DylanThomas7’s Page

GOI Format (AWCY? Proposals):

The Taste of Trash (W.I.P)

Title: The Taste of Trash

Material Requirements:

• One (1) 240 litre green trash can
• One (1) trash bag, half full
• Items of trash to place inside of trash bag.
• A permanent pink marker pen.

Abstract: The Taste of Trash is a standard 240 litre Trash Bin found in most backyards however what makes this piece special is that of the message written on the Trash Bin that reads the following:

“Your taste is trash
- Are We Cool Yet?”

Located at the front of the Trash Bin at the top, just underneath the opening. The message will trigger a effect in the person’s mind that removes all types of enjoyment that someone can express and makes the viewer of the piece see everything as bland or boring, being described by many as “unable to have taste” which is also written on the piece with the message:

“Why have taste if the one you have is trash?”

Located inside of the Trash Bin written in pink marker in bold font.

The Trash bin itself is bland and green, with the lid open and with its contents visible. The piece will have no rememberable markings or features that would make it standout, other than the message written at the front. The Piece would be also location somewhere in the open but not placed anywhere eye catching or noticeable, possibly be placed outside of a house near a highly populated area.

Pile of the Unkown (Dropped)

Title: Pile of Unknown

Material Requirements:

• Pile of human Turds (To be gotten)
• Pile of cow Turds
• A 1 meter ruler
• A wooden bench
• A red rose
• Tape

Abstract: Pile of the unknown is a wooden bench with a object in a shape of a mountain, coloured brown and black with both yellow dots located around the object and also green patches which cover the bottom on the object. A rose is located exactly to the right corner bending over slightly with tape keeping it located in place.

The Acoustic Musical of Animation (Dropped)

Title: The Acoustic Musical of Animation

Material Requirements:

• One (1) acoustic guitar
• A tin of matt black paint (to be gotten, In my possession)
• One (1) Utility Knife (painted green)
• Paper (62 needed)
• A green tub of Black pens (42 needed)
• One (1) fold up metal chair
• One (1) Black Music sheet stand
• Some spare guitar strings.

Abstract: This piece will consist of a acoustic guitar resting on a uncomfortable chair made of metal, possibly steel or iron due to costs and funds for this piece. The acoustic guitar shall be painted black, Mac-Black to be exact, as to give off a gothic look for the audience to see, as when listening to the music played by one of the audience. The piece itself will be simple and only contained as stated a chair and a acoustic guitar painted black the words “Anime is art too, right?” carved into it from the right side (Where the knife comes in handy) resting on it, with the back of the guitar on the back of the chair, leaning almost, with the carved in word visible from the top of the guitar (side facing up). The guitar itself will be a normal guitar bought and owned by myself, brought from a nearby music store in the middle of town.

Next to the piece, directly in front will be a music sheet stand bearing a sheet of paper in which will show a random music piece of my choosing, which in turn will be picked from my musical genius. The sheet itself will be white with lines across it, contains the music notes linked to each specific song or music piece. The Song itself will not contain anything arty or anomalous itself but however the musician playing the guitar will be picked randomly from the audience, due to its looks and it being as great as it is, the first person to see it in a 20 by 20 meter radius will sit down and begin to play the music on the sheet; after the person has finished playing the song, they will begin to start reenacting a death scene in the respective anime, in turn killing him for unknown means or how.

The audience will officially not remember anything of what happened after the events but however will remember after before the death of the musician. The audience will remember the exact piece, its name (even if they didn’t know the name before losing their memory) and how it looks and the songs played and so on.

The music on the sheet shall contain classic anime openings, official soundtracks and ending songs from different types of anime. The songs will of course be picked and written by me. Such as:

• Death Parade: Opening One (1)
• Dragon Ball: Opening (all)
• Death Note: Opening and Ending (all)
• Juuni Taisen: Opening
• Tokyo Ghoul: Opening One (1)
• Noragami: Opening and Ending (all)
• Black Butler: Opening One (1)
• Kakegurui: Opening One (1)
• Fullmetal Alchemist; Brotherhood: Opening and Ending (all)
• Little Witch Academia: Opening (all)
• JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 1 - 5: Opening, Official Soundtrack and Ending (all)
• Hellsing (Original): Opening One (1)
• Mirai Nikki: Opening One (1)

Pieces of music for respective anime’s which yet to be made yet either because they don’t exist, the anime doesn’t exist, there’s only a manga series or it doesn’t have a Opening in said anime yet:

• Drops of God: Opening(s)
• JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 6 - 9: Opening(s)
• Are We Cool Yet; The Anime: Opening and Ending (all)

Intent:

GOI Format (TBA):

1

2

GOI Format (TBA):

1

2

SCPs:

SCP-XXXX (1) (W.I.P)

Item #: SCP-XXXX

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX should be contained in a 720 x 550 x 460mm sized steel and bulletproof glass containment camber, supplied with built in UV Lights and Soil container, housed at Site-17. containment chamber must be checked daily and all required substances such as water or Carbon Dioxide, supplied fully to SCP-XXXX with a 61.5mm sized rubber ball given as a means of entertainment. Personnel wishing to interact with SCP-XXXX must be under watch of at least one (1) other Personnel at a time, due to the safety concerning SCP-XXXX.

