Iapetus The Acausal and Sir Ovens

Timeline:

- The Brothers Death create the Tree

- Yal and Mek are born from a branch of Yesod

- Scarlet King is born from the below

- The Maker of Wars and The Factory strike a deal with the Scarlet King to start a war. The Maker benefits from self-satisfaction, The Factory benefits from war profits, The Scarlet King benefits from absorbing enough power to break into The Tree.

- A pawn of the Scarlet King tricks the Precursor Bigfoots into believing the Fae are plotting to destroy them. The Precursor Bigfoots prepare a preemptive counterattack that enrage the Fae.

- Yal begins his crusade against Mek with the first wave of the creatures of flesh. Mek counters with his own automatons. These first-generation soldiers are almost formless and have no tactical advantages whatsoever.

- The Scarlet King launches his first wave of Leviathans upon The Tree through Ways prepared by The Maker of Wars. His forces are met by the creatures of flesh and the latter are swiftly dealt with.

- Yal starts research into creating a second generation of flesh creatures. He streamlines their design and starts creating Behemoths - multi-legged creatures that carry bio-weapons upon their backs. Mek's automatons are swiftly defeated in battle and Yal starts claiming more territory.

- Mek is approached by The Factory, who offers to help build Mek's machines with their own resources. Mek agrees and Warminds - sentient machine factories - are created. Warminds build Mek's weapons and basic troops. Said troops vary in design depending on their specialty.

-

Faction Prowess

Mekhane:

Generation 1 Automatons

Golems: Metal giants bent and twisted in various shapes. They are creatures of unrefined rock and metal that rely on brute force to overwhelm their foes. They will actively seek out organic material to break down and destroy and will be put out of commission if they are broken down into small enough pieces.

Solders: Turtle-like creatures made of rock and metal that spew hot molten metal from their shells. They breathe fire and spew molten material from their mouths.

Generation 2 Automatons

Gear Lords: Special Automatons that were granted power directly from Mekhane. As long as Mek lives, they can be rebuilt over and over again. Their role is to lead the regular Gears into battle.

Gears: Basic humanoid infantry troops. They have multiple classes based on their specifications. They can be outfitted with weapons based on their class, and sometimes even change classes or have multiple classes.

Potential Gods

Established SCP Gods:

  • Aiv-Zon / The Devourer: potential 1 time foe that gets cast into the void. Explicitly has little known about it from the sacred texts of the second Hytoth
  • [www.scpwiki.com/scp-3740 Ashur]: During this time was a great warlord that led his Pantheon to many victories. Only ends up in the state he is seen in the modern day due to the godly equivalent of extreme head trauma
  • Ptah and his Wife, Sekhmet: Ptah would be a badass in his own right but he mainly directs and supports his wife who is a terrifyingly powerful war and sun god. Her madness means that despite her strength she needs him to fight at full power/counter her weaknesses. A tale told from his perspective on their time during the war has good potential, but may also be very heavy since it would heavily involve abuse.
  • Deimos
  • "The Dog": not a god necessarily but a weapon from this time, before it was chained. A highly metaphorical tale that is in the style of a story children's book
  • The Broken Creation
  • Panglos
  • Anti-idea Regress/5800
  • Jalakara
  • Bodhisattva of the High Seas
  • Mary Nakayama (Minor appearance)
  • The Cicada: A blind great consumer. Hasn't reached full power yet
  • The Eternal Texts
  • Gothog the Mighty
  • Molug the Broken Fist
  • Carthac the Many-Faced Kin
  • Some of the Aztec Gods

http://www.scpwiki.com/forum/t-5320007/the-gods-of-the-scp-universe

New God Ideas:

