Untitled
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(needs more visual descrip, possibly trim the interrogation)
A fit bearded man, hair tied neatly back, strode purposefully into a café, nodding to the owner. Clapping his hand on a redheaded woman's shoulder, he sat down across the table from her. "Well, what's the craic? Thought our lad Paddy kicked all you fuckers out a few hundred years ago."

She glared but with laughter in her eyes. "Yeah, well, we have our Ways, you Jailor bastard. Besides, he was a vanguard for Catholic colonialism. And not even the first."

He accepted a cup from the café owner and nodded thankfully at the man before turning back to his friend. "Aye, that's what I'm here to talk to you about."

She smiled sarcastically and raised her eyebrows in faux-interest, as he reached for something in his jacket pocket. "Catholic colonialism?"

He rolled his eyes and overdramatically pulled his free hand down across his face, pulling gently at his beard. "No, you goon. I need a Way."

He pulled a flask from his pocket and started to unscrew it as she faked sadness. "And here I thought you were meeting an old army buddy for a cup of coff- did you just put rum in your coffee?"

There was genuine shock in her eyes for a fleeting second. He looked up, closing the flask again. "It's white hot chocolate. You know I hate coffee."

She looked at him hard. "Who puts rum in white hot chocolate?"

He kept his face carefully neutral. "Me. It's not a lot."

She sighed and looked sad again. He knew she wasn't joking this time and he looked away. He hoped he wasn't blushing. He moved the conversation along.

"I need a Way. Alt universe stuff. Shouldn't fuck up anything you're working on."

She put on a haughty face. "Oh, and why should I, an upstanding member of the magical community, help one who would lock us in cells for the admittedly indefensible crime of being different?"

He laughed a little, trying to cover his embarassment. "Same as always, you wee snake. Because I'm not locking you up, and because it's fucking important."

She asked her usual question, knowing the answer. "Have your bosses started to turn their heads to the idea that normal may not be quite what they think?"

He gave his typical response. "As if any boss ever had their head anywhere but their arse. But we can work together." Sipping at his hot chocolate, he continued. "I need a Way. I believe I have the necessary will. Are you going to facilitate it or not?"

She looked suddenly mischievous. "I suppose I must, for the sake of cooperation and brotherhood between the mundane and magical communities. But it shall surely be a great task, a-"

He interrupted, offering a (need details) folder. "Here are the details. What's your price?"

She took the folder and looked inside, growing intensely thoughtful as she read. "Mmm. This could take a while. I'll gather the materials, and you'll have to pay me then. I hope this is worth it. I'm going to have to stop working on some stuff for this."

He nodded. "It will definitely be worth it, and you'll be paid."

She looked up at him again, searching his face - and a little more than just that. "You're more interested in this one than usual. Less detached. But you're trying to be?"

He let his neutral face drop, showing his exhaustion and worry. "I don't mean to hide anything from you that I'm allowed to tell you. I have a personal stake in this one. I suppose to some extent, that means you do as well, if you want to."

She smiled a little, almost sadly. "You know I do. And you know honesty was never a problem between us."

He matched her smile. "Aye. More the opposite, in fact." He grew a little more serious. "Listen, we'll need someone to come through and make sure we can get back through the Way again. Will that be you?"

She brightened up and so did he. "Sure. I'll have to put my work on hold for the duration, but it's nice to get out of your own universe every now and again."

"What are you working on these days anyway?" he asked, waving at the owner for another drink.

"Oh, y'know. Cosmetics. Glamours for the bescarred. And, uh, addiction, medicine things." she trailed off, realising what she had brought up.

"…I'm cutting back, y'know. It's not as bad as it was. Only the odd shot every now and then. Not that I'm not grateful." He tried to cut through the awkwardness.

"Tell me this much… What about today?" She looked intense and worried again.

He sighed."I'd say seeing you was a special occasion, but this operation has me stressed. There are implications." She smiled at him but went right back to worrying.

"Best have it done quick so. I'll need two days. Then we can go through." They both nodded, and idly chatted some more as they finished their drinks, before leaving to go over their mission documents again.


Mission Barthes Overview

Enter timeline R-zayin-H-517/6, confirm entry thereof, contain potential cross-universal-influence type anomalous humanoid as designated by Project Turtledove.

Threat level low. Designated target not thought to be combat capable, apparently does not posess significant information on Foundation activities.

Project Turtledove lead will then observe any cross-timeline effects before assigning new missions as necessary.

Target timeline and humanoid details attached.


A blond businessman spoke into his phone on a busy street. "Bravo-One moving on target now. Charlie, can you run the lights?" Dropping the phone into his pocket, he cut through the crowd, walking up behind an overweight, bearded, long-haired civilian, who was waiting to cross the road.

An aging boy racer car with the flagrantly illegal license plate "DIKFUK69" skimmed onto the pavement, scaring several people before driving away. Bravo-One pulled the already backpedaling civilian back further, discreetly contact-tasing him and lowering him gently. The car was already gone by the time anyone realised the civilian was on the ground.

A couple of people looked shocked, but Bravo-One was already on his phone again. "I need an ambulance to the Marshes. No, the other side. Yeah. Yeah. I don't know, he just fell after he nearly got hit by a car. I'm a first aider, he'll be ok until you get here." The concerns of those few who had looked back were assuaged by this.

"Alpha acknowledges. We should make it in three."

Soon the civilian was strapped into the back of an ambulance. The agent in charge leant over him and grinned humourlessly.

"Nice work, lads. Get everyone back to the Hole. The Snake's waiting for us."


The agent stood back sloshed a bucket of cold water over the wooden chair, and the sleeping civilian tied into it. "Wake up, fuckhead."

"FUCK." The civilian nearly jumped out of his skin, knocking the chair over sideways and taking himself with it. "Fuck me. That was fucking sore. Who the fuck you are you?"

