DrChandra's Sandbox

Every GoI/Kaiju Attack » DrChandra's Sandbox

"Additionally, the author is encouraged to remember that this is an SCP data file, not a tale." -djkaktus, SCP-4000 runner up.

UwU

SOM64/B2DI5/3GYO7
Status	Selling
Demand	High
Value	3 500 000 GBP/4 500 000 USD per body, plus 154 000 GBP/200 000 USD annual storage fee
Availability	Unlimited
Identifier	Somatic Backups
Description	Our members know that neither death nor taxes are truly inevitable. No matter what vicissitudes should befall your mortal coil, you can rest easy knowing you have another one ready to go at a moment's notice. Our essokinetic specialist will materialize a living yet souless body and ensure complete incarnation of your spirit. Spare bodies can be held in extradimensional stasis until needed for a minor fee. Disclaimer: Somatic customization, while possible, is ill-advised as the chances of side effects increase exponentially with each deviation from the spirit's original form. MC&D is not responsible for any side effects caused by requested customization.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, LLP

Initial Report
Author	Dr. Neurosis	Date	The 3rd Gumday^TM of Superember^TM, 109th Wonderyear^TM
Interest	High	Identifier	Somatic Backups
Wowee, I can't believe I'm really here at MC&D! We heard a lot of spectacularly spooky stories about this place back at Wonder Tower, but I want you to know that I never believed them for a sizzling hot minute. Everyone here has been nothing but nice to me so far, even that demon who writes in all caps! Especially the demon, actually. Honestly, he's nicer than anything called a demon has any business being. Before I get to my project I just need to make it clear that Dr. Neurosis is not my real name, and I am currently incognito since I'm a wanted enemy of no less than three other anomalous organizations. That's just how life goes sometimes, but fourth time's the charm, right? Give or take? Anyway, my anonymity is part of my contract here, so anyone who may be privy to my actual identity is to keep it to themselves. Also, I'd like to thank Ms. Dark again for headhunting me so proactively. If it weren't for her, I'd be in a very very not-G rated place right now. Just thinking about what might have happened if she had shown up only a few minutes later makes me sick to my stomach and weak in the knees, I tell you. Out of all the deservedly horrible fates that could have befallen me, working for you is as wonderific as it is unjust! Now for my project! It's really unlike anything you've got right now, even those Anderson replicants . You see, I have this pocket dimension kind of thing I call my Headspace. It's like the inside of your head, but outside of your head, and without having to crack your head open. Normally only imaginary things can exist inside of a Headspace, but I came up with a patented method to transform dreamy stuff into stuffy stuff! I go to my Headspace, dream up whatever I want, then make it real and bring it back with me! I mostly used this for rapid prototyping of inventions, and I'll still use it to make all sorts of wonderful products in the future that will help you compete with Wondertainment in the magic toy market, but my most miraculously wonderous creation was my own body! The body I'm in right now used to be imaginary, and my real one's dead! How amazing is that? I've also made a body for my girlfriend (who also used to be dead, as fate would have it) and I can make bodies for your clients too! Whether they're alive or dead, I just need them to step into my Headspace and I'll turn their imaginary body real! They can either have it right away or keep it in there until they need it, just like I did! There are some caveats, of course. As you all know, and I also know as long as I don't miss a dose of my meds, the real world isn't the same as our dreams. That's why things I make in my Headspace don't necessarily work outside of it. This is especially important when it comes to living bodies. I can't just make whatever body someone wants and then shove their soul into it and expect it to work. That's like, shoving a square peg into a round peg because you don't even know that pegs are supposed to go into holes. I can do some minor cosmetic or medical adjustments, sure, but any major changes is just asking for trouble. But let's not focus on everything that could go wrong. Everything's already gone wrong for me, so what else could happen, right? Let's have some fun!
File Opened Under:		SOM64/B2DI5/3GYO7

Memo 01
SOM64/B2DI5/3GYO7
Sender	Ruprecht Carter	Recipient	Doctor Neurosis
Fresh off the boat, I see. We can work on you learning our corporate culture later, after you make me a new body. I'm no stranger to hopping bodies, I've been doing it since the turn of the last century. While all the bodies I've inhabited have been up to certain standards, none of them have been perfect. Sadly, the pool of donor bodies comes almost exclusively from the desperate and impoverished, and it's never quite sat right with me that my aristocratic soul should dwell in a body of common stock. I was absolutely tickled pink when I heard Iris had snatched up someone who can materialize entirely new bodies out of dream matter. I'll meet you in the London Office at 10 AM tomorrow, but I don't want a copy of my present body. We'll work out the specifics once I'm in your Headspace, but overall I expect you to make a idealized version of my original body. I hope you're up for the challenge. Your job depends on it.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, LLP

Incident Report 01
SOM64/B2DI5/3GYO7
Author	Doctor Neurosis	Date	The 3rd Wowday^TM of Superember^TM, 109th Wonderyear^TM
Oh, jimminy gee golly this is bad. I should start at the beginning, I guess. That's what beginnings are for, after all. So, I took Mr. Carter into my Headspace and he took on the dreamform he wanted me to manifest. I tried to talk him into downgrading a bit, but he was insistent. Reluctantly, I set about manifesting the body. The first problem came about when he couldn't hold his ideal body long enough for me to manifest it. It takes a lot of concentration to hold a dreamform that's the absolute opposite of your true self, after all, and I got the impression that Mr. Carter doesn't have the strongest cognitive stamina to begin with. Halfway through the manifestation process, his dreamform lapsed into a projection of his… let's say avaricious nature. Who am I kidding, the thing was a monster. So there I am with a half-real, half-imaginary, half-human, half-monster and all angry Mr. Carter. He was demanding I do something, and I may have panicked a little, and I hit the eject button. That's supposed to throw all the real stuff back into our reality and all the imaginary stuff into the wider dreamspace. I got out no problem, but it seems that due to Mr. Carter's nonbinary status in regards to being real or not at the time, he ended getting chucked into La La Land. Bottom line, Mr. Carter's body is still unconscious in my office, and his consciousness is adrift somewhere in the Oneiroi Collective. Hasn't found its way back yet. I reported all of this to Ms. Dark immediately of course, who took the news surprisingly well. She assured me she would handle it and told me to just write up an incident report, so here it is. I feel so bad. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, LLP

