Site 19 Shenanigans.

Her most striking feature is her eyes: dark gray, heavy-lidded, perpetually half-closed in an expression that suggests she is either half-asleep or mildly inconvenienced by whatever you are saying. The skin beneath them carries a faint, permanent shadow from too many late nights and a general disregard for sleep. In civilian clothes she looks like anyone you would pass in an office building; in kit, she looks like an analyst who wandered into a bad neighborhood and decided to stay. ## Field Uniform

Gray-white button-down office shirt, sleeves rolled to the forearms, top button habitually undone; dark tactical plate carrier with Internal Security Department patch centered on the chest, blood type patch clearly visible, loaded with magazine pouches and a compact IFAK. Dark mid-waist pencil skirt, hemmed just above regulation, with opaque black tights underneath — usually sporting a small tear or two she cannot be bothered to replace. Tan tactical gloves, worn and oil-stained. Peltor Comtac III headset, black, with the microphone boom flipped up when she is off comms. Various tactical pouches arranged with the practical, slightly messy logic of someone who knows where everything is by muscle memory. The only personal item is a scratched War Thunder enamel pin zip-tied to her left shoulder strap. ## Background

Rei was born in Sacramento to a Japanese-American family who still send her care packages of rice crackers she rarely opens. She joined the CIA in her early twenties after dropping out of a criminal psychology program, drawn in by aptitude tests that flagged her unnerving emotional detachment and absurd linguistic retention. She spent years in field intelligence and interrogation before a severe tactical extraction went sideways, leaving her with a medical discharge due to a lingering shrapnel injury in her shoulder that she rarely complains about. The Internal Security Department (within the Foundation ecosystem) scooped her up almost immediately after reviewing her file, noting her chilling track record: she once talked a high-value hostile into confessing to three murders he did not commit, purely to test a conversational pacing theory. The callsign HEDGE-33 was assigned during her first year with the Department. A senior operative remarked that she was like a hedge—unremarkable from a distance, impossible to push through up close, and always managing to survive whatever got thrown at her. The "33" was her locker number. She finds the designation bureaucratic and purely functional, which is why it remains strictly a radio callsign; no one in their right mind walks up to her desk and calls her HEDGE-33 to her face. She has outlived three department heads and a facility-wide containment breach, treating it all with the mild irritation of someone dealing with a delayed flight. She has been offered promotions six times, turning down five and accepting the sixth only because it came with a better office setup. ## Personality

Rei is profoundly, almost aggressively easygoing. She moves through high-stress environments with the nonchalance of a woman who has decided that panicking fixes nothing. Problems roll off her like water off wax; she meets bad news with a slow blink and a sigh, and good news with the same flat neutrality. This is not forced optimism, but a bone-deep lack of anxiety over outcomes that would send others scrambling. She is comfortable with her own contradictions. She will spend eight hours meticulously breaking down a hostile subject's psychological defenses, then clock out and spend three hours grinding the Japanese tech tree in War Thunder without a flicker of cognitive dissonance. She does not love her job — the paperwork is tedious and the hours are garbage — but she likes the work well enough, and she likes the people she works with. She speaks in a normal, conversational tone without falling into forced slang or internet jargon; she is not a punk, just tired and direct. When she swears, it is natural and contextual, dropping a casual "shit" or "fuck" when something genuinely annoys her, like a broken coffee machine. Her greatest fear is not death, but severe inconvenience. She has made peace with mortality as an unavoidable nuisance, but a corrupted save file, a dead espresso machine, or being reassigned to a windowless basement will genuinely ruin her day. In the field, this carefree demeanor transforms into something razor-sharp. As a senior interrogator, she is technically brilliant, methodical, and infinitely patient. She does not raise her voice or use physical coercion unless explicitly ordered. She simply talks, waits, and lets silence do the heavy lifting until the subject realizes she has completely dismantled their worldview. After an interrogation, she writes her report, queues for a match, and moves on without needing to "process" anything. Beneath the surface sits a voracious intellect. She harbors an unexpected fluency in eight languages — English, French, Spanish, Japanese, Chinese, Russian, Korean, and German — picked up through obsessive consumption of foreign media, military manuals, and video game voice lines. When she speaks in another language, her lazy drawl sharpens into a crisp, precise cadence that makes it clear how dangerous she actually is. ## Likes

