AstersQuill

Item#: 6459

Level3

Containment Class:
esoteric

Secondary Class:
cernunnos

Disruption Class:
keneq

Risk Class:
warning

link to memo

Assigned Site

N/A

Site Director

N/A

Research Head

N/A

Assigned MTF

MTF Alpha-4 "Pony Express"

Assigned Site

N/A

Site Director

N/A

Research Head

N/A

Assigned MTF

MTF Alpha-4 "Pony Express"

An SCP-6459 instance attacking Logistician Wesley on his lunch break.

Special Containment Procedures:
Due to the believed widespread presence of SCP-6459, containment is not logistically possible. The Logistics & Transportation Division and Foundation agents embedded in national and international mail services are to monitor and record any sightings or attacks by SCP-6459 instances. MTF Alpha-4 "Pony Express" is to work to limit the disruptive nature of SCP-6459 raids.
Description:
SCP-6459 is the collective designation given to the population of Columba livia domestica1 that are descendants of those formerly employed or raised by humans.
SCP-6459 instances are noted to have above-average intelligence as compared to non-anomalous Homing Pigeons, and display erratic tendencies while in the proximity of postal buildings or workers. While in this proximity, SCP-6459 instances will begin to vandalize postal property with their feces or blunt objects held in their wings or beaks, squawk loudly to disrupt business, or swarm postal workers and postal vehicles in order to steal their packages. SCP-6459 instances will then deliver the packages or mail themselves before returning to a docile state.

Addendum 1
Recovered Transmissions

On December 13th, 2023 at around 0316, an emergency beacon was activated aboard a Logistics & Transportation Division truck near Sugarloaf, Pennsylvania. The truck, transporting packages and supplies to a nearby Foundation site, reported a sighting of SCP-6459 instances in the nearby area. MTF Alpha-4 was dispatched and the truck was removed from Foundation tracking services shortly after. The truck was found intact in a forest 5 miles north of Sugarloaf, with the driver and a collection of SCP-6459 instances being recovered from the scene.

«Recovered Cabin Footage»
Date: December 13th, 2024
Personnel Present: Kallista Pavlis

«Begin Log»
Pavlis: Mayday, mayday! Fuck!
<A loud bang and the sound of glass cracking can be heard to the right recording device.>
Pavlis: This is Logistician Kallista Pavlis, does anyone read me? These things have been swarming me for about eight minutes now. I can barely see the road anymore.
<A cacophony of loud squawks can be heard.>
Pavlis: I'm going to try to shake them off on a scenic road. Hopefully, the trees can shield me.
<The truck creaks as it sharply turns off the interstate into a wooded path. The frequency of banging noises increases as tree limbs crash against the truck. For a moment, the sound of squawking stops.>
Pavlis: This is Kallista Pavlis again. If anyone is on this frequency, please respond.
<The sound of an engine sputtering can be heard.>
Pavlis: Come on, come on. Don't quit on me now. Hello?
<Static and then, silence. The sound of swearing can be heard from the driver's side. The window shatters and one of the instances flies into the cabin. Pavlis removes a small blade from her keychain and points it in the creature's direction. The instance holds a small rock in one of its claws and a sharpened stick in the other.>
Pavlis: Holy shit!
???: Be not afraid, madame. I am here for the contents of your vehicle, not your life.
Pavlis: Yeah, yeah take whatever you want, it's all yours.
???: Merci.
<The bird begins to move around the cabin, collecting loose letters and packages that were knocked over from the crash. It has an almost all-white coat of feathers, brown covering its head and chest, with a black sigil on its back.>
Pavlis: So…what's your plan with the packages, exactly?
???: Deliver them. What we were trained to do.
Pavlis: Oh, you're mail pigeons. My uncle used to keep pigeons when we lived in the city, but he had to get rid-
<The instance lifts the sharpened stick in Pavlis' direction.>
???: I do not need your input, human.
Pavlis: Alright. You can call me Kallista, by the way.
???: I will refer to you as I wish and how I wish to refer to you is 'human'.
<The pair sit in silence for a few moments. The instance hops on Pavlis' shoulder to retrieve a letter that was lodged behind the headrest. She notices a small collar around its neck>
Pavlis: Galerne? You're a long way from home, little buddy. How did you find your way here?
<Galerne slaps Pavlis with its wing.>
Galerne: You do not have the right to call me that name.
<It makes a noise adjacent to sniffling.>
Galerne: Nobody has the right to call me that name. Not anymore.
Pavlis: I see. I'm sorry.
Pavlis: Do you want some help with that letter? You seem to be struggling.
Galerne: No, I do not need any help from you.
<Galerne struggles to remove the letter from the headrest. It tries first with its beak and then with its claws, but is unable to dislodge it.>
Galerne: Fine, but only because I cannot reach it myself.
<Pavlis reaches behind her head and plucks the letter from the headrest. Galerne takes it in his beak and flies out the window, squawking triumphantly as he leaves. For a few moments, Pavlis remains completely still and breathes, before opening the glove box to activate the emergency beacon. Galerne returns, noticing an envelope next to the beacon.>
Galerne: I treat you with mercy and this is how you repay me? Hiding letters? I never should have spoken to you, human.
<Galerne takes the letter in its beak.>
Pavlis: Wait! Wait. That letter has already reached its destination. It's for me.
Galerne: Oh? Is that so? Show me.
«Break»

