SCP-99826-J
rating: +26+x

Item #: SCP-99826-J

Object Class: Thaumiel

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-99826-J is to be contained in a locker inside the office of Dr. Seo-jin Cho, as she is the only person who is aware of the object’s inner workings.

Description: SCP-99826-J is an anomalous device created on January 3rd, 2003 by Dr. Seo-jin Cho. It is capable of various functions, most of them producing a direct recreation of various memetic, metaphysical, conceptual, ontokinetic, temporal, and para-psychological anomalous phenomena currently known to the Foundation. As some of them are directly useful for the containment and/or research of many high-priority SCP objects, SCP-99826-J is classified as Thaumiel.

SCP-99826-J is in the shape of a wide metal screw pointing upwards, with a height of 0.65 meters. Inscribed on the bottom of the device is a stylized depiction of a human brain. It features a terminal screen, a miniature keyboard, and multiple buttons and switches labeled in an unknown language English using a convoluted writing system created by Dr. Cho.

Addendum 99826-J-1: The following are transcripts of some recorded instances in which the capabilities of SCP-99826-J were demonstrated by Dr. Cho.

Log 2003-01-04

[BEGIN LOG]

Dr. Cho is seen in a room, facing Researcher Lynn. SCP-99826-J is placed on a table between them.

Lynn: Was that a camera?

Cho: Yep, this is being recorded. It's the first demonstration outside of a lab setting, so I'd need to know what would happen if something went wrong.

Lynn: Right. (pauses) So you’re saying that this machine is going to make you speak in the color purple? Is it thaumaturgical?

Cho: Yes and yes. This machine, specifically, is powered by miniature Type-Yggdrasil Umbro-Spectral Class Cricetidic entities.

Lynn: … Tiny ghost hamsters?

Cho: Don’t call it that.

Dr. Cho types a string of commands on a miniature keyboard, and places her hand on the side of SCP-99826-J.

Cho: And… now I should be speaking in purple.

Lynn: Wow, that’s cool! It’s like… I’m hearing something I shouldn’t be able to?

Cho: Oh, yeah, I know that feeling. (chuckles) I call it “audiodissonance”1.

Lynn: Wait, you can’t do that!

Cho: Do what?

Lynn: It’s supposed to be a feeling you can’t describe in words! You can’t just make up a word for it!

Cho: Oh. (facepalms) Right. Should I remove that word from existence, then?

Lynn: … You can do that?

Dr. Cho takes her hand off SCP-99826-J.

Cho: Yep! Watch.

Dr. Cho types on the miniature keyboard, and rotates the device to a button panel. A small, distressed squeaking sound emanates from within SCP-99826-J.

Cho: What flavor of removal do you want? Physical removal of the word, or just dissociation of meaning? Also, should I make it retroactive?

Lynn: Um, I don’t really want to cause a lot of trouble for the people over at Metaphysics, so… I’ll be choosing the dissociation option, and make it non-retroactive, please.

Cho: Alright then, one non-retroactive linguistic removal coming right up!

Dr. Cho presses a button on the panel.

(Silence for 3 seconds)

Lynn: Well, that was kind of anticlimactic.

Cho: What did you expect?

Lynn: Like, a bunch of researchers freaking out, or at least something a lot more dramatic than that to match the scale of the implications, you know?

A series of frantic footsteps and muffled exclamations can be heard from the distance, presumably from the Metaphysics Department.

Cho: (points to the hallway) Well, there you go.

Lynn: Huh.

Cho: I think I might have to report this to the Site Director.

Researcher Lynn sighs. Dr. Cho turns off the camera.

[END LOG]

Log 2003-01-08

[BEGIN LOG]

Dr. Cho walks into the cell of PoI-211.2

Cho: Good morning, PoI-211.

PoI-211: Good morning.

Cho: How've things been since our last check-up? Any issues you want to talk about?

PoI-211: Well, apart from the fact that I’m indefinitely stuck here against my will, no, not much. I’ve just been spending my time reading the books you gave me.

Cho: That’s great!

Dr. Cho takes out a small plastic box, and places it on the table.

Cho: Today, I'm gonna ask you to you do a little test for me. Nothing dangerous; it’s just about checking if the effects of SCP-████ had any effect on your ability to grasp abstract concepts.

PoI-211 nods. Dr. Cho opens the plastic box to reveal a physical manifestation of the abstract concept of happiness, created by SCP-99826-J some minutes prior.

Cho: What do you see inside this box?

PoI-211: (hesitates) Wait, how is this even possible?

Cho: Could you pick it up?

PoI-211 reaches inside the box and takes out the happiness.

PoI-211: This feels… strange. Unreal, even. It feels like I’m holding something I’m not supposed to, something not meant to exist. What is the meaning of life? Are we ultimately meaningless in the grand—

Cho: (interrupting) Right, enough of that. Now can you hold it firmly in your hand?

PoI-211: Uh, sure.

PoI-211 grasps the abstract concept of happiness. Test concluded.

[END LOG]


Note: It has been determined that examinations such as the one presented above are significantly easier and less time-consuming when SCP-99826-J is used, compared to usual methods. As such, SCP-99826-J has been authorized to be utilized in this way.

Log [DATA LOST]

[BEGIN LOG]

Dr. Cho is sitting on a chair in an empty room. She is facing the camera. The video appears to be captured by a camera attached to SCP-99826-J.

Cho: You know, I’ve never actually studied pataphysics, but ever since I first learned about it, the concept always seemed so intriguing to me.

Dr. Cho starts walking towards the camera.

Cho: So, for the final mind screw, I will be acknowledging your existence, authors and readers.

Dr. Cho crouches down and stares into the camera for three minutes, smiling mischievously.

Cho: (whispering) I know you’re there.

Dr. Cho stares into the camera for two more minutes.

Cho: Ow, leg cramp.

[END LOG]

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