If you are not certain that the audience will like your draft, consider getting the basic concept reviewed and polished up in the 
- dinner
- gravedigger
- transcendance
- Endless Night
- SCP-001-D
- 3477
- Mr. Night and Lord Darke
- 3310 - Periphery
From: Site Director Kennsington <pcs.noitadnuof|notgnisnnekj#pcs.noitadnuof|notgnisnnekj>
To: several people
Subject: July 2018 Site-17 Protocol Bacchus
Date: July 6th, 2018
To all,
You have been selected for this month's enactment of Protocol Bacchus - the containment methodology of SCP-3377 - at Site-17. You may have performed Protocol Bacchus at Site-17 before, you may have performed it at other sites, or you may have never performed it before: anyone is equally capable of executing the protocol. (For those of you that have never performed it before, let me assure you that it is a zero-danger protocol, and this is in no way punitive.)
For those of you familiar with Protocol Bacchus from another Site, a brief note: Site-17 has been selected as a testing ground for a slightly modified version of the procedure, with multiple individuals rather than two. This appears to be a more efficient version, and will likely be introduced to other Sites after the formal review.
For those of you that do not possess the proper clearance for SCP-3377, the following are the salient points of Protocol Bacchus:
Protocol Bacchus:
Selected personnel are to enter the Site-17 Wine Cellar and remove one bottle of wine. They are then to go to the Site-17 Administrative Dining Room and eat the prepared dinner, consisting at least partially of a rare steak in a Bearnaise sauce and a freshly-fried potato. They are to share the wine, and have a conversation over the dinner.Please be at the Site-17 Administrative Complex Lobby at 7:00 PM, July 13th. Formal dress is not required, but appreciated. Attendance is mandatory.
Thank you,
Site-Director Kennsington
Item Number: SCP-%
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: After the successful implementation of Containment Proposal %-2, the only current containment procedure necessary for the containment of SCP-% is the maintenance of Area-%, located on the grounds of Site-11. All tombstones in Area-% are to be routinely cleaned, and the surrounding area is to be kept clear of debris.
The Department of Analytics is to monitor world media sources for stories concerning the disappearance of bodies.1 If an instance of SCP-% gains notable notoriety, a suitable cover story is to be created.
Containment Proposal %-2:
Abstract: SCP-% has displayed intelligence in the burial of corpses, being able to detect where said bodies should be interned. By creating an area for it to operate and showing it where this are is, we can direct future instances of SCP-% into a small specific area.
- The bodies of individuals who have died without having been buried are to be interned at a new burial ground, henceforth referred to as Area-%. This explicit purpose of this burial ground is to be for the burial of individuals who would not otherwise be buried.
- Once the burial ground has reached sufficient burials as to be defined as a space for the burial of individuals who would not otherwise be buried, MTF Theta-13 ("Bring Out Your Dead") is to locate instances of SCP-%, recover the bodies and reintern them at Area-%. This process must be completed within 24 hours of removal from the grave, to ensure that SCP-% does not anomalously reintern the body.
- The same process is to be simultaneously performed for cremated ashes, interning such remains at a mausoleum built on the grounds of Area-%.
- The burial ground and mausoleum of Area-% are to be monitored for the presence of new SCP-% instances.
- If new burials are noted as occuring within Area-% and confirmed as SCP-% activity, this Containment Proposal will have been successful.[[/collapsible]]
Description:
- Buries dead bodies that wouldn't otherwise be buried
- Tends to go close, but sometimes goes further away if relevant (ie: family grave, closely related to subject, meaningful in some way)
- burials are given tombstones described the decesased
- If body is badly damaged or burned, ashes of subject are put into jars and delivered to appropriate places
- if a body is removed from a grave, it will be put back 24 hours after removal
- if the body is removed from a grave and then buried somewhere fitting, it will stay where it is
- if the body is removed from the grave and buried somewhere unfitting, it will go back 24 hours after removal
- if the body is removed and the burial process is underway 24 hours later, the body will stay where it is (ie, the body is found and given a wake 24 hours later, body stays.)
- nothing is ever actually observed: bodies magically disappear -> graves suddenly appear
Item #: SCP-9876
Object Class: Keter
Threat Level: Orange ●
Special Containment Procedures: Two copies of each textual narrative containing SCP-9876 is to be kept within a Standard Secure Locker Unit at the currently designated site. One copy of each textual narrative is to be a physical copy, while the second is to be a digital copy located on an air-gapped computer.
