Back then, I'd been able to sleep at night, every night, regularly, 
instead of falling into fitful patches of restless slumber at disjointed 
times, and I'd been asleep when she first showed up. | was awoken 
by a soft, almost polite knocking, so soft that at first | got up and 
went to the door, looking out into the silent hallway. When | went to 
return to bed, | saw her. Standing on nothing, fourteen floors up, her 
dress blowing in the wind, one hand knocking on the glass like a 
door, the other waving as | saw her, beckoning, a friendly gesture. 
I've read stories in my lifetime of creatures and spirits that knock on 
windows at night, of vampires who can only enter a home if the 
owner answers the door. | knew (or thought | knew) the risks. | went 
out into the living room and tossed and turned on the couch, hoping 
she'd be gone by morning. 


And she was, but she was back the next night, and the night after 
that, and the night after that, knocking, calling silently to me, 
promising wordlessly that she could change my life, make it better. 
Eventually, | covered the window, trying to ignore her, hoping 
normalcy would return, but no. It never did. It never will. 


So here | am, looking down, looking away, looking anywhere but at 
that window, shaking with desperate desire to look out, to open it, to 


let her in, and knowing with every fiber of my being how desperately 
wrong it would be. I've held out this long, but as | sink deeper into 
myself, | know that soon, soon, I'll walk to that window, and with 
shaking hands I'll tear down the barrier, and I'll reach for the latch... 


Fuck that. Tomorrow, I'm buying a gun. No one will miss me 
anyway. 


Orgy 5 Counsel 9: XXXK End of Virginity Scenario 


"Tymantha Gones." 


Tymantha Gones sat in a flimsy plastic chair. She was surrounded 
by eleven people sitting by ornate podiums, surrounding her in a 
semicircle, and looking down at her with cruel glares. A spotlight 
shone down from the ceiling, making her skin uncomfortably moist. 
One podium, to her right, stood notably empty. After a moment of 
paper shuffling, a shrill female voice spoke. 


"We of the O05 Council find you guilty of participating in exactly three 
deviant acts within the last two weeks. There is undeniable evidence 
of your engagement in hand-holding, eskimo kisses, and hugging." 


The woman paused to allow the horror to sink in before continuing. 


"This is clearly and obviously unbecoming of a member of the 
Sexual Conservatism Protectorate. As such, the O5 Council has 
voted, 11-1, to henceforth revoke your credentials and remove you 
from the organization proper. You may now have one minute to 
respond to this judgement as you see fit." 


Tymantha had only one thing to say. 


"Man, this is such balls." 


After leaving the Hall of Judgement, Tymantha Gones, formerly 
05-9, struggled to keep her composure as she walked through the 
streets of Site-19. 


The strategically placed oscillating fans that would typically provide 
her hair with supernatural volume on her walks instead only 
highlighted the unsightly twinge her appearance had taken since the 
ruling. Her tan skin, usually flawless, was marred by a luminous 
sheen of sweat, and her eye makeup had become smudged and 


slightly asymmetrical. 


As she neared her apartment complex in Ketertown, she spotted a 
familiar face attempting to scale the gutter, his hair, black with 
streaks of white, illuminated in the fresh moonlight. 


"Oh, hey, Ty," the climbing boy shouted. "I came to, like, ask if... you 
know, with all the information getting out, are we, like, a thing now?" 


Tymantha shouted a reply. "OH MY GOD, COLIN, GO AWAY." 


"Yeah, okay," he said as he plummeted from the side of the building, 
landing several stories below in an open dumpster, filled with bags 
of Dr. Kain's soft sheddings. "I'll be here if you need me." 


She ignored him and entered the building, bypassing the slick, white 
decor of the lobby and heading directly up the stairs to her studio 
apartment. 


Once there, she sat down on her comfy plush chair. Normally, the 
bigfoot-leather padding would calm her down, but she felt nothing 
but deep sadness and resignation as her head sank limply to the 
side. "Uuuuurghh," she said. One thin hand reached out to the 
modest every-wood coffee table placed tastefully to her right. She 
grabbed a picture frame, and brought it to her face as the table 
sprouted a duplicate frame in its place. 


The picture was of a beautiful, Anne-Hathaway-esque woman, 
clutching an equally attractive infant. This picture was taken twenty- 
three years ago on a day very important to Tymantha: her birth. 


She sank deeper into the armchair as the memories came flooding 
back. 


Tymantha was never like the other girls; she was born with a deep 
secret. She was a Type-Orange, born of a virgin mother and 
bestowed with the strange and terrible ability to control sexual 
deviancy with her mind. 


Originally, it seemed Tymantha was set on a course for evil, but 
when her mother was killed not hours later by agents of the One- 
eyed-Serpent's Hand, Tymantha steeled her resolve, and decided to 


use her abilities for good. 


With her powers harnessed, she founded the Sexual Conservatism 
Protectorate, using her abilities to clean the world of sexual deviancy 
and unwholesome personal contact. Tymantha opted for the O5-9 
position, because she felt it would be unfair to the other 
councilpersons to take O5-1. 


