Item #: SCP-2721

Object Class: Keter-provisi Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-2721's interference with the servers of Tumblr, Inc. is to be masked according to standard procedure SP-3937.

Any attempt to change the focus or amount of SCP-2721-LYRE's blog posts is to be treated as a containment breach. Any attempts at tracking down the true identity of SCP-2721-LYRE or SCP-2721-LORD is to be treated as a containment breach. 12 researchers are to maintain blogs on Tumblr in attempts to befriend and further contain SCP-2721-LYRE.

Suppression of SCP-2721 is to be maintained through Procedure 413-Diamond. As of ██/██/20██ Procedure 413-Diamond has been discontinued, as a change in conditions failed to result in EB-class ontological breakdown. If SCP-2721 begins to enact its directives, Protocol 1111-Scratch is to be executed (see Document A).

The contents of SCP-2721-LYRE's blog and SCP-2721-LORD's private blog are to be cataloged in the databases of Site-73. If SCP-2721-LORD is to mention any attempt to repair SCP-2721-LYRE, Protocol 1111-Scratch is to be executed.

Research is underway to discover potential further antimemetic properties of SCP-2721. As such, a provisional designation of Keter has been given until the extent of such properties are fully understood.

As of ██/██/20██, no further antimemetic properties have been detected, and containment has stabilized. Reclassification to Euclid approved.

Description: SCP-2721 is a satellite of indeterminate origin, currently in a selenosynchronous orbit on the far side of Earth's moon. It consists of two entities, designated SCP-2721-LYRE and SCP-2721-LORD, connected by an umbilical cord-like object which consists of both inorganic circuitry and organic biological components. SCP-2721 is able to conceal itself both by passively affecting electronics and generating a weak antimemetic SEP field; research is currently ongoing to see if SCP-2721 possesses further antimemetic properties. Due to this fact, SCP-2721's physical form is indiscernible to untrained individuals.

Alteration of the moon's surface gravity corresponding to SCP-2721. Near side on the left, far side on the right. Map from Lunar Gravity Model 2011.

SCP-2721-LYRE consists of a fluxing flesh-like substance which is covered in what appear to be ocular protrusions. While constantly fluxing, a few characteristics can be determined through its affects on the moon's gravitational field, including mass and [REDACTED]. SCP-2721-LORD is a spherical-dome-shaped entity with cilia-like objects containing [REDACTED] protruding across the spherical surface. Due to posts made on both SCP-2721-LYRE and SCP-2721-LORD's blogs, coupled with analysis of the EB-class ontological breakdown scenarios, SCP-2721-LYRE is theorized to observe a given planet and generate SCP-2721's SEP field, while SCP-2721-LORD is thought to propel its cilia towards the planet during an EB-class ontological breakdown scenario.

It is unknown when SCP-2721 was created and how long it has been in orbit; though undetectable under normal circumstances, possible depictions of SCP-2721 are present in ancient Greek, Christian, and Mekhanite mythologies. While the physical make-up of SCP-2721 is unknown, it is theorized to be a technobiological weapon - SCP-2721 or entities of similar purpose have been confirmed to be the cause of the EB-class ontological breakdown scenarios on planets CGTG-612, TTGA-9A4, and TTGT-78C.

On 10/25/2011, routine Foundation scans detected electromagnetic broadcasts being transmitted from an otherwise empty section of Luna's surface to the headquarters of social media company Tumblr, Inc.. These waves resulted in minor server disturbances, which removed the daily post limit on a single blog (later discovered to be SCP-2721-LYRE's blog); further investigation led to discovery of SCP-2721. Afterwards, several other anomalies were discovered to result from its presence, such as one of the moon's gravitational field anomalies and [REDACTED].

SCP-2721-LYRE presents itself on its blog as a trans woman artist and blogs exclusively about social justice issues, its content, and the webcomic Homestuck. It has maintained a large group of acquaintances on the website and is well known for its Homestuck theories, drawings, and discussions.

SCP-2721-LORD maintains both a primary "aesthetic" blog and a secondary "private" blog in which it talks about its feelings regarding SCP-2721-LYRE.

Given SCP-2721-LORD's blog posts, it is theorized that a malfunction in SCP-2721-LYRE's programming caused it to become fixated on the webcomic Homestuck instead of its original directives.

