Item #: SCP-1868
Object Class: Safe-exsequi
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1868 must be used to monitor the electrical activity of the heart of a Class-D personnel. A second D-Class personnel is to remain on standby should a replacement be necessary.
SCP-1868's output must be monitored at all times via video camera, with all communications transcribed and made available to personnel with clearance 2/1868 or greater. As SCP-1868 has responded more positively to Dr. Eriksson than to other personnel, Dr. Eriksson must remain at Site 88 should SCP-1868 wish to communicate with staff.
Due to SCP-1868's potential to provide significant insight into potential medical advances, SCP-1868 has been deemed a high priority by Site 88's Research and Development department.
Description: SCP-1868 is an ████████████ EKG machine constructed in 1999. SCP-1868 appears to be sapient and is capable of altering its output to produce text in American English. SCP-1868 is capable of interpreting audiovisual stimuli via an unknown process.
When attached to a human subject, SCP-1868 will induce a state of unconsciousness in the subject that is not reversible by any currently known means. The subject's brain activity and physiological responses indicate a high level of fear and distress. During situations which cause SCP-1868 fear or anger, the subject may vocalize and/or make motions as if to remove SCP-1868 from themselves.
While it is affecting a subject in this manner, SCP-1868 will claim to be in a romantic relationship1 with the subject, who it apparently believes to be a woman between the ages of 23 and 32, regardless of the subject's actual age and gender. SCP-1868 will in each case be fully aware that the subject is in a coma; nonetheless, it will claim that the subject is actively partaking in activities that would be expected of the subject should they be awake and living in a metropolitan area.
Testing has shown that, in instances in which SCP-1868 claims to be passing on messages or describing the activities of a subject, the knowledge and communications that it conveys are accurate representations of the subject's knowledge and of its behavior. The exception to this is the subject's supposed relationship with SCP-1868, which SCP-1868 will claim as reality even in cases where the subject is highly unlikely to become romantically involved with any entity. Attempts to communicate directly with the subject are discouraged, as using SCP-1868 in this manner results in a drastic increase in brain activity indicative of fear, along with activity that indicates dishonesty on the part of the subject.
It is currently hypothesized that, while SCP-1868 is not completely honest regarding the subject's status, it is capable of interacting with the subject to some extent. Thus, should SCP-1868 be sufficiently analyzed, it may hold promise for communicating with comatose patients, or for providing them with a means to experience normal living. Research into SCP-1868's activity is ongoing.
Attempts to remove SCP-1868 from any subject will result in SCP-1868 becoming highly distressed and angry at the party(s) responsible. Prior to complete removal, SCP-1868 will electrocute the subject via a mechanism that is not fully understood, causing death in all recorded cases. SCP-1868 will typically be highly uncooperative with any person it perceives as responsible for its removal, typically only communicating to state that it caused the electrocution at the subject's request. This behavior will cease should SCP-1868 be provided a new subject.

Interview 1868-6
Foreword: Dr. Eriksson was instructed to engage SCP-1868 in dialogue and, if possible, to obtain information as to the relationships SCP-1868 forms with subjects, as well as the perceived nature of its existence.
<Begin log>
Dr. Eriksson: Afternoon, eighteen sixty-eight.[Thirty seconds pass in silence.]Dr. Eriksson: Pardon?Dr. Eriksson: I'd have to see the rest of it to form an opinion… but we can discuss that later. I have a few more questions to ask.Dr. Eriksson: Can do. How long have you known D-Twenty — er, Claire?[Eighteen seconds pass in silence.]Dr. Eriksson: Right. And when did you two first start dating?Dr. Erksson: How are you dating her if she's in a coma?[D-2088 screams. Supplementary EKG readings indicate a drastically increased heart rate.]Dr. Eriksson: I apologize. I didn't mean to insinuate that there was anything wrong with it. I'm just curious as to the mechanics.Dr. Eriksson: Alright, I suppose. Could I at least know how you figured it all out, so I could give it a shot?Dr. Eriksson: We'll come back to that one when you have more time. Last question. Do you believe yourself to be a human or an EKG machine?Dr. Eriksson: [Sighing] I suppose. Thank you for your time.
<End log>

Footnotes
1. Consulting with SCP-890 have revealed that it believes that this relationship is mundane in nature.

« SCP-1867 | SCP-1868 | SCP-1869 »


Item #: SCP-1869
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1869 is to be contained in a standard humanoid cell furnished with a writing desk, and provided with a constant supply of writing material. SCP-1869 should be examined weekly by a medical personnel and undergo monthly psychological evaluations. Disruption of SCP-1869's writing process should be kept to a minimum during these routine examinations. Notes produced by SCP-1869 are to be inspected daily and filed with documentation pertaining to project SCP-1869.
Description: SCP-1869 is a Caucasian male, currently 59 years old, measuring 1.72 m and weighing 61 kg. It has never been observed to sleep since its acquisition and it presents symptoms of sleep deprivation including clumsiness, involuntary eye movements, confusion, and memory lapses. SCP-1869 remained in a stable health condition since its acquisition and is aging at a rate consistent with that of a normal human being.
SCP-1869 is constantly writing notes consisting of geographic coordinates followed by a brief but detailed description of a toppled tree, occasionally accompanied by a rudimentary sketch. If stationery is not provided, it will attempt to write using any material or means available. SCP-1869 claims to constantly hear the sounds of falling trees and is compelled to record the details of these events. When questioned on its motives, SCP-1869 explains that someone has to do it, but does not elaborate. Inspection of recorded locations confirmed the presence of recently toppled trees matching the descriptions and illustrations. Experimentation showed that SCP-1869 is not cognizant of trees falling in the presence of human witnesses, or following deliberate human action. The majority of occurrences recorded are within a radius of 200 km, but there appears to be no limit on the range of this phenomenon.
Under normal circumstances, SCP-1869 is cooperative but withdrawn, and does not show any signs of emotions. If prevented from taking notes, it will display signs of irritation and emotional distress and may become violent. SCP-1869 is protective of its notes, but was convinced to entrust them to the research personnel with the assurance that they would be conserved carefully.
SCP-1869 was recovered on 10-11-1986, following investigations of rumors of a mentally deranged man who did not sleep. It had been previously working as a forester in ███████████████, in Northern Quebec. The anomalous properties of SCP-1869 developed following a traumatic experience in the months preceding its acquisition. The object had developed a romantic relationship with an indigenous woman of Naskapi ethnicity1, who was reported missing in June 1986. This case was never solved and Foundation investigations yielded no additional clues. SCP-1869 appears to have no recollection of these events or of the time preceding the onset of its anomalous condition.
Addendum 1869: The following is a letter written by SCP-1869 before its acquisition. The intended recipient of the letter has not yet been formally identified.

Sept 9, 86
My friend D█████,
I am certain in my heart what happened, and I fear she will never be found. Like so many others. So many and nobody ever hears about them. Nobody cares. This is the worst indignity.
Can't sleep. My mind conjures visions of broken limbs. Lacerated flesh. Bones covered with frost. Or to think I may have walked over her shallow grave and not know it.
How? Where? Did she suffer? What happened to her dying scream? Is it still vibrating in the heart of the trees that heard it? I feel that I am losing my sanity and I would risk what little I have left just to know. Thank you for your help. I do not have your wisdom concerning these things, but I will have to try.

Footnotes
1. The name Naskapi literally means ''people beyond the horizon''.

« SCP-1868 | SCP-1869 | SCP-1870 »


Item #: SCP-1870
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Due to its location, containment of SCP-1870 requires only minimal on-site supervision to keep anomalous activity confined. On-site personnel are tasked with interviewing and documenting behavior of entities housed within SCP-1870.
Update: Per O5 directive no further personnel are allowed access to SCP-1870. Entrances to the site have been sealed and radio broadcasts from the site have been disabled. Any other communications received from within SCP-1870 are to be immediately deleted with no records kept.
Description: SCP-1870 is an underground complex located in ██████████, ██████, superficially built for the containment and transfer of anomalous objects. Records recovered from SCP-1870 indicate a relationship with the Foundation, although the Foundation has no records of any such facility prior to the discovery and containment of SCP-1870 itself. The anomalous properties of SCP-1870 are inherent to the location itself and its inhabitants. Most of the objects contained within SCP-1870 are not anomalous despite extensive on-site records which claim otherwise.
SCP-1870 is populated by six to ten humanoid entities which share the following characteristics:

Constantly changing facial features, often in drastic manners which do not align with standard bilateral symmetry.
An understanding of Foundation policy and history that, while incorrect, is detailed enough to present a serious security issue.
Detailed knowledge of several contained objects and entities.
An outer epidermis that resembles elaborate but functionless tactical gear. While some portions of this epidermis can be removed, doing so improperly causes great pain or distress to the entity.
An obsession with improvised weaponry such as gardening implements and power tools, most of which are tactically useless.