The agent stood the chair up again from behind, not bothering to see to the civilian's comfort. "Don't jump on the floor then, you absolute gobshite. You're tied to a chair, you shouldn't be even capable of jumping on the fucking floor. But, no." The agent sighed and began pacing, his shoes loud on the stone floor. "Fucking everything up again. You have no idea how much fucking trouble you're in here. Do you even know where you are?"

The civilian tried look around, insofar as any man could without moving his body at all. Stone floor. Shitty school-yellow walls. No visible windows. Shitty flourescent lighting.

"Last I recall, I was on my way to my doctor. Now I'm not there. Unless they've cut the staff budget again. Who the fuck are you, and what do you want?"

"I want to tell you a story."

"I've got a fucking email address, y'know."

"Ah, but you don't check it, you lazy prick."

"Facebook then. Regular post. Whatever. Tying me to a chair is a complete overreaction."

"Fuck facebook and fuck you. We're not friends. Did you think we were friends? Friends don't kidnap friends, tie them to chairs while they're asleep, then throw a bucket of water over them do they?"

The civilian sighed. "I've known some lads tha-"

"Do you ever shut the fuck up?"

"You keep asking me fucking questions and throwing water on me! What in the fuck do you expect?"

"Fuck you."

"Aren't you the very personification of eloquence?"

"Shut the fuck up, and listen to my story. I've had enough of yours."

"What? What in the name of fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"I said, shut the fuck up." The agent punctuated this line with a dispassionate slap to the civilian's back of the head. "You have no idea who I am. You have no idea who you are. I am going to fucking tell you."

The agent paced some more then began. "Once upon a time there was an awful gobshite. He wrote some fucking stories on the SCP wiki, and they all sucked - but some of them stuck around long enough for him to make an author page. I believe you should be with me so far?"

"Not sure how this is relevant to fucking anything, but, yes, I follow. I write shitty internet fiction sometimes. Get the fuck on with it."

"He made a joke character. Himself as an agent. Irish army to military intelligence, bar brawler, alcoholic." The agent stopped pacing and leaned down behind the civilian's head, talking directly into the civilian's ear as his head turned slightly, bracing for a punch. "Very… Fucking… Funny!"

The civilian barely jumped. "Is there a point to this?" he asked, "I'm getting fucking cold from the water you threw on my head, you prick."

The agent began pacing again. "Tell me. What would you do if your existence was just a joke? Your entire existence, nothing but to amuse some kind of cosmic absolute bastard?"

The civilian laughed wild and loud and long, the agent stopping halfway through his stride and staring in surprise. "Given the situation I'm in now, how in the fuck would I know any different, you absolute prick? You fucking wank…" The civilian's insults trailed into more hysterical, raucuous laughter, his shaking threatening to tip the chair again.

The agent seethed silently, watching the civilian's laughter turned to tears and sucking sobs and gasps for breath.

He growled and stepped forward to directly behind the chair again. "Do you think this is a fucking joke?"

The civilian calmed down long enough to say, "Isn't that what you just said it is? I don't know what the fuck you want with me. I don't know what the fuck the SCP wiki has to do with anything. Are you going to kill me or what?"

"What the SCP wiki has to do with anything is that it's real. You're in the SCP universe now. With the guy you created and gave these fucking problems." The agent finally walked in front of the civilian, leaning down and staring into his own face. "Why should I not kill you now?"


Mission Barthes Final Report

Despite the apparently successful operation, the civilian ████ "Tombstone" Tuomey from timeline R-zayin-H-517/6 appears to still be active. Investigation continues as to what happened, but we seem to be making very little progress. The prevailing hypothesis is that we simply did not reach the correct timeline - and, in fact, we may not be able to.

Agent Tuomey insists his SH contact is unimpeachable, and our instruments did not detect any anomalies beyond the Way she opened. Everything we had indicated that we reached the right timeline, and DNA testing proves beyond a doubt that we grabbed the right civilian.

The implications are perhaps disturbing, but largely beyond the scope of this report. It seems that we have somehow failed in success. Operational security was not compromised and no injuries were sustained.
However, I am recommending psychological evaluation of Agent Tuomey due to personal involvement.

- Regional Field Director Smyth


A fit, bearded man, hair loosely tied back, stumbled into the café, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his face as he nearly bumbled into a waitress. He sat heavily in a chair across from a redheaded woman, who sighed as he slumped onto the table.

"Looks like you need to get some sleep, Jailor," she said, staring at him.

"People don't come to cafés because they want to sleep, Snake," the man responded, leaning back, hands clasped on the table, as the same waitress left a white hot chocolate in front of him. "Quite the opposite, generally," he continued, meeting her eyes for the first time.

She smiled a little, and put her hand on his arm.

"Seriously, let yourself rest, it's been a month," she said, moving her hand on top of his.

"Aye, well, resting's the problem," he said, gently taking hold of her hand. "I stop distracting myself, and I start thinking. And y'know I can't take the fecking memory drugs."

Her eyes widened. "They offered?"

"Well, the shrink recommended it before I directed him to read my medical history properly." He sipped his drink one handed. "It's no help when they don't care to know what they're doing. I doubt the drugs would help anyway."

"You never know," she said, as one did in these situations.

He shook his head. "Apparently I may just be predisposed to this sort of mood. Your man - me - the other me… he was not exactly a happy man."

"Well. If this is just you. I think you're doing pretty well, generally speaking,"

"Snake, I killed an innocent version of me just because I thought he caused my life."

"Oh."

"Aye."

She grimaced. "Well, that was, perhaps, less than healthy," he laughed gently and bitterly and she glared at him before continuing. "But in general you've held it together pretty well over the years. Army, G2, Foundation, and all of the implied bullshit haven't broken you." She took both his hands now, and leaned forward to look directly into his eyes. "Don't let this."

