Like Cats and Dogs (and Spiders) - SCP Foundation

Like Cats and Dogs (and Spiders)

Byㅤ Maxyfran73

Published on 18 Jun 2023 22:18

Like Cats and Dogs (and Spiders)

“Fuck!”

Your name is HEAD OF SECURITY, and you are not having a good day.

In truth, you haven’t had a good week, but this day was particularly awful. Your flight back to Japan had been cancelled for the third time now. You were angry; angry enough to get a migraine. You were mostly furious, however, because you knew why it was being cancelled, and it wasn’t because of the disarray this Site had been going through, but because the poor excuse you had as a Director hadn’t bothered to approve it. You had called him, mailed him, called his secretary, mailed his secretary; nothing. Site-50 was a black box.

Well, almost a black box.

Me

Any news, good or bad?

Hertz-on-Fire

Nothing after the big guy disappeared.

When r u coming back?

Me

No damn clue. Director isn’t answering my calls. Any idea where he is?

Hertz-on-Fire

Haven’t seen him since the veil fell.

Want me to see if I can get a word in?

Me

Please. If you see anyone important, tell them to get the director to answer my damn calls.

Hertz-on-Fire

Will do.

You sigh in relief, your anger partially subdued by the words of the first person you manage to get contact with: One technician and former NEET by the name of Edward Nguyen, nicknamed ‘Hertz’ because every hacker needs a hacker name, you guess? He was a great dude, and you’d gotten pretty friendly with him since his forced induction, albeit it was hard to get any meaningful conversation out of the guy at times. Still, he was the first person to contact you from the site, which helped you figure out which level of ‘how fucked are things over there’ you were at.

The good news is that things could be way worse. Bad news is that they were still pretty bad.

Turns out that, the moment the Veil fell — Oh yeah, had you mentioned the Veil had just fallen? The Veil, the fragile, most likely pataphysical concept of secrecy that separated that which was normal from that which was not, had cracked roughly a week ago (Coinciding with the horrible week you’ve been having), and the second it had vanished, all kinds of paranormal garbage had spilled out onto the unsuspecting onlookers. Now, this wasn’t something out of the ordinary: The dam of the Foundation wasn’t infallible, and sometimes some of the stuff they keep on one side spilled out onto the other, and vice versa. This time, the dam had burst, and millions of gallons of water had reached the villages on the other side.

For example, a massive ball of pathos had subsumed 99% of all eight million deities currently in Japan, and had been dealt with in some esoteric manner of which the only proof it had ever occurred being every clock in the perceivable universe having skipped roughly ten minutes forward. That was the kind of shit the Foundation paid more attention to, and yet here we were, with that whole incident over the news. The normal news.

This was the issue you wished you were over at Site-50 to deal with, because whenever you were getting back, you’d get back to ten metric tons of paperwork you’d have to be done with by yesterday, and just thinking about it made you wish you’d been absorbed by the mass of sadness instead.

For better or worse, you weren’t in Japan at the time, and were instead attending a security convention in the States, where things were, rather surprisingly, way more relaxed. Sure, there were the odd floating structures, or the odd ray of thaumic light splitting the sky, but overall, nothing earth shattering like what happened in Poland; no eschatological event like in Japan.

Now, instead of working on paperwork, or coordinating task forces, or doing anything vital to the continuing of the Foundation, you were walking past near empty hallways, rubbing shoulders against the occasional researcher that passed by, rushing towards a crisis that needed to be averted. Or perhaps towards another perfunctory talk about how things had changed forever, and everyone needed to do their parts, except their voices transmitted naught but disinterest. Not like anyone cared even then. The Site was operating with a skeleton crew for some reason, most personnel having taken a sabbatical, or moved sites, or having found some other excuse to not be here right now.

If anyone asked you, you’d tell them that you had the smallest of suspicions that this was all pre-planned, that the fall of the Veil was an inside job, that this was all some sort of smokescreen in order to cover up something bigger. Something scarier.

But no one would ask you, and you wouldn’t engage in conspiracy theories anyway. Didn’t seem right to you, sowing even more chaos. Also, you were passing by Psionics and maybe you shouldn’t even think about these things, unless you wanted some mind reader to think you’re a traitor or something and have your head explode like in that Scanners movie. You don’t know if that’s a thing — you aren’t from here, but that was kind of the point. The weird guy with the weird powers who had arrived the day before everything’d gone to shit was definitely suspicious. At least that’s how you’d see it from their perspective. But who knows. It’s not like you were this place’s Head of Security.