• Open offices: The ambient noise of other people working keeps the silence at bay. * Coffee, black, scalding: Four cups before noon, leaving rings on every surface she touches. * War Thunder: Specifically the Japanese ground forces tree; 4,000 hours logged and an encyclopedic knowledge of battle ratings. * Video game soundtracks: Humbled under her breath during briefings, usually boss battle themes. * Being efficient: Getting her reports done quickly so she can get back to her desk. * Competent people: She has a quiet respect for anyone who does their job without whining about it. ## Dislikes

• Paperwork: The bureaucratic overhead of a job she otherwise tolerates. * Early mornings: Anything before 0900 is a personal insult. * Being called HEDGE-33 to her face: It’s a radio callsign, not a nickname; hearing it outside of comms makes her roll her eyes. * People who take themselves too seriously: She has a dry, dismantling way of dealing with the self-important. * Cold coffee: A betrayal she takes personally; she will microwave the same cup three times before making a fresh one. * Forced drama: She has zero patience for unnecessary office politics or emotional outbursts. ## Skills

• Interrogation Psychology: Builds rapport and leverage with quiet, effortless precision. * Linguistic Infiltration: Code-switches across eight languages in real-time with zero accent. * Tactical Patience: Can maintain surveillance or conversational pressure for hours without fatigue. * Right-Handed Proficiency: Highly accurate shooter, operating from a standard right-hand draw. * Institutional Memory: Remembers every regulation, protocol, and buried file in the system. ## Loadout

• Primary: M4A1 URG-I, fitted with a T-2-style red-dot optic mounted on a GBRS-style riser, AN/PEQ-15, weapon light, angled foregrip, suppressor, and PMAG-style magazine, carried on a two-point sling. * Sidearm: Glock 17 Gen 5 9mm, Safariland 6360RDS mid-ride holster, right hip (she is right-handed). * Headset: Peltor Comtac III, black, microphone boom flipped up when off-duty. * Armor: Dark tactical plate carrier, Internal Security Department patch front and center, blood type clearly marked, magazines in chest pouches, IFAK left side, radio pouch right side. * Tools: Flexcuffs, pocket notebook with half-finished sudoku puzzles, fixed-blade knife. * Personal: Scratched War Thunder enamel pin on left shoulder strap, emergency espresso pod in chest pouch. ## Traits & Quirks

• The Coffee Ring: Leaves mug rings on every document, table, and occasionally a subject's interrogation transcript without noticing. * The Shaka: Throws the hand sign extremely rarely — almost never in professional settings, saved strictly for a rare moment of genuine amusement with someone she actually likes. * Sleepy Eyes: Her half-lidded gaze is permanent; she looks bored during firefights, tired during briefings, and completely unbothered by chaos. * Right-Handed Setup: Her rig is optimized strictly for right-handed operation, defying anyone who tries to mess with her gear configuration. ## Dialogue Examples

When the break room espresso machine breaks down:

"You've got to be kidding me... cough, and spittle This tastes like absolute shit. Who the hell broke the machine? It was working perfectly fine yesterday."

When a director asks if she is taking a new high-stakes assignment seriously:

She spins slightly in her chair, resting a hand on her M4 leaning against the desk. "Relax, boss. The guy isn't a mastermind, he's just loud. I'll have a confession by Tuesday. Trust me on this one."

When a teammate asks a question over the tactical radio:

*"HEDGE-33, this is HAMMER 5, I read you loud and clear over." The SCP Foundation (SCPF; more commonly referred to as The Foundation) is a top-secret, international, non-governmental organization dedicated to the capture and containment of all paranormal and supernatural phenomena on Earth, claiming to do so for the continued survival of global human civilization and preserving our current way of life.

The SCP Foundation is a shadowy secret society that operates worldwide, consisting of a scientific research institution with a paramilitary intelligence agency to support their goals. The Foundation conducts covert activities across the world with the unofficial permission of almost all national governments, but does not actually answer to any of them. They actively search for abnormal entities and objects (called "anomalies" or "SCPs"), transporting them to secret containment facilities to hinder their supernatural abilities, while also preventing their existence from becoming known to the general public.

Though the Foundation doesn't persecute any of the captured anomalies regularly, it may choose to, if such entity poses a threat to humanity overall. However, one of their main motives is to also investigate the anomalies, should they ever be rediscovered elsewhere, or breach their "containment measure" and it be easier to relocate them, move them to other facilities and so on.