One recording of each performance of an textual narrative containing SCP-9876 is to be kept on an air-gapped computer at the current containment site, if any recordings exist. These recordings are to be the preferred method of reviewing narratives containing SCP-9876, rather than the base copy.
For reference, narratives and performances containing SCP-9876 are as follows:
- the dude and the quest Immortality
- //long discoverd cameo role - ie orignal author itended it, different guy used same character
- first series is the thing; second is sequel by new author that cameod character)
- first is thing; second is movie adaptation that cameos character)
All instances of SCP-9876 are to be kept within seperate Standard Humanoid Anomaly Containment Cells at the current
| ● CURRENT SITE: Site-56 |
Description: SCP-9876 is a sapient intrafictional construct. SCP-9876 was originally created in 1986 by Sara Razad, a minor fantasy writer designated as PoI-9876.
SCP-9876 currently possesses two anomalous capabilities, the combination of which allow for its identification as an anomalous fictional construct. These properties function under two different circumstances of interaction with SCP-9876, as defined below:
Writing: Writers deliberately attempting to create a narrative containing SCP-9876 will become partially influenced by SCP-9876, to favor the inclusion of certain narremes into their narratives. These elements only concern SCP-9876 itself, and serve to preserve a certain degree of continuity for SCP-9876 across different narratives. This property appears to act as a survival mechanism for SCP-9876. It is believed that SCP-9876 does not possess any true ability to alter the greater plot of a fictional narrative. A brief summary of injected narremes follows:
- SCP-9876 will typically be a comparitively minor character in the work, but possess some degree of importance to the overaching plot.
- The first initial of SCP-9876's name will be A and the last initial shall be N.
- These letters may be substituted for similar phonetical equivalents, such as the Greek alpha and nu.
Performance: Actors that attempt to perform SCP-9876, in a setting that accurately mimics the narrative being performed, will undergo a complete change in their personal memetic complex2 to become a copy of SCP-9876. All individuals who have been affected in such a fashion are similar in their personal memetic complexes, with variation to account for variation in the narrative that acted as a source for the performance. There is, at present, no known way to revert this change.
- s.c.p.s
- description
- table
- interview with original author (PoI-9876) who ritualized the character
- interview with the scp
- expirement log
- they create the -10
- Proposal: can we add the following Foundation-loyal-Mary-Sue character to the file
"To act, to perform, is to become your character; and when you perform your character, your character becomes you."
just speaking a little or what not doesn't let it become you - must be deeper
character was famous for many years, at least in literary circles; leading to no need for foundation coverup; character was then used in play and BOOM that's bad
10 copies -> each slightly different; depending on actor and version
Foundation wrote up a -10 to be exactly what they wanted (including and interview and a testing log), THEN performed the interview (interview by Dr Thaumm or that murdery story dude), creating an entirely subservient instances that gives them all they want - ending
WARNING: interview has a note that ABSOLUTELY NO attempt should be made to read the following interview aloud or in any way even come close to performing it
you get choic eot add : YES / NO [yes = resurrection link]
Extranormal Event #: EE-091
Event Description:A Class 2 Time Dilation effect occurred, in which internal observers reported a period of time lasting for several weeks, which externally lasted for one second.
Additionally, all individuals within the area at the time were subjected to a memetic affect preventing them from intentionally harming or attacking other individuals within the area.
Date of Event: November 6th, 1918
Location: battlefield
Follow-Up Events: All soldiers present were administered Class B amnestics and returned to military service. Their journals and records from the event have been confiscated, and a full log of the events is available as Document EE-091.
Document EE-091
UPDATE - JUNE 1928
happy ending
Harold Wodiew lived a rather uneventful life - or rather, as uneventful of a life as one could when you worked for the Foundation and were stationed in Sloth's Pit, Wisconsin. He was the Senior Archivist at the little site, storing the minor non-anomalous objects the Foundation wanted to hold onto, and all of their associated files.
He had recieved another shipment, from "ADRX-19". Checking with the records, he saw that it was the oldest Foundation site, back from the days before it was even called the Foundation. There had been an update - it was growing too old, and was being shelved, with everything being shipped off elsewhere.
Today, Site-87 recieved the first of their packages from the old base, a large wooden crate. It had been wheeled up to the bay doors of the Archives by a delivery man, and had stunned Harold when he read what was stamped to the side.
| SCP-001 |
Harold looked at the delivery man, who only laughed and said, "You didn't hear? SCP-001 is dead."