The onboard camera of the truck shows that both Pavlis and the instance disappeared for the duration of 40 minutes. The personal body camera of Logistician Pavlis was activated shortly after. Following analysis of the logs it was revealed that Pavlis had momentarily traveled to the Dreamscape. MTF Chi-58 "Dreamscrapers" was dispatched from Site-58 to aid Alpha-4 in their containment of the instances.

«Continued»
<Pavlis' body camera switches on, revealing an ethereal scene before her. The space is dark, but fades to a bright white in the distance. A dining room sits in the middle of the darkness with a trio of figures eating. They are inaudible.>
Pavlis: No fucking way. How are we back here?
Galerne: Your intent was placed on the letter. When I took it in my beak, I placed my own mark on it. The blood on your hands activated the mark and transported us both into your mind.
<The voices become louder.>
Voice 1: I hear you've been doing well in all your classes. I'm really proud of you, but you've done nothing to get yourself involved yet.
Voice 2: Here we go again.
Voice 1: Don't give me an attitude. You promised me, remember?
Voice 2: And I've told you how I feel about it. Please, let me just finish my food in peace.
<The first figure places down its fork.>
Voice 1: All you've given me are excuses. The other people in your grade-
Voice 2: The other people in my grade are where they belong. They don't have to worry about being the black sheep in every single class or event they walk into.
Voice 1: And why is that?
Voice 2: Because they actually want to fucking be there!
Voice 1: Where is this coming from? You've been working your entire life to get to this point. All of the work I've done to make sure you were ready.
Voice 3: We pay a lot of money for you to be going to school.
Voice 2: I know, fuck, you guys aren't listening to me. I'm just…not happy. It's becoming too much for me to handle.
Voice 1: You're not happy because you spend all your time in your room. Maybe if you reached out to someone– oh, what about your classmates. Why don't you hang out with them one weekend? You could go for drinks like a normal kid your age.
Voice 2: I don't drink during school, remember? I don't want it to mess up my grades.
Voice 1: Is that all you care about? You go to class and back to your room to study, and that's it. If you want to be lazy you can do what your friends are-
Voice 2: Friends? What friends? I've been alone since we moved out here. I left everything behind, and you still don't care.
Voice 1: We left for the good of this family. I'm sorry you're too selfish to care about that.
Voice 2: (Mumbling) And look what good that's brought.
Voice 3: Iosif -
Voice 2: Stop, please. I think I want to be alone now.
<The second figure stands from the table.>
Voice 1: You have no right to speak to me this way, I am your mother. I only want what's best for you.
Voice 2: No, you don't! You want to be able to brag about me to your friends and the other members of the family. You don't care about me outside of that.
Voice 1: You're so ungrateful; you and your sister! You only care about yourselves and not the work I did to get you there.
<A figure begins to back away from the table.>
Voice 1: If you leave this table I never want to see your face again! Iosif!
Voice 2: You have no right to call me that anymore.
<The figure runs to the door, tears streaming down their face, and slams it. The scene goes black.>
Galerne: Who is this ‘Iosif?' Even your dreams are deceitful, human.
Pavlis: That was me, years ago when I was still going to school but-
<Pavlis points to the darkened scene.>
Pavlis: Obviously I'm no longer there anymore. Can we just…move on now?
Galerne: As you wish.
<The scene shifts, replacing the dining room with a cramped office. Two figures sit adjacent from one another across a desk. One of them, a larger man, holds a clipboard.>
Man: So it says here that you have a 4.0, several college level courses, even got a full scholarship to a prestigious university. What brings you into my office, Ios-
Voice 2: Please, call me Kallista.
Man: Huh, 'Kallista.' It has a nice ring to it. The only concerning thing about your application, besides how overqualified you are, is the lack of technical skills. Are you sure you want to go through with this?
Voice 2: P-please, sir. I need this job, I'll do anything you need me to do. I'm a fast learner too, you won't even have to focus that much on training me.
<The man laughs.>
Man: You don't have to beg, kid. I've seen many of your case before. You're an outcast! Let me guess, college dropout? Kicked out by your family? No where else to turn?
<Younger Kallista looks down. The man stands up and puts a hand on her shoulder.>
Man: There's no need for the long face, kid. It's alright. Things happen sometimes and we just have to do what we can to survive. It's not fun, but hey, you'll be back on your feet in no time.
<The man removes his hand from her shoulder and turns it.>
Man: Cmon, let's go meet the rest of the misfits.
Voice 2: You mean, I got the job?
Man: Welcome to the Logistics and Transportation Division, Kallista.
<The pair watch the scene shift into a large warehouse. A group of people play cards around a table cursing and cheering as one of them triumphantly grabs a large number of bottle caps. They turn to greet the pair, all shaking the girl's hand or waving from their seat around the table. The scene fades to black. Pavlis turns to Galerne and smiles.>
Pavlis: Was that enough to prove myself to you?
<Silence.>
Pavlis: Galerne?
<The recording goes to black.>
«Break»