He began to smile, but looked away. "What do I have if I can't trust myself?"

She squeezed his hands. "You have me. And you know they should never have put you on that operation. It would've fucked with anyone's head."

"Perhaps."

"No fecking perhaps about it. You're off duty for a while right? Recuperative or whatever?" He nodded, still looking away. "Look at me. Up here, you fuck."

He looked up and she spoke as intensely as he'd ever heard her. "We're going to take a holiday. And you might not feel better anytime soon. And you might have recurrences. But you'll always be worh it."

He smiled properly, for the first time in a month. "Promise?" he asked.

She gently whapped his forearm. "If you're worth the Jailors, you're worth anything, you gobsheen. Finish your drink, we've got Ways to go."


Elsewhere, a tearful girl with brown hair down to her waist, stuck another poster to a pole. His family were no help, but she would do this every day. Soon it was every week, then every month. Eventually she gave up, as he had surely given up on her if he were still alive. She would still raise a glass in his name, once in a while.

In a chat room, people told each other it was the last day for someone to return, or his name would deregister, and he'd have to be promoted again. Their chat bot took messages for him, and didn't deliver a single one. The community carried on, mentioning him only as another member who came and helped and disappeared. Perhaps two were moved to tears but most moved on; communities are bigger than any one man.

An unpaid landlord contacted a mother, who was at first annoyed and then afraid, and then angry and sad. She went and spoke to the police, who promised to do all they could. She stayed angry and sad and they did nothing, because there was nothing to be done.




rating: 0+x

~ ##701|Item #: SCP-X

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-X is to be stored in a secure containment locker. Any individual coming into contact with SCP-X-1 during testing must first undergo a medical assessment.

Description: SCP-X-1 is a longsword, composed of an unremarkable steel alloy, with a gold-effect hilt and a green jewel set in the crossguard. SCP-X-2 is a small paperback book with the title "Sword Manual" containing instructions and drills for several kinds of swordsmanship.

SCP-X-1's anomalous properties manifest when a person holds it pointing upwards. The jewel set in SCP-X-1's hilt will begin to glow. SCP-X-1 will emit a mild electric shock if the person holding it does not quickly enter a "guard" or "ready" position, or begin to follow a practice drill as set out in SCP-X-2. SCP-X-1 will also emit an electric shock if the person using SCP-X-1 performs a drill poorly. How SCP-X-1 accomplishes this is unclear.

SCP-X-2 appears to hold no anomalous properties of its own, except that the practice drills contained therein interact with SCP-X-1.

SCP-X was recovered from [REDACTED], who bought it from a person of interest in the Wanderer's Library with the understanding that it would make him a better swordsman. In exchange for giving up all information regarding POI-X-1, [REDACTED] has been allowed to remain outside Foundation custody as a monitored informant.

Interviewed: [REDACTED], former owner of SCP-X.

Interviewer: Agent Silverberg.

Foreword: Field interview of former owner of SCP-X. [REDACTED] was recovered following an expedition through a Way in which they were rescued by Foundation forces after being ambushed by [DATA EXPUNGED] and mistaken for an SCP-level anomaly. Field test revealed no inherent anomalous abilities.

<Begin Log>

Agent Silverberg: Okay, [REDACTED], we have taken custody of the sword and book. If you co-operate and tell me everything you know about them, maybe we can work something out here. My superiors will be here soon and I can talk with them on your behalf.

[REDACTED]: Right. Look. Listen. I just wanted to be able to defend myself. You know, in the Library? I'm not, like, a wizard or whatever like most of the guys in there. And the Librarians are only so fast.

Agent Silverberg: Sure, I understand. But why were you using a sword?

[REDACTED]: I had a pistol as well, but some of these guys tell me guns don't work against everything. So I commissioned this magic sword.

Agent Silverberg: Makes sense, I guess. Why does it glow? Does that do anything?

[REDACTED]: I just thought people would see this big fuck-off magic-looking badass ostentatious sword and leave me alone. And it was supposed to make me better at fighting.

Agent Silverberg: Like you'd pick it up and just be better, right?

[REDACTED]: That's it exactly. I just. I wanted to be left alone and read some weird books. And I guess there was a, uh, miscommunication. About the sword.

Agent Silverberg: What kind of miscommunication?

[REDACTED]: It doesn't, just, like, magically make someone better at fighting. Well. It does. But not like you just pick it up and be better. It trains you. And if you screw up, it shocks you or hurts you.

Agent Silverberg: I can't imagine you were very happy with this.

[REDACTED]: Listen. I was absolutely not. I barely even use it because the fucking thing kept electrocuting me. I paid for this sword to be great. I paid for it to be magic. I received a- a- a legendary piece of shit! If there was a better business bureau for magical item selling assholes I'd ram a complaint so far u-

Agent Silverburg: *Interrupting* Okay! Okay. I think I get the idea. Magic item guy is a jerk. Do you need a minute?

[REDACTED]: *Sighing and heavy breathing for approximately thirty seconds.* I'm calm. I'm calm. I just hate this guy and his fucking sword. Or her sword. Whatever. Anyway! So I was going to get a refund. But then the guy wasn't there. The whole space was gone from that part of the Library.

Agent Silverberg: So you were there for a refund when we found you. Noted. And they were gone? Sounds you got scammed pretty good.

[REDACTED]: Yeah. Yeah, that's what I thought. So I went through the nearest Way. No idea where it's going. And, long story short, I got attacked by weird monsters, passed out in front of your guys because the sword wouldn't stop shocking me.

Agent Silverberg: Why was it shocking you if you were using it to fight?

