Description: SCP-3170 is Yuliana Cahaya, an Indonesian actress 
born in 1953 who starred in seventeen films prior to her 
disappearance in 1979. SCP-3170 is biologically non-anomalous, 
and has been diagnosed with narcolepsy and retrograde amnesia. 


SCP-3170's anomalous property activates whenever she dies. At 
the moment of death, her body is replaced such that it appears an 
unidentified individual of similar appearance to SCP-3170 (hereby 
SCP-3170') died in an identical manner. SCP-3170 will appear from 
a nearby unobserved space a short time afterwards, alive and 
unharmed. 


SCP-3170 is aware of the time lost as a result of her death and 
reappearance, but believes this is due to her medical condition. She 
claims the events she remembers leading up to her death are 
hypnagogic hallucinations, and refuses to accept evidence to the 
contrary. 


Addendum: Foundation agents infiltrating local anartist groups in 
Aceh recovered a cache of items relating to SCP-3170 and her 
career collated by a high-ranking member of one of these 
movements. These items included several unreleased films, scrapes 
of SCP-3170's tissue and photographs of it on-set. The curator of 
this cache claimed a woman named 'Lena Xio' had donated these 
items to her, and that the exhibition was being held to commemorate 


her death. 


Indonesian government records identified a Ms. Xio matching the 
curator's description as having died in 1982 shortly after SCP-3170's 
reappearance. Exhuming her body showed that its stomach had 
been stuffed with approximately 150 meters of Super 8mm footage 
of SCP-3170; portions of the film had been replaced with corneal 
tissue matching that of SCP-3170. 


When questioned about Ms. Xio, SCP-3170 stated that she was 'a 
very giving... a deeply loving friend’, but failed to recall more specific 
information due to its amnesia. 


SCP-3171: How the Foundation Came to Operate a 
Phone Sex Hotline 


Item #: SCP-3171 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: The savanna where all known 
instances of SCP-3171 reside is to remain under Foundation 
ownership. Cameras are to be hidden within the perimeter and 
monitored 24/7 by security guards. Thirty remotely-controlled 
omnidirectional speakers should be placed throughout the property. 


Researchers should visit instances of SCP-3171 weekly to collect 
any sacs of fluid that have accumulated within the fruit-like growths 
at the base. Care must be taken to maintain as little physical contact 
as possible during this procedure, as excessive contact often leads 
to rudeness and irritability on the part of SCP-3171. 


Description: SCP-3171 is an achlorophylous plant from the genus 
Hydnora. A typical instance of SCP-3171 will have stalks measuring 
4-5 meters with four fruitlike growths surrounding the stalk. Lifespan 
ranges between 2.5-3.5 years. Each instance of SCP-3171 is 
sapient with intelligence roughly comparable to the average human. 
SCP-3171 have evolved the ability to rapidly perform mathematical 
calculations; researchers have observed instances multiplying 90- 
digit numbers in 1-2 seconds. 


SCP-3171 communicate by opening and snapping shut the 
appendages out of which the fruitlike growths at the base of each 
plant are made. This produces a clicking sound; information is 
embedded into time differences between successive Clicks. 


SCP-3171 reproduce by releasing spores in the air. To date, the 
only place where these spores have taken root is the ~9,000m2 
savanna on the northeast side of the Zambezi Nature Preserve. 
Efforts by the Foundation to grow SCP-3171 elsewhere have met 


with failure. 


There are currently 457 known instances of SCP-3171. Different 
instances of SCP-3171 are referred to by attaching a number 
ranging between 1-457 to the SCP designation. 


Discovery: SCP-3171 was discovered when Prof. Lachlan White 
from the University of Auckland placed an .mp3 file containing 
twenty hours of ambient sounds from a recent trip to the Zambezi 
preserve on his webpage. A statistical analysis by a student in one 
of Prof. White's classes detected a pseudorandom component to the 
pattern of audible clicks within the file. This observation was posted 
to a public listserv where it came to the attention of Foundation 
personnel. Amnestics were administered to all involved after it was 
determined that the pseudorandomness in question was part of an 
organically produced Diffie-Hellman key exchange’. 