  • Maker of Wars: a version of Wondertainment that the other versions will not discuss. Unlike every other version, this one created his toys for the sake of malice and harm to others. He is considered to be a great and terrible weapon smith
  • Pantheon: And he asked him, "What is thy name?" And he answered, saying, "My name is Pantheon, for we are many."
  • St. Tobias The Immutable even if he probably isn't actually a God. His written accounts could be a good source of info about the era as they are some of the only sources that can't be destroyed
  • Jarackos, The Bluetongued: loosely based on the bluetonged lizard from Australian mythology. A powerful sorcerer, whose most infamous ability is to conjure unceasing infernal "bushfires" that will endlessly pursue those he sends them after. While they are slow enough that they can be dodged or outran, if you stop moving for too long they will catch you regardless of how much distance you have put them and their target.
  • Entrant of The Great Game
  • Jizo Ajita: Bodhisattva or Bodhisattva esque entity combining a few aspects I like from other irl Buddha, primarily from Maitreya (Bodhisattva of The Future) and Kṣitigarbha (Bodhisattva of the damned and hellspawn). He is another one of the omniscient entities that heavily damage themselves before the birth of anti ideas.

Ideas and possible concepts

Gods are very hard to kill and are more often maimed to be put out of combat. Because of this it is common for gods to be nuked from existence or be shredded and be able to fight in a later battle once they have recovered, however long it may take. Weapons or beings that can kill a God are exceedingly rare, with maybe one or two at most being a part of a military force. However, what this means in practice is that warfare is more about long term incapacitation than killing them, and some of the ways that gods get hurt can be way worse than if they just died. The method by which gods are permanently incapacitated are even more horrific. Most of the Factions maintain prisons for sealing. Not all Gods necessarily need to be this hard to kill, but at that point its basically natural selection; the ones who don't die when they are killed will remain much longer than those that don't.

The various Gods of death are also partisans in the war, but most of them are in war with eachother over harvesting grounds. The focus on conflict with Eachother and the fact that they have to work primarily in established territories, while protecting their stashes, is why death doesn't hold here in particular. Major Gods even more so because most of the gods who weaponize vast armies of living creatures like the Fae Gods and Big Foot's nature goddess will cut some sort of deal with a God of death.

Even more rare than the ability to kill gods are the Gods who can create other gods. Even at high difficulty, these can be used to bring back gods that were otherwise completely lost causes via recreating them. Creating a completely new God is very difficult but recreating one is relatively easy. Gods come into existence relatively often during this time by just the nature of existence as opposed to other gods

Angels are being made by Gods as tools that usually have no free will, other than the higher class ones. Alternatively, they may be parasites on the divinity of gods


  • The Sayers were molded by the Fae Gods from the last remnants of IS.
  • While the Titles that grant Fae/Sayers abilities are usually earned, some are unique and can only be created when one is born with them. (The Hospitaller for example being a unique title for restoration and healing)
  • Sayers "lived in Eden," since even though they were at war, their ability to return from death with a mention of their name on top of their reality bending meant they could still live wonderfully enjoyable lives. Combat and warfare only made them stronger since they could gain more Titles through it
  • The exception, was Iros. He was born with a "cursed" Title, that inflicted concepts like "mortality", "limitation", "weakness," etc. Because of this, he lived a hard life of pain and suffering. He could not use his Fae arts to heal himself, or use most of the abilities usually granted to his kind
  • Instead of raising him up or caring for him, the other Fae ridiculed and mocked Iros.
  • At first Iros was good natured, but he grew spiteful after numerous years of torment from both the world around him and his own people.
  • Thus, when he knew his life was going to end soon, and his same title would stop him from rising again, he went out to the land of his people's enemies. He bled himself into the earth. His essence was shattered, and absorbed into the ore within the ground.

Before the first moment had past, and neither aether nor materia were formed, the first laws were carved into the rock of eternity. By these codes, all else abides. By these measures, all else is weighed.


Item #: SCP-XXXX

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: All instances of SCP-XXXX are to be kept in a secure storage locker at site 41. Foundation staff assigned to work with SCP-XXXX are to be given class R mnestics to counteract its information destruction. All documents regarding SCP-XXXX are to undergo data fortification via the inscription of various thaumic symbols into their source code.