Item Number Assignment: SCP-001-COG
Date: June 12th, 1904
Summary: Following the decision of the Administrator and Overseer Council to redesignate contained objects with arbitrary numerical designations, it has been decided that the anomaly formerly designated as #86243AR-001 will be reclassified to SCP-001-COG.
Formerly, the Foundation has appended all objects with a numeral designation indicating the order in which they brought into Foundation custody. As the new SCP-001-COG was the first object formerly contained by the Foundation, it was assigned the -001 tag. However, it has been decided that this system provides too much information to potential adversaries, and must be done away with.
The Overseer Council has elected to use the SCP-001 slot for a nontraditional purpose. Rather than host a single anomaly, it shall be a collection of the most dangerous, highest interest or most important anomalies contained by the Foundation. In this manner, the SCP-001 will contain an unknown number of real files, along with a large number of decoys.
However, the Administrator has voiced the opinion that placing SCP-001-COG among the other files of SCP-001 will allow it to act as both a real file and a decoy. The details of SCP-001-COG are accurate and can be placed within the SCP-001 slot without raising suspicion: one might think that we are merely being shy about our origins. However, it will belie the truly important anomalies of the SCP-001 slot, that actually require subterfuge.
Object Class Assignment: SCP-001-COG
Date: April 21st, 1912
Summary: Following an assessment by the Foundation's Classification Committee, it has been decided to assign SCP-001-COG the Object Class of "Euclid". This has been decided as a result of SCP-001's infrequent attempts to escape containment and the moderate danger level of the anomaly.
The Object Classification system is an attempt to assign simple metrics and descriptors to anomalies under Foundation supervision. These will ideally allow for a simple way to communicate the danger level posed by an anomaly in the event of a containment breach. Some have objected to this system as dangerously reductive, but the Classification Committee has decided the benefits outweigh the results.
This may come as a surprise to certain readers who have been following the new Object Class system with interest. They may recognize that the "Keter" Object Class was named after the first fatality caused by SCP-001-COG, that of Doctor Hermann Keter. Dr. Keter was one of the highest ranked scientists in the Foundation prior to his death, and the decision was made to name a vital element of our operation practices after him. However, the anomaly that killed him does not meet the qualifications of a Keter-class anomaly.
Incident Report SCP-001-COG: Containment Breach
Date: 15/06/1932
Reporting Personnel: Sergeant Vincent Jordan
Summary: SCP-001-COG breached containment today, by creating a microsingularity close to it for teleporation. It reappeared fifty feet outside of its containment cell, attempting to travel the halls of ADRX-19. It is worth noting that this is substantially shorter than other teleportations that it has achieved, which have measured up to three thousand feet in the past.
After breaching containment, SCP-001-COG appeared confused by the bright lights of ADRX-19 (recently installed as part of a Foundation-wide attempt to renovate the appearance and decor of all Sites and Bases, but coincidentally helpful in the impediment of SCP-001-COG's escape attempts). As SCP-001-COG is photosensitive and harmed by light, it began to panic.
SCP-001-COG encountered a group of researchers, and attacked. It first utilized a microsingularity, producing large amounts of radiation, poisoning all researchers. It attacked one researcher (Dr. Henrietta Clark) with its claws.
Site security arrived at the scene seconds later, and scared SCP-001-COG away from the researchers with a burst of warning fire. They were able to successfully guide it back to its containment cell using high intensity flashlights.
Dr. Henrietta Clark has been placed on medical leave and is expected to make a full recovery, as have all other involved reseachers.
Incident Report SCP-001-COG: Neutralization
Date: 17/08/1961
Reporting Personnel: Sergeant Vincent Jordan, Junior
Summary: This morning, a routine check of all anomalies contained within ADRX-19 indicated that SCP-001 was not moving. After entering the containment cell, armed guards recieved no hostile response from SCP-001.
Further medical investigation of the anomaly revealed that it was no longer breathing, and its heart had stopped beating. While little is known about the biology of SCP-001, it was confirmed that it both had a pulse and needed to respirate.
This comes at the end of long period of apparent old age from SCP-001. In the past decade, SCP-001 has been weaker and more sluggish than it was when initially captured, demonstrating significantly less violent behavior and fewer breach attempts.
It is likely, therefore, that SCP-001 merely died of old age.
An autopsy for SCP-001 has been scheduled for 19/08/1961.
Foundation Wide Update: ADRX-19 Closure
Date: 01/06/1980
Summary: ADRX-19 was the first of the Foundation's dedicated containment locations, and its legacy still bears an impact on operations today. The leading containment site (Site-19) was named in honor of ADRX-19, as a tribute to the dedication of the individuals who worked at that site.
