text
stringlengths 100
24.1k
|
|---|
On and on it dragged. I had heard of time anomalies in my work, and wondered at my fate here. Then, Mr. Izquierdo pointed to the man who had been at the door when we arrived. "Lalo! It's your turn!" |
"What're they even digging for? Damn," Agents Sharpe and Locke were assigned to oversee the hauling of new boxes of dirt up from the basement and into storage areas. Then they were hauling boxes of dirt after much of the employees went off for the day. More dirt kept coming. |
The goddamn [[[weryllium-proposal|Proposal]]]. While working on-and-off (mostly off) on my 4k I procrastinated so hard I ended up making a good 5 or 6 other drafts. This was one of them; a realization that no one had made the joke on the double meaning of '001 proposal' before, so I could do it. |
SCP-3911 was initially transported by ship to Bergen, Norway where it was transferred to an armored convoy for the remainder of the transit to Area-02. The convoy transited safely into Sweden near Flötningen, where the attack took place. |
“Incredible. The product of three hundred years of alchemically enabled and accelerated inbreeding, dozens of generations without any outside blood, reinforced by the ruthless culling of all but the most monstrously mutated, you are a work of art!” Iris marvelled. “I can’t believe I actually got a chance to look at one of you things up close. Do you have a name, little Nosferatu?” |
[[span class="hover"]][[span style="background: radial-gradient(ellipse at bottom right, hsla(0, 0%, 50%, 0.75) 0%, hsla(0, 0%, 50%, 1) 50%);"]]//SCP-Scale//[[/span]][[image http://scp-sandbox-3.wikidot.com/local--files/collab:news-03-2020/rta3.jpg link="http://www.scp-wiki.net/rta-s-artwork" style="width:33%;"]][[/span]] |
> There is no movement for thirty (30) seconds before smoke becomes visible rising from the exterior wall. After seven (7) seconds, SCP-737 emerges from the exterior wall. The front carriage of SCP-737 then opens, revealing its biological component. The biological component expels thirteen (13) wooden masses which unfurl into smaller specimens of SCP-737. Original SCP-737 then releases steam from its 'chimney' in what appears to be celebration. Other SCP-737 do likewise before all specimens proceed out of the range of the camera. It is highly likely that SCP-737's -1 through -14 escaped at this point. |
"I can deploy as many members of any task force as I feel is necessary to contain this anomaly. Completely hypothetical, of course." She pulled her phone from her pocket. "He should be on his way back soon..." |
> I am hereby requesting reinstatement of testing on SCP-3704. The last test caused a containment breach, but that only further enforces the need to understand this thing. That subject broke out of his restrains and killed a security team with his bare hands. During the test, numerous things were out of place. The timings were all wrong, everything we thought we knew about it were thrown out the window. SCP-3704 could have any number of anomalous properties we don't know about, or the current ones could be stronger. We. Don't. Know. It's dangerous. I'm firm in the belief that we need to learn more. We need to know what it actually does. |
She laughs. "Yeah. He’s gotta learn to control his temper." She pauses. "Oh, the thing loaded on your computer. I’ll tell you what happens in the video. This one I chose is called //Life//." |
> **Dr. Hydock:** Excellent. Thank you very much for your cooperation. Is there anything you need before this is concluded? |
> * //02:24// - Squads report some difficulty keeping up with the rate of replacement. Explosive weapons authorized against origin points. No hostility reported directly towards Foundation teams. |
"And your face. . . your mind. . . your past. . . your family. . . your friends. And then he resells them to anyone who wants to live your life and can afford his fees." |
The methods chosen by Dr. Moroes Hadowell always consist of causing lethal damage to his targets until they are rendered disabled. |
> || May 9th, 1999||An instance of SCP-4129-2 was seen skipping over to the counter to place another order. While doing so SCP-4129 changed location. The SCP-4129-2 instance was discovered by hikers four and a half hours later in the rocky mountains. Cause of death was attributed to drowning after salt water was discovered in its lungs. A cover story was fabricated and the body was confiscated by the Foundation. || |