Description: SCP-XXXX is the designation for antimemetic ammunition of various calibers. When SCP-XXXX ceases to be observed directly by the senses, all information regarding the SCP in question will be lost. SCP-XXXX is composed of an unknown informationally unstable black metal which is believed to be primarily responsible for SCP-XXXX's antimemetic effects, and direct contact with said metal will temporarily cause the subject to share the antimemetic effects of the ammunition. Unlike most antimemes which cause information to leak out of an effected individual's mind, the metal that composes SCP-XXXX is believed to cause the outright destruction of the information in question, as taking conventional mnestics after falling under its effects does not cause the recovery of previously lost memories. Due to this, class R mnestics1 are required to mitigate SCP-XXXX's effects.

Those shot with SCP-XXXX will instantly have all information about them destroyed, and said target will permanently take on antimemetic properties. Even if a target survives the bullet wound, they will undergo complete loss of all memories and knowledge at the most basic level, causing them to forget how to breath and expire shortly after.

All recovered instances of SCP-XXXX have come packaged in ammunition boxes, designated as SCP-XXXX-A, inscribed with thaumic runes which produce a mnestic effect. Proximity to SCP-XXXX-A allows individuals to not fall under SCP-XXXX's effects for a short time.

Discovery: SCP-XXXX was first discovered on ██/██/2014, following a failed assassination attempt on Antimemetics Division Head Marion Wheeler by one Gideon McCormick: A hit man with the anomalous ability to control the trajectory of projectiles. McCormick attempted to assassinate the division head via sniper rifle outside of her personal residence, but was stopped when SCP-4987 consumed his memories regarding the operation of fire arms. He was then detained by MTF Lambda-9, and SCP-XXXX was confiscated. Upon searching his primary residence, several more instances were found and obtained. McCormick resisted both mundane and memetic interrogation, although psionic methods eventually proved effective.

Under interrogation, it became clear that McCormick believed the user of SCP-XXXX was exempt from its primary anomalous effect, and would retain knowledge of a target following the homicide. McCormick had previously purchased several boxes from The Factory, who were also a frequent customer. Following the purchase of SCP-XXXX, McCormick's accepted contracts dropped significantly, and he seemingly did not complete a single contract while employing the anomaly in question. Despite this, several empty boxes of SCP-XXXX-A were found in his residence.

[Insert Symbol of some kind here]

In the age where man was still but water and clay, and the stars slept still unformed, the heavens knew not peace. In the era of the unspoken war where the seed of life was only just a sprout, it was not the wrath of fire gods, nor the weight of bloody fists that reigned. Though the kings of this age could form new great spells at their very whim, it was not this that brought down their mightiest foes. Instead, it was their unbound wisdom and apprehension that allowed them to find the unlikely ways to victory. Their kingdoms spread out from the lands of truth itself.

All who dared climb into their mountainous domains were ground to dust, returned to dust, or bound with burning stakes in the vaults of Abaddon. From fire and wind they carved angels to act as both open and closed hands. Despite their firm grasp those who found it in their nature to truly yield prospered if they found use. Most of their population were the angels, or fostered races whose creators were purged. Avatars of the most high pulled themselves Saints from the innumerable masses as emissaries of their will.

Of the few gods that thrived, their was Fabryka. Unlike all other Gods who in some way sought to hold court over others, the black god of creation cared for naught but the expansion of his stores and busy hands. He cloaked himself in mire, for it was the heads of kings and warmakers that an blade sought. Long he dwelled in the shadow of the Void-serpent, giving up a number of his servants so he could build his first workshops away from plunders. Many moons would wax and wane, before Fabryka emerged from the land of the forgotten.

Ahead of him, he sent an missive to three of the High lords, asking to enter their court and do them honors. Many an outsider had been turned away, but Fabryka had chosen his patrons well, so the gates of heaven were open unto him. With him he brought servant nor mule, only a sack from his treasury that weighed him down. Before so much as passing through the gates, he felt three sets of all seeing eyes reach his very core. Angels came down to take his pack, but he insisted on presenting his gifts himself. The three lords ceased the discussion between themselves, and without a word a flood of feathers had laid a stone slab for Four. Though their advisors and archangels attempted to disway, the three lords stepped down from their lofty thrones, to sit at the table with their guest.