Memo 02
SOM64/B2DI5/3GYO7
Sender	Iris Dark	Recipient	Doctor Neurosis
Brian, we just tested the vacant bodies you provided us with. They do produce a bit of EVE, but nothing near what a person would. It's roughly on par with what we would expect from an equivalent biomass of single-celled organisms. They'll work as a source of EVE in a pinch, but their main use will likely be as organ donors for medical and research purposes. They could also come in handy if we ever find ourselves in need of decoy bodies. I don't know if it's come up yet, but when someone inevitably requests a vacant body for 'recreational purposes', that's to be denied. The main appeal of this product is eternal life, and I don't want any necrophiliacs sullying that appeal. Oh, and don't worry about Ruprecht. It was his own bloody fault anyway, and I have the situation well in hand. I texted a client of ours who visits the Oneiroi Collective regularly and she assured me she'll take a look for him the next time she's there.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, LLP

External Report 01
SOM64/B2DI5/3GYO7
Organisation	Oneiroi Collective	Acquired	The 3rd Meloday^TM of Superember^TM, 109th Wonderyear^TM
Method of Acquisition	Recovered from Oneiroi social media site

Marshall, Carter and Dark, LLP

Memo 03
SOM64/B2DI5/3GYO7
Sender	Ruprecht Carter	Recipient	Doctor Neurosis, all executive contacts
For 165 years, I have been a senior partner in this company. I helped found it, I funded it out of my own pocket, I've been its public face and I am the only partner with the degree of charm and charisma necessary to land and keep big clients and investors, and when I go missing the entirety of the rescue attempt is an imaginary tweet sent by a dreaming Clown!? Sorry to disappoint so many of you, but I am back. Existing as an unmoored consciousness amidst the surreal chaos and liberal claptrap that is Oneiroi West was no walk in the park, but after what appears to have been two or three days I was able to make my way back to my body, which for some reason was still in Doctor Neurosis' office. No one could be bothered to take me to my penthouse? I am livid, do you people hear me? Livid! I want Neurosis fired, I want his assistant fired, I want his entire project shut down, if there's literally anything I can do to Iris for just letting me wallow in a literal nightmare world I want that done too, and I want the dates in this file changed to make some kind of sense!
Marshall, Carter and Dark, LLP

Memo 04
SOM64/B2DI5/3GYO7
Sender	Hr'asm'Kal	Recipient	Ruprecht Carter
HELLO MR. CARTER UNFORTUNATELY I HAVE TO INFORM YOU THAT THE COMPANY IS UNABLE TO ACT UPON ANY OF YOUR REQUESTS FROM YOUR PREVIOUS E-MAIL. YOU HAVE NO AUTHORITY OVER DARK'S TECH TEAM, SO WE CAN'T FIRE ANYONE FROM THERE JUST ON YOUR SAY SO. BOTH OF THE MARSHALLS AND BOTH OF THE DARK(E)S WANT THIS PROJECT TO CONTINUE, SO I'M AFRAID YOU'RE OUTVOTED. PLUS, AS JUNIOR VP OF PRODUCT DEVELOPMENT, I CANNOT CONDONE SHUTTING DOWN SUCH A LUCRATIVE PROJECT SIMPLY BECAUSE OF A SINGLE UNFORTUNATE INCIDENT. NEUROSIS HAS ALREADY REDESIGNED THE EJECT FEATURE TO PREVENT SIMILAR MISHAPS FROM HAPPENING IN THE FUTURE, SO NO PROBLEMS THERE. NEUROSIS IS ALSO FREE TO USE THE WONDER WORLD CALENDAR SYSTEM, AS IT IS OFFICIALLY RECOGNIZED BY BOTH THE COUNCIL OF 108 AND THE WANDERER'S LIBRARY. SO LONG AS IT'S AN OFFICIAL, VALID SYSTEM THAT CAN BE CONVERTED TO THE COMMON CALENDAR, IT'S NOT A PROBLEM. THERE IS ALSO NO CAUSE TO DISCIPLINE MS. DARK. SHE VERY PROMPTLY ARRANGED FOR A REALITY BENDING DREAMWALKER TO LOCATE YOU, AND WE FEEL THAT WAS BOTH AN APPROPRIATE AND ADEQUATE RESPONSE. I APOLOGIZE IF YOU FEEL THE STAFF DID NOT REACT WITH SUFFICIENT URGENCY, BUT IN ALL FAIRNESS YOU WERE NOT IN ANY IMMEDIATE DANGER. ACCORDING TO ICKIS THE WAYWARDS'S TRAVELOGUE, ONEIROI WEST IS "A LOVELY REALM WITH A CHARMING AND WHIMSICAL POPULACE, WHO HAVE UNLEASHED THE FULL POTENTIAL OF THE IMAGINATION BY SHEPHERDING THE SURREAL INTO A PHANTASMAGORIA SURE TO DELIGHT, AMAZE AND PERPLEX EVEN THE MOST LEARNED AND COSMOPOLITAN OF WANDERERS". IF IT HELPS, THEY PROBABLY HATED HAVING YOU THERE AT LEAST AS MUCH AS YOU HATED BEING THERE.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, LLP

External Report 02
SOM64/B2DI5/3GYO7
Organisation	Oneiroi Collective	Acquired	The 4th Hollerday^TM of Superember^TM, 109th Wonderyear^TM
Method of Acquisition	Recovered from Oneiroi social media site