Many of the current operational practices and architectural designs that are used by all Foundation sites were first concieved and implemented at ADRX-19. These are many and vary wildly in nature, but ADRX-19 was the first Foundation building to truly have the "Foundation style" that is so familiar to us all.
However, ADRX-19 is growing old, and it is time for the Foundation to move on from these roots. Beginning in 1970, Phase I of a plan to phase out ADRX-19 began. As a result of this, anomalous objects ceased to be sent towards ADRX-19 for containment, and were sent to other locations, including its successor, Site-19.
Beginning in 1973, all Keter class objects were transferred from ADRX-19 to other, more appropriate locations. Beginning in 1977, all Euclid class objects were transferred. And now, all remaining Safe or Neutralized objects are being transferred to other sites. Archival and low security objects will be sent to appropriate locations.The actual building of ADRX-19 will be demolished once all objects have been relocated, and all personnel stationed there will be transferred to new locations.
Overwatch would like to thank the all staff members of ADRX-19 for their commendable service over the past ninety years. Their dedication is appreciated.
In the crate, Harold found nothing more than a pile of inhuman and strange bones, that belonged to something that should have never existed. The files he had been given were strange and outdated - they looked like they had been written decades ago and had never been updated.
He had heard legends about what SCP-001 was, little stories from here and there. The greatest failings of the Foundation and the Ethics Committee or secrets too terrible for the Foundation at large to know or terrible monsters. It happened all the time over lunch: "What do you think SCP-666 is? SCP-013? SCP-1000? SCP-001?"
He was disappointed, in a way, to know that it was nothing more than the first thing the Foundation ever threw into a box. There wasn't really anything important about it, not anymore, at least.
As Harold wheeled the crate containing the remains of SCP-001 to the back of the storage hanger, he mused to himself about how the Foundation had moved on. The documentation he recovered implied that SCP-001 had been crucial to some of the early decisions of the Foundation - Keter wasn't named after the Kabbalah but a German doctor, for instance.
So that's why it rhymes with Peter and not better?
Weeks after the bones of SCP-001 came in, Wodiew was still thinking about it. Something just didn't sit right with how something as influential as it was being treated. He had always assumed that SCP-001 was a cause for the foundation of the Foundation, rather than being as unimportant he discovered it to be.
One late night, just before he closed up the Archives for the night, Wodiew walked down the dank halls and found the crate that contained the skeleton. He cracked it open with a crowbar, and removed the skull.
The Foundation had never figured out where SCP-001 had come from, or what it was. All they knew was that it was a demon that screamed radiation. It had died before they could ever figure it out - not that it looked like they were trying very hard when it did die.
He couldn't justify his feelings - there was just a gut instinct that SCP-001 was supposed to have been important. There wasn't any rhyme or reason for it, he had just heard too many rumors about what it was. But there was nothing that justified those feelings, and no reason it should be any different than the rest.
He raised the skull in his hand, examining it and turning it around, trying to find something that all those that had came before him had failed at doing, and failing at that.
Alas, poor SCP-001.
A creatured who was half-shark and half-man crawled out of the ocean on Australia. He had a mission, given to him by High Emperor Kavulak II himself - to rally his political allies and lead military operations against the usurpers of the world's greatest dolphin empire. He had been selected for this purpose by their top brass, modified for his mission, and then returned to the surface.
It was vital that he not fail in this mission, for too the Empire had invested far too much time in this action for them to ever look back. This man would find his allies, direct the military, and the Great Barrier Reef would be the Empire's once more, as destined.
The man had absolutely no intention of ever doing that. He had just got his immortality, and he was most definetly not spending it as the thralls of several fascist, rhetorical, and downright mad dolphins. But why not at least seeing about trying to contact his allies?
Soaking wet, he stepped into a phone booth. As soon as he dialed in and identified himself, the call began to be monitored by Foundation personnel, as a result of standard operation procedure concerning entities to claim well-known deceased individuals.
They took over the call not long after they began listening.
Agent Holmwood burst through of the door of the underground and swore. The vampires had dug out a pit on the basement of the warehouse, snaking into the ground. The other members of Gamma-7 ("Von Helsings") came in after him, guns up until they saw the whole. They swore too.
The second best vampire hunters in world3 descended into their favorite arena. Vampires quickly lunged out of their holes, but they were quicker - the slow died.