Another jolt, a hammer directly hitting your parietal lobes reminds you of the headache you have. You need painkillers… Or maybe you need something lighter to distract yourself with.

You see an old man, white hair, bespectacled, with a disorganized attire pass by, and you tap his shoulder, uttering a ‘sorry’ as you move away. A simple action — the one that allows you to copy the morphology of others — is the only thing keeping you entertained. Keeping you awake. You do this often, but never as often as this. Without anything in sight, you’re aimless, waiting for your Godot to arrive, in pilot’s clothes, and get you out of this terminal, and back into the war-ravaged country. Is that how the movie goes? Is that how the play goes too? The lack of ‘something to do’ is making you go loopy. The pain certainly ain’t helping.

Another scientist passes by, a woman with long, black hair. Bags under the eyes; something you were painfully familiar with. When was the last time you’d slept more than three, four hours at a time?

You pass by the woman, a quick tap on

the shoulder that

wha

"what the fuck was that."

猍

Your name is SAMARA MACLEAR, and you have the feeling your day is about to go awry.

Your life has been a tad hectic ever since the Veil fell, although unlike most of the world, and most of your higher ups, it has had more ups than downs. Celeste had contributed to this sentiment immensely. You weren’t one to take leaps of faith, but you were willing to admit that this was one of the best things to happen to you in a long while. There was a certain charm to being able to close your eyes after a long day of work, relax your body, and float towards the cosmos of your mind, connect to the right frequency, and see — ‘feel’, rather. — xer there; know that xe would be there.

It wasn’t escapism; far from it, but you had to admit you had grown more… Distracted, these passing days. Luna would have teased you about being lovestruck. No, that’s not right: She’s teased you about it already. How could she not? That’s the first, maybe second thing Luna would do.

Again, you wouldn’t admit your faults, especially not for something as trivial, but you were walking amidst clouds — Or a comparable simile while traversing the sterilized, bleak halls of the Site’s lower levels — when you suddenly bumped into someone.

It was a wide hallway, so you didn’t expect to get close enough to bump into another person. If you had the time, you would have turned around, and promptly apologized, only then noticing that the person you’d passed by looked ‘off’, but instead, you were on the front row, ready to experience what that ‘off’ feeling was about.

You weren’t a mind-reader — Contrary to popular belief, you couldn’t peek into other people’s heads. You could sort of get what someone’s ‘deal’ was about, more of a gut feeling rather than anything a telepathist could do, but you had hung out with enough telepathists to know what reaching into someone’s mind felt like, and this… This was pretty close to that.

First there was the prick. You’ve shocked yourself before, touching an unpeeled wire by happenstance, and feeling as though your nerves are overloaded, your muscles tense up. Your body locks in place.

It was less than a second, but whatever they had done to you, it had unwrapped you, layer by layer. For a split moment, you were not Samara right now; you were a telephone, a machine that had received a signal, and you couldn’t help but relaying it. Like an old radio, the touch had amplified the reach of your psionic powers, disrupting your mind, and passing straight through you. As it did so, you saw images of another life, another mind. It tasted like matcha, and smelled like… Like a plant you had no knowledge of.

A foreign thought had passed through you, splitting you like an atom, or like artillery fire, and had instead reached far into your mind, then past your mind, then

Hm? Hello?

then it reached xer.

The exchange lasted a split second, but it felt much, much longer. Much, much lonelier. You stumble forward, dizzy, as if struck by lightning. You try to gather your thoughts; you needed to make sure they were your own, before proceeding.

“What the fuck was that.”

You finally turn around, and find yourself staring at someone who looked just as disoriented as you were. Now that, you weren’t expecting.

“Who are you?” Finally, you find words that leave your mouth. The other person looks at you again, before shaking their head from side to side.

“No, no, that’s what I should be asking you.” They retort, planning to win the most childish game known to mankind. You didn’t feel like entertaining them.

“Samara Maclear. I work here. Like, right here.” You point towards the Psionics Team area, at the end of the hallway. “Now, I’ll ask again: Who are you?”

“Head of Security. Site-50.” They say, crossing their arms like that made any lick of sense. And yet it did, because as they had parted you like the seas, you had seen parts of their life too. Not anything concrete, just shapes and colors that told you they weren’t lying.