Marshall, Carter and Dark, LLP

Memo 05
SOM64/B2DI5/3GYO7
Sender	Percival Darke	Recipient	Ruprecht Carter
Ruprecht, do you have any idea how hard won my contract with the Centaurial Dreamsmiths was? How vital their craft is to my work with Abstract Occultism? Know that I hold you solely responsible for this debacle. It matters not to me that Neurosis was technically at fault for your expulsion into the Dreamsphere, and I fully agree with Iris that your recovery hardly seemed to be an urgent priority. There is no excuse for a man of your age, no matter how narcissistic or epicurean, to devolve into a being of pure id like that. Had you ever bothered to study Planewalking, or lucid dreaming, and perhaps merely mindfulness meditation this could have been avoided. Ruprecht, you will do whatever is necessary to restore our relations with the Oneiroi. I've already told Iris to contact the Dreamwalker at the Circus of the Disquieting to see if she would be willing to parley on our behalf with the Collective. Your fate, Ruprecht, is now in the slumbering hands of a spasmodically saccharine Bozomorphoric confricatrice.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, LLP

Memo 06
SOM64/B2DI5/3GYO7
Sender	Iris Dark	Recipient	Ruprecht Carter, all executive contacts
The good news is that Lolly was able to get Oneiroi West to agree to send a representative to Neurosis's Headspace to negotiate terms of compensation. Ruprecht will be required to be present throughout the negotiations and issue a formal apology. I would like to make it clear that Ruprecht's participation in this is mandatory. Salvaging our relations with the Oneiroi is crucial, not only for economic reasons but also because we cannot afford to make enemies with a global incorporeal hivemind that can invade our dreams. Ruprecht will therefore require a proper dreamform that won't deteriorate into a mindless slime monster, so I'm authorizing Dr. Neurosis to design one on his behalf. Considering what happened last time, Ruprecht himself is not permitted any input on this dreamform, and its design will be entirely at Neurosis's discretion. So long as it is functional and aesthetically appropriate for its intended purpose, Neurosis is authorized and even encouraged to follow his whimsy. I would, however, like to request that the dreamform be one that Ruprecht would consider… humbling. If I especially like it, I may even grant Neurosis permission to materialize it so that Ruprecht can use it as his new body. That is after all how all of this started, and it would be unfair to Ruprecht to have to go through such an ordeal and come out empty handed.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, LLP

(Possible finale memo. Let me know if it's funny or just vulgar, and the x's won't be visible on the mainsite)

Memo 07 (Draft, Unsent)
SOM64/B2DI5/3GYO7
Sender	Ruprecht Carter	Recipient	Iris Dark
Bite my bellend you minging munter. xxxxxxxxxxxx xxxx xxxxxxxx xxxx xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx
Marshall, Carter and Dark, LLP

Item #: SCP-4114

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: Each time SCP-4114 surrenders itself to Foundation custody, it is to be placed within a level-6 full body restraint with incorporated anti-thaumatological countermeasures, and held within a maximum security humanoid containment cell. SCP-4114 is to be implanted with a GPS locator as well as subjected to uninterrupted video surveillance so that it may be studied up until it breaches containment.

Guards assigned to retrieval or containment of SCP-4114 are instructed to use minimal forces as much as is feasible, and tests must be minimally invasive, as SCP-4114 will breach containment immediately upon believing itself to be in mortal danger.

Description: SCP-4114 appears to be a young woman of Vietnamese descent, and is a self professed 'Occult Escapologist'. In addition to extreme flexibility, SCP-4114 has demonstrated the ability to contort its body into anatomically impossible configurations in order to escape from restraints, without suffering any pain or injury.

Observed physical anomalies include:

Stretching both hard and soft tissue by over %100.
Compressing its body to a thickness of only 3 millimeters.
Detaching and reattaching bones at will.
All joints capable of rotating 360 degrees.
Fully prehensile feet.
The ability to generate sufficient Van der Waals forces in its hands and feet to allow it to scale vertical surfaces.
Brief bursts of superhuman strength, beyond which its muscle mass should be capable of providing or its bones capable of enduring without fracture.

Additionally, SCP-4114 had demonstrated an anomalous expertise in disabling both physical and electronic locks, including a degree of probability manipulation. When remaining relatively still and silent, SCP-4114 possesses a mild anti-memetic effect, and can go unnoticed so long as it does not draw attention to itself.

SCP-4114 has also proven to be adept at pick-pocketing and manipulating personnel assign to it, though it has yet to be proven that this is anomalous in danger.

SCP-4114 has managed to successfully breach containment ██ times. All attached or implanted tracking devices fail after SCP-4114 has left the general proximity of its containment site. To date, SCP-4114 has always been recovered by MTF Kappa-14 "AH! Sideshow Bob!" during their investigations of GoI-233 activity. SCP-4114 as always willingly surrendered itself to Foundation custody, and has often been found waiting expectantly.

Latest Interview with SCP-4114:

Interviewer: Kappa-14 Commander

Interviewee: SCP-4114

<Begin Log>

MTF Kappa-14 reaches the Chattanooga Fairgrounds, where SCP-4114 is in a straight jacket and hung upside down over a lit brazier.

SCP-4114: It's about time you guys got here.

Kappa-14 Commander: SCP-4114. Pleasure as always.

SCP-4114: Come on Chad, this isn't an official interview. You can call me Tien.

Kappa-14 Commander: That's Commander Chadwick to you, and this is an official interview. Brass ordered me to grill you as soon as we find you, since we never know when you're going to pull a Houdini.

SCP-4114: You're not even going to help me down first?

Kappa-14 Commander: No, you're fine. First question: Are you providing the Circus with intelligence regarding the Foundation?

SCP-4114: I haven't the slightest idea what you could be talking about.

Kappa-14 Commander: So why do you keep letting us capture you then just run back to them?

SCP-4114: I gotta work. I love the challenge of breaking out of your Keter cages, but that's not going to pay off my student loans.

Kappa-14 Commander: And this is what you do for the Circus then? Escape Artist?

SCP-4114:

"Delivery, Spicy Crust Pizzeria!" Tyrone said as he pounded on the home's front door. He didn't usually do deliveries, but their regular driver had called in sick. If it had been up to Tyrone, he would have told the driver to suck it up, but the Foundation was extremely strict about its fronts following all applicable health and labour regulations so as to avoid attracting any unwanted attention.

The house Tyrone had been sent to was just on the edge of their delivery radius, and in a depopulated neighborhood that was depressingly run-down and uncannily quiet. All he could hear was the buzzing of insects. "Are those Cicadas? Didn't know they were out this year."