||SCP-2336-A8 ||Non-sapient tetrapod with body plan superficially resembling a rhinoceros. Mass approx. 1200 kg. Body temperature in excess of 260 °C. Breathes fire. || Powers turbine to supply electricity to Site 38.|| |
> **SCP-1826:** That would be dishonorable. You will take this time to prepare yourself, brother. I am very interested in seeing how you plan on besting me with only your hands! |
SCP-4284 are hostile when threatened and are capable of deploying their appendages in defense with deadly results. The utmost caution should be observed when interacting with SCP-4284 specimens. SCP-4284 are poikilothermic, causing them to be invisible to thermal imaging systems, complicating identification in the wild. |
**D-13321:** OK. Yeah, I see it now. Walls are metal, floors are grated, also metal. Can you see this? |
“Excellent. I’ve never tested that in an actual fight before,” Iris smirked as she sauntered into the chamber. “Thank you ever so much. If that works against you, it’ll work against pretty much anything.” |
[[div style="color: #f5e9e9; font-size: 8pt; background-color: #009494; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; -webkit-border-radius:30px /70px; -moz-border-radius:30px /70px; border-radius:30px /70px; background:#009494; background:-webkit-gradient(linear, 0 0, 0 100%, from(#00adad), to(#009494)); background:-moz-linear-gradient(#00adad, #009494); background:-o-linear-gradient(#00adad, #009494); background:linear-gradient(#00adad, #009494); text-align: left; padding-top: 2px; padding-bottom: 2px; padding-right: 20px; padding-left: 20px;"]] |
> **Agent Whitely:** Well... out of place. I can understand the nightmare thing, with the screaming, blood, pain... this room was... well, normal. As if had been left untouched. And it wasn't even all that special. I mean, it was just a little storage area, dark, a lot of boxes, a few shelves covered in DVD cases. Stacks and stacks of those. There was another door, but it was locked, so we kept moving. And the world around us went from a mass of deformed flesh, all red and veiny, to white. Stuffy thought it was bones at first, but when we checked, it was... well, concrete. The layout changed rather quickly, actually. The stairs turned into the stairs of what we all just kind of knew was an apartment complex. We could hear screaming still, but it was muffled. The walls were completely covered in those photos, at this point. Quite unnerving. |
Several objects that appear to be linked to known Groups of Interest have been found during expeditions into SCP-5317. Dating of these objects is inconsistent, and no connections between these Groups of Interest and current or former inhabitants of the zone have been found. |
“So with this one there’s a red line down the middle of the room with a red square coming off of it. Do not step over this line. Just slide the tray into the red square and then go.” |
**Recovery:** SCP-613 was first observed during a baking fair in Wisconsin where one baker was reportedly selling "living bread" to customers, prompting MTF ███-█ to take action and retrieve the object, interrogate the person producing SCP-613-1, and dose all involved with Class-B Amnestics. Since then, more instances of SCP-613 have appeared internationally in possession of various individuals with avid interest in baking. All individuals in possession of SCP-613 instances have refused to reveal where or how they acquired them, or claim to have no knowledge of such. |
**Parker:** Well Commander, whatever your explanation, the fact remains that you were responsible for the worst breach of security this Site has seen in years. |
> [[size 250%]][[span style="font-family: Dearest;"]]//[[[No Safe Haven#NSH-9|Chapter 9]]]//[[/span]][[/size]] |
* Again, originally this was just a conversation, which would be continued back at the MTF barracks, but it felt too slow. I came across SCP-932 as part of my reading on sonic/auditory/musical SCPs, and they seemed a good fit for something to drive the action - they're relatively harmless, but require this particular MTF's skills to recapture. |
Personnel who enter SCP-2322 will find themselves in a replica of how Site-77 appeared on January 11th, 1999 at 6:30AM. All personnel, anomalous objects, and inanimate objects have been replicated[[footnote]]To varying levels of detail[[/footnote]], and will behave consistently in every loop. All replicated personnel within SCP-2322 will identify the subject as Shirley Gillespie, who was Site-77's director at this time. |
ps I make company logo and scan, but I want it made pretty for official use, not my silly crayon drawing. |