A team of researchers was assembled by the Foundation and flown 
to Zambezi to study SCP-3171 in its natural habitat. Over the next 9 
months, an automatic translation program for SCP-3171 
communications was developed?, as well as software for converting 
English text into a series of clicks comprehensible to instances of 
SCP-3171. Speakers were installed within the savanna where 
SCP-3171 resides in preparation for first contact. 


Interaction Log: First contact occurred on the evening of 
09/08/1997 when Dr. Auden Green, a Foundation employee who 
had recently completed a thesis on Icelandic verse, ignored 
instructions from his superiors and communicated directly with 
SCP-3171. 


It had been previously discovered that instances of SCP-3171 spent 
the vast majority of their time composing something akin to poetry; 
this discovery led to the addition of several team members with 
literary backgrounds, Dr. Green among them. The poetry composed 
by instances of SCP-3171 typically consists of persistent repetition 
of a small number of words in apparently nonsensical order. When a 
bout of food poisoning left Dr. Green alone at the observation post, 
he used the opportunity to interject himself into a conversation 
between instances of SCP-3171 and broadcast a poem of his own 
creations. 


+ Transcript of Dr. Green's conversation with SCP-3171. 


SCP-3171-234: Moon Sun Moon. 
Moon Sun Moon. 
Moon Moon Darkness. 


There is a pause lasting approximately three 
seconds, followed by applause. 


SCP-3171-446: Sun Sun Moon. 
Moon Sun Sun. 
Moon Darkness Moon. 


Another pause lasting approximately three 
seconds, followed by lighter applause. 


Dr. Green: Sun Moon Moon. 
Sun Moon Moon. 
Darkness Darkness Moon. 


There is a pause lasting approximately fifteen 
seconds. 


SCP-3171-053: That is literally the dumbest 
thing I’ve ever heard. 


After learning of Dr. Green’s unauthorized communication, Dr. Wang 
(head of the linguistics team stationed at Zambezi) made a more 
formal attempt at an interspecies greeting. 


+ Transcript of Dr. Wang's conversation with SCP-3171 


Dr. Wang: We are animals. We speak your 
language. 


Dr. Wang: But we are not like the animals that 
roam your grounds. Like you, we have evolved 
intelligence. Understanding. Self-awareness. 


Dr. Wang: We wish to talk. Exchange ideas. 
Interact. 


SCP-403: Escalating Lighter 


Item #: SCP-403 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-403 is to be sealed in a 
steel safe with a combination known only by Dr. . The walls 
of the safe must be reinforced with fire-retardant material complying 
with Foundation standard C3/403. The safe will remain under 
surveillance by 2 armed guards at all times. 


Description: SCP-403 is a visually unremarkable naptha-fueled 
lighter that was discovered in a cafeteria at Site- . When lit once 
after a prolonged period of disuse, SCP-403 produces an ordinary 
flame. However, if ignited repeatedly within 24 hours the flame 
produced by SCP-403 becomes larger and more violent in nature 
with each subsequent ignition. 


During an experiment a Class-D test subject attempted to light 
SCP-403 a third time within two hours, resulting in a powerful 
explosion of superheated gas and plasma. This event destroyed the 
monitoring equipment within the testing cell, and caused significant 
damage to the flame-resistant plating lining the walls. Despite this, 
the subject and the item itself remained virtually unharmed. Radio- 
imaging has shown the formation of a magnetic field around the 
lighter, which is hypothesized by researchers to be the cause of this 
immunity. 