Vampires hissed and roared, and their cries were drowned out by the steel klaxons of the finest machine guns in the world.4 Dozens charged, and a hail of bullets answered them.
Then Holmwood whipped around a corner to seen an oddly docile vampire. He paused for a second before shooting, and then the face of the zombie rang a bell in his mind. A very specific bell.
"Are you-"
"I am Harold Holt, former Australian Prime Minister." [[footnote]]The former president of Australia, who disappeared during his term
"What the fuck?"
"Oh, you mean my immortality? Why, of course. I turned myself into a vampire. As long as this drink blood, I will continue to live."
"Why?"
"Well, I had always wanted to live forever, you see. Ever since I was a child. But I knew that could never be the case. Then, I get elected Prime Minister and then your-"
"Oh forget it. Don't shoot this one," he screamed to all of comrades.
The year is 1941, and a few old dogs of the Chicago Spirit have gathered in an office in the New York City offices of Marshall, Carter and Dark. They aren't here by choice, but because their supervisors wanted to meet with them concerning a somewhat urgent problem involving the Spirit.
…
The doors to the office fling open and two things that look like men enter. Just enough qualities of a human to briefly pass as one, but there is something quite wrong with either. Nothing you can put your finger on, but you just know that it isn't right. One of the men is dressed infinitely nicer than anyone else in the room, but the other seems to be a bit more understated.
Everyone in the room recognizes the better dressed as the two and immediately stands, looking between themselves and trying to figure out what to do. Do they kneel? Bow? This is their employer after all, Mr. Dark.
But only one man recognizes the other man that entered, and he knows what to do when he sees him. Run.
…
"Night, I would prefer if you did not kill this one."
Mr. Night turns to Mr. Dark.
"If anyone else in the world had asked me that, I'd've killed them too. But you…" Night draws in a sharp sigh. "Very well."
Mr. Night walks over to name and pats him on his shoulders, before looking at his forehead and briefly touching his finger upon it. name is immobilized in fear: he knows what Night does to people, and he has no intention of letting anything of the sort happen to him.
But then, Night simply smiles and walks away. In a brief moment, name thinks that he is safe.
1994: When I Chanced into an International Conspiracy
My first interaction with the Foundation was in the summer of 1994. I was a kid right out of college, just having gotten a job as a Park Ranger. That was my dream job, ever since I was a child. Not this, not by any means.
I was working at Crater Lake then. That's where I've been working for the past twenty years. Before the Foundation, I had entertained the idea of trying to work at a different part. Yosemite had already fascinated me, for instance. But the Foundation controls. The personnel of Crater Lake didn't leave Crater Lake with their memories intact, and I value mine.
Two weeks after I started work, I drive into work. I notice there's a nice car in the parking lot, something that sticks out like a sore thumb in the parking lot of a national park. Cars like that belong in Illuminati bases, not a park in the middle of Oregon. As it turned out, the latter was more like the former than I would have preferred.
I clock into work and my boss calls me aside. Tells me that somebody is here to meet with me, and it is extremely important. He leads me aside into one of of the offices, and there is an impeccably dressed man inside. The man smiles as I sit down across from him.
"Hello. You're Mr. Lance Owens, correct?" He smiles the whole time. This is procedural for him, nothing out of the ordinary.
I gulp out a response. "Uh, yeah, that's me. What's this about? You from the feds?"
He laughs and shakes his head. "Not quite. Mr. Owens, I'm going to let you on a little secret. It's actually something of a big secret. Are you ready to hear it?"
I nod.
"The supernatural, the paranormal, ghosts, vampires, werewolves: it's all real. All of it."
Surprisingly, I didn't think he was crazy at first. I don't think I really understood what he was saying.
"I work for an organization known as the SCP Foundation. That stands for Secure, Contain and Protect. We keep the anomalous away from the world, so that it remains safe."
"Like in X-Files."
"Exactly." He makes this little smirk, like he knows something I don't. That's probably true. "Just like in X-Files. But the reason I'm here is to hire you, Mr. Owens."
"Oh, well, I… I just got this job and I went to college for this, I've only been working for two weeks and-"
"You misunderstand me, Mr. Owens. There is an anomalous object within Crater Lake National Park. You've heard of the Old Man of the Lake, yes?"
"Of course, it's one of the main attr-"
"The Old Man of the Lake - which we refer to as SCP-3310 - is the linchpin in a complex thaumaturgical ritual system which prevents the catastrophic resurgence of a dormant apex-tier pluripotent entity with unknown ontokinetic, pistiphagic and deumorphic properties."