For further information about Outposts and their host SCP-2344-1 instances and cultures, please contact either the HMCL Supervisor for the Outpost, or the Site-93 HMCL Supervisor. |
> Our interest in PoI-2162-1 has been noticed, too - our contact pointed out Michael Cavendish, who had been watching us from the corner of the bar. We might need to have a word with him, I suspect. |
Well, because she was there. She remembers finding the pharmacist crushed to death beneath a fallen medical cabinet, her skull an unrecognisable splatter of scarlet. She remembers the floor being torn away beneath her feet, and only barely making it out of that portion of the building alive. |
> Okay, so I just touched the wierd skeleton thing, and now I'm in... I don't know, it looks kind of like a bedroom. I'm going to have a look around. |
Casual attire: Boots, knee high, Athletic shoes, primarily during runs or trips requiring lots of walking, and occasionally flip flops. Jeans, leggings, and sweatpants. Tops are usually less dressy blouses, T-shirts, sleeveless/strapless tops, cardigans, and occasionally just a sports bra. |
> "I met this stupid doctor guy, somehow he only spoke in lowercase letters. I don't know how that works, but he does. Fuck him anyways." |
//Note from Croque: On the Sandbox, the parent page must be in the {{collab}} category, or you'll get an error when trying to set it as the parent. You can change its category by going to the bottom of the page, hitting +Options then Rename, and sticking "collab:" on the front of the name.// |
Agent Bolterpyre was assigned to MTF Beta-65 ("Wandering Watcher") for the retrieval of a "Codex Universarius" within the Wanderer's Library. The Codex was decoded, with their assistance, and revealed the existence of one "Protectorate Blackshot". Further studies about this Person-of-Interest was currently pending approval. |
> ++++++ IR#20██011300███-04, Status: //Replied.// User: //mdavis01// (**IP:** 10.119.155.███) Timestamp: //20██/01/13 08:37// |
> //”What the flying fuck is going on?” She voices it more like a statement, with a glare that embodies ‘hell hath no fury’.// |
**Dr Richards:** You don’t have a choice D-5850, it’s either comply, or face termination. If you like, we could have a guard “assist” you over the railing. |
Quinn's phone rang in her pocket. She recognized the ringtone-- Harley. "Don't have time for this..." she sighed. |
Instances of TGI Fridays which appear through SCP-4405 are known as SCP-4405-1, and aside from a localized gravity field and a seemingly infinite source of power and food, they are entirely non-anomalous. Instances of SCP-4405-1 can be exited through windows and doors; however without means of locomotion, subjects who exit an SCP-4405-1 instance will slowly gravitate back towards the instance. |
[[collapsible show="+Prometheus Labs - Project #92230 "Orange Staircase" - Level 3/2325 Clearance Required" hide="- Authenticated"]] |
> wash aroint the impurities - rain cleanses all sin and prepares the soul f'r Elysium. divide, not as dictat'd by the rigors of harmony, but rather into two opposing principles to be later coagulat'd to form a unity of opposites. |
Tristan smiled softly at the plaque, touching the engraving before walking down the hallway, whistling a Christmas carol to himself. |
"I haven't smoked all day. I deserve a cigarette. To celebrate," she answers, lips barely parted. The end of the cigarette glows a dull orange, and there's a crinkling sound as she draws the first breath. She purses her lips and blows out a stream of dry, toxic smoke. A thin plume traces its way up from the cigarette. I take another drink, only to have the taste choked out by another puff of blue-grey smoke. She taps the end cigarette into a glass ashtray, depositing a little load of ash. |
**Simpson:** Well, to get us started, I have to ask- what's with the costumes? They're fancy, yeah, very pretty, but don't they get hot? |
> **NOTE:** PoI-5591 promptly returned to his designated chamber. Further interviews are currently pending approval. Concerns regarding staff composure and professionalism have led to Dr. McLaughlin being permanently removed from the subject's interview rota. |
|| **SCP-2072-11** || █████ ███████ || The Younger Unificationist || ████-██-██* || ████-██-██* || //Date of birth in future.// || |
* Under a Public-Domain-Equivalent License such as CC0, Unlicense, or (my favorite) Do What the Fuck You Want To Public License |