The fuel used by SCP-403 to produce the detonations is not known 
as of yet, if any conventional fuel is used at all. Examination of the 
item shows that the fuel compartment within SCP-403 is empty; no 
traces of any combustible compound have been found. Considering 
this, and the amount of energy initiations are capable of producing, 
SCP-403 should currently be treated as if using a functionally 
inexhaustible power supply. Tests to ascertain the exact nature of 
this power source are ongoing. 


There is approximately a minute of private 
communications among instances of 
SCP-3171. 


SCP-3171-128: Cloud and Earth. Wind and 
Sun. Blue and Red. 


Dr. Wang: | don’t understand. Can you 
explain? 


SCP-3171-003: Violent Sunset. Peaceful Sky. 
Heat. Life. 


SCP-3171-232: Seventeen. Twenty Three. 
Thirty Seven. Four. 


Dr. Wang: | don’t understand. 


An additional minute is spent by instances of 
SCP-3171 in private conversation. 


SCP-3171-241: Animal, say something 
valuable. 


SCP-3171-033: Animal, tell us a poem. 


After a silence of approximately 15 seconds, 
Dr. Wang broadcasts the first stanza of 
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s poem, Patience 
Taught by Nature. 


Dr. Wang: “Oh Dreary life!” we cry, “O dreary 
life!” 

And still the generations of the birds 

Sing through our sighing, and the flocks and 
herds 

Serenely live while we are keeping strife 
With Heaven’s true purpose in us, as a knife 
Against which we struggle. 


Dr. Wang’s recitation is followed by 
approximately 90 seconds of silence. 


SCP-3171-341: Strange. 

Dr. Wang: Would you like to hear more? 
SCP-3171-341: No. 

SCP-3171-241: No. 


For a period of roughly two years after the conversation with Dr. 
Wang, attempts by the Foundation to communicate with SCP-3171 
were met with silence. 


Foundation interest in SCP-3171 increased dramatically after 
discovery that fluid sacs occasionally secreted within the fruitlike 
growths of SCP-3171 can be used in the production of amnestics. 
The anatomical purpose of these secretions is unknown. Numerous 
messages proposing mutually beneficent trade terms were 
broadcast to SCP-3171 without response. 


Since the Foundation's botanical experts were uncertain as to 
whether they could compel SCP-3171 to produce the desired fluid 
sacs by force, coercive approaches were temporarily ruled out. 
Instead, a team of internationally acclaimed poets was employed to 
produce works inspired by translations of SCP-3171 utterances. It 
was believed that SCP-3171 did not consider communication with 
humanity worthwhile and that the production of a poem considered 
meaningful by SCP-3171 would change that. However, poetry 
produced by this team failed to elicit any response from SCP-3171. 
Parallel attempts to produce poems using machine learning 
protocols did not fare any better. 


Foundation efforts met with their first success at 3:30 AM 
11/12/1999, when Mr. Cullen Williams, a junior researcher assigned 
to the botanical team, attempted to communicate with SCP-3171 in 
a state of inebriation9. 


+ Transcript of Mr. Williams' conversation with SCP-3171 
Mr. Williams: Is this thing on? 


Mr. Williams is heard fumbling with the dials 
for the first two minutes of the recording. 


Mr. Williams: Yo SCPs! How's it hangin’, my 
dawgs?6 


Mr. Williams: Well, here | am... housesitting a 
fucking plant. 


Mr. Williams: Not what | thought I'd be doing 
at this point in my life. 


Mr. Williams: Alice is gonna to be so pissed 
when she finds out I'm broadcasting. 


Mr. Williams giggles for approximately 10 
seconds. 


Mr. Williams: Serves her right. 


Mr. Williams: Women. | sure know how to 
pick em. 


There is a pause lasting approximately 40 
seconds. 


Mr. Williams: Thanksgiving's not that far. 


Mr. Williams: Can't wait to go home and leave 
all this bullshit for a while. 


Mr. Williams: | miss Frosty's. Little ice cream 
place across the street from where | grew up. 
Do you shrubs even know what ice cream is? 