Description: SCP-XXXX appears to be a plant of unknown species which has developed sentient life with the IQ and personality traits being of a normal feral cat.

(Note: Yes. The base idea is stolen from another fiction however the rest of the SCP will be explaining how exactly it got into the SCP universe.)

Random Tales:

AWCY? Tale 1 (On Hold.)

The art piece which was placed in front of Samuel was in layman's terms, ‘shit’, and he knew it. It was a mess, a mess for a sake of being a mess, nonsense for the sake nonsense and came of bland, and boring with a serving of depression and failure, and his other art projects were no different, they followed that same design, exact design. Samuel hated this, he in fact knew exactly what was wrong and how to fix it, but he refused to change anything, not because he didn’t care, because it was the only thing he could actually do. Art theses days must be bland and obvious, no touches of personality, feelings or motives, are seen mostly and liked the most; art which is something which could actually even be considered art to the lesser extent didn’t get enough views of the audience, rather blank faces, a lot of faces looking in one direction and walking to it, ignoring the existence of the piece entirely. Art was forced to be bland, inoffensive and followed audiences options, no matter how terrible they were, no matter how much they ruined the original purpose of the piece, because otherwise your art was not seen and the purpose of art goes over their heads.

Samuel had not enough money or time to actually begin anything revelational or even something with personality, as that would mean wasting rent money on something which wouldn’t get one glare orif it did, it would be left with a complaint, ones which Samuel really didn’t wish to have more off, basically being forced to bend over for the man. All types of creativity was taken away, as if part of himself was taken with it, which made him go into a cycle of depression, creating useless rust and metal. Samuel due this had to create something quick. The next exhibit was in two months which he couldn’t actually create for, he just didn’t have the funding or materials to do so, and the stuff he’s stuck creating now with the current funds used to originally pay rent wouldn’t be good enough. He was stuck in a loop, making bad art costs less but makes him more depressed, and creating creative art falls flat over critics heads.

The “thing” which was meant to resemble art piece in front of Samuel was meant to be art, “art” used in the simplest term possible and even then, couldn’t then class as something you label as one’s own unless high irony was used, which this art piece was in fact not done ironically, which is quite hard to do. Samuel was both confused and scared at what was directly facing him, it was his worse art piece by date, as unlike the other pieces which could technically class as art by the lowest of the low, this however couldn’t, this was what he described to be ‘what would happen if a shit got a conscience and then shit itself’, very specific way in putting it, but it worked for him. To him he didn’t feel like a artist anymore, or atleast a good one which he would like to be.

Relievingly the door rang and the first time in Samuel’s life he knew it wasn’t some guy in a black coat asking for rent, this time it was a blue coat guy, not asking for rent but instead alcohol money, entering the apartment with a smile, it was Larry, a man who was somehow related by blood to Samuel, a question of which still needing answered but Samuel holds off. All Larry did was enter, sit down and ask for a beer, then start talking while drunk, nothing unusual, at least not to Samuel. However Larry didn’t ask for a beer this time and in fact started talking normal, with a slight distress in his voice, which made Samuel quiet uncomfortable for multiple reasons. The one problem with Samuel wasn’t his art, it wasn’t his awkward tone nor was it anything actually about his personality, it was nothing you could probably pin-point and yet it always felt odd.

“You hear?” Larry asked “Some guy’s shit got shut down by some angry landowners. Pissed as fuck. Pretty sure all his shit did was injure some guy, he told me that it wasn’t even finished, so basically some dumbfuck can’t read and got the guy’s shit removed” slowly taking a seat on the Samuel’s sofa.

“G-guess I can’t make anything actually interesting after all, it’ll just get shut down instantly. Sad that.” Samuel said, already sat down grabbing a beer.

“What you mean, exactly?”

“Right. You know how the materials to make this shit is expensive, ya? Have a guess how I get that money, either through my non-existence job or through small donations, that’s why I can’t create big shit no more. I’m left with creating harmless non interesting shit. And shit is shit no matter how you view it.” ending with a massive sign, drinking all the alcohol in the bottle.