While the entities often exhibit individual traits, a detailed accounting of their numbers or precise origins have proved impossible to keep. Even under direct observation the number of entities within a closed room will change and some entities have been observed in multiple locations simultaneously. Due to the fluid nature of SCP-1870 entities no permanent designations have been set to distinguish them.
Entities spend their time in training exercises and performing experiments with the non-anomalous objects stored on site.
Examples of the non-anomalous objects stored within SCP-1870 are:

A gallery of poorly stuffed and mounted wildlife. Detailed records are kept on each specimen outlining a mission in which the animals were captured and contained, although the dates on the records do not match the confirmed ages of the specimens.
Seventeen vintage television sets.
Excerpts from an unpublished book on home improvement, author unknown.
A box of fluorescent light bulbs.
Living quarters for "Doctor Steampunk," an inanimate suit of 17th century ceremonial plate armor with brass cogs welded across its surface.
A pinball machine, with erroneous records describing it as a "Roman-era video game console."
A credenza-mounted record player.
Twenty-seven copies of a compilation album titled "Greatest Party Jams 1990" on compact disc.
A box of pamphlets titled "How to Keep Your Facial Features Properly Arranged." Experiment records claim that subjects who read the pamphlet are capable of altering their facial features at will, but only while in possession of a pamphlet. The pamphlets do not possess any anomalous properties at all and appear to be unrelated to the nature of SCP-1870 entities. An example copy is kept in File Room AE2. (Update: Records in File Room AE2 were damaged by an environmental control failure. The example copy was not recovered.)

Excerpt from Interview 1870-E-4, conducted by E-class Agents D███████ and X███:

Agent D███████: Please state your name.
SCP-1870 entity: Agent Redacted.
Agent D███████: Your name is 'redacted'?
SCP-1870 entity: Yes, "Agent Redacted."
Agent X███: Why are you carrying a power drill?
SCP-1870 entity: For luck. I once took out fifty SCP-███ with it.
Agent D███████: Records on SCP-███ are sealed. What can you tell us about them?
SCP-1870 entity: [DATA EXPUNGED] (the answer was confirmed correct by O5. However, there have been no SCP-███ outbreaks within the last fifty years)

Addendum: The original personnel files for Agent D███████ and Agent X███ have been lost due to clerical error and local database corruption. It is not known when they returned from SCP-1870 or where they were later assigned.

« SCP-1869 | SCP-1870 | SCP-1871 »


Item #: SCP-1871
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1871 is stored in an upright storage container at Storage Site-08. Requests for testing are to be directed to Dr. Lutwidge.
Description: SCP-1871 is a steel longsword with a cruciform hilt measuring 144cm in length, with a blade 115cm in length. The hilt is bound with strips of leather. The cross-guard of the sword is engraved, apparently by hand – one side is engraved with the words: “He left it dead, and with its head” while the other is engraved with the words “he went galumphing back” (both engravings are quotations from Lewis Carroll's nonsense poem Jabberwocky). The blade of SCP-1871 is worn and shows evidence of some use in combat – traces of a purple residue can be found in scratches on the blade and cross-guard.
SCP-1871 possesses several anomalous physical properties. If placed on a flat surface, SCP-1871 will orient itself so that it stands on its pommel with the sword point facing directly upwards, although the sword is not weighted. Additionally, SCP-1871 will occasionally begin to behave as if it is submerged in a highly viscous liquid when it is not, and will maintain this anomalous state for several hours at a time before reverting to normal. Only SCP-1871 is affected by these anomalous properties.
When held by a human being, SCP-1871 will induce a variety of anomalous sensory effects. In total, 70% of all subjects have experienced changes to their sense of equilibrioception, causing their sense of balance to shift so that they perceive gravity as acting parallel to the blade of the sword, with the direction of gravity being the direction which the pommel of the sword is pointing towards. For this reason SCP-1871 is highly impractical for use as a weapon, and likely to result in injury to those who attempt to use it in such a fashion. This effect ceases immediately upon SCP-1871 being removed from contact with the subject's skin.
20% of all subjects will not experience changes to their sense of balance, but will instead experience hallucinatory proprioceptive and somatosensory sensations. Such subjects will experience sensations corresponding to a drastically altered body plan of significantly larger size than a human being. This body plan appears to have at least seven limbs, three tail-like appendages, no head or analogous appendage, and is asymmetric. Subjects will not be able to perceive any of their own body's somatosensory or proprioceptive sensations during this time. Subjects will claim to experience the feeling of light rain on their body and wet leaves on the ground. The subjects' other senses are not affected, and this can be highly disorientating and distressing for those affected. This effect does not cease when contact with SCP-1871 is broken, but can instead last for several hours after exposure.
A further 10% of all subjects exposed to SCP-1871 will not undergo anomalous sensory disturbances upon contact with the object. However, upon swinging the object, the stroke will appear to occur instantaneously without SCP-1871 or the wielder's arms moving through any of the intervening space. Following this, SCP-1871 will appear to be coated in a viscous purple liquid chemically identical to the residue found on the sword (for full chemical analysis see [DATA REDACTED]). The subject will experience feelings of elation following the swing, but will shortly thereafter begin to experience feelings of mild discomfort around SCP-1871 and will develop a mild aversion towards interacting with the object. Due to these anomalous properties, it is highly difficult, although possible, for such a subject to physically damage another object or being with SCP-1871.
Addendum: Note recovered from [DATA EXPUNGED], considered of relevance to SCP-1871:

Richard,
I'd complain about your self-indulgence, but I suppose it did the job. I thought you'd want it back. You made it, after all.
That, and I can't help but think that the blade itself has been somehow affected. It feels as if the balance is all wrong now, and I feel a little sick when I look at it. It reminds of the whole sorry affair.
Yours sincerely,
J. Aston

« SCP-1870 | SCP-1871 | SCP-1872 »


An accident caused by SCP-1872.

Item #: SCP-1872
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1872 is to be kept without batteries in a Safe security locker. Once a day this is to be checked for signs of tampering. Any testing done with SCP-1872 must be done in an indoor vehicle testing facility, and only with approved vehicles. No personnel other than D-Class are to be present inside of the test range.
Description: SCP-1872 is a green laser pointer, devoid of any type of manufacturing mark or brand name. The light produced by SCP-1872 has a wavelength of 550 nm; despite this, SCP-1872 appears to have a range of at least 1.5 kilometers.
If SCP-1872's light is directed onto any vehicle with a person inside of it, it will begin to actively pursue the light. Any operators will lose control, however these vehicles are not being "dragged" by the light and will take evasive maneuvers to avoid obstacles. If the light isn't shut off, they will function autonomously until they break down or run out of fuel. If the light produced by SCP-1872 is still, vehicles will circle it until it begins to move again.
SCP-1872 appears to affect a variety of transportation methods, including (but not limited to):

Aircraft
Locomotives
Automobiles
Bicycles
Skateboards
Construction equipment
Aquatic vessels
Spacecraft

There does not appear to be a limit to the number of vehicles SCP-1872 can affect at one time, with testing having shown it can affect at least up to 150 separate devices including 37 automobiles, 5 aquatic vehicles, 4 helicopters, 12 bicycles, and 2 trains. The only vehicles so far not affected by SCP-1872 were SCP-1894 and vehicles which had been affected by SCP-1727.
However, if the subject utilizing SCP-1872 deactivates it before the vehicles that have been affected by it are incapacitated, they will begin to pursue the subject until SCP-1872 is reactivated. Vehicles that pursue the subject can determine their location at all times.
If these vehicles catch up to the subject, they will immediately corner them and begin to approach slowly, blinking their headlights and revving their engines. If the user does not activate SCP-1872 within three to five minutes of being approached, the vehicles will begin driving towards the user, circling them repeatedly. This will continue until the user is either run over enough times to perish, or they re-activate SCP-1872. Death of the user will instantly render any vehicles affected by SCP-1872 mechanically irreparable.
SCP-1872 was recovered from █████, FL after several people on a bridge above a highway used it to create a traffic accident that caused 14 casualties, including the injury of several Foundation agents. Due to the agents' reports of SCP-1872's effect on their vehicles, SCP-1872 was contained within 24 hours of the incident. The persons who were found with SCP-1872 were killed during recovery operations. SCP-1872 was classified as Safe as of ██/██/2009.
Despite no other connections, SCP-1872 has remarkably similar effects to SCP-3104 and SCP-555, although in a far more directed and controllable manner. Further research into these anomalies may provide insight into how SCP-1872 functions.

« SCP-1871 | SCP-1872 | SCP-1873 »


Item #: SCP-1873
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1873 is to be kept in a standard containment locker from the 1st to the 18th and from the 22nd to the end of each month. Three days prior to the object's transportation event, it is to be moved to a cold storage chamber alongside a cadaver of the specifications shown further into this document. After the object's transportation event, its contents are to be recovered, logged and stored appropriately.
Description: SCP-1873 is a metal tin, of the design adopted by Crayola for its Dustless Crayons in 1905. During its initial manifestation, SCP-1873 exhibits slight damage suggestive of natural wear and tear.
SCP-1873 undergoes a repeated cycle. At midnight (local time) on the 21st of each month, SCP-1873 undergoes a transportation event and instantaneously transports itself into physical contact with the nearest human cadaver which conforms to the following specifications:

The cadaver expired as the direct result of the violent actions of another human.
The cadaver expired within the last seven (7) days.

In the majority (>97%) of documented cases, SCP-1873 is transported in such a manner as to appear balanced atop the cadaver or placed within the cadaver's grasp. However, in rare (<3%) situations, the object may appear within the cadaver in question, displacing matter from within the cadaver. Any objects contained within SCP-1873 during the transportation event disappear, and are currently presumed unrecoverable. Upon the completion of the transportation event, SCP-1873 is found to contain one or more objects, alongside a handwritten note. Notes are usually written in American English with black or blue ballpoint pen on torn pieces of lined paper, although other forms are not uncommon.
Partial log of SCP-1873 contents

Date
Contents
Accompanying note
Cadaver used
Comments

21/03/199█
Mummified left and right front paws of a star-nosed mole (Condylura Cristata)
Bury your troubles.
D-3100-12, male, aged 43 at death. Terminated with firearm at close range. Before his induction into the D-class program, subject was serving a life sentence for the murder of his wife, whose buried body was discovered twelve years after her disappearance.
Paws appear to come from two different specimens. Note was written in red ballpoint pen on torn lined paper.