The Sexual Conservatism Protectorate was wildly successful for the 
next two decades, fighting foul Groups of Intercourse like Herman 
Fuller's Circus of Debauchery, Hermaphroditus Labs, GRU Division 
"Penis", and Are We Chaste Yet?. 


All across the world, metropolises formed and flourished. Site-19. 
Site-30. The entirety of Texas. However, there still existed a single 
pocket of misery within Site-19, centered solely on Tymantha, as 
she began to weep for a mother lost so long ago. 


After a few hours, her misery was interrupted by a sudden knock on 
her door. 


She poked her nose through the crack she pried open. "Yeah?" 
Three large men were outside. "Uh, yeah, Tee-why-man-thuh?" 
She decided to open the door fully. "This is she, whassup?" 


The man in front seemed to be dragging a luggage cart behind him. 
Staggered further back still, the other men were holding cardboard 
boxes, outstretched. "Yeah, we're, uh, here to move you." 


"Move me? What." 


"You uh, you can't, like... just live on-site when you're fired. We were 
ordered to move you to a standard containment villa in Paris until 
your situation gets sorted out." He scratched his neck, not looking 
her in the eye. He must be nervous. Or... wait a moment... 


Tymantha nodded, slowly backing into the room. "Oh, yeah, I'll start 
getting my stuff packed... I'm just wondering, though..." 


The man in front raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?" 


"Why would they send agents of the Clit Insurgency to help me 
move out?" 


The man's eyes opened wide in surprise, just for a split second. 
Then he lunged for her. She sidestepped him, backing into her 
reading room, careful to not trip over any ornate rugs while 
backpedaling. 


As the other two thugs rushed into the room, she ran past her chair 
towards the window, stopping to overturn the coffee table just in 
front of her pursuer's legs. Her assailants began to multiply, forming 
a confused and immobile heap on top of the table. With a running 
start, she leaped through the window, glass shattering all around 
her... 


...and landed, forty stories below, in a dumpster filled with dog hair, 
next to a very confused teen. "Oh, hi, Ty," Colin said. She ignored 
him, gracefully climbing out and setting off down the street. 


The streets of Site-19 were almost unrecognizable from all the terror 
that streamed forth along their gutters. It was the Protectorate's 
greatest nightmare, come to life in front of her. An utter and 
complete Chastity Breach. 


She saw beasts, lurking in the shadows. The Hard to Turn-Off 
Reptile. The Boogie Plague Doctor. The Flesh that Mates. 


"| should've known," Tymantha thought to herself. "The Clit 
Insurgency were going to ambush me, take me out of commission 
so that the SCP could fail in my absence. | must put a stop to this 
before everything spirals out of control." 


First, she must go to the O5 Council and convince them to rescind 
their metaphorical embargo on help from Tymantha Gones. Then, 
she would need to go to the Site-19 nuclear reactor facility, and 
detonate this city before the degeneracy spread to the entire 
continent. 


The skies were red with blood, and the night wrought with screams, 
as she approached the looming Hall of Judgement, seat of the O5 
Council. As she approached the main conference hall, her resolve 
began to falter as she heard the unmistakable sound of squelching 
flesh. 


She peered around the corner, and could barely keep from shrieking 
in horror as she observed the eleven-backed beast that had once 
been the O5 Council. Elderly skin ground against elderly skin in a 
vaguely choreographed undulation. 


Okay, okay, she can fix this. She can use her powers to leech away 
their horrid urges, and restore them to the boring councilpersons 
that they were before. But... they would always be haunted by the 
memory of what had transpired on this fateful day. Would she 
subject them to that? 


"No," Tymantha thought as she pulled the switch and activated the 
contingency flamethrowers integrated into the Council chairs. "This 
is what they would have wanted." 


And she strode out of the now-burning Hall of Judgement, as quickly 
as she had entered. 


Once she was out in the open, she searched for the nearest storm 
drain, which was now flowing with all sorts of horrific fluids. Minding 
the sludge, she slipped limberly down into the normally-pristine 
sewer system, landing on a mesh walkway. Using the maps placed 
for ease of navigation for tourists, she quickly charted a course to 
the Site-19 nuclear reactor and set off. 


The reactor was an imposing structure; The massive, cylindrical 
chamber was focused on a smaller cylinder in the very center. Eight 
symmetrical walkways stretched from this central cylinder, 
connecting it across the abyss to the surrounding walls. The central 
cylinder itself let out a dull glow... and one specific data panel, set 
apart from the cylinder, would be the primer to set the whole thing to 
blow. 


Tymantha started to set across the long walkway, but there was 


something in her way. A familiar face. 


"Oh, hey," said Colin, the green light reflecting off his bone-white 
hair, with streaks of jet black. 


Tymantha stopped walking, stunned in sheer puzzlement. "Colin? 
Get out of here. | have to arm the self-destruct." 


