SCP 871

Each new character or person will have a quick simple description of their gender, height, name and personality, basically a quick rundown on who they are.

The guards wear a white, full-body suit with a black tactical vest overlapping the torso, which appears to have three pouches mounted on for storage reasons (most likely being the magazines for their standard-issue firearm). Their vest also has an armor panel for protecting the pelvis attached to it. They wear black balaclavas and a black riot helmet with a yellow visor, obscuring any facial detail. They also wear black gloves, black and gray shoulder pads (which include small, light gray rectangular pouches with the word "SD" on them, which presumably stands for "Security Department"), black combat boots, and gray elbow and kneepads (the latter most likely being integrated onto the bodysuit).

Their standard-issue firearm is a P90 TR with a green-lensed ACOG scope attached on the top rail, this weapon also being the standard-issue firearm for the Nine-Tailed Fox with the same green-lensed ACOG scopes attached on the top rail. Researchers form the backbone of the Foundation; they work on a wide range of roles from standard research to more specialized fields. They are often seen wearing white, short-sleeved buttoned shirts with matching-colored pants, red-dotted ties, and brown shoes. The O5 Council. O5 Command. The Overseers. Overwatch.

These are the people who have ultimate control over the Foundation.

Each O5 member knows almost everything there is to know about the Foundation and its activities. Between them all, they know every single secret that the Foundation holds.

Most Foundation personnel spend their entire careers without seeing them. Members below Clearance Level 2 don't even know they exist. Most people outside the Foundation have never heard of them, or don't think they are real.

Most everyone is afraid of them. An O5 walks into a room, and everyone pisses their pants. That's what happens when you hold supreme power over one of the scariest organizations in world history.

This dossier will show you contradictory reports on each of the O5 Council members.

My research has been comprehensive, but the very nature of my enemy makes it impossible to know which answer, if any, is true.

There seem to be thirteen members of the O5 Council, although even that is questionable. Perhaps there are multiple individuals sharing each O5 number. Perhaps dozens. But perhaps there is only one. Perhaps only one of each of the reports is true, or all reports are different facets of one person, with stand-ins and disinformation stirred in.

Perhaps none of these are true. The end of this dossier presents well-sourced reports that question the veracity of almost every single assumption made here. You must judge carefully. Class-D typically wear bright orange jumpsuits or outfits, often adorned with a, "D-Class" label, specific identification numbers, or the SCP Foundation logo, which is an outlined circle with three arrows crossing its contour and pointing to the center. The structure is closed in a thin frame, which repeats its silhouette — a circle with three protruding rectangles. Operating clandestine and worldwide, the Foundation acts beyond conventional jurisdiction, with the task of containing anomalous objects, entities, and phenomena.

We maintain an extensive database of information regarding anomalies requiring Special Containment Procedures, commonly referred to as "SCPs"; all of which undermine the natural laws that the people of the world implicitly trust in.

We operate to maintain normalcy, so that the worldwide civilian population can live and go on with their daily lives without fear, mistrust, or doubt in their personal beliefs, and to maintain human independence from extraterrestrial, extradimensional, and other extranormal influence.

Our mission is threefold:

Secure — secure anomalies to prevent them from falling into the hands of civilian or rival agencies through extensive observation and surveillance, acting to intercept anomalies at the earliest opportunity.

Contain — contain anomalies to prevent spread of their influence or effects; by either relocating, concealing, or dismantling them, or by suppressing public dissemination of knowledge thereof.