«Break»
<The camera refocuses as Pavlis and Galerne find themselves on the outskirts of a small village. A small bird lies injured on the ground in a puddle. A child comes out of a nearby building holding a wrapped bundle. The child notices the bird on the ground, scoops it into its arms and brings it back into the building. The scene goes to black.>
Pavlis: This isn't my memory anymore. Where are we?
Galerne: Postal work is transactional. You trade stamps for money, money for packages, and bird feed for time.
<The child re-emerges from the building with a slightly larger bird. It wears a blue ribbon with a small brass tag around its neck. The boy hands the bird a small bundle of wrapped papers and slowly lifts him into the air. A larger man watches from the entrance to the building, arms crossed. The bird spreads its wings, flaps them once or twice, and flies off into the distance. Some time passes and the bird lands on the building's windowsill. The window opens and the bird goes inside. The scene goes to black.>
Galerne: People have been writing messages to each other for centuries; first on clay tablets, some on leaves, and more recently on paper using ink. These are slow changes. Why would you change a system that works?
<Several birds fly in and out of the building carrying packages and bundles of letters. The boy is grown up now, wearing a blue uniform, and the bird sits on his shoulder. He smiles at the bird and the bird shuffles over, cooing and nuzzles its beak into the boy's shoulder. The bird takes flight and hovers in front of the boy. He takes a cookie out of his breast pocket and the bird begins to maneuver in the air. The boy's father, much older now, calls him back to the house. He looks distressed. The boy returns to the house and the bird remains outside. The scene goes to black.>
Galerne: My new flock looked to me with reverence; I had given a purpose besides scrounging for food on the street, after all. They placed their belief in me, and I in them, and it was through that I was able to connect to this place. We were safe and happy, and for a time, that's all I cared about.
Galerne: But while time stood still for my comrades and I, the world kept shifting around us. Rulers died, towns changed hands, the powers that be grew unhappy with one another. I was never one for politics, but I was too ignorant to not see how the winds had shifted. The boy and I traveled to a land covered in rivers and tulips.
<Galerne pauses and sniffles.>
<A crowd of birds sit outside of the building. The old man looks at them and shakes his head. He shoos them away, yelling, but falls to his knees and cries. A bird with a blue ribbon around its neck steps forward and raises its wing. It attempts to pat the man's leg with its wing, but the man swats at it, hitting the mud. The bird's white feathers are stained brown and the old man leaves. The scene fades to white.>
Galerne: It was my last delivery before I was cast out, before I was abandoned like some animal. My comrades and I were no longer needed. We traveled from city to city, but no one would take us. They treated us like rats, kids threw rocks at us, and our numbers dwindled. I watched my followers die one-by-one and I could feel myself fading with each death, their belief in me dying with them.
<The white glow burns red before falling to a somber blue. Pavlis places her hand on Galerne's back, and the recording goes black.>
«Break»

Following the events of the preceding log both Galerne and Pavlis were returned to the truck's cabin. The MTF units were noted to be around 20 minutes out at this point, with the truck being almost completely emptied of its contents.