21/05/199█
A 50-page flip-book of a tree growing, drawn on post-it notes.
It's not an end, per se.
D-2222-47, male, aged 23 at death. Terminated with firearm at close range. Subject was a practising Hindu.
Note was written in green ballpoint on first page of flip-book.

21/02/200█
Silk handkerchief embroidered with the initials 'J.F.K.'
Lies happen. Most people just keep living.
D-2080-76, female, aged 25 at time of death. Terminated via blunt trauma to the skull. Prior to life sentence and D-class induction, subject was an avid member of several conspiracy theorist websites.
Note was written in black ballpoint on an American $5 bill. Serial number was discovered to be the same as one contained within the wallet of Researcher ██████.

21/10/200█
N/a
AND ERRO R HAS OCCRURED. PELSE TRY AAGIN LATEER. OSRRY FO RANY ICONVIENCE CAUSED
D-3278-46, male, aged 34 at time of death. Terminated via asphyxiation. Prior to termination, subject had been assigned to and exposed to SCP-████.
Only recorded instance in which SCP-1873 contained no object other than a note. Note was printed in large type in black ink on white printer paper.

21/01/200█
One plain white plastic face mask.
Maybe it's better to be someone else.
D-1420-81, female, aged 27 at time of death. Terminated via blunt trauma to the skull. Prior to life sentence and D-class induction, subject was an enthusiastic member of several acting groups.
Note was written in blue pen on lined paper. The word 'better' was circled several times in red ink.

21/01/200█
One sunflower (Helianthus annuus) seed.
Unknown
D-4793-22, male, aged 33 at time of death. Subject was killed by SCP-████ during a containment breach.
Note was written on a small square of cotton in a currently unknown language.

21/05/200█
The empty wrapper of a '█████████' brand chocolate bar, containing traces of chocolate.
The best things in life are always bad for you. So what?
D-4239-51, male, aged 30 at time of death. Terminated with standard issue combat knife. Subject was diagnosed with an eating disorder at the age of 17.
Note was written in fluorescent pink ink on a rectangle of black cardboard.

21/12/200█
Fifty two (52) playing cards of different designs and makes. All cards are an 8 of clubs.
They all look the same to begin with.
D-3485-89, female, aged 29 at time of death. Subject expired due to severe physical trauma at the hands of D-████-██ and D-████-██ during an escape attempt. Before induction into the D-class program, subject was serving a life sentence for the accidental murder of her brother, who she assaulted under the belief he was a burglar.
Note was written in red squirrel (Sciurus vulgaris) blood on lined paper.

21/07/201█
Assorted British coinage totalling £4.39. All coins were minted in the year 19██
Here's the money. Compliment please.
D-9495-92, female, aged 32 at time of death. Subject terminated with firearm at close range. Subject had undergone cosmetic surgery multiple times.
Note was written in Korean Braille, embossed onto thin card. A small smiley face was drawn on the back of the card in felt tip marker.

21/08/201█
One human kidney.
Sometimes a keepsake is nice.
Researcher █████████, male, aged 3█ at time of death. Subject died from injuries sustained during a mugging. Investigation into significance of object ongoing.
No known matches have been found to the kidney's DNA. Note was written in black ball point pen on a sheet of brown paper.

« SCP-1872 | SCP-1873 | SCP-1874 »


Item #: SCP-1874
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1874 is to be contained in a paddock at the Agricultural Research Station at Site 58, as part of a flock of no less than seven (7) sheep kept within the Experimental Farm. SCP-1874 is to wear a sheep jacket at all times in order to facilitate distinguishing it from the rest of the flock; the sheep jacket is to be replaced immediately whenever necessary. Due to the highly social nature of the species, SCP-1874 will suffer the physiological effects of extreme stress if isolated from other sheep for more than 1 day; in the event that any of the other sheep are killed, they are to be replaced within that time frame. All interactions with SCP-1874 and its flock, including veterinary care, must be done with full protective gear (gloves, long sleeves, goggles, boots). SCP-1874 and its flock are all to have standard access to water and foraging-suitable vegetation.
Description: SCP-1874 is a female sheep (Ovis aries), of the Black Welsh Mountain breed. When SCP-1874 makes contact with the skin of a live mammal that is not another sheep, SCP-1874 will explode. The force of this explosion has yet to be properly measured; however, when in an open space, it is sufficient to kill everything within approximately six (6) meters of SCP-1874. SCP-1874 is not immune to its own explosive nature, and will be reduced to biological debris; however, after approximately 5 minutes, the flesh and organs will move towards each other, and reassemble into SCP-1874 as it was immediately prior to the explosion. The process of reassembly and reanimation takes 1 minute. SCP-1874 does not appear to be traumatized or otherwise psychologically affected by its detonations.
Breeding experiments with SCP-1874 have been unsuccessful; in particular, male sheep have proven to be extremely reluctant to mate with SCP-1874, and attempts at artificial insemination are being made. However, if it is possible for SCP-1874 to bear lambs that share its anomaly, it would open opportunities to do internal experimentation on SCP-1874.
Acquisition Log: SCP-1874 was discovered on ██/██/20██, in the aftermath of an apparent terrorist attack at the ███████, ████████ Petting Zoo, in which ██ visitors and █ employees were killed; all other sheep in the paddock likewise died in the blast, with the exception of SCP-1874, which was standing at the blast's epicenter and grazing on vegetation. Amnestics were administered to survivors and witnesses, and SCP-1874 was taken into custody.
Addendum 1874-1: After gathering samples from the surface of SCP-1874's wool, it has been determined through microscopic examination that it exudes an anomalous form of trinitrotoluene (hereby referred to as SCP-1874-1), rather than the lanolin grease that sheep naturally produce. Through closer examination of its reactions, Researcher █████ discovered that this anomalous material is what is causing SCP-1874 to reassemble and reanimate. Further experimentation is needed to determine what causes SCP-1874-1 to ignite when in contact with the skin of live mammals.

« SCP-1873 | SCP-1874 | SCP-1875 »


SCP-1875-1 (drive shaft not visible)

Item #: SCP-1875
Object Class: Euclid
Next Scheduled November-77 Exercise: In Progress Cancelled

+ [AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY]

- [ACCESS GRANTED]

Explanation of Recent Containment Procedure Changes
We believe that computer networks at SCP-1875's holding site have been compromised. As a result, all electronic communications with the facility have been severed pending further notice.
Overwatch HQ has declared a moratorium on future November-77 exercises until such time as we fully understand how 1875 transmits and receives wireless communication signals. Accordingly, I have amended these procedures with two clauses re: (1) exposure of SCP-1875 to wireless data networks and (2) treatment of individuals exposed to 1875-IMG-1AB.

- O5-█

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1875 must never come within transmission range of any wireless data network. The machine's container must be enclosed by a Faraday cage, and it must have a fully mechanical locking mechanism.
The holding site's full-time staff must include at least two network security experts, one armed security guard, and one child psychology specialist. When the machine is fully assembled and activated, the speed adjustment lever on SCP-1875-3 may not be set to "V" (maximum speed) without direct supervision by the site's Level-4 supervisor.
Electronic devices with data storage capacity may not be introduced to the facility, except during Exercise 1875-November-77, and all individuals must be screened for such devices prior to entering the holding site.
In the event of Exercise 1875-November-77, Overwatch HQ will permit one designated and clearly-marked laptop computer to be taken into SCP-1875's primary shielded container. Upon completion of November-77, facility staff must ensure this designated laptop is shredded in the facility's scrap-metal shredder. Research data may only be removed from the container in the form of a paper printout.
Any evidence of 1875-IMG-1AB exposure must be reported immediately to Overwatch HQ.
Description: SCP-1875 is a Victorian-era chess automaton1 consisting of four principal components, hereafter referred to as SCP-1875-1, SCP-1875-2, SCP-1875-3, and SCP-1875-4.
SCP-1875-1
A steel chessboard table, 72 x 72 x 64 cm, with a standard eight-by-eight grid of 64 checkered squares painted on its surface. Based on its composition and patina, research staff have identified the exact material as English crucible steel, likely cast between 182█ and 187█.
On ██/██/199█, Mobile Task Force █████-█ retrieved SCP-1875 from an abandoned laboratory facility discovered beneath the former residence of ███████████ University Professor ██████ M███████ in ███████████shire, England.
A drive shaft, designed to connect with SCP-1875-3, protrudes from one side of the system's otherwise-seamless enclosure. The table contains a sophisticated mechanical and biological system that controls a matrix of 64 electromagnets using an analytical engine composed of the combined brain tissue of the twin daughters (designated SCP-1875-1/a and -1/b) of Russian chess prodigy ██████ ███████████. Each square on the chessboard's surface sits above a single electromagnet, and each electromagnet can move one chess piece to one of eight neighboring squares.
Researchers have developed several theories regarding the control mechanism's functional specifications, but the nature of its biological component and possible sentience remain unverified.
SCP-1875-2
A complete set of 32 chess pieces carved in the Oriental style from human bone. Each piece is affixed with a thin (0.31 cm) base pad of ferromagnetic iron. Samples of the bone used for the pieces have been matched genetically with tissue samples from SCP-1875-1/a and SCP-1875-1/b.
Following the recovery of SCP-1875-1, an anonymous individual associated with Professor M███████'s estate submitted information to Foundation personnel regarding these chess pieces, leading to their subsequent discovery in the possession of █████ H██████ in New York City's Washington Square Park.