I still have no idea what any of that is supposed to mean.
"In layman's terms, it is preventing the rebirth of a deceased god."
I sit there, speachless at the stream of technobabble he spouted at me, all of well defined and scientifically approved and completely, utterly meaningless. "Okay." I pause for a second. "What do you want me to do?"
"All we ask of you is that you keep on your normal work, and get paid a little extra for it. And in the rare occasion that the situation demands it, you doing everything you possibly can to make sure that Llao, god of monsters stays dead."
There was a brief moment of silence.
"No biggie."
1995: When I Realized the Mess I Was In
When the Illuminati hijacks your life and doesn't tell you anything, you start to itch there at your collar. You try to figure out what they really want from you, what they really want from the world, and most importantly, who the everloving fuck they actually are.
And in January 1995, that itch I had started burning and I decided that I had to learn everything I could about the Foundation, so on a cold winter's night I drove out to Crater Lake and broke into my boss's office. It's been long enough that I feel comfortable talking about that. Nothing bad will come of it, not now.
I was looking for his files on 3310 and for an scraps of information about the Foundation. I was already familiar with the Old Man by that point, and I didn't need to learn anything more about him. But the Foundation remained in the shadows, barely anything visible beyond the surface.
Those files didn't even come close to revealing what the Foundation really was, but between the lines you could just make out it's true shape, like the fin of a shark poking above the surface. There's a lot in common between a shark and the Foundation, you know.
One of the documents in the 3310 file was about a potential coverup of the Old Man. One of those old bastards on the council — O5-2, I think — got nervous about the fact that people simply knew that the Old Man existed. That bothered me, at the time: the leadership of the Foundation, with so much power and control, was anonymous. Rank and serial, no name.
So O5-2 makes a proposal: targeted application of amnestics to remove the Old Man from the collective memory of the world. There was an estimation of how much that would cost, and it was in the hundred millions. Dosing thousands of people with amnestics. A massive undertaking. I was shocked that they would consider such measures for 3310.
There was a reply to the proposal, coming from the desk of O5-9. They argued that the current containment was working fine, and that if knowledge that the Old Man was anomalous was concealed, that was enough. The situation was fine, and such a measure was unnecessary. It would be better to save such resources for a more pressing time.
Did you catch that?
Do you get what's missing in that rebuttal?
At no point in that rebuttal did O5-9 ever say anything to regard of "we don't have that kind of money" or "the logistics of dosing that many people is impossible." It doesn't enter the equation. The proposal is treated as something that could be feasibly accomplished, if the Foundation wanted to. The only barrier was that it wasn't needed, so why bother?
It rapidly began to dawn on me the kind of people I was working with and just how much control they really had. I found that discussion fairly early on during my investigation (if you can even call it that) and it was enough for me to stop immediately.
The way it seemed at the time was that I had been hearing of a bear in the woods. So I mount a hunt to go and find this bear, and I track it down to the cave. I sneak it, gun at the ready, and whip around the corner, only to find I'm not hunting a bear, I never was. This thing is not a bear, nothing like a bear.
No, I realized I was a fool looking for a colossus.
2001: The Closest I Ever Came to the Foundation
I have only ever interacted with two of what the Foundation called "SCP objects." Skips is common slang for Foundation employees. I guess that included myself, which is an alienating thought. Even then I was only tangentially working for the Foundation. They aren't who I recieved the bulk of my paycheck from, only a little stipend.
The only ever other SCP object I have ever seen - in the context of my employee of the Foundation, I've seen all the ones on the news - is SCP-978. They call it the "Desire Camera". It doesn't take pictures, it shows whatever the subject wants most in the world.
In case you're keeping track, this means I interacted with an tree stump capable of causing an eschaton and what really amounted to a toy.
An agent had come down from Portland, carrying the camera with this veneer of secrecy and safety, like it was precious cargo. We had been informed of the visit weeks in advance, and had been told to prepare for the event like it was of the utmost importance. We treated that way, the fools we are, because we didn't want to let the big, scary, spooky Foundation down.
So the agent comes in, all full of himself. We all have a thousand questions for him - everyone there worked for the Foundation, but had any of us ever seen the inside of a Site? Even so much as touched another anomaly? We were all Level 0, with an elevation for 3310. I'm 4/3310/HMCL now, sure, but for everything else I'm stuck at 0.