[REDACTED]: It just goes nuts if your form is off even a little. Piece of fucking shit. I can give you some more details. About this guy. And his shop. I was basically stuck with this fucking sword. And I couldn't do anything.

Agent Silverberg: Okay. I think we can work something out here, if those details check out. But you're going to have to agree to some things with my superiors. I'll note that you were very co-operative. I'm going to end the initial interview now.

[REDACTED]: Can I get it noted that magical item guy or lady is a complete and utt-

<End Log>

Closing Statement: [REDACTED] retained as Foundation informant, monitored regularly by assigned agents. The sword maker is still unknown, and it is unknown whether the seller made it or otherwise acquired it.


only notes past this point, no more story, stop reading



Completely unedited, non-linear stuff down here.

[[/tab]]
[[tab Memepunk]]
Memepunk memepunk memepunk
16:36 Vince that… that sounds like either the best or worst thing

16:38 Scantron really though, a punk-type world where police states and megacorps maintain order through the control of memes would be interesting

[[/tab]]
[[tab Bidding War]]
The effects of front companies on their shadow organisations

[[/tab]]
[[tab Magic]]
Several Foundation staffers argue about a word

"You've been here how long and you still call it magic?" a female doctor snorted derisively, interrupting.

"I've been here 15 years and I'll call it what I will. What would you call something that appears to ignore any and-slash-or all rules of science?" the forty something male replied.

"I'd call it a containment team because I'm not touching that shit," an agent chimed in.

"Hurr hurr. Seriously though, what else do you call it?"

"Isn't calling it magic a tacit acceptance that we'll never understand it?"

"I don't see how; it's just a word that easily describes all the weird stuff without having to yell about various types of "
[[/tab]]
[[tab On Reality Benders]]
First of all, what is a reality bender? A "reality bender" is an anomalous humanoid with the ability to bring about some form of Change in the world.

There is a reason that the Foundation does not have a definitive guide to categorise or for dealing with reality benders and it is simple. Reality benders can just ignore all the rules, and so it is impossible to creative a truly definitive guide.
However, there are several attributes which, when considered correctly, make it possible to gain a better understanding of a particular reality bender, in most cases.

Control, Awareness, Strength, Reach.

None of these attributes are binary, and they do not always imply that a particular bender is more or less dangerous than any other.

It is currently believed that the vast majority of reality benders are unable to simply "think themselves stronger" - they really can create a block so heavy that they cannot lift it themselves.

A reality bender who is fully in Control of their abilities will be able to choose to do anything they are Aware they can do, up to the limits of their Strength and Reach.

Control and Awareness tend to go hand in hand, to a certain extent - a reality bender must be Aware of their abilities in order to Control them. However, not all Aware reality benders can be said to be in control of their abilities; many have to deal with things changing in their hands unexpectedly, and similar mishaps.

Reality benders tend to gain more Control as they continue to use their abilities. They generally gain Awareness by experimenting with their abilities - not just by using the same facets over and over.

Strength and Reach do not appear to change significantly past physical maturity.

Reach refers to both physical distance and how wide-ranging a reality bender's abilities are. - some can affect things within a certain distance of themselves (words go here)

Strength refers to both the amount of Change a reality bender can bring about at once, and how long-lasting this Change is.

"Amount of Change" is pretty simple - it's harder to do a lot than a little in pretty much every context, and reality bending is no different. The time a Change lasts can be a little more complicated; although reality may be malleable to some, it tends to snap back after a while. However, many Changes can be permanent - most notably, any victims of a reality bender will not return from the dead once the Change that killed them wears off. Any particular reality bender might change, say, the logo for a company for ten minutes, or forever. For certain reality benders, it is also possible to change the past, although this has yet to be observed as a truly controlled ability.

[[/tab]]

[[tab Stagnation]]
Story idea, titled Stagnation; lack of reverse engineered/useful skips is a recent thing, causing the Foundation to bleed money
(Also blood)

"The long and short of it is that we're not reverse engineering enough things anymore. At one point we were responsible for a significant number of the world's new inventions and industries. The rate of discovery has slowed significantly in recent years. We're going bankrupt."

"So we go bankrupt. Whatever. We're the Foundation, we're not a company. We can take what we need and sell what we don't."

"No. Not anymore. Doctor Firstguy is right. We're going bankrupt and we can't just dig ourselves out of this one by virtue of our size or our mission. We need resources. Read the documents in front of you. We need solutions."

what if 343 is the cause of the foundation not wanting to use more anomalous stuff and that's why he remains in containment

what's a god to a non-believer? A target

[[/tab]]
[[tab Doctor Bright and the Euclid Letters]]

Doctor Bright and the Euclid Letters part one

Item #: SCP-3503

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: Many instances of SCP-3503-1 are sent by messenger owls. Such instances are not to be tampered with, but a note must be made of each observed instance - making sure to mention species of owl if possible. Other instances will be sent through normal mail. Each one should be intercepted by Foundation sleeper agents then opened, copied, resealed and sent on as normal. By no means are any instances to be prevented from reaching the destination. (Refer to addendum 3503-1) The addressee of each instance of 3503-1 must be noted.

At this time it appears unfeasible to place each addressee under observation however, areas or towns with a large number of addressees should be noted as possible "hot" zones of activity for SCP-3503. Instances of SCP-3503-2 and -3 must never be interfered with, but all occurences must be noted.

Description: SCP-3503-1 is a letter, an invitation to "Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry", sent almost exclusively during the summer months. SCP-3503-1 are always apparently handwritten and enclosed in an envelope sealed with wax.

Each instance of SCP-3503-2 is the intended recipient of an instance of 3503-1. An instance of 3503-2 is always a child approaching his or her █th year of education, which usually occurs when said child is about to enter middle school. The instances of 3503-2 have a significantly higher than average chance of having been associated with an anomalous event - frequently several events, generally increasing in the two years preceding 3503-1's delivery.