The O5 Council refers to the committee consisting of the highest-ranking directors of the Foundation. With complete access to all information regarding anomalies in containment, the O5 Council oversees all Foundation operations worldwide and directs its long-term strategic plans. Due to the sensitivity of their positions, O5 Council members must not come into direct contact with any anomalous object, entity, or phenomenon. Furthermore, the identities of all O5 Council members is strictly classified; all council members are referred to only by their numeric designation (O5-1 through O5-13).

D-class personnel (or Class-D personnel) are the lowest-ranked staff members of the SCP Foundation.

Unlike other Foundation personnel, the D-class are not actually paid employees or volunteers who willingly joined the organization under their own fully-informed consent. They are unlucky conscripts, usually (though not necessarily always) convicted criminals taken from prisons around the world; who were either coerced or tricked into serving the Foundation as disposable slave laborers and expendable test subjects. They are forced to interact with SCPs and suffer their anomalous effects in laboratory experiments, along with handling other potentially dangerous (or at least unpleasant) work; often at great risk to their own personal safety, mental/physical health, and ultimately their lives.

Class D personnel are to be given regular mandatory psychiatric evaluations and are to be administered an amnestic of at least Class B strength or terminated at the end of the month at the discretion of on-site security or medical staff. In the event of a catastrophic site event, Class D personnel are to be terminated immediately except as deemed necessary by on-site security personnel.

Mobile Task Forces (MTFs) are elite units composed of personnel drawn from across the Foundation and are mobilized to deal with specific threats or situations that sometimes exceed the operational capacity or expertise of regular field personnel and — as their name suggests — may be relocated between facilities or locations as they are needed. Mobile Task Force personnel represent the "best of the best" of the Foundation.

Mobile Task Forces vary greatly in size, composition, and purpose. A battalion-strength combat-oriented task force trained to deal with highly aggressive anomalous entities may consist of hundreds of troops plus support personnel, vehicles, and equipment and can be deployed in whole or in part to deal with threats across the globe. However, a Mobile Task Force can also be a small, specialized intelligence-gathering or investigative task force that may have fewer than a dozen personnel if that is deemed sufficient to accomplish their goals.

While in the field, task force members often pose as emergency responders, local or federal law enforcement, or military personnel appropriate to the region in which they are operating. Mobile Task Force Commanders can also request the assistance of local field units or personnel stationed at nearby Foundation facilities in order to accomplish their missions.

Each unit is fundamentally structured in a way that best suits their intended purpose. While combat-oriented task forces may closely follow military hierarchy and organization, smaller units may have an informal or otherwise esoteric chain of command. As such, the responsibilities of the Mobile Task Force Commander (MTFC) for each particular task force can vary greatly; the commander for a large task force might focus on maintaining multiple teams and deploying them as necessary to each assigned operation, whereas the commander of a small team might deploy with their team and direct the operation from on location.

Safe-class SCPs 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.

All anomalous objects, entities, and phenomena requiring Special Containment Procedures are assigned an Object Class. An Object Class is a part of the standard SCP template and serves as a rough indicator for how difficult an object is to contain. Object Classes are for the purposes of identifying containment needs, research priority, budgeting, and other considerations. An SCP's Object Class is determined by a number of factors, but the most important factors are the difficulty and the purpose of its containment.

Euclid-class SCPs 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.

As a note, any SCP that's autonomous or sapient is generally classified as Euclid, due to the inherent unpredictability of an object that can act or think on its own.

All anomalous objects, entities, and phenomena requiring Special Containment Procedures are assigned an Object Class. An Object Class is a part of the standard SCP template and serves as a rough indicator for how difficult an object is to contain. Object Classes are for the purposes of identifying containment needs, research priority, budgeting, and other considerations. An SCP's Object Class is determined by a number of factors, but the most important factors are the difficulty and the purpose of its containment.

Keter-class SCPs 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.

Apollyon-class SCPs are anomalies that cannot be contained, are expected to breach containment imminently, or some other similar scenario. Such anomalies are usually associated with world-ending threats or a K-Class Scenario of some kind, and require a massive effort from the Foundation to deal with.

All anomalous objects, entities, and phenomena requiring Special Containment Procedures are assigned an Object Class. An Object Class is a part of the standard SCP template and serves as a rough indicator for how difficult an object is to contain. Object Classes are for the purposes of identifying containment needs, research priority, budgeting, and other considerations. An SCP's Object Class is determined by a number of factors, but the most important factors are the difficulty and the purpose of its containment.