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SCP-1875-3
A stationary steam engine manufactured by Maudslay, Sons & Field (c. 1840), also acquired from the estate of Professor M███████ and designed to spin SCP-1875-1's drive shaft.
The engine has been modified from factory stock to allow speed adjustments. It has five speed settings, labeled in roman numerals.

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SCP-1875-4
A suit of 18th-century Samurai armor in the Gusoku style. Arrived in storage case with SCP-1875-3, courtesy of Professor M███████'s estate. Historical evidence suggests that SCP-1875-4 would have been situated on a chair beside the chess table, serving as a performance prop. Staff have not observed any objectively unusual activities, however, several visiting researchers have reported prolonged feelings of anxiety after making eye contact with armor's face plate.

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Addendum-01: Intake Report

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SCP involved: 1875
Personnel involved: ████ ███████, Intake Analyst
Date: ██/██/199█
Location: Site-██
Description:
SCP-1875 appears to be a fully mechanical chess-playing machine from the mid-19th century. Unlike other early "mechanical" chess devices (see: Standage, Tom. The Turk: The Life and Times of the Famous Eighteenth-Century Chess-Playing Machine), SCP-1875 does not appear to be designed to conceal a human operator within its case.
SCP-1875 was built for the same purpose as contemporaneous devices—as a traveling curiosity, designed to be played by volunteers before a group of spectators, who would be charged an admission fee. Identities of several of the machine's previous owners are known (see: [DATA EXPUNGED]), but reliable information regarding its original designer(s) and fabricator(s) remains elusive.
When questioned about the origin of SCP-1875, a representative from the estate of Professor M███████ directed us to a Russian newspaper clipping (see: [DATA EXPUNGED]) found among the Professor's belongings. The article concerns the disappearance of the twin 14-year-old daughters of Russian chess champion ██████ ███████████ on ██/██/18██. Subsequent historical records indicate that the girls were never found, and that Russian authorities failed to identify the person(s) responsible. However, we have yet to establish any connection between these events and SCP-1875.
Evidence of the machine's public appearances, beginning in 18██ under the name The Samurai, have been found in Russian, British, and American newspaper archives (see: [DATA EXPUNGED]). The last recorded appearance of The Samurai occurred on April █, 1906, in San Francisco, California. Its owner at the time, sideshow proprietor Mr. H████ H██████, perished in the aftermath of the earthquake that struck San Francisco later that month. SCP-1875 was presumed to have been destroyed as well, until its recent discovery by the Foundation.
After assembling the components of SCP-1875 at the Site-██ intake facility, we have begun testing the device for anomalous properties.

Addendum-02: Incident 1875-55A

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Source: 1875-P█ Inbox Archive (File 1875-███)

From: 1875-P█ [DepResearchDirector]
To: _DL_1875
Subject: Re: Test 1875-55
Date: 11/77/1999 11/07/1999, 16:58
Upon complete assembly, it was confirmed that SCP-1875 chess hardware is fully operational. In this test, a modern chess computer with variable-strength software was used to measure SCP-1875's analytical intelligence.
We positioned one member of Class D personnel (1875-D1) in containment with the machine, seated behind the chessboard's black side and facing 1875-4, which we positioned behind the white side. Five chess games were played, one on each of the steam engine's speed settings. Instructions were provided through wireless speakers from behind plexiglass shielding to move each piece.
1875-D1 remained unharmed, and returned to Site-██ for next assignment.
Here's a quick list of the chess strength at each setting, as estimated on Elo rating system—we're confident about the numbers measured on settings I through IV:
(I) 800-1000 Elo
(II) 1000-1200
(III) 1200-2500
(IV) 2500-████
(V) 0-████ (?)
Test on setting V remained the outlier, and so we performed additional tests with chess-proficient researchers (See: File 1875-V-██, Games █-███):

Initially, SCP-1875 exceeded ████ Elo, a ██% increase from the maximum rating measured in our setting-IV tests.
After game █, SCP-1875 chess play was marked by illogical moves.
During game ██, illegal moves were observed, forcing us to abandon games-in-progress. This activity was seen more frequently as testing progressed.
After game ██, erratic piece movement was observed. The speed at which SCP-1875 moved its pieces increased, and it began to violently ram pieces together on the board.

Several chess pieces were chipped, and we decided to cease testing until we can determine a way to proceed without causing more damage.
Staff currently suspects that setting V may be malfunctioning due to excess age and wear.

5 minutes later, the following was sent to all members of the SCP-1875 email distribution list:

From: 1875-P█ [ResearchAnalyst]
To: _DL_1875
Subject: Re: Fwd: Re: Test 1875-55
Date: 11/77/1999 11/07/1999, 17:03
Attachment: шахматы.███ [17.2 Mb]
a1 b2 c3 d4 e5 f6 h7 g8
[<1875-IMG-1AB> REDACTED]

1875-IMG-1AB is an image file that appeared in the body of the suspicious email above. It has been removed from this report due to unknown memetic properties, which caused an adverse reaction in █ personnel who unintentionally viewed it while checking email on 11/07/1999 before others could be notified. The image appears to be a black and white photograph of two young girls, though first-hand accounts describe it as "distorted" or "stretched" in a visually disturbing manner.
шахматы.███ is an executable file, written to control subtle background movements in 1875-IMG-1AB. It is theorized to drive 1875-IMG-1AB's memetic effect, though researchers have yet to confirm this.
The reaction to 1875-IMG-1AB exposure was characterized by symptoms:

T+0 (exposure) – Mild anxiety
T+15min – Headache, elevated body temperature
T+2hr – Restlessness, insomnia, auditory hallucination reported (often heard as quiet child-like laughter)
T+4hr – Visual hallucination reported, intense anxiety
T+7hr – Subjects remain conscious, though increasingly unresponsive to external stimuli
T+11hr – Brief period of lucidity—subject appears to recover & will demand immediate access to computer on which 1875-IMG-1AB was viewed
T+12hr – Self-mutilation observed
T+14hr – [REDACTED]

Reminder: The first priority for responding to any 1875-IMG-1AB exposure scenario must be removing the exposed person(s) from their workstations immediately, and isolating them from all networked computers. – O5-█

Addendum-03: Incident 1875-55B

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Addendum-04: Exercise 1875-November-77

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шахматы [17.2 MB]
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Footnotes
1. See: Scientific American Suppl. November 6, 1915. Torres and his remarkable automatic devices. Vol. 80, 2079, 296-298.

« SCP-1874 | SCP-1875 | SCP-1876 »


Item #: SCP-1876
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1876 is stored in a standard secure locker in the Safe-class containment wing of Site ██. Experimentation with SCP-1876 may only be performed with prior permission from at least one (1) Level 3 Senior Researcher and must be moved to approved testing areas by fully automated robotic rovers or other automated transport systems. Until further notice, only Class D personnel may handle SCP-1876 directly.
Description: SCP-1876 is a used plastic toothbrush manufactured by [REDACTED], completely unremarkable except for the words "stop taken [sic] my shit", which are written on the handle with a black fine-point permanent marker.
Approximately twenty (20) seconds after a living human subject picks up SCP-1876 or otherwise moves it from its current position, the subject is temporally displaced to a point in time directly prior to that act. The subject is aware of anything that occurs in this time period, regardless of the temporal paradox that should result from taking an alternate action after the "rewind".
SCP-1876 was discovered in a dormitory trash bin at [REDACTED] University in [REDACTED] on █/██/██ and came to the Foundation following reports of its anomalous effect from the janitor on staff who claimed to be unable to move the bin. A Foundation containment team managed to isolate the effect to SCP-1876 and determined through field testing that moving it via completely automated means did not trigger its anomalous effects. Attempts to determine its original owner have not been successful thus far, and DNA and fingerprint analysis of the object have yielded inconclusive data.
Addendum 1876-01: Test Log
Date: █/██/██
Subject: D-33281
Description: SCP-1876 placed on table in testing room by automated rover. D-33281 was then instructed to pick up SCP-1876 and move it to a table on the opposite side of the chamber.
Result: Subject began to reach for SCP-1876, then stopped in surprise and muttered an expletive. When questioned, Subject stated that he had "just put it on the other table, and now it's back again". Subject instructed to do so again, with the same result, before refusing any further testing.
Date: █/██/██
Subject: D-33319
Description: SCP-1876 placed on table in testing room by automated rover. Subject is instructed to move SCP-1876 to a table on the other side of the chamber and informed that if they failed to do so, they would be shot by an armed guard.
Result: Subject begins reaching for SCP-1876, then pauses for several seconds while exhibiting surprise that rapidly changes to shock and then fear. Subject then breaks down, sobbing, while pleading not to be shot. When questioned, Subject claims to have attempted to follow the instructions several dozen times, only to have the actions undone each time.
Date: ██/█/██
Subject: D-33347, Agent █████
Description: SCP-1876 placed on table in testing room by automated rover. Subject is instructed to pick up and hold SCP-1876; Agent █████ is given prior instructions to shoot the Subject with a tranquilizer dart after SCP-1876 is picked up.
Result: Subject reaches for SCP-1876 before suddenly slumping to the ground, unconscious. Medical tests confirmed the presence of sedatives in Subject's bloodstream; Agent █████'s dart gun is confirmed to still be loaded and unfired. Subject recovers without incident.