I was the one boating him on the lake to take the photo and along the way I tried to make small talk with him. He wasn't having any of it, so I shut up. I took the containment of 3310 seriously - everyone at Crater Lake did. Nothing but the utmost professionalism when it came to that log and that lake. Still do, mind you. That wouldn't change anything.
We had been told it could end the world. I hear that a lot of Foundation agents deal with something called "K-Class Fatigue". You keep hearing about this and that can lead to the end of the world and that phrase stops carrying any weight. It diminishes the importance and you stop caring, those words stop being important.
But those few of us stationed at Crater Lake only ever dealt with the one object, and we only ever heard that one thing had potential to the end the world. There would be nights when we'd ask each other if we thought there was a potential of there being other world enders out there, and we'd always settle on the answer of "Most likely, yes, but let's not worry about it."
The agent and me were out on the lake, sitting in a small motor boat. It had taken a few minutes to find the Old Man - he's a wanderer - and the agent seemed like he was getting fed up with me. I imagine there has to be a massive difference in standards between a Park Ranger and a Foundation Agent. Both of us were competent at our jobs, but they weren't the same job.
We pulled up to the Old Man and he snapped a photo. The print came out instantly, since it was a Polaroid. He shook it out, and showed it to me with a look on his face like I was supposed to explain it.
It was a completely different picture. The Old Man - I just knew it was him - was back to being a tree, planted in the ground and whole again. At the bottom of the picture were two figures, not quite human. One was attacking the other, breaking open his rip cage and biting his heart. It was gruesome.
I told the agent that it probably represented Llao and Skell. At that point in time, I had gone above and beyond looking for any scraps of information about those two, in the off chance that any of it might help me deal with a "containment breach." Didn't do me any good, of course: all you need to know about this job is that there are storms and monsters.
That photo, by the way, never got included in any of the documentation on 3310. Apparently, the photos 978 produces aen't reliable enough or something for the Foundation to put any actual weight on them, so they pretty much just get ignored outside of the file log on 978 itself.
That day was one of the most important days of my career. It didn't even matter to my job in the slightest.
2013: When the Masquerade Was Shattered
I was coming into work one day, a few days after the whole thing in Korea. You remember that there was that one brief gap between it happening and the Masquerade really breaking, right? It wasn't immediate, like everyone seems to pretend it was. Hell, Korea barely had anything to do with the end of the Masquerade.
When I came in, all of my staff were huddled around one the TV in the break room. One turned his head up with the most sullen look on her face.
"You need to see this."
I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it sure as hell wasn't the words "SCP Foundation" plastered across the banner of CNN. Total information release about the Foundation, all of the files dropped onto the internet. To this day, they still don't know who did it. Did you know that? Our world was flipped on its head, completely shattered and we don't know who to thank for it.
I wonder if they're still alive. They wouldn't be if the Foundation got ahold of them.
Twenty years in the Foundation, at that point. I had gotten used to the idea of living in the dark for the rest of my life, and never actually finding out who or what I was working for. But there it was, on the screen, loud and clear: the Foundation was real and they were here to stay.
You have to remember that our situation was very different from almost the entire rest of the world. Those stationed at Crater Lake knew about the Foundation, but we only need the numbers of two anomalies. There were hypothetically a thousand more, but they were only ever alluded to.
So we weren't like the rest of the Foundation, because of how unfamiliar and clueless we were about the Foundation when the Masquerade broke. And we weren't like the rest of the world, because we weren't quite as clueless as they were. We had, at the very least, heard about their mission statement before. We knew the anomalous existed, we just didn't know anything more concrete than that.
There weren't many people in the world who had the same perspective as us. There were other people had the same situation as we did, but they were few and far between. I've had the chance to meet a couple of them over the years, but that was a while after the Masquerade Broke.
And fuck if the Foundation was going to give a shit about us.
2014: When the Storm Broke
I'm sure that you're aware of that whole phenomenon were the Sites got swamped by protesters and onlookers, right? That was a major problem for a lot of them in the early days after the Foundation went public, but for the most part they were ready for it.
Us? Ha, good luck. There weren't nearly as many people coming to Crater Lake, but we had a noticeable surge in activity. Some people were just trying to get a look at the Old Man (I had made a decision to stop any non-Foundation lake travel to stop that), but there were those people who tried to use us as a way to get into the Foundation.
They never believed me when I told them that I knew jack shit about the Foundation, and I really can't blame them. I wouldn't have believed myself either - my name was in the personnel directories, right there with a Level 4 Clearance. How could somebody that high not know what's going on? How could they not have answers?