“Alright, Head of Security. Sure. Next question then: What the hell did you do to me?”

To that, they took offense. “What do you mean what I did to you, the hell’d you do to me?!”

You blinked; again, not what you were expecting. “What do you mean? You just-”

You were cut short. “Wa-wa-wait, that… That wasn’t you?”

“No? You didn’t try to read my mind?…”

“No? I can’t read minds. I’m no psychic. I’m just some guy.”

Awkward silence. If they weren’t the one who had tried to hijack her then… Then what the hell just happened?

“… So just to confirm, cuz you said you were from psionics, right?”

“Right.”

“Is that thing on your head normal?”

Uh. “What do you mean by ‘thing’?”

“The, uh, the spider.”

Oh god fucking dammit.

“R-right, the… The spider. The spider.” Despite standing in the middle of a hallway, you feel cornered, pushed against a wall. You had barely told anyone about Celeste. You weren’t prepared to talk about xer now, especially not to this weirdo.

“You know what I’m talking about, right? The…” The guy frowns. They were sure how to process their next words. “Celeste? No, that ain’t right… That sounds right, but it doesn’t…”

“Alright, that’s enough. Who are you, really?” You spout, not finding any sense in this, well, in this nonsense. You take a step forward, and they take two steps back. In your fugue, you’d forgotten to consider that the person in front of you also felt cornered. Felt like running. Looked like they were about to sprint, even.

“Look, I… I think I shouldn’t be here anyway, so, uhhh…”

“Oh no, you don’t.”

You grab their arm in an attempt to

Sammie?

“God dammit.”

“Ow, what the-”

To be fair, you really should have seen that coming. This time the shock was stronger; it was more than static, now this really felt like touching a live wire, something coursing through your brain, through your veins, through your nerves. You had been hijacked, like a cheap SUV. You didn’t like that. You didn’t like that one bit.

“Seriously, what the fuck is up with that…” The guy muttered, holding their head with a hand, clenching their teeth hard enough where you could hear them being ground from where you stood.

It is only then that you notice the animal ears protruding from the top of their head, and the raccoon-like tail sprouting from behind. Had that always been there? If so, how did you miss that?

“Ugh, my… Head?…” Head of Security muttered, moving their hand away from their head, only now noticing blood coming out of their nose. “Oh, that… That can’t be good.”

You were about to ask something else, something about if they were okay, about what the hell was up with the animal features, about ‘seriously, who the hell are you’, but instead, you felt something click within your head. This had nothing to do with the shocks before, nothing to do with the mind-space. Instead, it was nothing but the sound of a lightbulb turning on. About something you just remembered was another effect of this VEILBURST bullcrap.

“Have you been getting headaches lately?” You asked, most of your worries defusing as the situation finally turned away from pure clusterfuck, and towards your field of expertise.

“Uh… Y-yeah?…” Head of Security replied, pulling out a handkerchief to clean off the blood dripping from their nose. It didn’t seem like it’d stop anytime soon. “… God, is the spider infecting me? Is this what a mind parasite feels like?”

No, it’s much worse, you wanted to reply, but instead moved to what really mattered. “How old are you?”

“Uh, like, really old?” They winced. Another stinging inside their head. “Why… Why the questioning? Did I catch something bad? I swear, this is the first time I step down here, and I haven’t touched anything that’d-”

“I think you had your psychic awakening.”

“… Huh?”

“It’s not common for older people to awaken psychic powers, but it is still statistically possible to-”

“No no no, there’s no way I just-”

“But you did. There’s no other explanation.”

“Is the spider a normal psychic thing, then? That my spiritual guide or something?”

“Stop talking about the spider, xe has nothing to do with anything.” You stop. “I think.”

“You think? What’s that supposed to mean?” They stopped as well. “Who is that spider then?”

“Look, what matters is that you know what’s been wrong with you for… How long have you had the headaches? Since the Veil fell?”

“Since the Veil fell-”

“That’s what I thought. Yeah, it’s most likely some sort of awakening. Guess interacting with another psychic made something within your body snap into place.”

“… Aight, what do I do with that information then? Am I gonna short circuit every time I touch another being now?”

“I’m… I’m not sure, actually. It’s different for each person, you see.”

Head of Security sighed, looking over their handkerchief, more blood than cloth at this point. “Can’t you do anything? Some sort of… I dunno, psyche-lock? Some sort of gyas?”