« SCP-1875 | SCP-1876 | SCP-1877 »


Item #: SCP-1877
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: Due to the impossibility of transport, each instance of SCP-1877 is contained in situ at the subject's origin point. When practicable, the Foundation shall secure ownership of the origin point, soundproof the subject's living quarters, and install inward-facing locks on any interior doorways adjacent to the subject. Foundation medical staff are to review subjects' condition on a 48-hour cycle, measuring any visible extracorporeal intestine. Any intestinal retraction of over 10mm in a single 48-hour period is to be immediately reported to Research Director ████.
Any publicly-accessible infrastructure containing any length of extracorporeal intestine is to be rotated out of service if practicable, or serviced only by Foundation-approved personnel if impractical. Endoscopic discovery of any additional extracorporeal intestine is to be reported immediately to the Research Director.
Description: SCP-1877 is an anomalous gastrointestinal disorder affecting a number of geographically disparate individuals, designated SCP-1877-01 through SCP-1877-03. In addition to their abnormally long and continuous gastrointestinal tract, subjects exhibit severe neuropsychiatric symptoms including left hemispatial neglect and mild aphasia. While subjects' immobility renders most medical imaging impracticable, preliminary EEG results demonstrate unusually high levels of electrical activity in patients' right parietal lobes.
To date, over 30 km of continuous intestine has been endoscopically mapped. Subjects' intestinal tracts have been observed to intersect with numerous manmade artifacts, including pilot lights, electrical conduits, lightbulb sockets, telephone receivers, water mains, sewage pipes, and subway tunnels. 31 hours after entering SCP-1877-01's digestive tract, objects which have entered that tract can be observed passing through SCP-1877-02's entry stoma and exiting 30 minutes thereafter. Presumably, they then travel to SCP-1877-03, and are passed to additional individuals or excreted.
Mapped portions of the SCP-1877 gastrointestinal network consist of the following:
4cm beyond the pyloric valve, SCP-1877-01's duodenum turns outward through a painless stoma in his abdominal wall, extends across subject's living room, and enters a light fixture located in the ceiling of his apartment. Architectural and endoscopic investigation of his gastrointestinal tract seems to indicate that it then descends through the wall of his apartment, enters a water line, diverts into the Washington DC metro system, and then takes a sharp southward turn which renders endoscopy impracticable without severe injury to the patient.
The subject's gastrointestinal tract then resumes in Busan, Korea, exiting through a pilot light in SCP-1877-02's oven, traversing the kitchen and bathroom, and entering through a painless stoma in the second subject's abdominal wall. After 1.4m of superficially normal small intestine, a second length of jejunum exits through a second stoma in the anterior abdominal wall, descends into the subject's bathroom sink, and passes 3.7km through the Busan sewer system. Endoscopic investigation has demonstrated that SCP-1877-02's upper digestive tract is no longer continuous with the lower digestive tract now occupying his body. A third individual, designated SCP-1877-03, is presumed to exist but has not been found. Presuming that the southward bearing of SCP-1877-02's small intestine is continuous, the uncontained third subject is hypothesized to live somewhere within 30km of Adelaide, Australia.
At present, subjects' condition is unstable. Beginning in 2007, both known subjects' extracorporeal intestines began to retract into architectural features of their apartments. At recovery, SCP-1877-01 presented with 24m of slack extracorporeal intestine, permitting him limited mobility within his quarters. At present, SCP-1877-01 only possesses 8m of taut extracorporeal intestine, confining him to a single room of his apartment. SCP-1877-02's retraction has been less severe; at recovery, subject presented with 41m of slack intestine. Postrecovery retraction has reduced his intestinal slack to 34m.
Addendum: On December 5th, 2012, a Foundation recovery team entered an apartment in Adelaide hypothesized to be the origin point of SCP-1877-03. No anomalous features were detected; however, a handwritten letter was found in the apartment's dishwasher. That letter is transcribed below:

Dear General Electric,
I have long appreciated your products. But now I draw close to the socket and there are questions.
For instance what is the problem? I think the problem is that there is a bad disease. My stomach hurts. And I own a General Electric dishwasher, model PD968DPBB, and it does not even help me. Everything growls and boils and whips. There is a stink. I have called my cousin in America and told him that there were difficulties with sickness. He told me to call you, because you are where the problems come from, that there is an electrical wave which comes from my dishwasher and goes to my guts.
Also what will happen? The problem is now very bad. I have to stand so close to your socket that I can hear the electrical wave. Like whalesong. I will have to go in soon. My guts will make me. I know that General Electric cannot make it stop. But there needs to be an answer to the mystery of the appliances. The answer should come in the manual which goes with the socket. So that there is less anxiety when we all have to go into our appliances and live in the guts of the earth, as all of us someday shall do.
Tomorrow I think I will have to go in. When it ends, will I live alone in the names of appliances? How does one traverse the guts of the earth so that there is no problem? Is this a sickness that shoots in an electrical wave from all dishwashers, or just mine?
Please call me tomorrow, General Electric. There will not be much time. I have so much anxiety.
Thank you so much for all your products,
██████

Though the letter appears never to have been sent, a review of telephone logs indicates that a call was placed to the apartment's telephone from General Electric's headquarters in Fairfield, CT. The precise origin point of that call, the subject matter of the conversation which followed, and the individual responsible are still undetermined as of █/██/████.

« SCP-1876 | SCP-1877 | SCP-1878 »


Item #: SCP-1878
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Each manifestation of SCP-1878 should be neutralised by the timely execution of procedure B-04 "Milkround" by assigned operatives. In general an instance of SCP-1878 will appear daily. Procedure B-04 is performed as follows.

At 0445 hrs, assigned operatives must ensure that a Foundation-operated truck (LGV) is in place at the intersection between Alberts Rd. and Downsfield Rd. The truck must block the road entirely.

At 0500 hrs, SCP-1878 should attempt to turn onto Alberts Rd. from Downsfield Rd. If the truck is positioned correctly SCP-1878 will be unable to continue and will halt. After SCP-1878 has stopped, it should be disabled by disconnection of its battery located underneath the payload platform of the vehicle.

At approximately 0505 hrs, SCP-1878 and its contents should be loaded into the truck and taken immediately to Site-52 for incineration unless otherwise instructed.

Any deviation from the expected behaviour or contents of SCP-1878 should be reported to Dr. Clarke (see addendum).
Description: Instances of SCP-1878 outwardly appear to be standard unmarked milk floats (a battery-operated platform truck). Associated with each instance of SCP-1878 is its humanoid driver (designated SCP-1878-1) and its payload of a milk-like substance (designated SCP-1878-2). Despite extensive surveys of the area around Alberts Rd. (located in █████, England), the point of origin of SCP-1878 has yet to be determined.
SCP-1878's steering wheel is non-functional, and it does not possess pedals or an instrument panel. However, it has only been observed to move when SCP-1878-1 is in the driver's seat. It is unclear whether the vehicle is capable of autonomous movement. SCP-1878's wheels are powered by a single battery connected to electric motors.
SCP-1878-1 is an entity which appears to be a human male approximately 40 to 50 years in age. While SCP-1878-1 is externally indistinguishable from a normal human, its internal anatomy and genetics seem to be significantly simpler (further details available in medical report 1878-A). In general, instances of SCP-1878-1 do not display signs of intelligence and do not respond to external stimuli - with some exceptions. When seated in SCP-1878, SCP-1878-1 remains mostly static and faces directly ahead.
SCP-1878-2 is a substance similar to milk in appearance and viscosity. When being transported by SCP-1878 it is always stored in unmarked glass bottles with aluminium foil lids. While SCP-1878-2 usually contains lipids and polypeptides (these often include non-standard amino acids), they are unlike those found in milk from any known animal. Consumption of the liquid is described as unpleasant but is generally not known to be dangerous; experiments into the effects of long-term consumption have found that while SCP-1878-2 is generally safe to consume, doing so often leads to digestive issues. The exact composition of SCP-1878-2 changes on a regular basis.
If an instance of SCP-1878 is not neutralised it will proceed to deliver SCP-1878-2 to all houses along Alberts Rd. (located in █████, England) occupied by a family with at least one child under the age of twelve (17 households as of ██-██-████). One bottle of SCP-1878-2 will be placed outside the door for each current occupant of each house. SCP-1878 drives between houses, and SCP-1878-1 physically delivers SCP-1878-2 to the doorstep of a given household (this is generally the only time SCP-1878-1 is observed to move). SCP-1878-1 will also collect and return to the vehicle all emptied milk bottles left outside the door of any households it visits.
Addendum 1878-A:

The following is an abridged list of significant deviations from normal behaviour and contents of SCP-1878 with associated date.
██-██-1991: Failure of procedure B-04. SCP-1878-2 was delivered to 22 households, of the 18 individuals who ingested SCP-1878-2, 14 reported stomach complaints and 1 was hospitalised with severe diarrhoea.
██-██-1995: SCP-1878 did not manifest for 13 days.
██-██-1995: SCP-1878 stopped in front of the Foundation truck used for procedure B-04, paused for several seconds and reversed a distance of approximately one metre.
██-██-2002: SCP-1878 arrived without its payload of SCP-1878-2.
██-██-2005: SCP-1878 crashed into the Foundation truck used for procedure B-04, damaging itself.
██-██-2005: SCP-1878 did not manifest for 3 days; when it next arrived, its payload of SCP-1878-2 appeared to have spoiled.
██-██-2007: All samples of SCP-1878-2 tested were found to be heavily contaminated with unknown unicellular organisms. Testing is ongoing.
██-██-2008: SCP-1878 did not manifest for 17 days.
██-██-2008: SCP-1878-1 turned to face operative █████ when it was approached and maintained eye contact for the duration of procedure B-04.
██-██-2009: Failure of procedure B-04. SCP-1878-2 was delivered to 16 households, none of the 12 individuals who ingested SCP-1878-2 reported any ill-effects.
██-██-2011: SCP-1878-1 turned to face operative ████████ and vocalised when it was approached as part of procedure B-04. Its vocalisations were unintelligible.