[[include component:sp-image caption=SCP-1968 - Global Retrocausality Torus|src=http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2014/350/e/9/scp_1968_by_sunnyparallax-d8a51l2.jpg|width=400]] |
Or so it thought! One good look into its eyes was all I needed to know its true nature, and in those deep wells of cosmic time I saw that it was only its heart that was truly immortal, and without it, the beast would perish. It was obvious what needed to be done: separate the beast from its heart. An impossible task you say? Herman Fuller doesn't know the meaning of the word impossible! |
"Bought and sold, bought and sold. I tell ya, I know what it's like. That's my whole life, my sum of the existence, nutshelled for your enjoyment. Name's Mister Money." |
[[include component:image-block name=2j13ghv-new.jpg|caption=Dr. Gerald was told to take an ordinary school bus full of D-class to a nearby site. He somehow managed to end up in a demolition derby.]] |
kill the enemy where possible.[[footnote]] [[span style="color:blue"]] I've accessed the security streams and watched them a few times. I had no idea what the hell I was looking at until I read a couple of files lying around. This site has a very specific purpose, apparently, and these guys figured it out too. They're doing containment. [[/span]] [[/footnote]]use lstahte at all (smite OR times). do not allow the enemy to see you, for they may report your position to their streams. **do not capture live enemy!** their streams can track them to our home if they (are OR ear) alive. the crusdaers most successful in acputring enemy each month will be waeerdrd with increased rtoinas.[[footnote]] Give me a couple of minutes to look this up.[[/footnote]] |
**Photo Result:** Foreground shows a man in combat fatigues with a gut wound. Dr. Kald can be seen in the background, sprinting in the general direction of the man. A First Aid kit is held in one hand, Dr. Kald appears to be shooting somebody with a pistol held in his other hand. Large sections of the surroundings are apparently enshrouded in fire. |
"It's about a NEET who works from home so he can buy anime merchandise. The usual stuff: posters, dakis, figmas, whatever. Total hikikomori otaku. The person who always delivers his stuff is this girl, a hot tomboy, and they become pretty fast friends. Together they resolve to destroy capitalism and go on an over-the-top adventure with high-energy fights to destroy merchandising companies who keep society under their thumb. But, and here's the kicker, when people watch it they only get //more// apathetic and lethargic towards capitalism, and so they buy merchandise for the show! It's a critique on h-" |
Down more halls up some stairs, out away from the hustle and bustle of the workshops and up towards the Doctor’s tower. It was empty, at least to appearances, but that said only so much. The Executive Board was not very good at listening, but they were very good at hearing things. Horrible at seeing, but excellent at watching. |
> Foyl Threccia aæyiy lal. La wæio oyua fgwzw uagl Wieverr fouai'gjo olaw jgf, oyæuak olayi ilyirv, ælk La uaæl æjælal, æw sæwf La ai'girk. |
SCP-7475-J is to be made aware of its nature every two hours, regardless of whether or not it has forgotten. Should the subject refuse to hear out this information, it is to be made aware by force. In the event the subject does severe damage to itself, medical attention is to be given under heavy armed guard. |
"Oi, it ain't some blood we're after." Chris stalked forward, taking the gun from Crow's hand, towering over him. |
It's been a while since I wrote in this particular journal. I've been cycling which ones I write through basically bc I'm paranoid. But to catch you up: |
He pointed up to the highest part of the shrine’s roof, where a horn was stored in a small pocket of ancient glass. |
//D-91101 and D-84544 enter containment chamber. After a few moments, SCP-4489 is brought into the chamber and sat on a table.// |
David entered the apartment block, covering his mouth with a soiled silk rag. It did not help much; his lungs itched and burned from the dense haze that blanketed the city, which served as a constant reminder of the day previous. In an effort to prevent it drifting in, he slammed the door shut quickly. |
> **Analogue in Current Reality:** Group was disbanded shortly after being founded, but did create a [[[ SCP-2305| failed prototype of the book]]] before disbanding, which has since been heavily altered by another entity. |