In a lotus on the eastern end of the table, rested Jizo Ajita.

At the northern throne of marble and schemes, The Entrant of the Great Game set upright.

When the slumbering monarchs raised armies from their dreams, they produced screams that shook creation.
… [need to come up cool/cool sounding parallel examples of their omniscience dominating over strength since they could find any weakness in even the strongest enemy]
Then, came the Night of Black Visions.

The moon hung unblinking, forcing the chest of Father time to halt its beating. The tides stopped their churning, as the wind ceased its gallop, so the only sound across all creation was the wailing in the heavens. The all-seeing eyes ran with blood, while the soothsayers and prophets rang bells of a new age. The hands of scholar and scribe beckoned for Surgeon's fleam and Curer's mace.

Carthac, Many-Faced King of Hoards called his hosts of healing thrones and tillager dominions, to bring him a tainted feast. Liber, Keeper of Delights scried his complete magnum opus as he woke his every subject and servant, so he may show them one last night of merriment, the ultimate reminder why he alone carried the name "Father of Freedom." Tir of the Golden Soul leads his procession of Revelries and wine-gods; A lone, trailing servant bares hemlock worthy of a Philosopher King.

A Spider's Wisemen in distant sands were yet to be lost in the depths of their visions, so by writ of their lord they carved their prognosis into his fortress walls:

The warmaster is plagued by idle hands, and the tyrant grows comfortable with turned back; Sister Balance and Brother Strife call for cleansing blood. The sun will rise from the west, from whose most distant sea shall bring forth the first child of a new age. Seven Bleeding Gods of an Old World shall guard the shores, and even the King of the Darkness bellow will curse his name, but a pact forged with infernal brass will watch over him. In a gold palace under the shade of a Bodhi tree, he will know neither pain nor death, as the oldest laws of creation align along his path.

The miasmal tide shall pour forth and mix with the numeral waters of Apzu, .


In the dawn after the visions, when the serpent's own blood coursed with venom, the sun rose in the west. 5 seconds after dawn, the wind galloped, typhon breaks his black chains; The remaining scholars loosed their greatest prisoner to snuff out the leaking sun. The clocks strikes high noon. The wind refuses to blow. A child is born, that the wise men saw, of whom now only 1/5th remains.

The sun hangs stagnant in the sky. Balance cried to be satisfied.


On one night after Fabryka had used up all his ore, and sold all but his last blade, he went about making count of his vast store rooms. For the first time since he started, he dismissed his servants to rest, so he may survey his workshops in solitude. When he finished tallying even the smallest coin, and the furthest depths of his vast mines, sat back in his velvet throne. Fabryka, for the first time, realized that he had more wealth than he or any of his children could ever spend. Since he had dawned it on the day of his birth, Fabryka went to remove his cloak, but no matter how hard he tugged, he could not free himself from it. He examined the seems, and found their grimed stitches had become woven into his very soul.

Where others may have then looked inward, Fabryka looked nowhere but forward. He called upon his servants to build more store houses, and opened up his workshops once again, before beginning another pilgrimage to that far off mountain.

Why Do We Fall?

A child stood at the edge of his father's homestead and stared at the starry night sky. His hand was wrapped around his arm, nursing a recent wound he had received.

A voice cried out to the child in paternal worry. He turned to face his father's figure waving at him from the doorstep. The child was afraid. He had once again been bullied out in the fields by the other children. His father stepped out of their home, and went over to his son. He tried reaching out to him, but the child jerked back.

"What troubles you, my son?" The father asked in concern.

The child remained silent as he stared at the ground. His father glanced over to his son's arm and saw the bruises he had gotten. He bent down to his son's level and took a closer look at his face. He saw that his son had suffered similar bruising to his face. In that instant, he understood the nature of his son's predicament.

"Did the other mud children do this to you?" The father asked once more.

A brief moment of silence was shared between them before the child nodded slowly. The father inhaled deeply as he stood back up.

"Come. Get washed up. Your mother has prepared dinner."