(Before we get into this page, I'm here to inform you that from now on, there will be info about the page in the title, only if it helps tell the main focus of the page. There will also be special pages that will be indicated by these: {} around the title.
Special pages are a break from the stricter narrative and are still canon. Like a fluff page with an scp or a request. They're only non-canon if marked so at the top of the page in one of these notes.
So please read these if you want to know the changes I make.)
In the absence of sound from the intercom's message, you internally sighed. Just because you stayed mostly silent when it came to complaints didn't mean that you had no complaints at all. In fact, it meant that you had bottled up a considerable amount more.
It was a few minutes each time they went to open the door, so in that short expanse, you had time to do something in preparation for their entrance if you so desired. You didn't exactly, though, and instead drew ice from the inhospitably cold air and trailed it like a stream around your body in rings.
Slowly, the ice turned to water as the rings of newly formed liquid condensed to needle thin before as you heard the door open, you let loose your tide. It exploded forward with high force, going from a small point to a miniature tsunami that slammed the guards entering into the wall they once had passed.
As soon as it echoed back as a weakened wave, you swung your arm in a hardly noticeable yet violent flick, causing the wave to swirl and turn a foamy white as it splashed against the metal walls, only to become static and freeze in an instant, coating everything in the entrance hall with an icy glaze.
You couldn't help but hear the vicious protest around your actions. They wanted you to stop. You meekly smiled in knowing that you never started; you walked to each frozen member of those guards and yanked them from the ice in quick succession, shattering the thin layers that held them.
You were left with the same amount of guards, all making sailors proud from the language sent your way from the shivering pile. What was the point? Simply to explore the boundaries. Well, that as well as getting even for the unpredictable nature of your new schedule in this place.
Guns were pointed at you when they had finally finished swearing, and each had twice a scope trained on your actions as you were escorted through the halls. Though you were truly petrified at being held to gunpoint, your silence only expressed the faintest frown to hint displeasure at best.
As soon as you saw a small containment room, you were immediately dissatisfied that they truly had delayed your visit to 682. Not like your qualms were expressed before they shoved you into the opened chamber. Your rubbed your left shoulder in discomfort from their strange preference to specifically manhandle you there before taking a glance around with your anomalous perception.
It was a pitiful little cell of a room decorated by the odd splash of blood, being the only renovation the place had to speak of. The walls near the entrance were sloppily stitched together by hundreds of welds, presumably breach fixes, and the centrepiece was a slender being hunched up on the floor with so much dna splattered on the face that any attempt to differentiate might end up with a whole new identity altogether.
Though, arguably, the most disturbing feature is that past the elongated limbs where course skin hugged the bone like rubber, this being was crying. It was distraught.
As you finished observing what you couldn't 'see', a voice sounded out over the groaning creature's noise. "SCP-0X447, please observe SCP-096's face in the same manner that you had done with SCP-173." Said the researcher from the room adjacent. You knew it was adjacent because you felt their presence.
Though you didn't feel like intruding, you moved over to 096 and sat in front of what you would call a 'him' out of convenience. He slowly looked up at your blindfolded face, locking eyes with where your currently unused ones were.
Although as you observed the features, there was nothing. No crying, no anger, just a blind staring competition as you took note of how his face really looked. Oval head, cheeks pulled in to unnatural levels, drained and withered green eyes with a lack of a nose and shrivelled lips that looked as if he was simply just parched.
Dental hygiene nonexistent, and yet no decay, but simply sharp teeth. Gums a sickly pale grey, however. Somewhat just resembling a long neglected elder but with dangerous teeth. It wasn't as bad as files you peeked at again, and seemed like he needed to be on life support more than anything.
The both of you simply sat in mutual, comfortable silence, and by the time you were called out, the scp had a delicate, contempt smile, as if you held his burdens back for a while. Even with your introversion, you couldn't help but leave with a supportive smile of your own, however soft it was before you were ordered out by the guards.
As soon as you were out, your expression paled again as it turned to it's neutral state. Apparently, once again you had stumped the researchers on how your sight whilst blindfolded worked; that you could observe and not observe something at the same time.
Quantum mechanics would have a field day with that.
Although you weren't thinking about that as instead you had a wonderful reptile to visit now. As per arrangement, at least. It seemed to be true, as well, because you were guided and then pushed into the chamber of who you'd consider your only friend here.
682.
[It might be a little bit shorter than usual this time, but I assure you that I'm saving all of my page material for the page after this one.
I'm not sure who else shares my opinion, but I personally really like the idea that 682 can find someone he's actually happy to be with instead of just babysitting or being forced to endure 999. Whilst 079 counts, it's too unorganised for me to think them as fully friends.
Anyhow, this is the Author,
Øwuelen]
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Glacial Motion (An SCP Reader Insert)
FanfictionA Reader Insert, into the SCP Foundation. Life; something given to nothing, as to create a separate, innately, and equally alive entity. To slow these motions is to "take" this life. What is it, to then say that the stillness to "take" life does no...