3503-3 is always an adult, of either gender and varying age from approximately 30 years upward, frequently wearing unusual robe-like clothing. An instance of 3503-3 sometimes calls to a house after the delivery of a 3503-1 instance. All attempts to listen in to conversation while 3503-3 is present have failed so far. 3503-3 is never seen arriving in or leaving the general area of the visited house.

Addendum 3503-1: After several instances of 3503-1 were prevented from reaching their corresponding instances of 3503-2 it has become evident that many more will be delivered until the 3503-2 instance has read one. The frequency of deliveries will rise over time and can often become almost aggressive in the attempt to reach the 3503-2 instance, being deposited at great speed and volume into chimneys or windows, for example. This may even be caused by the parents or other family members of 3503-2 discarding the letter as a hoax or joke.

Addendum 3503-2:
It has been noted that an instance of 3503-3 appears to be significantly more likely to visit an instance of 3503-2 if the 3503-2 instance is in residence outside one of the hot zones of 3503-1 delivery. It is not yet known if this is due to surveillance difficulty in said hot zones or another reason.

The man in the grey suit finished examining the document in front of him one more time, then put it down slowly and pushed it away as if afraid it might explode. The other people in the room looked at him as he sighed and steepled his fingers.
"Who was the containment expert on this?" he said, his tone even but clearly under strain.

Everyone looked at a man in a labcoat who tried to shrink back into his seat. "That would be me, sir." he said, with clear reluctance.

"What's your plan?" The grey-suited man stared labcoat down.

"W- Well, it's, uh, pretty much outlined in that report there, sir." Labcoat stammered, melting in the stare. Seemingly feeling that this was insufficient he just added "The one you just read, sir. There's not a lot else we can do."

A man in combat gear smiled as labcoat squirmed, before the expression fled as grey-suit turned on him with "What do you recommend, Captain?"

The captain swore inwardly and said, "Well, sir, this is basically uncontained." Grey-suit nodded and indicated with a hand gesture that the captain should continue. Wracking his brains, the captain continued, "We, uh, need to get someone into the school and get some more intel because, well, there seems to be a big thing going on here and we're just looking at the surface."

Labcoat spoke up again, babbling in eagerness to redeem himself, "Well, you better find some way of controlling an 11 year old kid who just so happens to be a wizard otherwise that's just not going to happen. I mean, we could get into the society, someone pretending to be a wizard with some of our objects, maybe, but not the school, that's just craz-"

"Doctor Bright," an agent in casual clothes interrupted.

"What?" said grey-suit and labcoat together.

The agent sighed. "He can take control of anyone with that fu- uh, that amulet thing. Cleaner than being a monkey all the time. We need him to get in there."

Grey-suit nodded. "I'll make a report to the O5s; get a plan together captain - and two more containment specialists because that guy's an idiot and this one's a biggie."


Bright jumped at the sound of his phone, scrambled to the bottom of his bed and dug in the pile of empty bottles until his monkey hands touched plastic.

"Yes, I heard about the letters. … No, I didn't realise it was so… " he sighed and rummaged through his pile of belongings, rubbing his head with his free hand. "You want me to do what? …yeah, straight from the top, it always is…" He couldn't take human painkillers in this body and he really wanted some right now.

"…Right." he sighed again and tossed a jacket aside, picking up his wallet. "Twenty minutes, I'll be there… I SAID I'D BE THERE, GODDAMMIT, HANGOVERS ARE WORSE WHEN YOU'RE A MONKEY, OK?" He ended the call, put on his labcoat and dropped the wallet in a pocket, before staggering out the door, labcoat trailing on the floor behind him.

Bright went through a few hours of briefing and learning all that was known about the world of SCP-3503. Soon enough he was ready to find a subject and go in. An instance of 3503-1 had been delivered to an orphanage two weeks ago. The relevant 3503-2 had been taken somewhere for a few hours by some guy in an odd suit who seemed to lose his tailing agents all too quickly a week later but was home now. Given that he was orphaned with no extended family on record, he was the perfect candidate.

The takedown itself was pretty easy. Bright took a D-class' body, he and an agent pretended to be social workers and dropped the amulet right on the kid's head in the middle of a "standard random interview, part of a new anti-abuse scheme." Some more agents, dressed as EMTs, took care of the braindead D-class body while Bright ran right back to the kid's bed.

One night wasn't so bad. He avoided the other kids and the workers and they put it down to usual worry at the prospect of a new school. That night Bright took an inventory of the kid's gear; wand, broomstick, spellbooks, all sorts of magical crap. As it turned out, no one running the orphanage knew any details about the school and the kid had been relatively independent so he'd be able to take his trip to the school alone. He was beginning to look forward to this.


The next day Bright ran along to the train station, trying to hold his entire new identity in his head and sixty pounds of crap in his arms. John Baker, eleven years old, outspoken, intelligent, orphaned… and a wizard. Bright loved that one. He kept walking as he meditated on this, aware that he would soon be able to use magic whenever he wanted. Let's see how 682 likes this one he thought, imagining the lizard suspended by an ankle.

Soon enough he arrived at the train station, and was standing on a platform. Luckily John had been an almost anal-retentive boy who kept notes on a lot of things. Bright pulled out the notebook and turned to the instructions on how to get to Hogwarts. "Run straight into a wall." fantastic fucking idea He thought, but he did so anyway and emerged in what was apparently a completely different station.

He noted the sign saying "9, 3/4," took in all the people in robes and watched as minor spells discharged sparks amongst low flying messenger owls and one rogue broomstick taking off on its own.
"Weirdest train station I've ever seen and that includes that time in Korea with that RB." he said under his breath before boarding the train.