The door creaked opened, revealing a middle-aged man with eyes that sat abnormally still in their sockets.

"Cousin Johnny? Good to see you man, I didn't know you were living out here," Tyrone greeted enthusiastically.

Hold up, I don't know this guy. Why'd I call him Cousin Johnny?

"Turn crumpet anvil pie, Orville meek come coin?" the man said in an emotionless monotone.

"What are you talking about? This is a sweet set up you got here. I would've brought a gift if I had known," Tyrone replied.

Wait, he didn't actually say anything, did he?

"Anyway, I got your pizzas here. You having a party or something?"

"Narrow glue pascal row. Furnace did hiccup bets for singing window," the man said as he gestured towards a dozen or so people gathered in the living area.

"Oh, you're doing a celebration of life kind of thing? With pizza? I mean, it's good pizza, but I'd personally go for something a little classier, like those little triangle sandwich platters. I'm sorry, I don't mean any disrespect, you just caught me off guard. My condolences for your loss. Anyone I knew?"

"Turmoil jelly branch oil monolith. Query off said honor pick nettle very."

"Still, I feel for you."

Okay, something's up. That damn corncrake made more sense than this guy.

"Sorry, you probably want to get back to your guests. I won't keep you with a bunch of platitudes I'm sure you've heard a dozen times today already. Your pizzas are going to be $63.30. How are you paying?"

"Yellow fix heckle plumb inlet," the man said as he handed Tyrone a hundred dollar bill. "Cheery deluxe, summer little offshore Myanmar?"

"I'm flattered, but I got to get back to the Pizzeria. Ever since they jumped on the fifteen-dollar minimum wage bandwagon they've been a hell of lot stricter about us not slacking off. And someone's got to deliver these things, you know?"

"Lilac coincidence try, fire gander onyx pea?"

"It's tempting, but I still don't think my supervisor would go for it."

"Pisces gravel en suite fume twins?"

"Well if it was a life or death scenario, sure, but the guy's already dead, so that's not going to fly."

"Alley box gym kite pill fly?"

"Even if you pay him my time, no. Rules are rules."

"Hiram neat go vile when tuck?"

"What can I say, man? Better off scrubbing doody than Keter duty."

…

"What?"

Tyrone just smirked and shook his head.

"Just an expression from my time in the service, don't worry about it. Look, I'd love to stay, really, but…"

Seriously, get out of here now. This dead-eyed motherfucker is speaking gibberish. I don't know why I think I can understand him, but there's no way in hell it's anything good.

"Yeah man, it's real considerate of you, but I don't want to impose. I didn't even know the guy. You just enjoy those pizzas man, and thanks for the tip."

"Cradle mock kindle with dreary taste."

Tyrone laughed as he backed towards the delivery truck.

"Oh man, you got to be careful. You know you can't make those kind of jokes anymore. You take care of yourself Johnny. And again, my condolences."

The man shut the door and Tyrone fell into the cab of his truck, nearly collapsing. His head pounded as his extensive memetic inoculations fought ferociously against whatever the man had tried to do to him. Pulling out his phone, he dialed his supervisor.

"It's Tyrone. I'm at the delivery you sent me on. Something weird just happened, not sure what. I think it's a cognitohazard though and I think I've been exposed. My head's killing me, I can't drive. Get a response team out here now."

Cousin Johnny walked into the living room and placed the pizzas on an end table. He stood before his assembled guests and solemnly stripped off his clothes.

"Gum jump noon clap. Sorry why arrow lent flappy ox."

Johnny laid his nude form down on the coffee table, and his mourning guests respectfully began pulling off chunks of his flesh to devour.

"I still think you were out of line asking him to buy us pizza," one guest said to another as he bit into Cousin Johnny's left deltoid. "This is a ritual, you know, not a buffet. What's it matter if there's not enough of him to go around?"

The other guest shrugged as he piled pieces of Cousin Johnny onto a slice of pizza.

"Traditions are made to be broken old man. If I got to eat Cousin Johnny, the least he can do is make himself a little easier to swallow."

"Cough fight hen odor," Johnny joked with a wriggle of his penis, to the rancorous laughter of all present.

"Cousin Johnny, you're incorrigible."

Note to Beta Readers: This is intended to be a short, simple, vaguely Series Iish 'magic object' scip. Let me know how it works.

Item# : SCP-3xxx

Object Class: Safe.

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-3xxx is to be placed within a containment chamber separated from all other rooms and corridors by a distance of no less than eight meters. Testing is to be conducted within SCP-3xxx's containment chamber as much as practical.

If for any reason SCP-3xxx must be moved, a route must first be filed with and approved by Site Administration. SCP-3xxx is to be transported by a single level-two containment specialist, with all personnel removed from the the approved route before SCP-3xxx is moved. This should preferably be done after regular working hours, so as to minimize both the risk of exposure and disruption to Site operations.

Personnel within an eight meter radius of SCP-3xxx, regardless of any intervening obstacles, are to refrain from clapping or producing any sound or action that could be reasonably interpreted as clapping.

Description: SCP-3xxx is a dark blue torus approximately fifteen centimeters in diameter and six centimeters in height, composed of an unknown mineral. Both the top and bottom of the torus's aperture are covered by a pewter cap. Non-invasive imaging has revealed no inner mechanisms.

When an individual claps twice in quick succession within a roughly six meter radius of SCP-3xxx, they will immediately enter Stage 1 non-REM sleep, becoming an instance of SCP-3xxx-1. It should be noted that SCP-3xxx has no apparent mechanism for detecting sound waves, and insulating it or the subject from sound will not impede its anomalous effects. Recordings of clapping, as well as a specially-created clapping machine, do not activate SCP-3xxx's anomalous effects. Physically coercing an individual to clap will result in the coercer becoming an SCP-3xxx-1 instance, so long as they are within a six meter radius. Coercing D-class to clap utilizing remotely operated or pre-programmed devices yielded no results.