Horizon Initiative Tale 1 (On Hold / Drooped)

Jerry sat at the table, underneath the dim white light, the only white light, the rest of the bar was either covered in blues, pinks and alike or just dark. The light made Jerry stood out slightly which didn't do anything as the only man in the bar was some drunken man sat at the end stool at the bar, drinking and drinking asking the guy at the bar for more and more. Jerry sat down and took a breath and watched the man walk out, the sunlight from outside was blinding as it could have been atleast a good 2 or maybe 7 hours, Jerry was unsure but he just blocked the sun with his hand and went back to drinking the bottle on the table.

Jerry starting to sit up and lifting his arm to check his watch, looking up at the door. A man walks in dressed in Matt black leather trenchcoat, his hair grey. The man sat at the same table, but opposite side, which made Jerry look up from his watch. The man took out his phone and had it under the table, looking down at it, the man just moving his thumb on the screen. Jerry sighed and checked his watch again, the door opened a second later this time with a man in a blue T-shirt and jeans and a grey, dirty hoodie. Jerry sighed and offered them a seat. The man pulled out the last chair and sat on it, taking out a phone and EarPods, placing them on his head and watching something.

The bar at this time was mostly dead, nobody really entered and if they did they got a glass of alcohol and left, making it a perfect place for a meeting as the owner didn't really care at all; he didn't care about anything unless you destroyed and damaged his bat. On a normal day, GRU-P, AWCY? and similar groups stayed around, GRU-P agents mostly stayed near the toilet picking fights and speaking in what Jerry could tell was Russian but heavily slag’ed, AWCY? member we’re no better, that stayed near the bar getting drunk and talking about “their masterpiece” most of them we’re nothing that interesting, if not all. Some times The Hand pops their faces in and stay around the bar, getting drunk; talking about rights and what-not.

Jerry tapped his figure on the table twice, trying to get the other men to look up, they did. Jerry turned to look at the bartender and the bartender walked into the backroom. Jerry looked back and started to open his mouth. “Hey. Jerry” he said “Info on the relic?”, the man in the grey hoodie looked up and just shook his head. The man in the treachcoat slowly looked around, his eyes darting around and then looking onto Jerry like a laser. “The relic was located in the home of some cult, something in Latin, something todo with books. The Wolf’s got it first and killed the cult.” He said signing “Jerry, I know how much you want to figure out the purpose of the relics but give up.” Jerry look at the ceiling letting out a big sigh and walked out, letting the 2 men sit there i wonder. “Wow. Atleast Martin had info, even if horse crap” Jerry said crossing the street with his key in his hand, going to his house and unlocking it.

Jerry sat at the end of his desk, covered in notes, information, pens etc all related to anomalous items or events. Jerry believed in god, but latently gave up and at first through the relics were from a god, but he gave up and seeked I different path, one which he hoped to find meaning of anomalies and relics in the hopes he’ll understand. Jerry left the invitative and went on his way.

Random 1 (On Hold / Dropped)

Edward sat on the end stool at the bar, empty and bear, some purples and pinks time to time but besides that the bar might as well been a horror house, wood was dark, looked broken and the bar was the only interesting thing there, the alcohol looked alive sat on the shelves, like they will jump off. Edward just signed and asked for a Gin, full bottle and a glass, pouring the bottle in the glass and placing it back on the bar while Edward drank the glass quickly like there was no tomorrow, like he never drank before, which was weird as he liked to taste the beer, not drink it all - he just assumed that's what cheap alcohol does to you, so he shrugged and just drank.

Edward started to look around, looking at all the dull colours, the full place, the place might as well of been closed. One man was there however, one person in the whole bar and he was just drinking at a table, not looking drunk at all, unlike Redd.

Edward signed and placed a 20 pound note on the bar counter and starting to stand up, grabbing his coat while walking out. Edward opened the door and takes a big breath, walking out was like walking on a new planet, he was so used to the bar he forgot what outside looked like for a moment. Edward stayed to himself and walked down the street, avoiding all people who walked past him, making sure not to cause any unwanted business.

Edward stopped as he noticed his house just down the road, walking there in a hurry. It was a change to the dull, dead colours which made the town dead itself, like walking through abandoned house but without the fun of knowing nothing will happen, when Edwardknew that one bad move in the city would lead him to be in a fight he doesn't want to be in or will surely lose, and if not a fight, on the floor bleeding. Edward sighed and just opened his house and walked in, closing and locking the door behind him like something was after him.

Edward sat down the sofa and turned on his phone, starting to go on YouTube and anything which kept his mind of alcohol, as the only place which served alcohol or at least drinkable was a place called “Vincent's” it wasn't really called that just instead of calling the bar “Unnamed bar”, they called it after the owner, Vincent. Vincent wasn't a bad guy, he may of get his kids to work at his bar for free but he was a good guy to talk to.