Global Occult Coalition:
- SCP-008: A standard zombophagic prion
You start typing after yet another long day of inspections. After the Veil fell, D-Class personnel are no longer a thing, and you're a part of a team that's liquidating archaic SCP's by the daily. Someone has to keep the lights on, you and many others are still needed because of horrors that actively want to kill humanity.
“The GOC thanks you for the various paradiseases you’ve sold us. Despite the contrived claims, we will not destroy these. Instead, we will use them as research. It is paramount to be ahead when it comes to disease control, especially ones not bound by conventional understanding. Education is important after all, and we’re here to make sure the public knows how to handle even the most simple of zombies.”
You shake your head, ignoring the visions of what GOC work is like. You were born to extravisional parents, seeing versions of yourself in positions you could've taken in life, be it past, present, or future. The issue is, you don't know how to become these more successful, satisfied, or happier versions of you, so you're stuck as a Level 3 researcher. You keep your ability to yourself, as you'd prefer to shut your traps. The visions are disruptive, but they're no different from the regular thoughts in your head. You're alone in your head with your life's visions of better possibilities as your only company. Misery loves…something.
Either way, headaches don’t pay the bills.
Manna Charitable Foundation:
“Thank you for your charity. Nobody in the world deserves to go hungry. Others may complain it will take away the art of baking, having a source of nigh infinite food. However, just because mass production exists, does not mean the art of creation itself is dead.”
It’s funny, seeing these SCPs being heavily analyzed like never before. Searching for anything beyond what they already possess. Turns out no, most of them are exactly what they do. Straightforward.
Aside from "murder monsters" and esoteric concepts that leave you scratching your head, the Foundation started with these Anomalous Objects. You yourself wasn't part of the beginning years, of ye olden times, but you did see origins. Everything’s hazy, different, just a bunch of jumbled strings barely resembling a coherent knot. Yet somehow, it ties it all together, this universe or world you live in. Doesn't really matter. You just know that the Foundation is shifting its focus to what matters more. There are things on a scale so grand you barely fit into it at all. Beings among us and beyond that dictate the rules of the universe above the constraints of governments, physics, or logic.
Compared to those? These AO's are laughably insignificant.
The Alcur Hospital:
- SCP-500: Pills that can cure anything
“You are wise to trust us to share these, with our technologies available to replicate these ad infinitum. Now almost everyone in your world can be free of suffering…almost. Now, if only you’ll let us take care of the rest of your patients…perhaps we can be more than amicable.”
Some of the AO's are lax on security, just keep it in a box or whatever. The Foundation could still theoretically contain them, but the money was worth it. Both money and goodwill to recover from that whole D-Class fiasco. After all, everyone needs money to afford to live. That is, if money is still going to be relevant in this new world. For all you know, there could be a tree that grew anything. You heard another member working on something like that.
That’s another thing, you love guessing what there is and what could be. Lately, your team guessed where these AO's came from. Some had their own ideas, like the pizza box either came from a simple pity party or it’s part of a pantheon of gods that transformed into something modern. You checked yourself, and all their theories were correct, even if contradictory. In this reality though, nothing was definitive, and the files for their origins were lost when the veil broke.
You'd think having a power like this makes you a savant of a clairvoyant. But honestly? It's similar to gambling. Betting on 17 Black and letting it ride isn't the best use of what you consider to be an extravisionary imagination. Speaking of gambling, the Foundation itself gambles a lot of security detail on whatever new thing is in here.
They have the budget to afford containment of nigh unstoppable beings, but can’t afford a decent database to keep things from being lost? Funny.
Wilson’s Wildlife Solution:
- SCP-131: Eye Pods that found out how to make babies
“Golly! Glad you gave us these lil guys before things got hectic at your site, boss! They’re quite cute, if not a little mischievous from time to time. 8 puppies! Nevertheless, we’re here to help! We’re dealing with the influx of a few critters here and there. Which would be a bad thing, if not for the bunch of recruits we got as of late. And with that, lots of press!”
Of course, there’s aspects that have been recently discovered. Mainly because those weren’t the main focus of the initial analysis when the Foundation started liquidation. You never really realize a cat with no butt is immortal until you realize it kept being the same for years on end. That and there’s no point for the Wilsons to take something that’s relatively normal in Foundation standards. But either way, there are some things here that need to stay for containment's sake.
You wonder why people make them. Wonder is distinct enough from guessing, it’s more…silly. It’s not bad, but it is embarrassing to admit. Is it curiosity? Morbidity? Both? Who knows? You once had an activity in a class or a party as a kid, where you had to make something and explain what it was. You made something… and that was it. You remember them asking you what it meant, and you just said that it was what it was. Nothing more, nothing less.
???:
SCP-999: Orange blob that wants to make people happy
And then it hits you, literally. The “goopy doopy” nudges your leg for attention, giving you those puppy eyes for that piece of candy you’re required to keep around. You’re a bit mixed about this thing, even though it’s just…something that wants to make you happy. There’s no catch, no ulterior motive. It just is? In light of the fact that its antidepressant effect was found to be skewed because of outdated therapeutic data, there's nothing else it has to it other than being "sloppy gloppy".
"Burr…"
But maybe…that’s okay? Maybe it's okay that there's no point, no meaningful story behind these anomalies. They’re just things that exist, like everyone and everything. What you did in the millions of possibilities you saw, despite being out of reach, are still a part of your history. And these? They’re a part of the Foundation’s history. Others may have moved on, but they’re still here.
You could've been more, you could've been different. You claim to be content where you are at the moment, but you don't think you'll ever stop wondering. You've seen yourself as a warlord, a demon, a powerful being that has it all. Even then, those versions of you seemed miserable.
You like it here, and it likes it here as well. The Foundation still has to protect its anomalies alongside humanity. A lot of people tend to forget that as time went on, which you suppose is the reason why they got rid of the D-Class. They are part of humanity, even if they're kinda evil here and there. You…hope they got rid of them anyway.
“Bweh blore blopblop byeir…”
Yeah… you guess it agrees with what you thought about.
There might be no deeper meaning, but there is meaning to be found nonetheless.
It’s okay to be simple.
Everyone starts that way.