“Geas. And…” You considered it. Should you help them? “I guess I could. I think someone else would be better prepared for this; I’m not someone who’s trained with preparing geas or any special injunction of that kind. I think it’d be better to deal with this through the proper channels, but I could at least help assuage some of the…” You looked at the blood staining their clothes. “… some of the most worrying side-effects.”

The guy smiled from ear to ear, and even their tail began swaying, a rather canine way of expressing their feeling. “Oh that’d- That’d be great yeah!”

You soon learnt this ‘Head of Security’ person was very expressive, and very sudden to change in that expressiveness. Not bipolar, by any means, but you wouldn’t blame people for using such an adjective on them.

You also learnt they were very physical in that expressiveness; as soon as you agreed to help by what you believed was ‘the bare minimum’, they moved in to thank you with a handshake and

“Wait, don’t-”

“Oh fuck-”

This was gonna be a long day, huh?

猫

Your name is CELESTE, and you were having an extremely interesting week. Yes, ‘interesting’ was an apt word for it.

You didn’t mean this in a negative way, of course. Far from it, these past few days were, without exaggeration, one of the best weeks of your life. Maybe not of your entire life, but it was still monumental in scope. When you are deconstructed into stardust, and are left floating through the infinite, broken threads of the multiverse (Multiverse wasn’t quite the right word for it.), a shared moment of bliss like this is not something you’d consider anything less than one of the most memorable bits of the history you called your own.

This moment of bliss, of course, was in reference to Sammie, a human being from a world not unlike yours — And yet, it was so different. So unique and special, in its own mundane ways — that reminded you of… Of something special, something you couldn’t quite place words on. Something lived once, and never again. Until now.

You were content with the connection you had made with Sammie, and none of what could happen in the future, whether near or distant, would change this, but you feared that you weren’t enough.

Now, you didn’t mean this in that you were incompetent in any manner. You felt very adequate; very ‘in place’ despite the very obvious displacement you were going through, but you couldn’t be there all the time. You weren’t strong enough to become anything more than a passing thought when Sammie wasn’t checking up on you, which… Which was normal for others, of course, but you couldn’t help but worry about her.

She seemed lonely, afflicted with the kind of institutionalized loneliness you’d been familiar with, in another plane; another life. The kind that didn’t seem so foreign, because everyone around you suffered from it. Maybe to a lesser degree, but it was there, taking hold of your life, chipping at it, slowly, quietly.

It wasn’t gonna be the end of the world, but when you could only see the world, feel reality through the eyes of a single person, there was not a lot of sentiments you could express other than longing. Other than worry.

Which is why you were as excited as you were concerned when another voice joined yours and hers, an odd oobleck of an entity ripping the psycho-reality you called home and staring right into your four pairs of eyes. Was this person a friendly neighbor, showing their presence, or an assailant, willing to rob and destroy what little you still possessed?

A few hours later, you were glad to see the latter was not the case: Sammie appeared to have made a friend.

You understand?

I… Sort of get it, I think? God, how do you orient yourself here?

I just told you.

I’m so sorry, but you must understand ‘telling me something’ isn’t the same as ‘actually getting me to do it’. This whole exercise is proof of it… God, how many dimensions are we working with here?

I don’t believe that matters.

There’s no way that’s true. That is quite literally the most important part of any hypno-space exploration.

Yeah, but it’ll work against you, to focus on the concrete parts of this plane, rather than the fluidity of it.

You can just tell me you don’t feel like explaining, you know? I can take it.

Oh my fucking- Look, I’m the psionics specialist here, so if you don’t believe me-

I am in charge of approving them!!!

Please stop yelling… It’s so much worse here than in the physical world…

I don’t know how to control my voice here! I don’t even have a voice!

QUIET DOWN

Ow, what the- No need to yell, geez!

Friendship was so nice to see, especially while it nurtures.

You held a vast amount of knowledge. It was only natural for you, who had observed them for this long, to understand their culture; the collection of loosely tied pieces they called civilization.

And yet, it was this idea of friendship that always eluded you. There was nothing particularly arcane about it; you simply weren’t good with social cues, having preferred your work and your accomplishments over any sort of interpersonal relation. This wasn’t out of mere neglect; you had been hurt before, and, at the time, you weren’t ready to try again.

Now, things were different. You’d be ready.

So is xe gonna stare at us the whole time we’re doing this or…

Huh?