« SCP-1877 | SCP-1878 | SCP-1879 »


Item #: SCP-1879
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: Due to the nature of the anomaly, SCP-1879 cannot be contained by the Foundation at this time. Foundation agents are to monitor police reports within the state of Washington for signs of possible SCP-1879 infection. When an instance of SCP-1879-1 is found, MTF Rho-4 (aka "Shoos Salesmen") are to be dispatched to the location to deal with SCP-1879-1 at the minimum possible cost to those involved. All items obtained from these interactions are to be incinerated, if feasible, and dismantled if not. Civilians that come in contact with SCP-1879-2 are to be administered Class-A amnestics after Foundation questioning.
Description: SCP-1879 is a phenomenon that affects houses in the state of Washington, USA. It has been noted to only affect interior doors, which are hereby designated SCP-1879-1. These doors are visually unchanged; however, when a sapient organism comes within 2m of an SCP-1879-1 instance, repeated knocking emanates from the object. This continues indefinitely until a subject opens the door. At this point, a male humanoid entity, hereby designated as SCP-1879-2, will emerge from the SCP-1879-1 instance. The entity is approximately 1.7m in height and appears to be of Caucasian descent and indeterminate age.
After emerging from the door, SCP-1879-2 will attempt to sell a product to the subject. These products appear to vary widely in purpose and origin, as the entity has presented a variety of objects1. The entity will dramatically explain the purpose and appeal of the product to the subject, often cornering them or suggesting they sit down before doing so. The explanations and tactics utilized are often not particularly persuasive, and the entity uses underhanded methods to sell its product. After fully explaining, the entity will then offer a price. Said price rarely consists of currency and often is detrimental to the subject or the subject's health. The entity consistently refuses to elaborate or comment on the definition of its prices unless it decides to raise them, which it often does if the product is not accepted and paid for quickly. SCP-1879-2 is persistent in its efforts and refuses to leave the subject alone until the product is purchased. However, if it is sufficiently threatened or wounded, the entity will temporarily retreat back into SCP-1879-1, which will then revert back into a non-anomalous door. It will later return within the same house via a different door and confront the subject, attempting more aggressively or even threatening them to purchase their product, as well as increasing the price. Once the product is purchased, the entity will thank the subject and exit the area through an SCP-1879-1 instance.
Retrieval Log-1879-Rho: The following log is a short list of items obtained from deals with SCP-1879-2 along with the described price and the results.

Object Received:
Price Statement:
Results:

Object Received: One (1) red rose
Price Statement: "All I'm asking for is your heart."
Results: Subject expired due to the demanifestation of his cardiovascular system.

Object Received: Two hundred and twenty (220) bananas
Price Statement: "Gimme some sugar, sweetie."
Results: All candied goods within the house disappeared.

Object Received: One (1) thermonuclear explosive2
Price Statement: "I want your soul."
Results: Subject hesitantly complied after encouragement. No notable effects happened at the scene of the exchange; however, the subject later discovered two (2) of her Aretha Franklin albums (Lady Soul and Almighty Fire) to be missing.

Audio Log-1879-Eta: The following log was taken during the initial attempts of Foundation agents to apprehend and discern the nature of SCP-1879-2. Agent Rogers was equipped with audio recording devices at the time of the event.
This incident took place at ████ ████████ ███, Seattle, WA, the home of Shirley Yeats. Mrs. Yeats had previously called the police several times urgently, describing a "salesman that wouldn't get out of her house and kept disappearing into random doors." Foundation agents intervened to investigate the possible anomaly. Upon arrival at the scene, agents noted a male humanoid entity (SCP-1879-2) that was carrying a juvenile Border Collie and holding it in front of Mrs. Yeats while speaking rapidly.

Rogers: He-
SCP-1879-2: [turning away from Yeats to address Agent Rogers] Oh good, maybe you'll listen to sense. See, I got this dog, right, but I can't keep it, so I thought, "Maybe Shirley'd like this." I just popped over and offered to give it to her—Okay, maybe not "give," per se—A guy's still gotta get by, right? Anyways, I offered it, and—
Rogers: That's not what we—
SCP-1879-2: Hold on, before you say anything, let me tell you about this fuckin' puppy. He's a purebred and the most playful little scamp you'll ever see. [Entity yells over his shoulder] Even if he's apparently not good enough for some people!
Rogers: If you don't listen, I'm re—
SCP-1879-2: [Entity holds up dog to Agent Rogers face.] Just look at him, he's so sad! Look, he's potty trained and everything, I just don't want to see him sad, and I really can't have him anymore. Personal reasons, you know. Really, all I'm asking for is some of your time, you'll barely even notice him around. Cross my heart.
Rogers: [raising his voice] Would you just—
SCP-1879-2: Some of your time is all I'm— [Entity is forced to the ground by Foundation agents, who proceed to gag the entity with a towel taken from the house's kitchen.]
Rogers: [talking to fellow agents] Okay, fuck it, we're taking him back to the Site to interrogate him.
[Agents attempted to escort SCP-1879-2 out of the house. However, upon exiting the front doorway, the entity demanifested. Agents were not able to locate it within the house in the following investigation of the house. SCP-1879-2 later reportedly manifested within the house after approximately six (6) hours, and Foundation agents returned to the scene.]
SCP-1879-2: [speaking to Mrs. Yeats, who was cowering in a corner at the time] Ma'am, please, he just needs a home! I have to sell him! It doesn't cost any money, I promise, just twelve years of your time!
Rogers: [talking to fellow agents] Try to keep the thing in the room this time.
SCP-1879-2: Shirley, just take the dog, and I'll be gone. Swear on my life. [Mrs. Yeats took the animal. Immediately, she disappeared3.] Pleasure doing business with you. [The entity then walked into the closet before agents could apprehend it. After passing through the doorway, SCP-1879-2 demanifested. Class-A amnestics were administered to Mrs. Yeats's family.]

Audio Log-1879-Psi: The following log was taken during a successful Foundation interception of an SCP-1879-1 activation event.

[rapid, inconsistent knocking sounds emanating from SCP-1879-1]
SCP-1879-2: [quietly talking] Goddammit, hurry up, I have to meet the quota by tomorrow or else I have to stay in this fucking world for the next century. [shouting] Hey! I know you're there! Spare a moment of your time? [quietly talking] Why does the boss even need this shit anyways? It's not like he has any use for them any more.
[A musical scale is heard emanating from SCP-1879-1. Knocking ceases.]
SCP-1879-2: [Sighs. Snaps. Scale stops.] Yes, boss? I know, I know, that's not what you meant by "soul," I just thought you'd get a kick outta— Yes. Yes, sir. I will. Yes. I'm sorry. It won't happen again. Please don't hurt it, I'll meet the quota this time, I swear. Yes. Okay. Thank you. Goodbye, sir. [Snaps, quietly talking] I better get to move up to at least Accounting this time. Just get me out of this fucking place already, I've paid my dues and then some.
[Knocking recommences until Agent Rogers opens the door.]
SCP-1879-2: Hello, Mr. Gr— Oh. You. Hi.
Rogers: Hello. Now, I'd like to ask you—
SCP-1879-2: Now, see here, let's think logically. You know I'm not gonna tell you anything. I know you're not likely to buy what I'm selling. So let's just move on to greener pastures. I'm coming up close to a deadline, and I'm sure you're swamped with making sure good people don't do their jobs, so I'll just be on my way and let you do that. Ciao. [Entity attempts to close the door. Agent Rogers holds door open and grabs SCP-1879-2.]
Rogers: That's not happening. [Personnel retrieve and detain SCP-1879-2 within the room.] Now, are you going to talk to me?
SCP-1879-2: Look, I'm busy, so I'll tell you what. I'm going to give you something, no money out of your pocket, and we'll call it even. Sound good? [Within one to three seconds of this statement, approximately two thousand (2,000) coins of assorted origin manifested within the pockets, epidermis, and digestive tract of all subjects at the scene excluding SCP-1879-2. All Foundation personnel involved were confirmed to be deceased. SCP-1879-2 was reportedly encountered later that day on a house further down on the same street, but had apparently demanifested before Foundation agents could reach the scene.]

Footnotes
1. Objects obtained from SCP-1879-2 include an LP record of "Abbey Road" signed by all four members of The Beatles, a leather belt, and a Glock 18 pistol.
2. Object was retrieved by Foundation agents and is currently housed at Non-Anomalous Storage Area 344.
3. The subject was recovered twelve (12) years later from the same location. Subject is physically unchanged and has no recollection of the time during her absence.