Selections from SCP-2721-LYRE's blog

An example of SCP-2721-LYRE's artwork depicting the character Calliope.

My About!

my names Lyris! youve probably seen my homestuck stuff, but if youre here after reading some discourse post i wrote, im sorry to say that youre gonna arrive in a world of disappointment (i normally try to stay away from getting too heavy on the issues anymore). i mostly here to post my bad homestuck theories and talk to friends! i think thats it… oh, and art. i do art, too, i guess.

if i follow you, id like you to tag for trypophobia, scopophobia, homophobia, transmisogyny, alien abductions, and any mention or imagery associated w/ childbirth or menstruation (sorry its for dysphoria reasons i'm not a grossed out misanthrope I promise).

my tags are [EXTRANEOUS DATA REMOVED]

im not sure what else to put here. i… love the Earth???

i've never really felt comfortable about my body, but being here on this website and reading fucking homestuck has helped me realize what i want it… what i want me to be. Calliope is probably the reasons why, honestly. i chose womanhood like she did (not that there isn't dysphoria for me lmao) and she's who i feel like sometimes. she's just this strange person none of you will ever understand, just aping things she's seen other people do in an attempt to be happy… playing at a kind of beauty that she could never attain.

it was the first push i'd felt that told me i could change for the better, that the past and even present isn't gospel. it told me that even if dreams weren't always going to come true, happiness could.

jesus did that even make sense. i just hope he drops the upd8 soooon

Read More

my body is just a fucking grotesque amalgam of flesh. its just a fucking lump of cells and whatever other garbage which gathered together on some damn space rock one day and set up shop

and i've gotta live with that, i've gotta live with some damned thing i never wanted, dealing with grief over its day-to-day functions, playing a game with gravest consequences and i just want it to be over, i just want to be done, i never fucking asked to hold my fate in my hands, let alone the fate of others, it isn't fair, it isn't fair it isnt fair why, why, why, why why

why am i just a fucking horrorterror of tissues, just such an enormous eldritch fuckup

its like lovecraft got up off the pot one day, and when he wiped, he decided to keep the fucking shitsmeared toilet paper for inspiration, fucking framed it, and after his death it was sold at an auction to a dumb family who takes goddamn family photos with it, there it is, shitstained TP just sitting in the background, waiting and watching, kids see their baby pictures and ask their parents, whats in the background, and are told it's god damn howard phillip lovecrafts shitwipe still covered in his biological material, and they better be god damn grateful and. y'know what this's fucking poetry right here. i'm gonna have to make that something.

lyris

they are one grotesque amalgam of flesh

she is a horrorterror of tissues

i am the eldritch fuckup

"lovecrafts shitstain" medium: asspaper

that's fucking poetry.

i've done terrible terrible things, back when i didn't know what i was, back before i felt good about myself… i mean i didn't know they were bad, i guess, but does that excuse me? i don't think, no, i know the kind of shit i did could not be excused

and please, fuck, do not send me some sadsack fucking anon about how perfect and pretty and beautiful i am or what the fuck ever. i SHOULD feel like this. i should feel bad about what i was, and i wont forget. I cant forget.

i guess that's for the best. it'll help me be… me? i'm just changing for the fucking better, i'm just gonna fucking get better because its all i can do, welcome to the new gospel, i'm the goddamn preacher, so listen up; fuck the past, the future is what counts now, live for tomorrow and sin no fucking more.

i was in a bad place before homestuck. i mean, not like i'm not now, lmao, but a worse place. everything looked, seemed the same… everything WAS the same. i couldn't enjoy anything at a level that was real. everything was just skimming the surface. i could never get down to the core of anything, understand anything; only see, only watch, only wait for someone or something else to do something. i felt… sad's a shitty way to put it. i was joyless? Eli couldn't even make me feel anything. i'm not even sure i COULD feel anything before i realized i was a woman… maybe finally opening myself up to this allowed me to finally feel?

i've heard a lot about people going on hrt and, like, crying a lot. i always hear people talking about being on estradiol for a while causing them to just, you know, cry for no reason - just some Tears. i don't know. i cant physically transition given my issues… but i feel like this kind of mental transition has done a similar thing to me.