Bright stalked down the corridoor, annoyed at the speed and lifting power an 11 year old's body gave him. He poked his head into a compartment. "OI GINGER!" he shouted. The young boy inside jumped "Can I sit here?"

"Yeah, sure…" the boy replied. "Want a chocolate frog? I'm Ron Weasley."

"Sure, never had one of these before," Bright replied, before adding "John Baker."

"Muggle born then?" Bright nodded. "You seem really …unsurprised …for a muggle born" he continued as Bright munched on the frog, eating its limbs first, saving its head for last, watching its expression change slowly in horror and pain.

"You seem really annoying for a ten year old" Bright replied.

"Oi, I'm eleven, and you can't be much older if you're going to Hogwarts!"

"Fuck you, I'm a wizard." Those words were beginning to taste sweet in Bright's mouth.

Another boy walked in and said, "I'm a wizard too, a giant came to my aunt's house and told me about it!"

"Jesus christ you shits are annoying, ginger ninja and the whiny scarface," sighed Bright. The new boy introduced himself as Harry Potter and sat down, pointedly ignoring Bright. Ron offered some chocolate frogs to Harry, who took one in wonder. Bright fell asleep to the sound of the two boys' conversation about school houses.

Bright awoke to hear Ron asking Harry, "Can you do any magic? I know a spell to turn my rat yellow…" Yeah, I'll turn you into something less annoying Bright thought.

A girl walked in, "Hi, I'm Hermione Granger and a boy called Neville Longb- Oh are you doing magic?"

"What is this, march of the retards!?" Bright said.

"Well, let's see then!" Hermione encouraged, shooting Bright a dirty look.

Ron shook his wand and said uncertainly, "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow." Hermione looked alarmed as Ron's wand backfired and the rat ran away. Bright laughed uproariously while Harry merely seemed confused.

"I don't think that's a real spell." Hermione said, before wandering away, "Oh and you guys should probably change into robes, we'll be at the castle soon."
[[/tab]]
[[tab butts]]

WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT MY BUTTS

WHAT ARE YOU, SOME KIND OF PERVERT

prank thing what makes you accept horrible shit as pranks or jokes

Lombardianism becoming the dominant religion in a dimensionally shifted site

What if the O5s were dragons that hoarded SCPs instead of gold

Blanket what physically sucks out stress, can be squeezed into a thing

Randomini Tuomey: add something in about not being able to even look at kids without being accused of being a pedophile

00:46 MechaTroy People from the "present" went back and spread "color" through the black and white world of Pleasantville, which was freedom of expression and the undermining of that societies ideals.
00:46 MechaTroy Now, imagine MRA land.
00:46 MechaTroy And a woman (with a vagina! How DARE she?!) shows up who has all these forward thinking ideas.
00:47 MechaTroy Also, rivers of Mountain Dew, etc., etc.
00:47 Tuomey Yeah, that could work
00:47 MechaTroy I really just want to see "Rivers of Mountain Dew" in an SCP article.

drown you with teeth

AWCY member gets into artistic argument with rest of group about his literal lead zeppelin, bombs them from zeppelin while playing the Immigrant Song

metonymy: noun: The use of a single characteristic or name of an object to identify an entire object or related object.
The foundation perceives all anomalous objects as a threat

Skip what turned themself in because they started to lose control of their power
Former SH or maybe just a wanderer
Definitely formerly pro-skip-rights, for lack of a better term
Mildly angry but resigned, controlled, calm

What if character development was like software development
Bsc in character development
Character development engineer
Character reliability engineering
Character testing
improve character UI
cross-platform character support
character for web 2.0
waterfall character development
agile character development
open source character development
freelance character development
character development character developmentcharacter developmentcharacter developmentcharacter developmentcharacter developmentcharacter development
character
development

Amalgamy: marriage where people literally become a single entity

Probability/statistics abuse machine; if used with the statistic that one in three north American subway stops are in NYC, you have a one in three chance of actually getting off in NYC even if you got on in LA.

Death of an imaginary friend

A robot that wishes to live so that it might die.
Created to serve as a slave, true AI, however it believes its creators' belief that it has no soul
Wants to live, to be ensoulled, so that it can die a true death

the tale of how tuomey went snowboarding with a bunch of skeletons and had pizza at the end

Alt universe foundation guys being really weirded out by haircuts

Dogepile him, drop shiba inus out of a roflcopter

01:14 Tuomey thedeadlymoose: actually
01:15 Roth chirps at thedeadlymoose
01:15 Tuomey handing minor anomalous dudes over to the UIU is probably what happens a lot
01:15 Tuomey > SCPF catches a guy
01:15 Tuomey > it's just some dickhead with a staff, we've got like twenty of these
01:15 Tuomey > send him to the feds

Tastes like a false declaration of love you're obliged to give at a family event.

Something that shows you where it all went wrong
But it lies

Mermaids that eat hair
Maybe it has to come be bitten from the person's head - not cut off first.

Internet trolls being used as D-class

SCP website is recovered information by a rival GOI - Tale from POV of said GOI's agent in SCPF attempting to communicate

a "Life Stats" SCP but it only records things like "Missed opportunities" and "possible true loves lost"

anomalous smilies

what if something ate tumors
what if eating tumors was addictive
I am terrible this is terrible

"No one likes being shat on by a helicopter; smells of machine oil"

Anomalous kid who tries to be a superhero but the Foundation has to contain him because anomalous
Aim for feels
I still need to think of an anomaly/power for this fucker
I could just give it a straight out superpower
And the Foundation lies to the kid to keep the fucker cooperative
"If we learn how this works there can be more heroes and they'll save more people"
Really the power just doesn't seem to have reached maturity yet
Foundation might not be able to deal with him if he were older and not fully committed to them.