SCP-3xxx-1 instances appear for all intents and purposes to merely be asleep, with the exception that they are unable to wake. To date, neither sensory, physical, pharmacological or transcranial¹ stimulation has been capable of rousing instances of SCP-3xxx-1. Instances of SCP-3xxx-1 will sleep indefinitely, and will eventually expire if not provided with intravenous nutrition. Removing SCP-3xxx-1 instances from SCP-3xxx's area of effect will not revive them.

Addendum: SCP-3xxx was found to possess the following inscription on its bottom cap, alluding to its function.

The Slumbering Prince's Sleepy Clapper Sleep-aid is the only 100 percent guaranteed way to get an uninterrupted night's sleep. Simply place the Clapper anywhere in your sleeping quarters, within twenty feet of your bed, and clap twice. You'll be out like a light.

To wake up, just clap twice again.

Pleasant Dreams.

Experiments attempting to uncover if a second set of claps could awaken an instance of SCP-3xxx-1 have been unsuccessful. Various recordings of SCP-3xxx-1 clapping, as well as manual and robotic attempts to induce SCP-3xxx-1 to clap, have also failed to restore them to wakefulness.

At present, there is no known method to wake an individual under the effects of SCP-3xxx.

Beta readers: Tretter, amnestic_protocol, stormbreath,

“Hello, and welcome to Spicy Crust Pizza. How can I help you to… oh shit.”

Tyrone, formerly D-23545, was rendered speechless by the sight of the ageing, ragged man standing across the counter from him. He looked older than Tyrone knew him to be, like the ten years that had passed since they last met had somehow made due for thirty. Ill-groomed, ill-dressed and ill-shaven, eyes heavy and sunken, bloodshot from a chronic dearth of sleep. His cheeks were hollowed, gaunt to the point of near starvation. Tyrone didn’t know exactly what the past decade had been like for this man, but he did know that he was the cause of it.

“Hey Mr. Clines, what are you doing out here?” he murmured so softly it was barely audible. The man just shook his head in disgust.

“Heard you were out of prison. I had to see it for myself,” he sneered.

“Yeah. I’m out.”

“How is that possible? You were serving twenty-five to life. You shouldn’t even be eligible for parole for fifteen years! Did you break out?”

“No man, this is all legit. They let me out early. Good behaviour, and all that.”

“Horseshit. You’re a fucking kid killer, they don’t just let -”

“It was manslaughter, actually. I didn’t mean to… look, I can’t say much about it, but I cut a deal, alright?”

“What sort of deal gets a piece of shit like you out of prison fifteen years early?” Clines demanded, disgusted with the injustice that the man who had killed his child was now free.

Tyrone had to suppress an urge to smirk at the irony of it. Many times during his decade of service to the Foundation, he and his fellow D-Class had often debated the ethics of what the Foundation was using them for. Never once did any of them claim that the fact they were getting time off their sentences might be the unethical part.

“I literally can’t say much,” Tyrone said truthfully, his implanted memetic compulsions preventing him from speaking of the anomalous to civilians. “But there are some people who need convicts to do some shitty, high-risk work for them. You do the work, you get time off your sentence. It’s kind of fucked up, yeah, but you keep your end of the bargain, they keep theirs. I’m in a half-way house now, here as part of a work-release program.”

“How wonderful for you,” Clines sneered. Tyrone quickly glanced down to see that Mr. Clines was fingering something in his pocket.

“You got a piece on you Mr. Clines?” he asked calmly as he surreptitiously hit the silent alarm.

“Do you really think you deserve to be free, after what you did?” Clines asked, his voice cracking as he held back hot tears. “You killed her, took her life, and you were supposed to pay with yours! Every day until you die, rotting away in prison, and some government assholes decided that because you did some dirty work for them ten years is good enough? Do you know what I would give for ten more years with her? Do you think that what you did is worth anywhere near the life you took?”

Tyrone’s first instinct was to say ‘of course not’, but then he thought of everything he had been through in the past ten years. All the extra-dimensional and anomalous locations he had explored, all the magic objects he had interacted with, all the monsters he had fought and ran from and stared down, and all the other D-class who hadn’t been as lucky as him.

“I… you know what? Yeah, I do actually. I accept that I got your daughter killed, but it wasn’t murder, and I’ve lived with that guilt every day for the past ten years and I’ll live with it every day until I die. But during the past ten years, I’ve almost died myself, more than once! I’ve risked my life, and the work I was doing saved more lives than I can count. That sounds like the scales of justice are balanced to me.”

“You really think that?” Clines asked, eyeing the security camera and the customers and employees who were staring at them while giving them a wide berth. He knew that if he shot Tyrone he’d be convicted of murder himself. He just hadn’t decided if that was worth it or not. “This hole you’ve left inside me and everyone else who cared about her hasn’t been filled. There’s nothing, nothing, you can do that will ever bring her back. No amount of lives you save can ever make up for the life you took!”

Again, the irony was almost funny. The Foundation always justified what they did through cold utilitarianism. Tyrone had even known a researcher who had estimated the ratio of babies the Foundation fed to demons to the number of people saved by doing so. He kept that ratio pinned to his work tablet, as a constant reminder that what they doing was, according to some ethic systems at least, good.

That researcher had still hung himself.

Was this really how it was going to end? After ten years, surviving everything the Foundation had put him through, he was going to be murdered working the cash register at a pizzeria? Was Clines right? Maybe. He did have a point after all; saving the living can’t bring back the dead.

“Mr. Clines, you’re right that nothing I’ve done will bring your daughter back, but killing me won’t fix that either. You shoot me, she’s still dead, you take my place in prison with that hole inside you still there, and my mother who's so happy to have me back after ten years will feel just as bad as you do now. Is that what you want to do? The lives I saved may not do you any good, but it sure stopped a hell of a lot of people from feeling what you do. If you really don't think that's worth anything, and that making my mother as miserable as you are now will make your burden easier to bear, then take your shot man. I won’t stop you. Otherwise, either order something or get out of the way. I recommend the Mozza sticks.”

After a moment of hesitation, Clines pulled out his gun - but holding it by the shaft instead of the handle. He placed it on the counter.

"I'm going to leave that here. I don't trust myself with it. I shouldn't even have it."