Protect — protects humanity as well as the anomalies themselves until such time that they are either fully understood or new theories of science can be devised based on their properties and behavior. The SCP Foundation is a clandestine organization dedicated to containing dangerous and incomprehensible horrors, keeping them safely from the light of day — or so goes their mission statement. There are three main levels for SCP's, Safe, Euclid, and Keter. Safe-class SCP objects are anomalies that are easily and safely contained. This is often due to the fact that the Foundation has researched the SCP well enough that containment does not require significant resources or that the anomalies require a specific and conscious activation or trigger. Classifying an SCP as Safe, however, does not mean that handling or activating it does not pose a threat. Example of a Safe SCP: Scp-999, the tickle monster. Euclid-class SCP objects are anomalies that require more resources to contain completely or where containment isn't always reliable. Usually this is because the SCP is insufficiently understood or inherently unpredictable. Euclid is the Object Class with the greatest scope, and it's usually a safe bet that an SCP will be this class if it doesn't easily fall into any of the other standard Object Classes. Example: SCP-173. Keter-class SCP objects are anomalies that are exceedingly difficult to contain consistently or reliably, with containment procedures often being extensive and complex. The Foundation often can't contain these SCPs well due to not having a solid understanding of the anomaly, or lacking the technology to properly contain or counter it. A Keter SCP does not mean the SCP is dangerous, just that it is simply very difficult or costly to contain. Example: SCP-106.

Item #: SCP-871

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: Each recurrence of SCP-871 is to be maintained within a separate, locked concrete cell on a metal platter permanently affixed to the surface of an immovable wooden table. Each cell housing a recurrence of SCP-871 is to be monitored on a 24-hour basis via closed-circuit camera, with individual feeds checked every 15 minutes.

Upon creation of an instance of SCP-871, 3 Class D personnel are to be escorted by armed guards to its cell, where they are to be sealed with the instance and induced to consume it. No more than one hour may be spent performing this task. In cases where additional motivation is needed, the termination of one of the Class D personnel assigned to an instance of SCP-871 is authorized. Upon completion of the consumption of an instance, no participants may exit the cell until both they and the room have been thoroughly searched to confirm that no portions remain. The platter, table, and room are then to be cleaned in preparation for the next instance.

Class D personnel who prove cooperative in the consumption of an instance of SCP-871 may volunteer to participate in additional consumptions. Personnel exhibiting exceptional usefulness may have their monthly termination postponed. Such personnel are under no circumstances to be allowed to interact with any other SCP object.

No desserts of any kind are to be served on-site at any facility housing a recurrence of SCP-871.

Description: SCP-871 is a collection of 237 cakes. Instances of SCP-871 vary widely in appearance and size, covering the entire range of foods described by humans as "cake". The smallest observed instance of SCP-871 was a miniature cupcake with a mass of 15 grams. The largest yet observed was a 22-kilogram baumkuchen measuring 2 meters in length.

When any instance of SCP-871 is consumed by a human or a collection of humans, it is replaced approximately 24 hours afterward with a similar cake. This cake will appear on a flat surface in the vicinity of the location where the previous instance was eaten. If any of these cakes is substantially damaged through any means other than being eaten by a human, including being eaten by a non-human animal, it will be replaced instantaneously. Instances recreated in this manner maintain the schedule of the original instance. The mechanism by which instances of SCP-871 are replaced is currently unknown.

Individual recurrences of SCP-871 have been observed to "mutate" over time, varying in minor characteristics between each instance, with larger changes occurring in roughly 5% of replacements. No deleterious effects have been observed to result from the consumption of SCP-871, even in cases where several instances have been consumed, excepting those expectable from eating large amounts of cake.

SCP-871's danger originates in the consequences of an instance not being eaten. Any instance of SCP-871 which is not consumed will cause a new cake to be created in its vicinity after 24 hours. While this is similar to its normal "replacement" behavior, the original instance will continue to exhibit the same properties, replicating if damaged and continuing to "replace" itself every 24 hours. This behavior has been observed in all cases where more than 10% of the mass of an instance remained unconsumed. As there is no known mechanism for halting SCP-871's replication, any uncontained instances could replicate exponentially, quickly becoming unmanageable. No maintainable plans for the containment of more than 20,000 instances of SCP-871 have yet been devised. It is estimated that an uncontrolled outbreak originating with a single instance would render the earth uninhabitable within 80 days.