Ultimate Ridley Sandbox
rating: 0+x
Item#: 5XXX
Level1
Containment Class:
keter
Secondary Class:
none
Disruption Class:
vlam
Risk Class:
notice

SCP_Auvergne1b

Archival photograph of SCP-5XXX taken at a live performance in 1968. The lead bandmates are labeled accordingly, though SCP-5XXX-1 is seen here without microphone or violin. The two individuals in the background are unknown civilians.

Special Containment Procedures (Archived): SCP-5XXX is currently uncontained. Containment is considered unnecessary at this time. The anomaly is to be contained as soon as possible and by any means necessary. Any manifestation originating from SCP-5XXX (whether in digital or physical form) is to be promptly removed and destroyed. Any personnel who refuse to contain the anomaly after exposure are to be considered infected and must be isolated and treated with amnestics immediately. Report to Site Director Carlisle for debriefing.

Update 05/24/2010: Musical venues within what is traditionally defined as the region of Auvergne, France, are to be extensively monitored for visitation by SCP-5XXX. Assigned personnel—of whom none can be individuals previously treated with amnestics—will attend any live performances armed with durapolymer earplugs, posing as bouncers hired by a Foundation front security firm; their assignment is to ensure nobody touches SCP-5XXX after sundown. Assigned personnel are not to look at SCP-5XXX-1 through -3 unless absolutely necessary. Interactions with SCP-5XXX-1 through -3 are strictly forbidden except under special circumstances; physical contact is disallowed with no exceptions. A scan of every major online music distribution service is to be performed every 24 hours to detect any possible manifestations of SCP-5XXX and subsequently remove them.

Description: SCP-5XXX is a traditional folk music group known as [EXPUNGED]1 hailing from Issoire, Auvergne, France. The specific identities of the individuals that comprise the group cannot be conclusively ascertained, further complicated by the group appearing to trade individuals in and out at unknown intervals of time, sometimes having as many as twenty people. The only individuals which do not ever change are the three lead musicians, hereafter SCP-5XXX-1, -2, and -3. Despite the group being active since 1964 at the latest, these three individuals appear to never age, with contemporary photos and modern photos both showing them as middle aged men (5XXX-1 and -3) and a middle-aged woman (5XXX-2).

The primary anomalous effects of the group manifest in the music they produce. Unless a listener is trained with anti-memetics, they will begin to experience a potent relaxation impulse upon exposure, affecting their entire body and its systems. After the song is over, they will search for more music by the group, or in the case of a live performance, they will begin dancing or participating. The group will very quickly enter the listener's list of personal favorite music acts regardless of their previous taste in music, and in at least 98% of cases the group's music has been confirmed to alleviate stress, anxiety, paranoia, and even severe depression.

Under particular circumstances which are not fully understood as of yet, video footage of SCP-5XXX will result in the viewer beginning to sob uncontrollably, alongside potentially other (generally positive) effects. If individuals other than SCP-5XXX-1 through -3 perform the music, described effects will still ensue. Peculiarly, any prior treatment with amnestics will be reversed upon exposure, causing the afflicted subject to suddenly remember everything since their first exposure to SCP-5XXX as well as anything previously wiped from their memory.

Individuals suffering from a total loss of auditory senses2 face no anomalous effects when hearing music produced by SCP-5XXX; however in live performances, they will begin to exhibit the usual described effects—dancing to the music despite being unable to hear it or describe it afterwards, and becoming acutely fond of the group.

SCP_Auvergne_album2.png

Cover of the album released by SCP-5XXX on iTunes in 2006. The group's name is whited out for safety.

Knowledge of SCP-5XXX went completely undocumented until 2006, when an album composed by the anomaly in 2004 titled Après soleil couché (French for "after sundown") was released on iTunes3. Foundation agents embedded on various internet forums noticed a sudden 1200% uptick in frequency of recommendations for a group named [EXPUNGED]; upon cursory investigation merely out of curiosity, these agents also grew acutely fond of the group's music, despite their previous tastes in music ranging from heavy metal to hip-hop. One agent identified the feelings they were experiencing as anomalous, and reported this to the Foundation. This resulted in research into SCP-5XXX and subsequent contact.

Post-Encounter Report 5XXX-A

As of the publication of Post-Encounter Report 5XXX-A within Foundation records, the use of Class-A amnestics in response to affective exposure to SCP-5XXX has been authorized by the Site-43 Administrative Council, citing a precaution that prolonged exposure to and fondness of SCP-5XXX could potentially result in undesirable effects; with a caveat that long-term D-Class testing in order to properly map out the effects of SCP-5XXX would begin promptly.

It was also suggested that music produced by SCP-5XXX be tested on various other SCP anomalies, particularly humanoid ones, to determine the extent of its effects.

Goddamn it, Kyle, no, N-O! Strike that shit out. I want it cut from the document by the end of the week. Unless the O5s themselves demand it, it won't happen. I won't let it. — Carlisle

Reminder: Start testing on other SCP anomalies in Site-43 after I'm through with the fucker up top.

Post-Encounter Report 5XXX-B

Following Encounter 5XXX-B, extensive testing was done on the instruments retrieved by the Junebugs in order to determine if the instruments were the source of anomaly. On the orders of Carlisle, research teams utilized generic procedures to this effect as well as technically unauthorized use of SCP-████. It was found that the instruments may have been crafted using wood from another reality, though the nature of this other reality is not known at this time. Each of the instruments had very small etchings (requiring a microscope to properly view) of Phoenician script roughly spelling out "VNTS TRSK4. Research as to the meaning and origin of the etchings is currently underway.

Thorough testing which culminated in a brief controlled performance by Foundation personnel trained in the instruments' use has ultimately yielded no anomalous effects. It was thus concluded that the humanoid entities at the head of the music group were the true anomaly.

SCP-5XXX-EX Extended Investigation Report

After the VHS tape was recovered from Desq's apartment, Site Director Carlisle first had D-Class personnel involved in long-term exposure tests watch the video in isolation. Every single D-Class broke down in tears from the video.

The forty-five second video was described as being in black and white and extremely poor camera quality. The lead bandmates, surrounded by auxiliary musicians, appear in choir formation, with SCP-5XXX-3 being in the front and center. SCP-5XXX-1 proceeds to apologize for the bad camera quality, after which the auxiliary musicians all laugh; -1 then thanks the viewers ("plus the rest of you watching") for "choosing happiness" and remarks how special every fan is. They all give a bow before the video cuts to black.

Site Director Carlisle proceeded to lock the video in the site's vault, with explicit orders that it never be recovered unless demanded by an O5. Carlisle then opened the letter Agent Desq wrote to him:

How can you justify containing what should be left free?

The letter had a flash drive attached to it. Carlisle sent the flash drive to Dr. Lasing for examination, whereupon it was revealed to contain only an audio file of Agent Desq singing a song by SCP-5XXX in perfect tune. They then shared the following correspondence via email:

Lasing, ████ on 02/16/2007, 21:59
Subject: Resignation

I, Dr. ████ Lasing, hereby resign from my duties with the SCP Foundation on the basis of moral quandaries. I have attached an audio recording in which I verify that I fully intend to go forward with this.

At this time, the Foundation is suspending pursuit of SCP-5XXX until further notice.
— O5-█

…That's it? That's how it fucking ends? It's been over a decade.

No. Bullshit. There has to be more. I'm reopening the file.