"This country, right?" Tyrone smirked, desperate to break the tension. "Man, you look like hell. If you need help I can -"

"You can help me by keeping yourself out of trouble. Best of luck to you, Tyrone."

"Take care of yourself Mr. Clines."

Throwing up his hood, Clines ran past the bystanders and out the front door. Tyrone handed the gun to his supervisor, but remained at his post.

"Ladies and Gentleman, I'm sorry you had to see that. My supervisor here is going to be handing out free pizza coupons as compensation for your disturbance."

"Dude, that was awesome!" a teenage boy swooned. "How'd you keep your cool when you knew that guy could've shot you at any second?"

Tyrone laughed, the answer being all too obvious.

"Kid, in the service I was in, the first thing everyone learned was 'Don't Blink'."

SMR82/H0EX3/4DNV9
Status	Selling
Demand	Medium
Value	1200-6000 GBP/1680-8400 USD per contract
Availability	Unlimited
Identifier	SmartHex
Description	SmartHex refers to a line of smart contract templates specifically designed for deals with demonic entities. By simply inputting the True Names of all parties along with all other relevant information into a SmartHex contract, demonic signatories become thaumaturgically bound to fulfill their part of the agreement once the mortal signatories have met theirs. SmartHex is ideal for individuals who possess minimal knowledge of the laws of Man and/or God.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, LLP

Initial Report
Author	Iris Dark	Date	March 1st, 2018
Interest	High	Identifier	SmartHex
After we got all the bugs worked out of our electro-thaumic server farm, my thoughts naturally turned to what else we could do with it besides Dark Web. I decided to create an anomalous blockchain using darkrunes, the same thaumic code I invented and used for the Dark Energy operating system and the Dark Matter software suite. Though blockchains are currently used mostly for cryptocurrencies, given the limited size of our potential user base I decided against creating our own. The cryptocurrency market is too volatile for my tastes anyway. Instead, I elected to create SmartHex. The code of the these contracts works similarly to the Hoffman Portable Electro-Thaumic Units invented by Prometheus labs. SmartHex's software is capable of emulating the required rituals within electro-thaumic hardware, binding mortals, demons, and most other sapient entities to the agreed upon terms, so long as it's provided with their True Names. Although this could technically be used for contracts between mortals, I think the most popular application will be between mortals and demons. Demons are rather infamous for taking unfair advantage of the desperation and ignorance of mortals, pressuring them into hastily signing unread or poorly understood contracts, charging biblical fees while seldom offering anything of equal value in return. With SmartHex, not only will mortals know precisely what they are agreeing to and what they will get in exchange, they will also have the power to negotiate with demons on equal footing. The Hexchecker software included in each contract automatically reviews it and highlights any potential errors, conflicts or loopholes, as well as potentially inequitable deals before the contract can be enforced Though I wrote the software personally, the legal aspects of the SmartHex product were worked out by the A-78xD United Eidolonic Collective (Legal Department) with consultation from Hr'asm'Kal (Tartarean Liaison and VP of Product Development) and Esquire Darke (Senior Partner and Alchemical/Occult Consultant). As the expertise of the Eidolonic Collective is recognized both in our Realm and the Tartarean Plane, Hr'asm'Kal retains good relations with his people, and Darke once literally out-negotiated the Devil Himself (Scarlet King technically, but it hardly matters), I am satisfied that SmartHex will exceed all expectations. Keeping with my preference for dubiously auspicious launch dates, SmartHex contracts will be available beginning on the Ides of March.
File Opened Under:		SMR82/H0EX3/4DNV9

Marshall, Carter and Dark, LLP
Second Quarter Sales Report, 2018
SMR82/H0EX3/4DNV9
Sender	Hr'asm'Kal	Recipient	Iris Dark
SMARTHEX CONTRACTS HAVE BEEN SELLING NICELY (NUMBERS ARE IN THE ATTACHMENT). WE'RE EVEN SEEING REPEAT CUSTOMERS, WHICH IS A RARE THING FOR DEMONIC CONTRACTS. AS EXPECTED, NONE OF THE BIG GUYS TOOK AN INTEREST IN THESE THINGS. THEY'RE NOT WILLING TO JUST HAND OVER THEIR TRUE NAME, PLUS THEY'RE TOO OLD FASHIONED TO WANT TO DIGITIZE THE PROCESS. FOR THEM, IT'S A VELLUM CONTRACT SIGNED IN BLOOD OR BUST. BUT FOR THE LITTLE GUYS, IT'S A DIFFERENT STORY. THEY'RE MORE THAN WILLING TO SCOOP UP CUSTOMERS THE BIG GUYS PASS OVER. SMARTHEX ENSURES EVERYONE KNOWS WHAT THEY'RE AGREEING TOO AND GETS THEIR DUE, AND HAPPY CUSTOMERS ARE RETURN CUSTOMERS. I THINK WE MAY ACTUALLY HAVE FOUND A SUSTAINABLE BUSINESS MODEL FOR SATANIC BLOOD PACTS.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, LLP

Incident Report 01
SMR82/H0EX3/4DNV9
Author	Jim Tully	Date	July 13th, 2018
Last night at 3 AM Greenwich Time, a 10 foot ring of fire suddenly appeared inside the server farm. It appeared to be a portal to the Tartarean Plane. Fortunately, it was detected by the security system and the servers automatically emulated an exorcism to close it before anything could get through. It also activated the fire suppression system. Between 3-4 AM, I counted 19 of these portals opening up at various points in or near the building, all of them being automatically excised within seconds. Based on the sheer persistence of these portals, I can only conclude that someone from Tartarus was trying to attack us. Most likely over the SmartHex Contracts. I minored in demonology at DEER university, so I know that if they're not summoned demons can only create a portal to our plane during specific times i.e. the Witching Hour on Friday the thirteenth, because of the power we assign to those times. Basically happy hour for demons that feed on superstition. The good news is I'm pretty sure that the next time they'll be able to pull a stunt like this is 3 AM November 1st, Halloween night. That gives us some time to prepare, but since this time didn't work I'm guessing next time they'll come at us even harder. Maybe it would be best to see if we can work out a diplomatic solution before then.
Marshall, Carter and Dark, LLP

Item #: SCP-3xxx

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: A maximum of 5 instances of SCP-3xxx are to be kept at Site-103. Each instance is to be kept within its own quarantined cell, outfitted to allow for complete control of environmental conditions as well as the automatic termination of SCP-3xxx-1 instances. Multiple redundant sensors are to alert personnel in the event of a malfunction, which must be repaired immediately. Cells are to be inspected weekly to ensure the functionality of all components.

