Sightseeing Canadian Problems

Sightseeing Canadian Problems

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Asterisk43.png

2003

9 September

Site-43: Lambton County, Ontario, Canada


Doctor Lillian S. Lillihammer stood opposite a wall, staring at it intently.

She walked about the Theology and Teleology offices aimlessly, eyes still fixated upon the central rotunda's wall as she babbled nonsense. Truth be told, Dr. Lillihammer wasn't quite feeling herself, having become an Empty as a casualty of the capital "B" Breach and spent her days doing nothing. Naturally, this would upset Dr. Lillihammer, but as previously established, she was not quite feeling herself, so it wasn't too big of a deal. At least not for now.

There was a flash just around the bend, accompanied by the shuffling of footsteps.

"Okay, everyone, stay close by and follow the flag!" a middle-aged woman wearing a matching blue vest, button-up, and an ascot walked around the corner. She was carrying with her a megaphone and a flag with her company's guided tour logo on it. Following her was a gaggle of twenty or so other men and women, all of them wielding cameras.

"We are currently in a highly important narrative area; the location where Dr. Lillihammer, who you can see standing over there —" she continued into the megaphone, bringing the group to a stop in front of the memetecist and pointing at her with the flag. "— no flash photography please! She will remain standing here for most of the duration of this Deadline; her brain having been turned to mush by the Breach of 2003," she carried on as the guided tour began gawking and taking pictures.

"Three," Lillihammer agreed.

"Now, if you could all please follow me, I will be activating our spatial-temporal scramblers, as we are about to witness a key moment in the history of this Deadline, and meet someone we haven't met before!" the tour guide momentarily bundled both objects she carried on her right arm, reached for her left wrist, and pressed a button. "You might feel a slight discomfort, and remember, Nyorai Sightseeing is not responsible for temporal displacement as a result of interfering with the timeline, so please, hands and feet to yourselves!"

"Yourselves." Lillihammer echoed.

The group slowly faded into the background of the room they found themselves in just as a pair of footsteps began approaching. Eventually, they gave way to the appearance of Daniil Sokolsky in a tank top, khaki shorts and flip-flops. He stopped in front of her cocked head, and smiled sadly.

"Evening," he said.

"Evening," she said back.

nyorai.svg

?????

Unknown

Nyorai Sightseeing Headquarters, Saitama Prefecture, Kanto, Japan


The Nyorai Sightseeing employee office reeked of stale cigarettes and air freshener, locked in a stalemate for dominance over which scent was more offensive.

"I can't believe they have me traveling to Canada —" Mizumi, one of the seniormost tour guides of the company, sighed between drags of her cigarette. "— I don't care about Canada. Nobody does. Not even the boss. Who even says 'I want to visit Canada!?' Nobody, that's who."

"And yet, here we are, with more and more tourists wanting to visit Site-43 during the various Deadlines," Mako, one of the younger tour guides spoke up. "Besides, you get to leave the country! How cool is that?"

Mizumi rolled her eyes and made a face.

"It beats constant tours of Edo and repeatedly having to stop paradoxes from happening from all the careless tourists," the third present tour guide, a middle aged woman with crow's feet named Kana chuckled, sparking up her own cigarette.

"What's Canada like, Mizumi-senpai?" asked Mako.

"Cold."





Asterisk43.png

1943

31 December

Site-43: Lambton County, Ontario, Canada


A flash.

"Okay, everyone, I must ask you all keep quiet and not take flash photography images for this part of the tour," Mizumi spoke in a hushed tone, motioning for the tour group to follow after her with her flag as they skulked through the ADDC's cramped backrooms. "Stay close to me! Please follow the flag!"

A short redhead woman accompanied by a squat, schlubby man walked towards the ADDC incinerator room from the document storage up ahead. They were locked in conversation and not paying much attention to the shuffling of feet of the group of tourists.

"Yes. The anomalous document that killed Lyse… I have the last of it. It won't hurt anyone ever again." the woman walked towards the blast furnace, opening it up and tossing in a few documents into it. "053213-12321-RVA abated."

"Noted. Do you think maybe you'll start your own family after this?" the man asked.