Mr. Williams: Probably not. 
Mr. Williams: Frooooooosties! 
Mr. Williams giggles briefly. 
Mr. Williams: Ah, good times. 


Mr. Williams: The gunk they call ice cream 
here is some kind of wet slop. 


Mr. Williams: Frosty's gives you a bowl. 
Chocolate, vanilla, caramel, espresso. | always 
get the biggest size to share with mom. 


Mr. Williams' soliloquy is interrupted by the 
rhythmic sound of clicking coming from over 
350 instances of SCP-3171’. 


SCP-3171-123: Disgusting. 
SCP-3171-403: Unconscious animal. 
SCP-3171-102: Whore. 

SCP-3171-067: [TRANSLATION ERRORJ8. 


Upon learning of this exchange the following morning, site leaders 
(Dr. Wang and Mr. Jackson, head of the botany division) were 
surprised to see approximately one-hundred attempts at private 
communication from instances of SCP-3171 logged during the 
previous night. Mr. Jackson conducted the ensuing investigation 
which revealed that: 


1. Although instances of SCP-3171 share liquids via networks of 
interlacing root structures, in the unlikely event that one of its 
own spores takes root close by, an instance of SCP-3171 will 
refuse to share liquids with it. 

2. Exceptions to the previous item occur exceedingly rarely, and 
only by instances located at the far edges of the savanna 
disconnected from the main component of the root structure. 


It is conjectured that the act of sharing sustenance with family 
members has the nature of a sexual taboo among SCP-3171. While 
all instances of SCP-3171 express disgust at the notion publicly (as 
when Mr. Williams mentioned sharing a bowl of ice cream with his 
mother), in private many of them will request to hear detailed 
accounts of such “incestuous” encounters by Foundation personnel. 


Building on these insights, Mr. Jackson developed a protocol for 
one-on-one interaction with instances of SCP-3171. 


+ Transcript of Mr. Jackson's private conversation with SCP-3171-213 


SCP-3171-213: Have you committed incest 
recently? 


Mr. Jackson: Maybe. 

SCP-3171-213: Tell me. 

Mr. Jackson: Two sacks. 

SCP-3171-213: Yes. Tell me. 

Mr. Jackson: Changed my mind. Four sacks. 
SCP-3171-213: No. 

SCP-3171-213: Unconscious animal. 

There is a pause of approximately 30 seconds. 
SCP-3171-213: All right. Four. Tell me. 


Mr. Jackson: | had dinner with my sister last 
week. 


SCP-3171-213: Oooh! 


Mr. Jackson: We shared a milkshake, taking 
turns sipping from the same straw. 


SCP-3171-213: You mud-stained whore. 


SCP-3171-213: | bet you always exchange 
fluids at first rainfall. 


Mr. Jackson: Indeed, that is me. Whenever it 
rains, | make my way around the 
neighborhood, fluid exchange foremost on my 
mind. 


Mr. Jackson: In any case, the milkshake was 


delicious. Both | and my sister greatly enjoyed 
sharing it. 


SCP-3171-213: Aaahh! 


Video imagery of SCP-3171-213 shows it 
releasing spores coincident with the final 
utterance. Four sacks of fluid were collected 
by Mr. Jackson the following day. 


As of 1/1/2015, the Foundation employs 87 personnel to interact 
with SCP-3171 according to Mr. Jackson's protocol, generating 
approximately 400 kg of SCP-3171 secretions per annum. 


+ Addendum: Dr. Wang's Petition 


To the overseer council: our approach towards 
SCP-3171 is patently unethical. The "services" we 
render in exchange for fluid sacs are an affront to human 
(as well as plant) dignity. Foundation resources should 
be reallocated to research into the value system and 
poetry of SCP-3171. — Dr. Wang 


Alice: out of all the morally questionable stuff we do here, 
this one isn’t in the top hundred that keep me up at night. 
Denied. O5- 


Footnotes