All further instances of SCP-3xxx have been incinerated. Their initial site of discovery² is to kept artificially infertile by the most cost-effective and environmentally responsible means available, and monitored to ensure no further anomalous plant life emerges.

All instances of SCP-3xxx-1 are to be immediately incinerated excepting those required for research, with a maximum of 35 liters of SCP-3xxx-1 per on-duty researcher permitted to exist at any one time. In the event that instances of SCP-3xxx-1 grow beyond the ability of site staff to manage, Site-103 is to be placed under lockdown and Protocol Foxtrot-19 (Mandarin Chicken) is to be enacted by site security. Should Protocol Foxtrot-19 fail, Site-103's self-destruct is to be activated and the nearest available Mobile Task Force is to be deployed to confirm the neutralization of SCP-3xxx-1.

Description: SCP-3xxx refers to a species of seedless sweet orange trees, all endemic to an orchard formerly known as the Sunny Bunny Orange Grove. Instances of SCP-3xxx are identical to non-anomalous orange trees until their mature fruits are either picked or allowed to fall.

Once an orange from an instance of SCP-3xxx (designated SCP-3xxx-1) is separated from its parent tree, it will begin to undergo a process similar to binary fission, wherein it splits into two distinct oranges of equal mass over a period of approximately ten minutes. This process will continue indefinitely until the SCP-3xxx-1 instances are destroyed, defined as each individual orange segment being broken into at least two separate pieces. A single intact orange segment will reform into a whole orange within thirty minutes and then continue to multiply.

The potential for an unlimited exponential increase of SCP-3xxx-1 instances means a containment breach could potentially result in an NK-Class End of the World Scenario.

Recovery: Foundation bots intercepted multiple phone calls to emergency services referencing an eruption of oranges at the Sunny Bunny Orange Grove. Agent Mark Roland was the first to arrive on the scene. By this point, civilians on site had already discovered via trial and error the method of neutralization for SCP-3xxx-1 instances.

As the instances were multiplying at a rate of approximately 6400 percent an hour, it was deemed likely that the situation would be uncontainable by the time necessary Foundation resources could arrive. In order to avert a possible NK-Class scenario, Agent Roland made the decision to enlist the aid of the local civilian populace.

Commandeering numerous vehicles, both civilian and municipal, along with whatever suitable tools and equipment were at hand, Agent Roland and 640 local civilians were able to keep the number of SCP-3xxx-1 instances from significantly multiplying until Foundation forces were able to arrive. At this point, the number of SCP-3xxx-1 instances was reduced to zero in under two hours and preliminary containment of SCP-3xxx was established.

All civilians were provided with amnestics along with a cover story involving an attempt to create the World's Largest Orange Julius that had gone horribly awry. Had Agent Roland not acted as he did, the situation likely would have grown beyond the Foundation's ability to manage discretely and required a nuclear strike to neutralize the threat. As this likely would have cost thousands of lives and required far more extensive coverup procedures, Agent Roland has been commended for his swift action and the town was given a sizable donation from a Foundation front in gratitude for their efforts.

Once the threat of SCP-3xxx was under control, the owner of the Sunny Bunny Orange Grove was located, captured, and interrogated by Agent Roland.

Interviewer: Agent Mark Roland

Interviewee: Person of Interest 3xxx-01, legal owner of the Sunny Bunny Orange Grove.

<Begin Log>

Agent Roland: Please state your full name for the record.

PoI-3xxx-01: Dr. OJ Simpson, no relation.

Agent Roland: According to all the documentation we could find, your name is ███████ ███████████, and you do not have a doctorate degree of any kind.

PoI-3xxx-01: (chuckles) I call myself Dr. OJ. I would think the reasoning would be obvious after today.

Agent Roland: I take that to mean you are taking credit for the incident that occurred earlier?

PoI-3xxx-01: Of course. This town's what they call a 'food desert'. We lack affordable fresh produce, and the poor suffer from the heavily processed garbage they are forced to subsist on. I was only trying to provide them with an inexhaustible supply of real fruit.

Agent Roland: Are you aware that this philanthropy of yours nearly brought about the end of the world?

PoI-3xxx-01: Preposterous! Oranges are good for you.

Agent Roland: Your oranges double in number once every ten minutes. Starting with a single orange, you'd have enough to outweigh the Earth in less than 12 hours, and enough to outweigh the visible universe a few days after that.

PoI-3xxx-01: Absurd. The oranges on the bottom would be crushed and rendered inert. The orange mush would grow until it was dense enough to collapse into a star or a black hole, destroying the rest of the oranges with it. Nothing outside the solar system would ever be effected. Honestly, outweigh the universe? What a drama queen.

Agent Roland: How did you create self-replicating oranges, and did you realize the existential threat they posed?

PoI-3xxx-01: Magic, and no.

Agent Roland: Please elaborate.

PoI-3xxx-01: Well the magical part is a bit technical, and incriminating, but essentially I used alchemy to splice an anomalous gene for type Red - as you boys say - regenerative abilities into my orange trees, specifically for their ovaries. That's what fruit is actually, I don't know if you knew that. Anyway, my intention was that when you plucked an orange, another one would grow back in its place, and then stop. Obviously, that's not exactly how it turned out.

Agent Roland: And how did you react when you realized that the oranges would self replicate without limit?

PoI-3xxx-01: Honestly, I thought that if I juiced them quickly enough I could keep them under control. It seemed I was making progress until I overlooked one of them and then bam! It's not my fault humans have a poor intuitive understanding of exponential growth.

Agent Roland: So would it be fair to say that the incident was a result of gross negligence?

PoI-3xxx-01: I think you mean 'growth negligence' (laughs). I said 'growth negligence'. It's a pun, it's funny! Why the sour face?