"This is Dr. Ilse Reynders and her associate, Researcher Jackson Westwicke," Mizumi shout-whispered over the roaring of the blast furnace the other two were operating. The crowd ooh'd and aah'd, taking non-flash pictures in the dark. Mizumi knew better than to expect these pictures to look any sort of good, but telling the tourists that wasn't part of her job description, so she didn't bother. "They are about to incinerate the fateful document which results in Dr. Reynders becoming SCP-5616," she added.

More oohs and aahs. More images. Due to the nature of her position, there was a lot she felt she could do to spare a lot of people a lot of suffering, but the timeline must be maintained. She was paid to be an apathetic observer, catering to people who enjoyed watching those about to suffer a great deal of misery, all while maintaining a smile on her face. She didn't know how Mako kept a smile on her face. Mizumi sighed, watching as Reynders and Jackson continued.

"053214-12413-RVD abated."

"Noted. But, Ilse, do you think you'll ever have a family of your own?"

"053214-12437-RVE abated. I don't know, what kind of question is that?"

As if on cue, Mizumi activated the group's spatial-temporal scramblers.

"How am I meant to know? I'm not an oracle, Jackson. Besides, there's so much that I—"

The tourists clapped and took pictures as the explosion rocked the ADDC.

nyorai.svg

?????

Unknown

Nyorai Sightseeing Headquarters, Saitama Prefecture, Kanto, Japan


"Oh, don't be a sourpuss, Mizumi-senpai!" Mako laughed. "Come on, tell us something interesting about it!"

"There's nothing interesting about it. It's just our usual fair. People dying, people suffering, people wishing they could take actions back. But it's all futile. None of it matters. None of this," she gestured vaguely, then put out her cigarette on an ashtray, "matters."

"Jeez, Mizumi-chan, you sound really upset. Maybe you should ask Murata-sensei to switch you back to domestic tours?" Kana mumbled.

"I don't think I'm going to be staying at this job much longer anyway," Mizumi ripped the ascot off her neck and tossed it to the ground.

"What?" Mako and Kana both balked.

"I fucked up. Big time."


Asterisk43.png

2007

8 September

Site-43: Lambton County, Ontario, Canada


William Wettle took a deep breath.

He checked his watch. 6:24 PM. He checked the clock over the Replication Studies lab door. 6:24 PM. He checked his other watch — it paid to be thorough, when it came to his luck — and at the moment he checked, the minute ticked over.

6:25. Showtime.

He darted to the door.

"And now, we will observe Dr. William We—" Mizumi was abruptly cut off by Wettle crashing into her.


nyorai.svg

?????

Unknown

Nyorai Sightseeing Headquarters, Saitama Prefecture, Kanto, Japan


"So yeah."

"Oh." Mako looked to Kana, who took a drag of her cigarette and folded her arms.

The door to the hallway leading to the boss' office opened, and all three of the women present winced.

"Mizumi-kun," a raspy, toad-like voice came from within.

"Y-yes, Murata-senpai?" she shivered.

"Come in," the voice called out. As if the voice alone were holding the door aloft, it shut immediately after with a gentle click.

Mako and Kana dodged eye contact as if it would be the death of them. Mizumi swallowed spit and made her way toward the door, turning it open and entering.

The way to the other side felt like an eternity. She could smell alcohol, cigars, and food up ahead, the combination of which made her dizzy. Pictures of various events Nyorai Sightseeing offered tours to populated the walls, warping into a colorful mishmash of rainbow vomit as she walked.

Her trek down the hallway eventually came to an end, and she opened the door to her boss' office. She entered, and immediately saw him sitting behind his desk. There were papers strewn everywhere, a lit Cuban cigar resting between his fingers, a cold beer and bento box sitting on his desk, balding head, shitty mustache, and fat, greasy folds of flesh stuffed into a suit.

"Mizumi-kun," he smiled like the reaper does to a dead man, "your most recent, shall we say, incident, has caused, quite the, heh, uproar."

"I'm sorry, Murata-sensei. I'll do better next time, I promise! That's if you even keep me, I understand if you want to get rid of me, but please reconsider!"

"No, no, not at all, Mizumi-kun. This whole spiders Deadline is quite the hoot with our customers. The only downside is that some Mongols further down the timeline have acquired access to time travel technology. Not sure how that happened, but that's a problem for another day."








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