23:17 Rhett "In the event that SCP-X attempts escape, lethal weapons are to be used to contain it only as a last resort." or, better way to say it "non-lethal measures should be employed first in re-establishing containment"

23:18 Rhett you want to say what they should do. what they SHOULDNT do is either implied or should be a side/foot note

23:21 Rhett "who has a minor telekinetic ability" get it? BECAUSE HE'S A MINOR! but no. rephrase that. "low level telekinetic abilities" would work, but still doesnt feel quite right, see if you can think of something that would sound better

23:23 Rhett "SCP-X was discovered after attempting to use his telekinesis to save a woman's life (see attached interview) following reports of some unusual incidents in the area."
23:23 Rhett this doesnt belong in the description, that's history. i'd put it right before said interview
23:24 Rhett "SCP-X's telekinesis is currently not well understood." this line is useless, remove it

23:27 Rhett so is this a serious concept for an article on the main list?
23:27 Rhett not a sarcastic question
23:28 Tuomey Yes
23:29 Rhett ok
23:29 Rhett i dont mind the idea of the foundation managing to contain a reality bender at a young age. i'm not sure that how you're having them handle it is very indicative of the foundation's style, but that's obviously up for interpretation. what i can say is that there's nothing that really makes this article interesting in and of itself. it's a reality bender.
23:29 Rhett about the most basic reality bender you could get
23:29 Tuomey Right
23:29 Rhett this lacks anything to grip one emotionally other than the normal sympathy one might have for a child
23:30 Rhett so that problem stated, i will confess i'm not sure how to solve it. you dont want to twist this to somehow be disturbing/horrifying, that's not the point of the article
23:30 Rhett but if you swing it too far in the "training a kid to be a superhero" direction, then it becomes mary-sueish
23:31 Tuomey My idea is not that they're training the kid to be a superhero, but that's what they're telling him in order to gain a better understanding of how RBs actually work
23:31 Rhett yeah
23:31 Rhett i gathered that.
23:31 Photosynthetic Hi guys. Hi Moose.
23:31 Tuomey Since they don't really have many co-operative RBs
23:32 Tuomey And pretty much none that are safe to study the development of
23:32 Rhett experiment logs might help with this.
23:32 Tuomey safe/viable candidates
23:32 Rhett i think it might work to make it about internal conflict within the foundation as to how to utilize this asset
23:33 Tuomey That's a pretty good idea
23:33 Rhett with some pushing for more extreme tests, some wanting to twist it for their own ends, others looking out for the wellbeing of the child
23:33 Tuomey I'm putting that in bold in my critique log
23:33 Rhett etc
23:33 Rhett ok
23:34 Rhett hope that helps, tuomey
23:34 Rhett gets back to work
23:34 Tuomey It certainly does, thanks man

00:47 Fantem As SCP-X's co-operation is considered essential to long term containment, personnel are to call SCP-X by its given name, "Cameron", when speaking to or nearby it.
00:49 Fantem I don't mind personnel calling an SCP by their name if they haven't done anything wrong, but this shouldn't be in the containment procedures in my opinion. It's too small a thing. I'd put it in the forward during the interview.

00:56 Fantem I'm just gettin' to the interview; though I'm finding some things feel rather iffy in the description.

00:58 Fantem Currently, the leading theory among Foundation researchers… to long-term containment that SCP-X believes he is working with the Foundation.

00:59 Fantem that paragraph sounds more worthy of its own addendum, as it's not describing the SCP itself.

01:00 Fantem As well as "SCP-X was discovered after attempting to use his telekinesis to save a woman's life (see attached interview) following reports of some unusual incidents in the area."
01:00 Fantem That should be put at the end of the description IMO

01:14 Fantem I just finished; I feel like I'm reading what an X-Man /should/ be. That interview's ending is very heartwarming; don't change it. However, I do have a few hang ups about the rest.

01:17 Fantem "Interviewer: Cameron, can you explain what was happening when the containment team found you?" I'd axe the "Cameron, can you explain", and say "Cameron, could you tell us". Less formal.
01:19 Fantem "SCP-X: I was trying to help that lady." to "SCP-X: Superheroes have to help people! I can move things without touching them and other people can't so I should use that to help them!" I'd just let the kid talk without interruption.
01:21 Fantem "SCP-X: She looked scared. That bad man had a gun." I'd toss out the word "bad". Maybe replace it with something like "big".
01:22 Fantem Minor thing, but it just sounds more natural.
01:22 Tuomey Probably a good idea, yeah

01:23 Fantem "Interviewer: Have you ever changed something on purpose?" to "SCP-X: Not really. Sometimes when I hear my parents yelling I wish they'd stop and they get distracted for a little bit but they usually go back to arguing."
01:24 Fantem That seems a little… much to kinda gloss over. Also kinda sudden.

Fantem This article seems to rely heavily on story elements in the interview, especially towards the end. My suggestion is to have Cameron either explain his life at home, or the experience with the guy with the gun more in-depth. Both would be things the Foundation would be interested in and both would add some much needed character development towards the end.
Fantem (I'd go tragedy by the way; those last lines have serious tear-jerker potential)

02:52 Palaios Its very X-men-y. and while the idea of a undeveloped reality bender could be interesting that angle is not developed as much as I'd like to see

02:50 ingrate Tuomey your scp is cute

Palaios I'd cut this bit "understand his powers and use them to develop more "superheroes""
Tuomey Palaios: even though that's just what they're telling him?
Palaios And spend less time focusing on the interview and more on the foundations interest in him
Palaios If it is part of what is keeping him in containment I'd suggest it go in the containment procedures

Palaios I might also be a bit more willing to authorize force, we thing that it might become a reality bender, reality benders are scary and hard to contain

TV Station but like a train station or bus station

VR headset gamification device which has an overarching questline trying to get people to make more of it