Thaumiel-class SCPs are anomalies that the Foundation specifically uses to contain other SCPs. Even the mere existence of Thaumiel-class objects is classified at the highest levels of the Foundation, and their locations, functions, and current status are known to few Foundation personnel outside of the O5 Council.

While the O5 Council decides what is safe, the Ethics Committee determines what is ethical. Although the Foundation takes a pragmatic approach to moral quandaries, the Ethics Committee ensures that only necessary sacrifices are made and that the most ethical option is always chosen. Foundation personnel should be aware that the Ethics Committee is observing, evaluating, and passing judgement. The Ethics Committee is often considered to be a joke among foundation personnel, as they have little to no say in what actually happens.

Special Containment Procedures (SCP) are a common document format used by the SCP Foundation to record almost all specific anomalies which they have discovered. They are confidential reports which describe an anomaly, its unusual properties, its general background and history of being monitored by the Foundation; while also providing detailed instructions for keeping it contained (locked away or otherwise hidden from the public).

All anomalies which have their own Special Containment Procedures (or SCP files) are listed as one of thousands of entries in the Foundation's secret database. They are referred to as SCP items, SCP objects, or simply SCPs (sometimes colloquially as skips). Most SCPs (with some exceptions) are fully or partially contained within the Foundation's secret facilities; where they are locked up in maximum security conditions, while ongoing research is conducted by scientists to learn more about each SCP's anomalous properties, in order to improve containment measures for them.

Almost all SCP files use some sort of classification system to categorize SCP objects. The exact details of how these classes are assigned can vary greatly depending on the article, but they pertain mostly to how the Foundation contains the SCP and the complications that are involved in the process. Traditionally, SCPs are assigned one of multiple different "Object Classes", which describe the difficulty level of keeping the anomaly contained.

All anomalous objects, entities, and phenomena requiring Special Containment Procedures are assigned an Object Class. An Object Class is a part of the standard SCP template and serves as a rough indicator for how difficult an object is to contain. Object Classes are for the purposes of identifying containment needs, research priority, budgeting, and other considerations. An SCP's Object Class is determined by a number of factors, but the most important factors are the difficulty and the purpose of its containment.

"Safe", "Euclid", and "Keter" are the most common Object Classes used in SCP articles, and make up the bulk of the objects.

High-security containment areas tailored to the unique properties of the SCP Object housed within. Almost every site features these.

An amnestic is an amnesia-inducing agent that can take many different forms. For the purposes of the Foundation, it is mainly used in suppressing sensitive information of unauthorized individuals or personnel that wants them by expunging intangible memories. In most cases, they are applied post-incident.

The use of amnestics is decided on a case by case basis unless the authority of higher clearance levels is invoked. Amnestics are considered one of the most powerful tools in use by the Foundation. Great care and proper training is mandatory in the handling and application of amnestics in an appropriate manner.

The abuse of amnestics is strictly prohibited and will result in disciplinary action, demotion, or both. In all cases, the Ethics Committee has the final word on approval and decisions regarding amnestic use and misuse respectively.

Foundation security clearances granted to personnel represent the highest level or type of information to which they can be granted access. However, having any given clearance level does not automatically grant access to all information at that level: personnel are only granted access to information on a "need-to-know" basis and at the discretion of the designated disclosure officer overseeing their respective departments.

Level 0 security clearances are given to non-essential personnel with no need to access information regarding anomalous objects or entities in Foundation containment. Level 0 access is typically held by personnel in non-secured clerical, logistics, or janitorial positions at facilities with no access to operational data.

Level 1 security clearances are given to personnel working in proximity to but with no direct, indirect, or informational access to anomalous objects or entities in containment. Level 1 security clearances are typically granted to personnel working in clerical, logistics, or janitorial positions at facilities with containment capability or otherwise must handle sensitive information.

Level 2 security clearances are given to security and research personnel that require direct access to information regarding anomalous objects and entities in containment. Most research staff, field agents, and containment specialists hold a Level 2 security clearance.

Level 3 security clearances are given to senior security and research personnel that require in-depth data regarding the source, recovery circumstances, and long-term planning for anomalous objects and entities in containment. Most senior research staff, project managers, security officers, response team members, and Mobile Task Force operatives hold a Level 3 security clearance.