He tilted his head. "Yeah, but, why?" 


"| gotta destroy the epicenter of the breach, Colin. We can get out 
while the timer ticks down, and then | can deal with the sexual fallout 
before things get too bad." 


"Is that really what you think you're doing?" Colin's voice had 
changed. "That's adorable." 


"Whats going on, Colin? You're..." Realization dawned upon her. 
"You're with the Clit Insurgency!" 


He didn't seem to notice what she'd said. "You've been thinking 
about this all wrong, Ty. The breach didn't happen because you 
weren't there to prevent it. Ty. You are the breach." 


Horror crossed Tymantha's face. "What? What do you mean?" 


He started to close the gap between them. "You were born with all 
this sexual energy, and you just kept it pent up for twenty-three 
years?" 


He was right in front of her. "It was so easy to get you to just let it all 
out. All you needed was a few, say... eskimo kisses?" 


She felt the sting of betrayal deep in her heart. "You... you bastard." 


Colin shook his head, his smile only growing. "All | did was help you 
discover your true nature. Now, why don't you embrace your calling? 
Hug me, one more time." He spread his arms, and closed his eyes. 


Tymantha huffed in place, desperately trying to catch her breath. 
Her mind was racing, and no brakes could work to slow it down. But, 
suddenly, she felt calm. 


Slowly, she stepped forwards, wrapping her arms around her white- 
haired other half. 


Serene, Tymantha whispered three sylvan words into his ear. 
"Get dunked on." 


With that, she pulled with all her might, sweeping Colin off his feet 
and tossing him to the side. He impacted the railing, and flipped over 
it, spinning head over heels as he fell into the glowing abyss. 


Tymantha stood and watched, clutching the railing tightly. She 
straightened her back, and looked at the end of the walkway. 


The console. 


She raced towards the glowing pillar, the final cog in the nuclear 
reactor that kept Site-19 running. She started to punch in the 
countdown codes on the console, until she had a thought. 


"If what he said was true," she said to herself, words echoing in the 
lonely reactor. "Site-19 isn't the problem. | am." 


She thought about her mother, who had made her sacrifice so many 
years ago to ensure a Safe, platonic future for all of humanity. 


And then Tymantha walked into the radioactive glow. 


Three days later... 


Site-19 had existed in a dull state of acceptance for the days since 
the incident. Many people were left scarred, but they knew their lives 
would continue in friendly, platonic bliss. And they knew their hero 
had sacrificed herself for their well-being. And that she would not be 
forgotten. 


But there was a void in the city. And naught to fill it. 
Although... 


Three hundred meters below the remains of the Hall of 


Judgement, a familiar figure stepped out from a glowing 
pillar. Her hair was still slightly twinged, but her face was 
smiling. 


Tymantha Gones, currently 05-9, stepped into the light, 
practically radiating with platonic energy. 


And boy, were there things to do. 


Setting: 1:1 
Output: 2 £5 notes, both from the same year as the 
input. 


Input: 1 (One) £10 note 
Setting: 1:1 
Output: €11.60 


Note: This was, on the day of the test, almost equal to 
the value of the money used as an input. 


Name: Researcher Mason 

Date: 26/5/2017 

Total Items: 4 LEGO X-wing starfighter construction 
sets, unopened 


Input: 1 LEGO X-wing starfighter construction set, 
unopened 

Setting: Rough 

Output: A heap of molten plastic, wood pulp, and 
various inks 


Input: 1 LEGO X-wing starfighter construction set, 
unopened 

Setting: 1:1 

Output: 1 LEGO TIE fighter construction set, unopened 


Input: 1 LEGO X-wing starfighter construction set, 
unopened 

Setting: Fine 

Output: A fully assembled LEGO X-wing. Upon further 
examination, various mechanisms and devices were 
discovered inside the X-wing, such as electronically 
operated landing gear, wings, lights, and canopy. 


Input: 1 LEGO X-wing star fighter construction set, 
unopened 

Setting: Very Fine 

Output: X-wing flew out of Output booth at 72 km/h and 
shot heated plasma at any personnel in its way, resulting 


Oricha's Folly 


GlobalizedMan(niaP.dn|msimisseP#niaP.dn|msimisseP) has joined 
#augmentedandproud 


<GlobalizedMan> GUYS. 

<SoThenMyDad> Dude, tag that as NSFW. 

<Malachite> Seriously. | did not need that in my memory banks. 
<SolitarySpider> .g C++ Sacrifice 

<RouterBot> SolitarySpider: No results found 

<SolitarySpider> fuck. tell OpenWindow her bot's broken /again/. 
<GlobalizedMan> GUYS! 

<SolitarySpider> Hey globe. wassup? 

<GlobalizedMan> Horrors 17. Look it up. 

<InaneJane> what, Orichalcum? waht about it? 

<SolitarySpider> DUDE. Do not invoke Horrors in here. RouterBot 
crashed the whole fucking chat last time with people searching for 
Horrors 25. 

<GlobalizedMan> They found some.