Wait, who do you mean? Celeste?

Yeah?…

You can see xer?

You can see me?

Wa-was I not supposed to?

I… I don’t think so? I haven’t made contact with xer so it’s… What the hell is up with you, for real.

Sorry, I didn’t realize I was being perceived. Allow me to introduce myself, then.

This was certainly an odd predicament. Not that you understood much about how humans interpreted telepathics; still, you weren’t expecting, nor wished to intervene in Sammie’s class. Alas, xe wouldn’t be as uncouth as to not introduce xerself to a guest. With a smile, xe gave the new visit xer name.

My name is Celeste, as you are already aware. A pleasure.

Head of Security. I’ve heard a fair amount from Sammie over here — oh no you don’t get to call me Sammie, weirdo — A pleasure to be meeting you as well.

A handshake between the two followed, or the closest to a handshake as a raccoon dog could give a spider, neither of which had a solid, constant body to call their own.

Wait, you- You just did it.

Did what?

You moved your body through the hypno-space. You gave Celeste a handshake.

That they did.

That I did…

Head of Security stares at their hand. There’s nothing to stare at. They don’t get it.

I really don’t get it.

But you’re getting it. That’s the important part. It’s that spontaneity of action, of that ‘act, not think’ that allows you to focus on movement for the mind.

… Yeah, no, I still don’t get it.

Of course you don’t. now what’s that supposed to Look, I don’t have all day so let’s go back to learning. Try to move to your left.

They did not move to the left, or anywhere, for that matter. It would take much longer for them to understand the place they were standing at.

Yet this was fine, Celeste thought. Xe hadn’t seen Sammie this active, this motivated since they had met, almost a week back. It was a new facet; one xe didn’t mind seeing more of.

Ideally with less ‘having to babysit a soon-to-be-mentalist’. Ideally, in an environment where the two of them could be alone, undisturbed. At peace.

You know, I… I can just leave, if you need me to. I mean, I think I can figure that one out, at least.

Oh dear. Right. Maybe this was to be pondered upon some other time.

蠨

After the longest fortnight of your life, your feet finally touch the salmon-colored tile floor of Haneda airport. You sigh in relief as you carry your baggage past the lounge, and are quickly met with a familiar face.

"Took you long enough."

You turn around, then smile as Edward approaches. At least someone had your back on this dump of a Site.

“God, it really did, didn’t it? Two fucking weeks… God, I’m gonna kill Zesshou.” You jest. Well. If you could kill him, you would, but very important people would get very angry about that.

“I think he’s gonna kick the bucket before you get to do anything.” God. You wish.

“You say that, but I’ve been waiting for a good ten years for the old fart to keel over and die. It ain’t happening anytime soon.”

“Ah well. Hey, least it’s good to see you again.”

“Awww, did you miss me?”

“Oh yeah, I did miss you alright. Everyone did. Place’s falling apart without you to round up all these chucklefucks.”

"Course I missed you, you dumbass. This place sucks without you around."

“What?”

“Huh?”

"Shit, did I say that outloud?"

“N-nothing, don’t- Don’t worry. I just remembered something, is all.”

“Alright. Talk to you later, buddy. Take care.”

You leave Edward to his own devices, then finally decide to pull out your phone, and call one of your newer contacts.

“Hello?”

“Yeah? Sammie?”

“Oh great… It’s you. What’s up? Did you blow someone’s head off with your mind tricks?”

“Almost as bad. How do you stop reading people’s minds?”

“Oh. Pfft. I dunno. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Oh come on, you gotta help me here.”

“Alright, alright… You’re in Japan already, no?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry. I lack the jurisdiction to intervene in international matters. I recommend you contact your local psionics department head. Good luck.”

“Oh no, you don’t-”

“You’re not my problem anymore~”

“Put Celeste on the phone. Xe was so much nicer than-”

“Byebye~”

“Ok, but seriously, what do- Hello? Samara? H-hello?…”

“You gotta be fucking kidding-”

Your name is HEAD OF SECURITY, and this day wasn’t looking any better.

This is a tale for Round 2 of Romcon, featuring my character, Head of Security, and Lt Flops's character, Samara Maclear, as well as The_Spider_Queen’s character, Director Celeste, and Tyumen’s character, Edward Nguyen. For Lt Flops’ take on the trio/quartet, please refer to [TALE TO BE LINKED HERE]