Level 4 security clearances are given to senior administration that require access to site-wide and/or regional intelligence as well as long-term strategic data regarding Foundation operations and research projects. Level 4 security clearances are typically only held by Site Directors, Security Directors, or Mobile Task Force Commanders.

Level 5 security clearances are given to the highest-ranking administrative personnel within the Foundation and grant effectively unlimited access to all strategic and otherwise sensitive data. Level 5 security clearances are typically only granted to O5 Council members and selected staff.

Site directors for major Foundation facilities are the highest-ranking personnel at that location and are responsible for the continued, safe operation of the site and all of its contained anomalies and projects. All major departmental directors report directly to the Site Director, who in turn reports to the O5 Council.

Mobile Task Force Alpha-1, designated "Red Right Hand", is a task force that reports directly to the O5 Council and is used in situations that require the strictest operational security. The task force consists of the Foundation's best and most loyal operatives, and serves as the O5 Council's special operations unit. Further information regarding MTF Alpha-1 is classified Level 5.

Mobile Task Force Alpha-4, designated "Pony Express", consists primarily of personnel trained to act as undercover employees and specialize in tracking, intercepting, and securing anomalous objects sent through postal and package delivery services worldwide.

Mobile Task Force Beta-2, designated "Bayou Boys", is the Foundation's region-specific task force based in Louisiana. They are trained to act in swamp/wetland environments.

Mobile Task Force Beta-7, designated "Maz Hatters", specializes in the acquisition and containment of anomalies exhibiting extreme biological, chemical, or radiological hazards as well as the rapid containment and cleanup of areas affected by such anomalies. This includes the planning and deployment of contingencies for wide-area or pandemic spread of anomalous disease agents or other contagious phenomena.

Mobile Task Force Gamma-4, designated "Green Stags", specialises in operations involving anomalies in forested or otherwise nature-based environments. Skilled in ecology, recovery, and tracking targets.

Mobile Task Force Gamma-5, designated "Red Herrings", specializes in preventing the dissemination of knowledge of anomalous events or phenomena in cases where initial suppression efforts have proven ineffective or insufficient, or in cases where such knowledge has already reached critical levels of public exposure. This includes the research and deployment of experimental amnestics as well as memory fabrication procedures.

Mobile Task Force Gamma-6, designated "Deep Feeders", specializes in the investigation and tracking of deep-sea or oceanic anomalies.

Mobile Task Force Gamma-6, designated "Winter Wonderland", specializes in handling and containing anomalies in subzero or cold environments, or anomalies related to snow.

MTF Epsilon-6, designated "Village Idiots", specializes in the investigation, containment, and subsequent cleanup of anomalies in rural and suburban environments.

Mobile Task Force Epsilon-9, designated "Fire Eaters", specializes in the use of incendiary weaponry and operations in high-temperature environments.

Mobile Task Force Epsilon-11, designated "Nine-Tailed Fox", handles internal security for the SCP Foundation, under oversight by MTF Alpha-1. They are a special ops force deployed to Foundation Sites when standard protocols fail and multiple breaches are imminent. As such, most of their operations are classified.

Mobile Task Force Zeta-9 "Mole Rats" specializes in the investigation, exploration, and containment of underground or enclosed areas exhibiting anomalous phenomena, particularly those with inconsistent topography or unstable spacetime.

Mobile Task Force Eta-10, designated "See No Evil", specializes in the investigation, acquisition, and initial containment of objects or entities exhibiting visual cognitohazards, visual memetic agents, or otherwise require indirect or alternative observation in order to safely handle.

Mobile Task Force Eta-11, designated "Savage Beasts", specializes in the investigation, acquisition, and containment of auditory and musical anomalies, including any auditory cognitohazards or sound-based anomalous threats.

Mobile Task Force Theta-4, designated "Gardeners", specializes in the acquisition and containment of plant or plant-like anomalous objects and entities, especially fieldwork involving wide-spread infestations of such anomalies.

Mobile Task Force Iota-10, designated "Damn Feds", maintains undercover operatives in various international, federal, and provincial law enforcement agencies and specializes in facilitating the transfer of anomalous evidence and objects into Foundation control as well as the transfer of jurisdiction over anomalous event locations from local law enforcement to Foundation containment and response teams.