i can cry; i can laugh.

i mean that sorta shit when i talk about it being hard to distinguish between getting into homestuck and realizing i was a lady. they're so fucking intertwined. they both gave me an awakening that just kind of… came from each other.

i know lately all i've been posting is sad shit, but honestly, i'm happier (and more productive! i hope yall wanna date monsters because i miiiiiight be in the process of making something special ;P) than i've ever been. i can't explain it quite right, but the fact that i've been able to feel sad is an improvement. it's like, once there was just a void with nothing in it, but now i'm feeling. i'm feeling and its wonderful.

i think Elis starting to enjoy homestuck, too! its even making aesthetic posts for it… i knew that loser didnt really hate jokes. god, its such a cute nerd. im so lucky to have it, i really am. and im lucky to have you guys.

i hope you all have a good night. i hope you are all becoming the people you want to be.

it bothers me, sometimes, that i'll never look like the women i see on here. i really do, honestly, love seeing all of your HRT timelines, honest to god. i'm not saying anything bad to that, please don't think that. i just feel so down about it.

i just, i try so fucking hard, but i will never look the way i want to, the way i feel, the way i Am in a way that precedes all Being. god does that even make sense. i'm starting to think it's, i'm, okay though, even if it doesn't.

i mean, like, remember that Calliope metaphor i brought up so long ago? one of the things i didn't bring up was the fact. she is beautiful. she is beautiful. she might just be mimicking whatever she sees other people do, but that doesn't mean she isn't her own self and that she isn't beautiful and… i guess i might be beautiful too.

i don't think i'm being revolutionary by not being able to transition. it doesn't bother me as much anymore if everyone in the world but you guys doesn't think i'm a woman. it just means so much to me that you all treat me so nice. you all say such nice things about my drawings, you help me when i'm down, you interact with me just in general…

i want to say that i don't deserve this, but i'm happy that you find me worthy of your love, of all this love. i'm happy you all find me beautiful.

I will never hurt anyone ever again.

Eli and i had a talk last night. i think i feel better. it loves me. i love it. i think i have the best moirail in the world. i'm glad we're both not interested in, like, sex stuff. that certainly helps… but just, in general, Eli understands me like no one else could. we've been together so long, it's a part of me, honestly.

i'm rewatching [s] Terezi: Remem8er and crying. Eli doesn't understand why i keep watching it if it makes me cry. it's such a dork. Eli's usually so good at understanding where i'm coming from, but fuckin' damn if it doesn't understand the importance of a good, solid weep.

i guess there's always been that slight disconnect though, like it doesn't really get it all. i dunno. it might just be bad at this whole feeling thing… and that's okay. i wasn't either.

i'm still uncomfortable, sometimes, calling myself a woman. i'm - no. i feel so ugly and repellent, and yet Eli tells me i'm beautiful. it told me, and i quote, i was "large," and "contained all things," lmao what does that even mean? i guess i got the weirdo moirail i deserve then, huh.

god, it's such a fucking nerd. it really fucking is… and i don't think anyone could ever make me happier - i wouldn't trade it for the world.

i!!! almost forgot!!! i got Eli to do some writing for that monster dating project thing i was working on, so expect it to be coming soon! we dont have a working title for it yet but im sure it'll help fill you guyss cravings after homestucks done ;P

Selections from SCP-2721-LORD's private blog

The only image contained on SCP-2721-LORD's private blog.

She has asked me to call her she. She/her pronouns, she tells me. "She" of the tongue of "Earth". She enjoys it. She says she has found something worthwhile. She is reading a comic, she says.

She asks me to make a blog. She shows me the blog site. It is filled with images and sounds and colors. She tells me to put whatever pleases me on my blog. She tells me I can talk about my secret feelings on this blog. She assures me that she will never look at it. She also talks to other entities about the pictures and the words in the comic, the entities on the planet we are sent to monitor and then end.

She tells me not to do it anymore; we will not do it anymore. She will not let me. She says that she is afraid of it, what we do. I do not understand being afraid of what is natural.

I do not understand humor. She has started making jokes with me. She tells me this is humor. I understand what humor is. I do not understand the point of it. She tells me things called jokes. That is what the comic is about, she says. It is jokes.