« SCP-1878 | SCP-1879 | SCP-1880 »


Item #: SCP-1880
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1880 is to be kept in a standard containment unit at the High Value storage area of Site-17. Authorization from project Kesher supervisor Dr. Shaw is required before any interaction with the object.
Description: SCP-1880 is a carved gemstone mounted in gold depicting Alexander the Great cutting the Gordian knot, a common scene showed on similar, non anomalous objects of the same period. Though experts originally dated the object to the fourth century B.C, the classical Greek period, recent developments suggest that it is in fact more recent, and was made around the first century A.D in Rome.
SCP-1880 displays no anomalous properties unless held by an adult human no less than twenty (20) years old. When held by a suitable subject, a mental link is created between him/her and an unknown entity (henceforth "SCP-1880-1"). The object will then act as a two-way communication device, enabling the subject to hear and speak to SCP-1880-1, as well as allowing SCP-1880-1 some degree of influence over the subject. SCP-1880-1's voice (which could not be identified as either male or female) can be heard and recorded up to two (2) meters from SCP-1880's location during a conversation.
Attempts to communicate with SCP-1880-1 varied greatly in result: from a complete refusal of SCP-1880-1 to talk to the subject (fourteen times), a brief conversation (ten times), a lengthy discussion (five times), and finally SCP-1880-1 actively and unilaterally inserting information into the subject's mind (three times). Additionally, every subject attempting to use SCP-1880 will undergo a minor to moderate physical or mental alteration, even if the conversation was denied. No connection between the identity of the subject using SCP-1880 and the result has been found, and different results occurred even when using the same subject. Conversations with SCP-1880-1 are always broken from the entity's side, and all attempts to prematurely end a conversation with it thus far have failed.
SCP-1880 was delivered to MTF Sigma-5 ("Bronzeheads") commander ████ ██████ while he was off-duty on vacation in ████, █████ by a middle aged, Caucasian man wearing a grey suit and fedora. The man was waiting for ██████ in his hotel room when ██████ returned to it at around 03:00. When asked by ██████ for his identity, the man replied he was "Nobody". Commander ██████ attempted to subdue the man and bring him to questioning, but was overpowered and rendered unconscious. When ██████ recovered the following morning, he discovered SCP-1880 on his nightstand along with a note, reading "The knot was there for a reason". When ██████ touched SCP-1880, first contact with SCP-1880-1 was made. ██████ immediately brought SCP-1880 to Foundation custody.
Several theories about the nature of SCP-1880-1 have been made. Due to the lack of consistency in its actions, some researchers believe SCP-1880-1 is composed of several different "aspects", each interacting differently with subjects, while others theorize that SCP-1880-1 is not a single entity at all, but several unrelated ones.
Addendum 1880-A: The following are selected extracts from conversations made with SCP-1880-1.

Show Log SCP-1880-1-5

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Subject: D-1880-34
Supervisor: Dr. Shaw
Total length of conversation: 00:45 minutes (forty five seconds).
Foreword: This was the fifth successful attempt of conversing with SCP-1880-1.
<Begin Transcript>
D-1880-34: Um, hello?
SCP-1880-1: Pawn of Dionysus, you have been mistreated by this world.
D-1880-34: Huh? Who are you talking about?
SCP-1880-1: About you, poor child. The Heart sees you clearly, and takes pity on you. You need not fear the Maenads' wrath any longer.
D-1880-34: Doc, what the hell is this thing talking about?
Dr. Shaw: Focus, D-1880-34.
SCP-1880-1: It is done.
<Connection Terminated>
Closing statement: After this conversation, subject D-1880-34 showed a complete inability to become inebriated. D-1880-34 had a history of alcohol abuse, which was partly responsible for his entry into the D-class program.

Show Log SCP-1880-1-13

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Subject: D-1880-56
Supervisor: Dr. Shaw
Total length of conversation: 01:00 minutes (sixty seconds).
Foreword: This is the first of three direct data transfers made by SCP-1880-1.
<Begin Log>
D-1880-56: So, I just talk to this thing?
SCP-1880-1: How disappointing.
D-1880-56: Huh?
SCP-1880-1: I have nothing to gain from you. The emptiness of your mind leaves no place for me.
D-1880-56: Don't you fucking talk to me like that! Who the hell do you think you are?
SCP-1880-1: I am intellect, I am prowess, I am reason. I am Mind.
D-1880-56: I don't fucking care! Doc, I'm done talking to this thing, get me out!
Dr. Shaw: Sit down, D-1880-56. you will not be warned again.
D-1880-56: Screw that! I'm not saying another word to that invisible fucker!
SCP-1880-1: Such crassness. It is clear you were never taught how to address your betters. You will learn.
D-1880-56: Learn what?
SCP-1880-1: Everything.
D-1880-56: [Screams incoherently, loses consciousness]
<Connection Terminated>
Closing statement: Subject D-1880-56, previously without even a grade-school education, awoke from his unconsciousness displaying advance knowledge in history, physics, medicine, law and mathematics, as well as significantly increased social communication skills. Twenty four (24) hours after gaining this knowledge, D-1880-56 suffered a major cerebral aneurysm, leaving him in a vegetative state.

Show Log SCP-1880-1-19

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Subject: D-1880-63
Supervisor: Dr. Shaw
Total length of conversation: 450:00 minutes (seven hours and thirty minutes).
Foreword: This is the longest conversation recorded with SCP-1880-1. Subject D-1880-63 did not move from her chair throughout the entire length of the conversation. The following is taken from the ninety minutes mark of the conversation.
<Begin Log>
(01:30) D-1880-63: You don't say? And did he?
(01:30) SCP-1880-1: He did indeed, and did so well. Your father was such an interesting man.
(01:30) D-1880-63: I guess you could call him that, though I think the eggheads here wouldn't describe a career in bank robbery as "interesting". Thank you for telling me this, though. I never knew much about him.
(01:30) SCP-1880-1: This is my duty, my dear, and one I am happy to perform. What use is a Mouth that does not speak?
(01:30) D-1880-63: Eating?
(01:30) SCP-1880-1: Information is my food, and I hate to see others starve for it while I have so much. Themis will tell you the same, but he was never interested in the spreading of knowledge, only in hoarding it.
(01:30) D-1880-63: Themis?
(01:30) SCP-1880-1: It is of little consequence for you, my dear. Come, let us continue. Would you like to hear about your grandfather?
<End Log>
Closing statement: Subject D-1880-63's hair turned grey after the conversation ended. The subject expressed an interest in further conversing with SCP-1880-1, and described their conversation as "enlightening".

Show Log SCP-1880-1-23

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Subject: D-1880-71
Supervisor: Dr. Shaw
Total length of conversation: 01:50 minutes (one minute and fifty seconds).
Foreword: Subject D-1880-71 has proved very cooperative to Foundation personnel's orders prior to the conversation with SCP-1880-1, despite his violent record.
<Begin Log>
D-1880-71: [to Dr. Shaw] This is a real nice gem, Doc. Pretty.
SCP-1880-1: Ah, but not as pretty as she was.
D-1880-71: Wha- What are you talking about?
SCP-1880-1: Come now, no need to act so coy. You know what you did, and you relish it still. You think about it every night before you go to sleep.
D-1880-71: Shut up! You don't know anything about me!
SCP-1880-1: Oh, but I do. I have seen you do it, seen you caught, seen your trial, and how you were brought here. I am the Eye, Mr.███████, nothing is hidden from me.
D-1880-71: How do you know my name!?
SCP-1880-1: She screamed when you did it, and you enjoyed that. When you told the press you regretted what you did, you lied. You would do it again if you were ever given the chance. But, that is irrelevant, you will not leave this facility alive. Goodbye, Mr.███████.
<Connection Terminated>
Closing statement: Subject D-1880-71 eye color changed from blue to green following this conversation. The subject had to be physically restrained in order to keep him from damaging SCP-1880.

Addendum 1880-B: During the last recorded conversation with SCP-1880-1, it displayed previously unseen abilities to completely control the subject using SCP-1880, as well as additional unexpected capabilities (see Incident Report SCP-1880-C). Due to these recent developments, all experimentation on SCP-1880 has been suspended by order of O5-Command.

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On ██/██/████, during a conversation with SCP-1880-1, subject D-1880-82 suddenly entered a catatonic state for ten (10) seconds. Upon awakening from this state, the subject placed SCP-1880 on the experimentation chamber's table and addressed the research staff directly. Subject identified himself as "The Breath" and informed the staff he "found an aspect of interest (to him)". The subject proceeded to open the chamber's door (despite it being locked), but did not appear on its other side. Instead, security cameras caught the subject on the other side of Site-17, in SCP-████ containment chamber. D-1880-82 removed SCP-████, a Safe level object, from its storage unit, exited the chamber (which was also locked) and disappeared from Site-17 altogether. Subject D-1880-82 remains uncaptured, and SCP-████ was not recovered.

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SCP-1881's screen during play.