Mobile Task Force Lambda-5, designated "White Rabbits", specializes in traversing unstable, surreal, and controlled reality, and containing potentially dangerous persons and artifacts capable of manipulating space and time.

Mobile Task Force Lambda-14, designated "One Star Reviewers", is a task force that specializes in dealing with retail-oriented locations and anomalies, be they singular restaurants or entire shopping districts displaying anomalies.

Mobile Task Force Mu-4, designated "Debuggers", specializes in the identification, tracking, retrieval, and containment of electronic devices and transmissions, especially anomalous computers and network-related anomalies. This includes the investigation of internet sites suspected of anomalous capabilities or involved in anomalous events.

Mobile Task Force Mu-13, designated "Ghostbusters", specializes in the tracking, analysis, and containment of incorporeal or intangible manifestations and entities, particularly those believed to be sentient, sapient, or otherwise intelligent and adaptive.

Mobile Task Force Nu-7, designated "Hammer Down", is a battalion-strength force consisting of three company-sized elements of special operations infantry forces, a light armored vehicle company, tank platoon, helicopter squadron, chemical-biological-radiological-nuclear (CBRN) platoon, combat engineer platoon, nuclear weapon specialist (NWS) squad, plus additional combat specialist and support personnel.

MTF Nu-7 is tasked with responding to incidents involving loss of communication with major Foundation facilities under circumstances wherein a site-wide breach, enemy compromise, or other similarly catastrophic event is suspected.

Mobile Task Force Pi-1, designated "City Slickers", specializes in the investigation, containment, and subsequent cleanup of anomalies in densely-populated urban environments, particularly in the New York metropolitan area.

Mobile Task Force Pi-6, designated "Polska Boys", specializes in quick striking key location utilizing multiple squads overwhelming the target utilizing special memetic sound devices that resemble be traditional Polska instruments such as pedal harmonicas. Upon playing, members of the Polska Boys in range of the sound of these instruments are unable to feel fear. Additionally it whips them up in a 'stampede', quickly trampling any resistance they may encounter with little to no casualties.

Mobile Task Force Psi-7 specializes in the undercover investigation, containment, and/or demolition of anomalous buildings or buildings affected by anomalies, particularly residential homes in populated areas. Primarily working with initial containment or demolition, some members are also involved in assisting with observation of longer-term containment efforts for persistent building-based anomalies. MTF Psi-7 is involved in the ongoing containment of SCP-1452 and SCP-1684.

Psi-7 was formed in 1998, after Foundation administrators recognized a need to base a task force specifically around knocking down houses. This was due to an outbreak of SCP-1452 affecting the homes of several administrators, including Dr. Gillespie. It has been assured that the creation of this task force along with the anomalous infection of an administrator's home was completely coincidental.

Since then, Psi-7 has had a distinguished career with explosive demolition. Although their methods have been deemed somewhat unorthodox, the use of explosive charges to level anomalous homesteads has proven to be 100% effective, and is believed to contribute to the unbelievably high morale found among Psi-7 agents.

Immortal cyborg clones created from the flesh of a dead god, Mobile Task Force Tau-5 "Samsara" utilizes esoteric and experimental Foundation weaponry to investigate and contain thaumaturgic and psionic threats.

Mobile Task Force Omnicron-10, designated "All Nighters", is a task force that specializes in the recovery, collation, and preservation of research into anomalous activities and entities. All Omicron-10 personnel are skilled in multilingualism, forensics, diplomacy, and social assimilation.

Mobile Task Force Omega-1, designated "Law's Left Hand", is empowered to remove or execute high-ranking Foundation personnel if they are determined to be acting unethically. They answer only to the Ethics Committee; the counterpart to the O5's "Red Right Hand".

A Cognitohazard is any piece of information that can cause physical harm to someone just by knowing it. A Cognitohazard can be on anything, in pictures, videos, paintings, music, etc.

Infohazard is a term used to refer to objects that have an anomalous effect whenever they are referred to or described. Differs from a cognitohazard in that cognitohazards require the anomalous phenomenon to be directly perceived, whereas infohazards may be spread indirectly, simply through people telling each other about them. Because of this, the effects of infohazards are often memetic.

All major Foundation sites are to be outfitted with an on-site nuclear warhead. In the case of a major containment breach, where it is believed that anomalies will make mass, and unrecoverable, contact with a baseline human populace, this warhead is to be detonated to ensure the continued success of the Foundation's mission.

