doors closed, trapping the two men inside the dump “I suppose he’ll be demoted, or at least reprimanded." Harvey summed up, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Shame, he played a nice game of gin.” He faced Dr. Munn and smiled. “Anyway, I just got off of lobby duty, but I’m not needed for my night shift for a good 15 minutes.” He rapped casually on the walls of the elevator. “Think this hunk of junk can make the return trip fast enough for me to see you out?”
“Appreciated, Harvey, but you didn’t need to.” Dr. Munn looked at the rattling doors, threatening to open and reveal the blur of the shaft as they rose. “Guess it’s too late to refuse, though.”
“You know, Craig, I never understood why you don’t take the night shift.” Harvey stretched his arms behind his head and yawned. “You’re one of the most diligent workers I’ve ever met, and I got recruited from the Pentagon, for Pete’s sake. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dozing, so clearly sleep isn’t an issue. Plus, you’d be able to keep this old man company in the wee hours!” He chuckled, mostly to himself. “Yet you take off at 6:00 every day like clockwork. What, you got a big family at home or something?” He poked at Dr. Munn’s side jokingly with his elbow, his eyes glinting with amiability.
Dr. Munn groaned. Harvey Peddleson absolutely loved to ask questions, and it was damn near impossible to shut him up with anything other than an answer. Seeing how they were going to be in this shitty elevator for a few minutes, Dr. Munn attempted to silence him.
“Actually, yes. My wife should be waiting for me right about now.” He coughed involuntarily, not noticing Harvey’s sudden look of surprise.
“You never told me you were married!” he exclaimed with amused surprise. The usual reaction, Dr. Munn thought to himself, rolling his eyes as Harvey continued to be flabbergasted. “My goodness! Aren’t you twenty-three or something?”
“Twenty-seven.” Dr Munn mumbled, slightly offended. “Her name’s Sharon. I’ve been married for eight years.”
Harvey’s jaw dropped, almost making him a dead ringer for 096. “Six years? So…so you were married at nineteen? That’s…that’s…”
“That’s true.” Dr. Munn sighed. He was familiar with giving this spiel to people who got curious, speaking in a bored monotone. “And before you ask, yes. I have 2 children as well. 5 and 3, both girls.”
“Craig, you can’t be serious!” Harvey proclaimed. “Wait, you’re always serious. Good lord, Craig! Why on earth did you get married so early? How old is your wife? Does she think you’re working in the film business? When did you even-”
The ‘ding’ of the cursed elevator briefly drowned out the barrage of the usual follow-up questions, followed by the strained opening of the doors to reveal a luxurious-looking lobby. Movie posters plastered the walls, and dozens of star-shaped skylights cast a night-sky like pattern on the black wall-to-wall carpet below. Dr. Munn walked out of the elevator briskly before turning back to Henry to deliver the final step, the one that always shut them up for a good long while.
“My wife is older than I am.” he said matter-of-factly, his lips tightening whenever he wasn’t speaking. “My mother was terminally ill, and she wanted to see me married before she died. Happy?” He gave a forced, ironic grin.
Harvey stood still, facing Dr. Munn with a look composed of shock and pity. “My God, Craig…When do you find the time to be happy?” The doors closing cut off anything else he wanted to say, as the elevator rattled its way back down to Sector 8.
Dr. Munn huffed, straightened his collar, and walked out of the double glass doors that led out to the just-humid-enough-to-be-uncomfortable summer evening. He strode across the parking lot to reach his car, seeing the billboard sign ahead of him. “StarCatcher Productions: Capturing the Talent of the Cosmos since 1995”. Outside of the basement floors, he was no longer Dr. Munn, Level 3 clearance Containment Protocol Analyst, but Dr. Munn, Vice President of Human Resources. It was another fib on the long list of lies he fed to his family morning, noon, and night. Right up there with the all-time classics like ‘Of course I can make Kiera’s recital’, ‘Oh, this? There was a shipping accident in the warehouse today’, and ‘I love you’.
He opened the door to his battered 1970 Chevy Camaro, which he had restored years earlier but was now slowly returning to its rightful place in history. Sharon was always yelling at him about it taking up so much room in the garage, but he had grown used to tuning her out.
He sat in the driver’s seat, stuck his key in the ignition, and looked at Sector 8’s front one last time. Below that building were floors and floors of unspeakable horrors, physics-defying consumer products, and the distinct air of a lack of humanity. Waiting for him at home was a family for whom he felt an unsettling mix of apathy and antipathy that mixed together to create a dull ache of loneliness.
Dr. Munn sat, a man of true neutrality, in his car, the bridge between the two worlds he moved between without care. He didn’t think in terms of happiness. He thought of his obligation.
He turned the key, and sped away under the slowly fading sky.