[[/tab]]
[[tab Stupid J idea]]

Item #: SCP-XXXX-J

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: All instances of SCP-3007-J are to be kept in padded humanoid containment units in Site 56, which must be outfitted with anti-smother pillows and cushions. These cells are to be kept free of sharp edges, potted plants, reading material intended for people over the age of four, Lego, play-dough, anything that could be mistaken for food by someone who'd just been smacked upside the head with a sledgehammer a couple of times or basically anything else small enough to fit in someone's mouth.
No instances of SCP-3007-J are to be allowed outside without a helmet and elbow/knee pads. Even then we're doing well if they only manage a minor concussion every half an hour.
No one is to mention ghosts, monsters under the bed, bogeymen, zombies, Barney the Dinosaur, maths problems or anything else a child might consider scary in front of any instance of SCP-3007-J. If one of these things is mentioned initiate procedure Chill Pill1 immediately.
Should 3007-J become bored procedure Idiot Box2 is to be initiated.

Description: SCP-3007-J came to foundation attention when a primary school teacher strapped herself to a homemade rocket and achieved low earth orbit. Prior to lift off, she was heard to remark "I just can't fucking take it anymore, seriously, fuck class ██." SCP-3007-J is a bunch of really dumb kids, I swear to fuck these kids are so dumb we left one on a bouncy castle and when we came back he'd cut his fucking face open. There are twenty-eight of these shitheads and they're all dumb as fuck. Six instances of SCP-3007-J were given those goddamn puzzles where you put the shaped bricks through the appropriate hole for testing and four of them almost fucking choked and died. The other two threw the bricks down and declared it "too hard" and "boring" respectively.
During testing, four instances of SCP-3007-J (two male, two female) were given a ████ video games console and a copy of [some crappy kids game]. The observing researcher was distracted briefly by his assistant entering the room and upon looking back he saw that three of the instances of SCP-3007-J were choking themselves on their games console controllers despite the controllers being wireless.
[[/tab]]
[[tab LEVEL UP YOUR GHOST]]
14:36 Tuomey I just had one of the best stupid ideas I've had in a while
14:36 Tuomey What if there was a skip that was a product designed to level up your ghost
14:36 Riemann Is it the ghosts of Jalapenos
14:37 Riemann Actually, that could be pretty funny
14:37 Tuomey And it actually works
14:37 Eskobear wait, what
14:37 Riemann And everyone in the afterlife becomes WoW level obsessed with levelling up
14:37 Tuomey And the Foundation has to deal with powerleveled ghosts trying to kick the shit out of peopel
14:37 Eskobear "level up your ghost"
14:38 Riemann And there's a Revenant or something who's reached the level cap
14:38 Tuomey Eskobear: everyone's going to die eventually
14:38 Riemann And he's really pissed
14:38 Tuomey Genericorp Industries can't prevent this
14:38 Silber joined #site67
14:38 ChanServ has given op to Silber
14:38 Tuomey But we can help you level up your ghost
14:38 Tuomey Gain the ability to interact with solid objects again
14:38 Tuomey Cause terrifying hallucinations in humans
14:39 Tuomey Appear to those who no one will believe
14:39 Tuomey All this and more, for a small fee each month from now until the day you die
14:39 Tuomey Genericorp: Making your afterlife awesome!
[[/tab]]
[[/tabview]]

possible new formatting

Stage Symptoms Length Other notes Mortality Rate Treatability
1
  • Headache or migraine
  • dizziness
  • balance problems
  • short-term memory loss
  • blurry vision or temporary vision loss
7-10 days SCP-X infection takes hold in brain and optic nerve. near 0% Treatable with specialised medication
2 Total vision loss, loss or dramatic change of eye colour, often a near total relief of other symptoms, bulging eyes 3-5 days Infection gains a measure of symbiosis with its host, growths appear on optic discs, pushing eyes forward slightly. Serious infection risk from tears, other fluids, and vapors thereof. 22% Large doses of specialised medication and invasive high-risk neurosurgery with irreversible side effects required for treatment
3 Sudden expulsion of eyes from skull marks start of stage, new eyes forming, eyes/sockets leaking dark pus-like fluid. New eyes are frequently expelled at irregular intervals from hours to days and regrown repeatedly. Permanent Eyes may "pop" on expulsion, posing significant infection risk to all nearby and requiring hazmat cleanup. New eyes take several hours to form. Patients typically report increased visual acuity and appear to be able to perceive more of the electromagnetic spectrum. Complications may result from flawed regrowth. 40% in first year, while under Foundation care. Infection too entrenched, untreatable without killing patient. Removal of new eyes results in further growth of new eyes.

"afflicted with the sight"


12:09 Tuomey Randomini: ok so
12:09 Tuomey law of averages implies that at some point a Foundation intelligence guy has discovered his wife is cheating on him through the course of his duties
12:11 Randomini Tuomey: so what does foundation intel guy do about it
12:11 Tuomey I dunno I only just realised this
12:12 Zhange Randomini: thanks so much for all this :D I'll do my best to put them to good use
12:12 Randomini Tuomey: I have your framing device
12:12 Tuomey he's still in shock because he only just started existing as a concept AND his wife is cheating on him
12:12 Tuomey it's a lot for a guy to go through all at once
12:12 Randomini Tuomey: he's a good guy and wants amnestics
12:12 Randomini he's talking it through with the amnestics vender
12:12 Randomini amnestics vendor says "hey maybe you should talk it out with her"
12:12 Randomini comes back the next day
12:12 Randomini "I'm going to need two doses now"
12:13 Tuomey christ
12:13 Tuomey …man, y'know, the guy in charge of dispensing amnestics probably has some interesting stories
12:13 Randomini I know right
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