**Dr. Oldman:** [Yes, this will do lovely. Dr. Anna Lang, everyone. Isn't she great? (//Pauses//) Yes, not as great as you, Red. Anyway, throughout this seminar, you'll learn about the various pain centers of the human body, the psychology of horror and torment, and the steps you can take to increase your efficacy in this holiest of efforts.] |
You have the power to make him feel worse than what you have felt. Make him wish he could go to Hell. |
**Special Containment Procedures:** SCP-1828 is kept in a dedicated monitoring laboratory at Site 17, with constant video recording of the entire interior. Immediately after each transformation, analysis software is to match all replicas produced to known on-site personnel and notify the researcher and lead security officer on duty of any discrepancies. Additionally, any SCP-1828-A present are to have their location and positioning noted, and the location of any intersections are to be analyzed for abnormalities. |
**Addendum 4316.03:** An additional test with D-4314 was scheduled, to ascertain the effects of repeated testing. He was discovered unconscious at the end of one such test, clutching a small paper document. A scan is attached: |
**Description:** SCP-1567 is the collective term for the town of Gallington (SCP-1567-1), its population (SCP-1567-2), and the SCP-1567-3 phenomenon. |
[[div style="display: inline-block; border:dashed 1px #999999; background:#F5F5F5; float:center; width:84%; padding:1px 15px; margin: 10px 10px 10px 40px"]] |
**Special Containment Procedures:** SCP-2255’s current residence is a Foundation-owned island north of the Phoenix Islands group in the Pacific Ocean. A research base has been established on the island’s south shore to monitor and report on SCP-2255’s activity. At least one Level-3 and three Level-2 personnel are to occupy the base at all times and maintain communication with the nearest Foundation containment site. All research staff assigned to SCP-2255 must have background in biology (if possible, botany specifically) or psychology. |
"A girl can dream can't she?" Gillespie smiled, looking up. "He's still only got one kidney, lung and an abbreviated intestinal tract. We've found a nutrient rich solution is best to keep him healthy. We tried using [[[SCP-2380|twenty-three eighty]]] to be another kidney but it kept moving, ran into the same trouble as the damned legs. Home-grown organs are being worked on but, you know, those can be hit-or-miss batch to batch." |
> The pills are bottled in standard orange prescription containers with white lids, and each has a sticker on the exterior with the words "boner pill by dado" written on it. |
"{{Poor human}}," crooned the... thing, Barney guessed, in a soothing echo across the back of his mind. "{{You must be shocked. Well}}-" |
> **Sarah:** ... So are you ready to do stuff? Oh wait— so, you may be wondering why I'm actually up this early... maybe not, but... I basically have a surprise for you. Wait here, it's almost done. |
> **SCP-3965:** Pass on what you have learned. Ensure that our songs reach the next generation. Our father will never truly die as long as his songs reverberate in our hearts. Never forget the wonder in a child's eye. It is the flame within, fueled by the beauty of all things in the cosmos. Let your children, and their children, and their children see the wonder in your eyes. Let them see the love. |
> //Mrs. Miles continues attempting to open the door, and quickly attempts to break down the door.// |
**Special Containment Procedures:** SCP-051 and SCP-051-A are to be kept in a sealed containment facility. SCP-051-A is kept within a locked, climate-controlled document box with a viewing window, to prevent degradation of its material. Any personnel (with the exception of pregnant or non-sterile female personnel, who might not be aware of an early-stage pregnancy) may access SCP-051 as long as a request is placed before-hand and cleared by site administration. |
**Addendum:** On January 14th, 2021, Dodge City was evacuated due to a dangerous system of anomalous tornados caused by SCP-████. SCP-4753 then breached containment, expanding outwards at an accelerating rate. Due to continued severe storms, all attempts to reach SCP-███ failed, despite numerous attempts to contact it through nearby Foundation/███ Organization satellites or satellites stationed outside the anomaly's primary zone. All personnel from Cryptography Task Force 4753-08 initially reported being able to enter the containment chamber safely and attempted to take samples, until they were sucked into SCP-4753 without warning. Before communication equipment failed, several reported being dragged towards the solid center. |
Given that these were free-form answers and people were able to give detailed responses, we can't provide a full breakdown outside of filtering the blanks. That said, the responses generally fell into the following categories: |
