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You have chosen to view the 13.02.2020/13:42 revision of this document. In addition to being severely outdated, several inaccurate edits made under the influence of a memetic effect are present in this revision. It is recommended that you view a more recent revision.
Revision as of 13:42, February 13, 2020 by Dr. ████████ Kent <ten.pics.leimuaht|tnekq#ten.pics.leimuaht|tnekq>
SCP-XXXX
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-XXXX is stored within a standard small object containment vault at Site-64. Access outside of testing is prohibited. Following explorations into SCP-XXXX-1, test subjects are to be interviewed and, if deemed necessary by virtue of information found within SCP-XXXX-1, administered Class A amnestics. Testing outside of D-Class personnel is currently prohibited due to potential for a classified information leak in the event that a higher class Foundation personnel interacts with SCP-XXXX.
Description: SCP-XXXX is a rectangular slab of marble measuring 0.5m x 0.3m x 0.1m inscribed with an untranslatable text written in Greek script. When a human being comes into physical contact with SCP-XXXX, they are mentally transported to a variable space designated SCP-XXXX-1. Subjects transported inside SCP-XXXX-1 will appear within while maintaining their clothes and all other objects on their person, and the same is true for subjects returning to reality from SCP-XXXX-1. While mentally inside SCP-XXXX-1, subjects are physically comatose, but can remain standing. Subjects are able to will themselves out of this state with little effort. A subject can also be forcefully awoken by removing their contact with SCP-XXXX.
Iterations of SCP-XXXX-1 are mostly non-changing between tests with the same subject, but vary significantly between different subjects. The following traits are universally found throughout all iterations of SCP-XXXX-1:
- The space is a library of some kind, and may be public or private
- Said library is stocked with anomalous books (elaborated below)
- No humans or other sentient beings are found within the SCP-XXXX-1, although potted plants have been found within it, and other vegetation has been observed outside windows
- Any door which would appear to go outdoors or exit into a room which would not be considered part of the library cannot be opened
- Any windows which may be present cannot be opened or broken
All other traits, such as SCP-XXXX-1's size and appearance, are variable. The appearance of SCP-XXXX-1 is believed to be linked to a subject's personal preferences, as it has been frequently described by subjects as a pleasant environment.
The books inside collectively contain all references within text or speech which refer to said subject, either indirectly or by name. This applies to all spoken words, as well as physical and digital documents, including those which no longer exist.
Addendum XXXX-a [Exploration Logs]:
Offset 1
Log Date: 11/02/20
Test Overseer: Dr. ████████ Kent
Procedure: Dr. Kent is supplied with a notebook, a camera, a sledgehammer, a portable Kant counter, and a supply of rations to last a thousand lifetimes.
Foreword: I am my own test subject.
I place my hand on SCP-XXXX. Within a blink of my eyes, I stand within a cold, dark building. The floor is a bland, unpainted concrete. There's light, but its dim, and it hangs far above me. It's dark, dusty, and dirty. Is this some kind of warehouse?
It would seem like it. Lined up to my left and to my right, as far as I can see, are rows and rows of plain-looking shelves, metal and mechanical. All of them lined with books.
I check my bag to make sure everything is there. I take out the Kant counter and get a reading going. It should take only a minute or so, and it wouldn't hurt to get some measurements.
As the machine hums with life, I walk over to the shelves. Shit, Couture will kill me for this. but the knowledge haunts me I take a book from the shelf.
It reads "Internal Records, SCiPNET". Interesting. I open it. My eyes dash over the content, taking in the words' meaning. It's a simple file. Name the name I try so hard to keep secret, birthday, age, gender, and such. There's a comment from the Director: a few short sentences.
"Kent is one of the more traditional types as far as researches go. Rather than look at an anomaly and simply accept it as something that breaks the laws of nature, Kent instead proposes that the laws of nature were never right in the first place. He's methodical, constantly taking measurements and studying the anomalies from a scientific approach. This alone is not a unique quality, but his devotion to his methods is remarkable."
I had never seen it before. What a pleasant thing.
The Kant counter finishes processing. 78 Humes, exactly. Down to two decimal places. How else might we learn more about the things we contain but through scientific study? Through measurement, study, and testing. It is the only sensible way. That's quite low. Maybe I could… Hmm…
I focus my thoughts. The space around me changes.
Image recovered from Quentin's video camerablackbox it, I like my privacy doesn't even fit the number of blackboxes what a terrible name
Hmm. This isn't good, the floor's on the ceiling. Or is the ceiling on the floor? Weird weird weird. certainly some kind of memetic effect here, I'm sure of it. Regardless, this can't be safe. Might end up saying something I regret.
Back to the library. Let us find a sour passage in one of these tomes, some unsavory words spoken in secret, unknowing that my gaze now falls upon them I take one from a shelf. No title.
god this idea is so fucking dumb
image from quinn kent's camera
You were the head of many projects, no? A wide variety of anomalous items… that portal, that living toy, and that damned shark. You've done a lot for Site-44, a lot for me, and a lot for the Foundation. Why do you doubt yourself so much? Why must you be paranoid of what the world says about you? You have nothing to fear.
You have nothing to fear, Doctor Kent. Nothing to hide.
I raise my head, trying to get a grasp on my bearings. It would seem my thoughts are too messy to be safely used to change the world around me.
I take a step forward, and find solid ground. My surroundings are normal once again. At least, as normal as they can be in here.
I feel sweat running down my back. My stomach growls. I place a ration in my mouth, and it dissolves into ash.
All around me are the words. The words that make this world. Coming from infinite sources, but all centered around me. Other worlds may center other people, but this library is mine alone.
What little I can make out from the verbal cacophony is vulgar, or otherwise insulting. I've made a habit out of picking up a book, absentmindedly flipping through the pages, and tossing it behind me. There is no sound when it hits the floor.
Why did I think this was a good idea? I'll be fired when they find out I did an unauthorized experiment. My knees give in, and I fall to the floor in the fetal position.
I thought it would be a relief. The gift of knowledge. The true faces of all those around me. It was a curse. Let me die here, now.
goodbye, Couture.
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