But the journalists and the reporters - don't even get me started on that hack Information Breach - weren't the worst of our problems. The files on 3310 were released to everyone - not just the general public, but also to those "Groups of Importance." I had never even heard of any of them prior to the Masquerade, only that one American Secure Containment Initiative, because it was in the 3310 documentation. And they don't exist anymore!
Sarkics were the first to attack us. At the time I didn't know anything about them, but I've done a little research of myself. The Foundation's databanks are very informative, not that my position gives me any access to them.
It was a small group of Neo-Sarkics, only about eight of them. When they rolled up, we pretty much just rolled and let them take over the park. They struck at night, and we were just a night shift. Not many of them, but even fewer of us. We were just Park Rangers, and they were armed to the teeth - a few of them armed with teeth.
That's what caused the eighth activation of 3310, those idiots. They pulled the Old Man out of the lake, and immediately the skies turned dark. The Gammas looked like insects that time. They climbed out of the ground and started charging the lake. Awful, still get nightmares about them.
The bugs started getting zapped with lightning coming from the clouds, just like normal. The Sigma event stops the Gamma until somebody can throw the Old Man back into position and let him do his thing. It's not looking good, however: there are way too many of the insects, and Skell's getting overwhelmed. Can't kill them all.
But then something unexpected happened - eight bolts, all at once, fucking smote those Sarkics. Instantly dead, all of them. Skell's smart - he realized what he needed to do. I swear I heard something chuckling right after, this warm laugh that fills your soul.
Skell's a real proper god, not like that Yaldy. Looking out for his devotees and servants, saving them from the heretics. You can't convince me that the Sigmas aren't targeted. Ever one to return to the favor, I gave the Old Man a push back into Crater Lake and saved the day.
That was enough for the Foundation to up our security detail. The Chaos Insurgency attacked a couple months later, and for about a year afterward the whole park was swarming with black ops. I managed to stay in control of operations thanks to a twenty year service record, but I never really was in control. How can you tell a man with a gun you outrank him?
2022: When I Gave Up
After thirty years of Foundation, I decided that I had enough. Things had mostly normalized around Crater Lake, but after the latest scandal - I can't even remember what it was, there were so many - the camel's back broke. I'd found a job in the private sector, uninvolved from the anomalous. They agreed to hire me, and I submitted my two weeks to both the Foundation and the Parks Service.
Parks Service was the easy ones. I feel like what I've said to you may not have really represented my employment status the best - I was firstly and foremostly working for the Parks Service. The Foundation came up infrequently, but you couldn't ignore it when it did. So I had dealt with them plenty of times, I knew what to expect.
But the Foundation? Give me a break. Their entire idea is secrecy. I was shocked when I got a response after quitting, and then it was invitation to Site-64. Now that was the cruelest twist of fate: only when you quit do you get to go to a Foundation site.
Once I had packed up and everything, I made the drive up to Portland. Fortunately, it was on the way to my next job, and I didn't have to go out of the way. I like the fact that I didn't have to give anything more to the Foundation at the end.
I've heard that in the days before the end of the Masquerade, Site-64 was subterranean and under a park in Portland. Now there's an above ground entrance, maximum security and it looks like a military base. They probably bulldozed the park to make room for all that. Fuckers.
I'll never forget the look on the guard's face when I handed him a Level 4 ID card. Sure, that level was only for one item, but my card still was still orange and emblazoned with a 4. Not many Level 4s drive a car like mine, or look like me. They're stuck up in the labs.
The reason I was there was because the Site Director - Holman was his name, I think - wanted to meet with me to discuss 3310. Apparently 64 was the closest Site and had been overseeing our containment to a little degree. Our meeting would be recorded, and sent off to the O5 Council.
I've already talked about how I don't like the concept of the O5s, right? Good.
The talk went pretty well. I told him everything I knew about the anomaly, and what he needed to brief the next poor sap to get my job. The little things I had picked up along the way, nothing major. I gave him a recommendation among the staff, and it was also pleasant.
Until the end. He told me that they were planning on phasing the prior method of staffing Crater Lake with people who already worked there. That had arisen from the need for secrecy, and had continued on after the end of the Masquerade, but it was no longer needed in this day and age.
I wasn't a fan of that proposal, but honestly, I couldn't be bothered to care anymore. I had enough with the Foundation, so I just smiled and told him that seemed like a fine plan. I left my badge on his desk, thanked him, and left.
The elevators took me to the surface, and I stepped outside. I was done dying in the dark, and now was my time to live in the light.