> //"Wherever you are, Mr. DeVorn, you ought to get down on your knees and thank God Almighty that the Foundation has changed. Because back in my day? This story wouldn't end with some sort of — some sort of fucking 'inquiry'. It would end with you in an orange jump-suit, thrown into the deepest, darkest hole we could find."// |
**P-7 Rainer:** Alright. Do you want to leave and re-enter the building through the portal, or continue down the tunnel? |
The D-class. You're going to feel bad for the D-class, you really are. They're all terrible people, but they're still people. You'll patch up the spine snappings, and the lacerations of the throat. You'll remove rock candy from mucus membranes, and send them back to have it done to them again. This is horrifying, yes? No, it's your job now. The Foundation runs on, whether we like it to or not, and we are the ones who keep it on its feet. Not the researchers, not even the containment staff. We do. Without us, everything would go to hell around here. |
“Sure,” said Clef. “Not like I was getting work done anyway. I've got the fucking Class-D duty this month. Got to figure out who gets how many and for what. And lucky me, Jackie boy got himself shot in the head and fucked it all up. Of course, he was in charge of it last month, so it’s already fucked up.” |
> **Taylor:** Yes sir. Dr. Malcolm here will act as the final word on this matter, but most of the discussion will be between us four. We're going to try to keep this on-topic and to the point. |
The others realized where her hand was going . The officer drew his gun. Kazia pleaded and turned away. Odetka begged, and shut her eyes a fraction too late. Tolek remained curled up on the street, as if a bomb was coming for him. |
“That the Church of the Broken God inducted the dog catcher just in case the Foundation sent sapient canines to spy on them? It was my first suspicion.” |
One of them raised their hand up, covering the other's mouth. "**I** am Sen. You can be... I dunno, Clo-sen." |
Once fully integrated, SCP-5950 instances will consume food and water using the host's mouth, excreting waste from the same orifice. The SCP-5950's host will walk backward in a quadrupedal position, with their posterior held in an upwards orientation so that their anal eye is facing the direction of motion. While possessing a host, an SCP-5950 instance's average lifespan is approximately 20 years, remaining in the same host for the duration of its life. |
And with that, the woman named Janet brought an awkwardly stuffed squirrel dressed as a military serviceman into her home to hold a single pen on her desk. No one in her household would question it, despite it standing out from all the rest of her decorations. No one except for out of town guests who were still too polite to actually question it but would raise eyebrows about it and steal a picture of it to post online later. The powers that be couldn't stop everyone in existence from thinking some elements of this were odd. |
> This indicates a possible psychological inlet into SCP-076-2's mind, and a possible control mechanism. Given the massive drain on resources SCP-076-2 causes due to its escape attempts, and considering Bowe Commission's stated desire to weaponize SCP objects for tactical purposes, I recommend that we pursue this course of action as soon as possible. |
> //**2.5 hours of extraneous recording edited for brevity, including a sing-a-long and a meditation session.**// |
# Entries can be as long or as short as you want, stretching over multiple articles or centered on a single page. |
Dr. Hopper raised his hand to interject. "We've been moving away from the human-like approach for a while now. The Foundation needs a cold and dispassionate AI as much as we need human based problem solving." |
Trying to convince me this is all real. Am I convincing myself? I hate that I'm so confused all the time. |
"Fucking- no, holy shit how have you not seen any of his movies," Finnegan said, hands hanging in the air. The clay statue that Aldon had produced stood before him, but he was not particularly moved. |
> //The man holding the snake begins waving it around above his head. Video feed begins to distort. Camera remains fixed on snake handler.// |