Iconic, I'm on it - SCP Foundation

Yvonne wasn't having a good day.

First, they woke up 45 minutes before the alarm, and couldn't fall back asleep. Second, their phone did not get charged at all (stupid third-party cable.) Third, all the cheese puffs in the breakroom disappeared, possibly eaten by some gremlin. Fourth, the coffee station was smashed to smithereens, leaving Yvonne high and dry in the land of the dreary half-awake.

…Oh, and they were running for their life from whatever redacterific SCP that had decided to breach containment that day, so there's that, too.

'I wanted caffeine, not adrenaline for breakfast!' Yvonne thought to themself, as they dove into an open office, hiding behind a desk.

Seeing no signs of the werehorse from hell following them, they dropped to the floor in ragged breaths, shoulders sagging in relief.

Suffice to say, a less exciting start to their morning would've been preferred.

"Orientation did not prepare me for this." They huffed.

Was this how they're going to die? Alone and huddled away in some corner, the breakfast of some forsaken beast-

'No, stop being hysterical - deep breaths Yvonne. Think this through.'

They took a moment to evaluate the situation: The typical response time for a containment breach, if the Foundation handbook is to be trusted, is 10 to 12 minutes. Security had probably been dispatched by now, and around six minutes had passed since that thing roamed the hall.

Their best chance of survival is to lay low and pray to whatever gods (Eschatological reality benders? Apex-tier Pluripotent Entities?) were feeling generous that d-

A sudden chill crept up on their spine - must've been the creature's anomalous ability - making Yvonne very aware of it's oppressive presence, drawing ever so closer to their location. And they can't summon any strength to their legs.

4 minutes until certain death.

Their heart was pounding.

'Fuckfuckfuckfu-' Just as panic began to arise, their eyes landed on some pieces of paper and a marker nearby.

Slowly dragging themself towards the items, a half-baked idea emerged.

Junior Designer Suong Yvonne had had what some may consider a pretty eventful life up to that point. Twenty-two years on this mortal coil had never primed them for employment in a multinational clandestine organization (dedicated to basically gaslighting humanity into believing the world makes sense), especially with a Bachelor of Visual Arts, of all thing.

3 minutes until certain death.

They're all alone.

Still, their specific skillset might be their only lifeline in this situation - They had also taken an elective in Applied Memetics, and now the knowledge would have to serve as their shield: They were going to sketch up a cognitohazard.

Utilize the proper kind of disabling meme? Easy, they graduated top of the class for that one (the rest of the Foundation's courses were a tad too weird for their liking.)

Draw within restrictive parameters and visual balance? Graphics Design is their lifeblood.

1 minute until certain death.

Tears formed at the edges of their eyes.

Do it under heavy time constraint? Procrastination is an old friend, they'd get it done one way or another.

Proper encoding and compression of the memetic payload? More difficult when done analogue, but Yvonne was nothing if not adaptable.

It's all so overwhelming.

Finish it with their eyes closed lest it accidentally do them in? Well…

10 seconds until certain death.

No one wanted them around anyway.

The creature had stopped directly outside the office. It was now or never.

It slowly trotted, then cantered, then full on blitzed towards Yvonne's hiding place. They had barely finished drawing before having to move out of the way.

The beast once again changed its trajectory, its oppressive presence nearly on top of them. Yvonne held the paper right up to its face as they felt themself being thrown back.

1 second until certain death.

And the world went dark.

Cold air.

Muffled voice.

Smells of rubbing alcohol.

Yvonne slowly opened their eyes to the sight of sterile white walls and a familiar face.

"…Chief?"

"Glad to know you're still with us, Foggy. How are you feeling?" Sonia Crowsworth, a woman in her 50s and head of their division, replied.

"Wh- ughh, what happened?" Yvonne asked, loopily.

"Containment breach down in 6th wing. Some sort of fear-preying equine monster, killed 23 - and injured one. You sustained a mild concussion, three fractures in your left femur and one in your right arm." She spoke swiftly (although Yvonne could've sworn she sounded a tad… on edge? Exasperated? They couldn't tell.)

Sonia allowed them a few seconds of silence before she continued. "The security team told me they found you knocked out against the wall, and the creature sprawling listlessly near you. I'm guessing the cognitohazardous symbol they also found was authored by you?"