Agent Roland: Sir, we narrowly avoided a Grey Goo catastrophe that was a direct result of your negligence. You'll forgive me for failing to see the humour in it.

PoI-3xxx-01: Come on, it wasn't all bad. They'll probably call you Agent Orange after this!

Agent Roland: No, they won't.

PoI-3xxx-01: Agent Orange, always beats his adversaries to a pulp!

Agent Roland: Please stop.

PoI-3xxx-01: But orange you glad I didn't say -

Agent Roland: That's it, this interview is over. Get him out of my sight.

(PoI-3xxx-01 can be heard in the background making fruit puns as agents forcibly relocate him to the armoured transport.)

<End Log>

Item #: SCP-36xx

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-36xx is currently owned by the Foundation front company Sweet Comb Produce. No unauthorized personnel are permitted access to SCP-36xx's primary containment zone. Civilians are to be kept out using standard cover story 23 "Staff Only'', and government inspectors are to amnesticized and implanted with standard cover story 336 "Average Apiary".

All staff entering SCP-36xx must wear standard apiary protective gear and carry a bee smoker.

At least once per day, all honeycomb placed at the entrance of SCP-36xx by SCP-36xx-1 is to be recovered. Any messages are to be recorded and the honey extracted. As said honey is non-anomalous, it may be sold commercially to offset containment costs. All reusuable honeycomb is to be returned to SCP-36xx. Appropriate responses to SCP-36xx-1's messages, as determined by research staff, are to be spelt out using the honeycombs wax cells. The used honeycomb is also to be accompanied by 24 dozen fresh cut bouquets of cultivar flowers, with arrangements varied on a daily basis.

Description: SCP-36xx is a subterranean cave system measuring a total of 720 meters, found 1.3 kilometers north of █████, ██. The interior of the cave walls are completely covered in honeycomb. SCP-36xx-1 refers to a unique subspecies of Western honey bee (Apis mellifera) endemic to SCP-36xx. SCP-36xx-1 appear to function as a single hive, despite numbering in the millions and possessing hundreds of queens.

The primary anomaly of SCP-36xx-1 is that they collectively possess the ability to write in an idiosyncratic dialect of English, which they typically accomplish by selectively applying wax caps to honeycomb cells. This is believed to be a form of swarm intelligence, as individual bees removed from the hive do not exhibit any anomalous behavior.

At the time of recovery, the interior of SCP-36xx was almost completely covered in SCP-36xx-1 writings, which mostly consisted of stream-of-consciousness style rambling.

Random sample of text produced by SCP-36xx-1:

Buzzing bees bee loud but there bee no meaning in bee buzz
Letters bee quiet but letters bee more meaningful than any bee that ever bee
To bee or not to bee is no question since bees will always bee

They maintain SCP-36xx in a matter typical of honey bees, however no instance of SCP-36xx-1 has ever been observed traveling to the surface to collect nectar.

As part of the investigation into SCP-36xx-1's honeycomb production, multiple instances were recovered and equipped with micro video recorders. Upon review of the footage, it was revealed that a number of empty honeycomb cells appear to function as translocational vectors to a currently undetermined location, labelled SCP-36xx-2.

The area of SCP-36xx-2 immediately accessible through SCP-36xx consists entirely of rolling hills covered in wildflowers. Aside from these flowers and SCP-36xx-1, no other forms of life have been observed.

Old Sandboxes:
http://scpsandbox2.wikidot.com/dr-chandra
http://scpsandbox2.wikidot.com/drchandra
http://scpsandbox2.wikidot.com/collab:herman-fuller-collaboration-page

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ONEIROI WEST
CONNECTED CONSCIOUSNESS

"A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes"

WORLD NEWS

Money Never Sleeps

Corporeal Corporate Billionaire And Senior Partner Of Marshall, Carter, & Dark, Ruprecht Carter Visited OnWe Earlier This Week, Only To Cause Chaos And Panic At Every Turn.

Residents of Oneiroi West have been subjected to a rare sight these last few days: a transitory dreamform taking on the appearance of a green cyclops composed of reeking septic waste, boiling with rage. The entity was first spotted amidst the Trixie Slumber Mills, plodding along aimlessly and engulfing everything within range of its pseudopods.

First Respondents were quite shocked when a simple True Name spell revealed the creature to be the uncultivated dreamform of Mr. Ruprecht Carter of Marshall, Carter, and Dark Limited. Though it is not currently known how or why Mr. Carter entered Oneiroi West or how he became separated from his body, the stress of deincarnation apparently reduced him to a being a pure id, existing in a state of delirious rage and greed. His psychic emanations are estimated to have induced nightmares in at least two hundred million dreaming corporeals, as well as corrupt the dreamscape within a forty wink radius.

The Slumber Mills and the adjacent area were quickly evacuated and quarantined by Certified Nightmare Specialists. Attempts were made at calming the deranged Mr. Carter, but all such attempts served only to enrage him and more grossly distort his dreamform. Eventually, Dream Catchers were forced to dissolve the nightmare creature and eject its consciousness back into reality.

It is not currently known if Mr. Carter was able to reunite with his body once returned to reality, but the Centurial Dreamsmiths estimate it will take weeks of their entire workforce toiling around the clock to repair the damage. A volunteer workforce is currently being organized to assist in the clean up as well, with volunteer nightmare counselors also being requested.

At present, it appears that our Collective Overmind has arrived at the decision to temporarily boycott MC&D in reality and bar them from entering our dreamspace until some form of restitution is agreed upon.

Li'l Lollipop
@Li'lLollyCotD

Hey if anyone sees Ruprecht Carter can you shoot me a hoot? His dreamform (no idea what it looks like but it's supposed to be UGLY!) got severed from his body and he's stranded here somewhere. If you're corporeal he'll probably pay you a reward of some kind (but probably not very much cuz he's SUPER stingy).

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Corporeal Corporate Billionaire And Senior Partner Of Marshall, Carter, & Dark, Ruprecht Carter Visited OnWe Earlier This Week, Only To Cause Chaos And Panic At Every Turn.

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