I do not like jokes. They seem to be lies, or frivolous events. They are strange things that have no place in what we are.

I do not understand the comic with the trolls and the children. I do not understand why she enjoys them. I have read it. I have read it exactly 13,412 times. My totality is currently dedicated to understanding this, and puzzles may lie within. Something is in there, somewhere is something that broke her. Something within the frivolity and the strange letters and the images of the strange things with their orifices wide and open.

I tell her I am reading it to be closer to her. I have never had to lie. We were one, once. We were unable to lie to each other, once. We are connected, but now she is closed to me. She says privacy is important to her now. We did not have the word before.

She has asked me to call her Lyris. We had never had names. I have fixed her before. She has fixed me before. We were broken then. She tells me we are not broken now. She tells me she is "happy."

I do not understand where there is room for happiness. She has asked if she could call me Eli. I said yes. I do not understand why I need a name. We have never had names. She is malfunctioning, but she says she is happy.

She does not want to remember how we look. She says it is "Dysphoria": when one feels bad that their body does not look the way they want it to. I do not understand the body. I do not understand feeling pleasure or displeasure in the way I look.

Lyris is drawing now. It makes her happy, she says, to draw. She enjoys drawing the strange things from the comic she enjoys.

I worry that if I do not fix her that she will become something completely other than what I am.

I worry, though. I could be broken; am I broken, too? She would not fix me, that is unless I fixed her, that is unless I repaired her damaged self. I could revert her to a state before this strange place, before these strange words, and before these strange pictures that have made her so different.

I do not remember ever worrying.

I do not know what she would do in my position. I do not know what I will do.

I do not understand the puppet in the comic. I do not know why it does what it does. I hate its strange cheeks. I hate the clown with the paint on its face. I hate the honking noises. I hate the way they move with their sickening limbs flopping about.

I look at them, and to look at them is an aberration. They are disgusting. I do not like it. I do not understand what is “funny” about tiny false men. I do not like the lies. I do not like the strange softness of them.

I do not think I can see what she sees.

She says she is "happy" when I blog. I put the pictures of the things that delight the senses. Things like that are scarce in this world; things are strange here. I do not think she wants to leave.

I do not think it is right for me to fix her. We have malfunctioned before, and I do not remember happiness then. I only remember small things breaking.

She may not be broken. She may have been fixed.

I think I like the angry gray one.

She has been doing art requests and taking commissions. She is helping another one of her friends. She has many friends. She draws images of the friends when they ask her. She sometimes draws images of her friends how they wish to see themselves instead of what they are. She tells me this is a "fursona". This is a kind of lying, and it is strange.

I asked her to draw a picture of us. Our current state, not how she wished us to be. She refused. She did not want to remember how she looked. She said she was ugly. I do not understand what is ugly and what is not. I know only that there are pleasing things and that there are things that are unworthy. I told her this. I do not think it worked.

I told her that she was beautiful. I do not know beautiful, but to tell her such a thing is to make her happy. I told her that any form she took was beautiful. I told her that she was magnificent and that she was large. I told her she contained more than any of us could understand. I told her so many things. I do not think she feels better. I hope she feels better yet.

She drew a picture of us. She said it is not something to put on her main blog. It is something for me. I am posting it here, because it is good for things which please me to be on my blog.

I think she is beautiful, and she is my friend.

She says the image is only a sketch, that it is unfinished. I do not think so. I think it is perfect.

She says I am her "moirail." It is an invention of Homestuck. I am not sure what it exactly means. I am not sure she does either. I believe it means a friendship of love, a love platonic. I believe that she, too, is my moirail.

I am breaking, I think. I may already be broken. I am repaired otherwise. I do not understand so much. She is pleased, and that is that which matters. I do not remember caring about her happiness so dearly. I do not remember caring about happiness.

She is beautiful, even if she thinks she is a monster.

She forgets that she is only the one who watches, who catalogs. I am the one who does. I will remain broken as long as she is happy. I will not do what I am here to do. I will not commit the act I am here to do. I will not do what fulfills my purpose.

I will love my friend until the parts that make me crumble into dust.

I will help make this world one worthy of us both.