"Oh, that." Yvonne paused. "Uhh, it was the only thing I could think of to defend myself. An alpha prototype I had on mind, yanno?" They drawled.

Sonia sighed. "Well, I won't reprimand you since it was a life or death situation, but management is going to be on my tail since it fell under my jurisdiction, and was tested on an SCP without 'proper procedures or trial runs'." She grimaced at the last part.

"Yikes. Sorry, chief Sonia."

Sonia silently chuckled. "I examined your handiwork, Foggy. Don't know if I should be more impressed that you managed to efficiently compress such large amount of memetic payload or that it still worked despite looking like a blind 5-year-old drew it."

"In my defense, couldn't look directly when doin' it, and I was also-" Yvonne glanced to the side. "-distracted."

The look in Sonia's eyes softened, and she let the subject drop.

"…Did ya know all the cheese puffs in the break room disappeared?" Yvonne loudly pondered.

"Did they now?"

"Yeaa. Prob'ly some gremlin ate them. Think themself funny. Ya gotta watch out for them troublemakers, chief."

Sonia hummed. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind." The moment passed in companionable silence.

She checked her watch - nearly 22:00. "Well, it's getting late. I should get the office locked up and head home. You continue rest up here in the infirmary, alright? They're going to want you for the incident report once you get discharged."

Yvonne dropped back onto their bed, groaning. "I go to work early one time, and this is what I get? I'm gonna sleep foreverrrrr."

"Have a good night then, Foggy." Sonia ruffled their hair, and headed out for the day.

Nineteen days, six checkups, four cups of coffee and one annoyingly long incident report later, Suong Yvonne finally arrived at their workplace early, with 30 minutes to spare (and hopefully without unwanted creature-that-kills-you.) Speaking of early…

"Morning chief." Yvonne greeted. Chief Sonia was always an early bird, even by their standard. Did she ever sleep?

"Good morning, Foggy. Had a good rest?" Sonia asked.

"Nah, being stuck in the bed with nothing to do was the worst! I'm itching to get some work done!" Yvonne sipped on their fifth. "Speaking of, what's on the agenda today, chief?"

Sonia gave a non-committal hum. "We got the usual stuff: the Memetics Department sent 7 samples for us to disassemble and reformat, incoming requests from two Departments and three MTFs, have to add them to the list…" Sonia shuffled the files on her hand.

"And the Site Director wants you to hold a mandatory seminar on the composing and encoding of memetic hazard microtrigger."

Yvonne choked.

"W-wup- Pardon?"

"You're pardoned." Sonia rolled her eyes. "Apparently they were impressed with your initiative during the breach. Said it helped reduce collateral damage, and wanted on-site personnel to have that layer of contingency just in case." She fixed her gaze on them.

Yvonne fidgeted. "Um, I dunno. Still ended up in a pretty bad shape, didn't I?"

"And you survived."

"I think that was, like, down more to luck than anything."

"You also kept a dangerous entity in check long enough for security to take care of the rest."

"It was a gamble anyway. As you said, it looked like the work of a blind 5-year-old - Someone better can do that seminar…" They mumbled into their mug.

Sonia placed a hand on her junior's shoulder. "Fogg- Yvonne, kiddo. Your work has been invaluable, and you helped save lives that day. I promise, you're perfect for the job - Our division doesn't take on just anyone, you know."

"…I can't decline, can I?"

"It's Director's order." Sonia grabbed the keycard and entered the passcodes. "Since I know you're terrible with public speaking," ("Ugh…" groaned Yvonne.) "I'll assist you on the presentation. We have two weeks to prepare."

Yvonne sighed. "Alright, guess there's no getting out of it."

The door opened. "That's the spirit. Who knows? Maybe you'll be promoted to Senior Designer after this." The chief teased.

"Wouldn't that be something." Yvonne downed the rest of their coffee. "Hey chief?"

"Yes?"

"…Thank you."

Sonia Crowsworth smiled. "Thank me by being productive, Foggy, or else those projects are going to pile sky high."

"Won't let you down, chief." Peering into the files, there's a new request by one Department of Ecology and Sustainable Development. They took a breath, and eyed their ever-familiar desk.

For the first time in nearly three weeks, Yvonne stepped into their office, past the silver placard above the entrance.

DEPARTMENT OF DESIGN

Iconography Division