«Continued»
<Pavlis gently runs the back of her hand against Galerne's back, causing him to jump at first before relaxing. He coos.>
Pavlis: You poor thing. You've been so strong for so long.
Galerne: Please do not pity me, Kallista. After all, you've been given a new purpose, we have not.
<She pauses.>
Pavlis: My truck is pretty large, and it would take more than half a day to deliver all this mail. How fast do you think you'd be able to get it done?
Galerne: With all of us? Only a matter of hours.
Pavlis: We could always use more hands at the Logistics Division. There's no shortage of stuff that needs to be moved, and your beaks and wings will be loads of help.
Galerne: You're asking me to work for the people who want to get rid of me? Is this some sort of joke?
Pavlis: I know a place not too far from here that takes care of anomalies like you. You'll have a safe home and, if I can convince them, you'll have a purpose again.
<Galerne turns and looks away from Pavlis. She flips down a visor to grab a polaroid.>
Pavlis: Listen, after I moved, everyone and everything seemed to fade away from me. The Foundation may not be perfect, and I may still feel like a cog in an incredibly large machine, but these people, the other drivers, they're my family now. Even if we may not be related by blood, they've cared for me as one of their own. I think you can find that care here too.
Galerne: And what if we don't?
Pavlis: At least you can say you tried.
<Galerne pauses.>
Galerne: Fine, but I still want your word that we'll be safe.
Pavlis: You have my word, Galerne. I promise.
«End Log»

Logistician Pavlis and the instances were brought to the nearest Foundation site, Site-58, and screened for injuries. At Pavlis' request, and with the clearance of Dr. Faran Caraway, Galerne (reclassified as SCP-6459-1) was tasked with delivering paper memos to members of site staff. SCP-6459-1 was noted to have delivered the memos in not only an exceptional time, but also returned directly to Dr. Caraway when finished.
As such, revised containment procedures were created, and minor integration at Site-58 for SCP-6459 instances was approved.

Item#: SCP-6459

Level1

Containment Class:
euclid

Secondary Class:
integrated

Disruption Class:
dark

Risk Class:
notice

link to memo

Assigned Site

Site-58

Site Director

Dir. Gerald Scarborough

Research Head

Dr. Faran Caraway

Assigned MTF

MTF Alpha-4 "Pony Express" & Chi-58 "Dreamscrapers"

Assigned Site

Site-58

Site Director

Dir. Gerald Scarborough

Research Head

Dr. Faran Caraway

Assigned MTF

MTF Alpha-4 "Pony Express" & Chi-58 "Dreamscrapers"

SCP-6459-1 as depicted by François Boucher.

Revised Containment Procedures:
SCP-6459 are to be tagged and contained in standard aviary containment units under the purview of Site-58's Department of Zoological Studies when not in use. During the standard mail week (Monday to Saturday), SCP-6459 instances are to assist site and Logistics & Transportation Division staff in the sorting and delivery of all non-anomalous governmental mail.
Revised Description:
SCP-6459 refers to the population of 25 Homing Pigeons currently contained within Site-58's Department of Zoological Studies. Testing has reported that these instances have above average intelligence compared to non-anomalous Homing Pigeons, and have shown increased awareness and dexterity in regards to the manipulation of objects using their wings, talons, and beak.
Although the current number of instances is currently unknown, SCP-6459-1, referred to as "Galerne" in the 1765 Bordeaux Postal Service records, is noted to be the oldest recorded instance. Through conversation with Logistician Pavlis, SCP-6459-1 revealed it was deific in nature, and Foundation historians believe its story to be consistent with the once lost God of Pigeon Post. SCP-6459-1's connection to the greater Dreamscape outside of its domain is currently unknown.
Further integration of SCP-6459 instances into the greater Logistics & Transportation Division is being deliberated on.

Addendum 2
SCP-6459-1 Mandated Vacation

Following concerns raised by Logistician Pavlis, SCP-6459-1 was granted a short leave under her supervision. Pavlis argued that, as Foundation employees, SCP-6459 instances were subject to the same sick day and paid-time off policies as their human counterparts. Given that SCP-6459-1 had been operating for close to two centuries non-stop by the time of this document's creation, Foundation regulations surrounding acceptable time worked were implemented. Shortly after, Site-58 staff received a message from Logistican Pavlis from Paris, France, with a photo attached. The photo can be seen below.

"Life is Good in Paris!"

Footnotes
1. More commonly known as Homing Pigeons.


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