Item #: SCP-1881
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1881 is to be kept unplugged in a regular store room. Direct testing of the item is restricted to D-Classes, which are to be interviewed weekly regarding potential aftereffects.
Description: SCP-1881 is an arcade machine of early 80s design. The design is consistent with the [REDACTED] brand, but most identifying marks in the casing have been removed or painted over. A joystick and a single button are set on the console: a similar setup for a second player appears to have been removed. The machine's internals are [DATA EXPUNGED] resolution of 256x224, with 16 colors.
The machine is functional, even though the hardware appears to be partially damaged: the screen frequently displays rendering glitches, a good section of the game's images and text are corrupted, and the sound often cracks and distorts.
The "title" screen does not display a title or any credits, only the phrase "INS#RT COIN". The machine works with standard United States quarters, and only one quarter may be used at a time. Once a quarter is inserted, SCP-1881 launches its game, termed SCP-1881-B.
SCP-1881-B is divided in "stages", each of which has different rules of gameplay, and which succeed each other apparently at random. Commonly seen stages are:

"Spaceship": The player controls a spaceship under siege by an alien horde.
"Maze": A humanoid player-controlled figure moves around a maze, chased by bats or dragons. The goal is to acquire as many "golds" as possible before leaving the maze.
"Insect": The player avatar is a diminutive insect-like creature that must work its way up a large structure, while avoiding "spiders" and "frogs".
"Drive": The player controls a car driving a curvy road, while avoiding obstacles.
"Lines": An abstract puzzle game where the goal is to push lines around a field so as to surround bouncing "balls".
"Jungle": The player avatar is a human moving through a forest-like environment, populated with thematic enemies and obstacles such as crocodiles, snakes and quicksand.

Other stages appear more rarely, offering various skill and/or strategic challenges. Notably no luck-based games appear to be represented, nor "sports" games where the opponent is of equal strength to the player.
The stages themselves do not play in the same way when seen again: enemies increase or decrease in number, the player's movement and abilities change, and obstacles vanish and reappear. Notable cases include:

The "Spaceship" stage appearing with no enemies whatsoever: the only entity visible on screen was the player's ship, floating in empty space. The stage continued for about 3 minutes before the game declared "STAGE CL%AR" <sic>.
The "Insect" stage not docking lives from the player upon death, instead keeping the character's corpse on the screen. Reaching the top of the construction required assembling a mountain of the character's own corpses.
The "Jungle" stage's scenery being upside down, except for the player character, who fell off into the "sky".
The "Jungle" stage featuring [DATA EXPUNGED] as enemies.
The "Maze" stage having no exit, no powerups and progressively larger numbers of enemies until the player was overwhelmed.

About 30% of SCP-1881-B players report lasting psychological effects afterwards, in the form of nightmares related to its contents and occasional visual/auditory hallucinations (a common complaint is hearing sounds from the game when unaccompanied and in quiet areas). One interviewed case, who had access to SCP-1881 before it was contained, reported his home videogame console would occasionally launch SCP-1881-B instead of whatever game was inserted.
Note: SCP-1881 was recovered in ██/██/1982 from an arcade in ███████, Iowa, after a string of unexplained deaths of 7 teenagers, mostly males, called the Foundation's attention. All the victims died in their sleep, of respiratory arrest and/or cardiac attack. None of the victims suffered from life-threatening conditions beforehand: only 2 of the victims had a family history for heart conditions, and one for epilepsy. Of note is that names of five of the victims match initials in the SCP-1881-B's high score screen.

« SCP-1880 | SCP-1881 | SCP-1882 »


Item #: SCP-1882
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1882 is to be kept in a room that is shielded against electromagnetic signals. Attempts to open SCP-1882's casing must be made off-site, in locations untraceable to Foundation resources. A researcher must be available daily to determine the identity of SCP-1882-A and record it.
Possible new instances of SCP-1882 are to be subjected to Anti-Surveillance Procedure L4 (annexed) before extraction.
Description: SCP-1882 is a bakelite television set of the [REDACTED] brand. The power cord is missing, and the only identifying mark is the number "037" on the underside.
SCP-1882 was recovered from the residence of Mr. ███████ █████, who confessed to having purchased the item from the firm Marshall, Carter & Dark. Four other similar items have been recovered in raids of other MC&D customers, but were destroyed before proper containment procedures could be enacted. Attempts to record video or audio output from SCP-1882 have resulted in the destruction of the recording equipment. Similarly, an attempt to open SCP-1882's casing led to it emitting a microwave pulse - probably a signalling system.
Every day at 05:00 GMT, SCP-1882 spontaneously turns on and begins to broadcast a program. The format of the program does not vary, and follows the pattern described below:
05:00 - SCP-1882 turns itself on. The MC&D logo appears, accompained by a rendition of the first two movements of Haydn's Opus 76 no. 3.
05:03 - A female voice recites a list of digits. The digits change with each program, and have not been decoded so far.
05:15 - The scene changes to a bare room, barely lit from an unseen light source. A person (a different one each day, herefore called SCP-1882-A) is laying on the floor of the room, nude and unconscious.
05:30 (+/- 5 minutes) - SCP-1882-A wakes up. For the next 17 hours, their reactions vary from instance to instance, but are consistent with those of a person that has been removed from their regular life and locked in an empty room. The camera stays in a single spot, and is never remarked upon.
22:10 - Most instances of SCP-1882-A react as though they have heard noises from outside the room, although none can be heard by the viewer.
22:20 - Between three and five specimens of SCP-1882-B enter the field of view, and proceed to [DATA EXPUNGED]
22:45 - SCP-1882-B specimens retreat, leaving SCP-1882-A's corpse on the floor of the room.
23:00 - SCP-1882 turns itself off.
Of note is that while SCP-1882-A instances can all be traced back to people that were living at the time of the broadcast, there is no indication of these people disappearing, and in fact, the Foundation has monitored several "victims" leading their daily life parallel to their SCP-1882-A doubles being sequestered away. Current theory is that SCP-1882-A is a duplicate of the original individual, created solely for the purpose of the broadcast.
Notable instances of SCP-1882-A during the Foundation's possession of the item include:
20/12/2010 - █████ ███████, well-known actress and singer.
17/02/2011 - ███████ ██████, ex-president of ████████.
06/04/2011 - An adult Bengal tiger.
11/07/2011 - Dr. ████████, Level 3 Researcher of Site 75. Despite not knowing of SCP-1882's existence, Dr. ████████ surmised that he had been captured by enemy forces and engaged Protocol Phoebus 3.3, causing [REDACTED]. SCP-1882 switched back to the MC&D logo until regular turn-off time.
09/09/2011 - D-99221, enrolled at Site 65. D-99221 was transferred and presented to SCP-1882, but was unable to provide any new information regarding her appearance as SCP-1882-A. Interview and psychological debriefing of D-99221 annexed.
SCP-1882-B specimens are [DATA EXPUNGED]. Some are recognizable as formerly human, and three have been identified as previous instances of SCP-1882-A.

« SCP-1881 | SCP-1882 | SCP-1883 »


Screenshot of SCP-1883

Item #: SCP-1883
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: 17 copies of SCP-1883 are kept on mobile phones of various brands in storage at Wing D of Site 76. The phones are to be kept off when not in use, and only allowed to access the phone network through Site 76's secure data connection. When testing SCP-1883 tasks, ensure that targets of tasks are D-Classes or subjects abiding by the Ludd Antitechnic Directive (annexed).
All extant copies of SCP-1883 must be erased with expedience after their origin is ascertained. █████ and ██████ corporations have been instructed to report any copies of SCP-1883 to Sigma Computing & Programmatics, one of the Foundation's cover businesses.
Description: SCP-1883 is a "mobile app" or consumer software application designed to run on mobile phones running either ███ or ██████ operating systems. The interface for SCP-1883 consists of a single screen with a text area labeled "Score" and another labeled "Instructions".
Provided a phone with SCP-1883 is connected to the mobile network, the "Instructions" field will be updated every 5 to 9 hours with a new "task" that the holder of the mobile phone is to perform, and an award in "points". If this task is performed before the instruction field changes, the "Score" field is increased by the number of points described. It is not known how SCP-1883 detects whether a task has been completed.
Certain instructions require the user to interact with other human beings, by phone or in person. (e.g. "Call your friend that most hates spinach and tell them hello - 3 points") When such an interaction is performed, SCP-1883 spreads to the victim's mobile phone or phones through unknown means.
SCP-1883 has a subtle compulsive effect on users, who describe the application using words as "interesting" and "fun" and attempt to perform the tasks even if they are pointless, dangerous or unlawful. This effect increases with large groups of SCP-1883 users, who compete with each other for points and follow informal hierarchies based on each user's score.
SCP-1883 has come to the attention of the Foundation after the ██/██/████ incident, where at least 72 people in the cities of [REDACTED] irreparably wounded their left eyes with various household objects. Most of them were found to be in possession of a mobile phone with SCP-1883 installed.
Instruction Log:

Salute the sun. 1 point
Find a horse. Watch horse for 30 minutes. 7 points
Buy an ice cream cone and let it melt. Then eat the cone. 5 points
Bang your head against a wall. 3 points
Call your friend that most hates spinach and tell them hello. 3 points
Tell a stranger what you really think about them. 10 points
Turn gold into lead. 999 points
If Babe Ruth was that great, why did he need a bat?
Rob a bank. Only take quarters. 150 points
Convince another person that you are dead. 0.5 points
Find a yellow dog and kick it. no points
Eat something that has been in a grave. 200 points
Gain 5 points. 5 points
Ignore this task. 21 points
Walk on glass. Describe the noise it makes. 90 points
Love someone. 15 points
Burn an irreplaceable object. Replace it. 100 points
Breathe. -200 points
[DATA EXPUNGED] 300 points
[DATA EXPUNGED] 450 points
The real skeleton was inside you all along. Are we cool yet?

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