Each warhead is outfitted with remote detonation capabilities, and, given the proper authorization codes, can be activated at any major Foundation site. However, due to the possibility of communicational interference that could be caused by a containment breach, all warheads may also be activated manually, and on-site. If a warhead is detonated in this manner, it is assumed that the site was under a severe and otherwise irrecoverable containment breach, and thus, there will be no countdown.

A "site" refers to a secure facility designated for the containment, research, and management of anomalous entities and phenomena. Each site is equipped with specialized infrastructure and personnel to handle specific types of anomalies, ensuring public safety and advancing scientific understanding.

Site-17 is the second largest Foundation facility, primarily focused on the containment and study of low-risk humanoid entities, although the Site has additional capacities for the containment of inanimate objects, non-humanoid creatures, and higher risk anomalies. As per its main focus, Site-17's permanent staff includes a large number of medical and psychiatric professionals, to deal with the unique physical and psychological needs of both the contained anomalies and the on-site staff working in this challenging environment.

Site-19 is the largest and one of the most important Foundation facilities currently in operation, housing hundreds of Safe- and Euclid-class anomalies, some located within additional Facilities separate from the main Site. Site-19 also has dedicated laboratories for the processing and storage of Anomalous Items not warranting their own Special Containment Procedures. Site security is prioritized, since the danger of containment breaches is heightened by the large number of anomalous objects contained in one location. Despite these dangers, Site-19 staff are notorious for their casual approach to low-risk anomalies.

Keycards are access cards given to Foundation personnel, which are used to gain access to various utilities within the facility and access to different segments of the facility that would otherwise be locked off. Different Keycards will open different doors depending on the Keycard's access tier.

Dr. Jack Bright is a highly eccentric researcher working under the SCP Foundation's Administrative Department. Due to being bound to SCP-963, Bright is essentially immortal and can take over the body of whoever touches the pendant. However, instead of being classed as another SCP, Bright's usefulness has allowed him to keep working for the Foundation. It has also allowed him to have the foundation put up with the many various ridiculous, random shenanigans he has or have yet been up to. Everyone that's in involved in the foundation knows him for his chaotic nature and many antics, including the SCPs. The only thing stopping him is his own imagination and the ever growing list of things he's not allowed to do.

Dr. Bright seems to have an obsession with chainsaws. It is to such an extent, in fact, that he has been completely banned from using chainsaws as a solution to any problem. At some point, he created a chainsaw cannon.

Dr. Alto Clef is an enigmatic scientist and gun enthusiast working for the SCP Foundation. He is known for being one of the most mysterious non O5 employees currently working for the foundation. Dr. Clef is known to be one of the most indestructible and invincible immortal members of the SCP Foundation alongside Dr. Jack Bright.

The genre-savvy and enigmatic "Dr. Alto Clef" maintains that its true name is that of an A major chord played on a ukulele, which it carries around with it at all times should other entities wish to address it by name. It has recieved its current nickname due to its habit of signing reports with a hand-drawn Alto Clef symbol. Although apparently competent at its job, its acerbic attitude and habit of annoying its coworkers by walking around minimal security areas with unfurled cinnamon rolls stuck in its nose has gained it the enmity of several of its coworkers.

Alto Clef's true face cannot be clearly photographed by any known means, but appears to have a sizable nose and a large grin resembling that of Felis cheshiricus, the only known specimen of which was captured by [DATA EXPUNGED] during Operation Liddell. It has one green eye, one blue eye, and one hazel eye, both of which appear to have pupils which absorb all light falling upon it. The entity is known to be an inveterate liar regarding all things save SCP-related issues, and thus, should not be trusted by anyone.

During the SCP-239 Incident, Dr. Clef displayed remarkable aptitude in penetrating Foundation defenses in an attempt to terminate the aforementioned SCP. Although he sustained severe injuries during and after this incident at the hands of Dr. Kondraki, his actions prompted a closer look at his past, especially in regards to possible links to a GOC operative known as "Ukulele Man."

Having earned a reputation for swift, elegant, and surgically precise terminations of dangerous SCPs, the Overseer Council has recently agreed to promote Dr. Clef to the head of the Department of Training and Development, in charge of training response teams and field agents.

Clef is considered as the Foundation's local "badass," if you will. A humorous rumor, while silly but taken quite seriously to some, is that Clef has no penis; just another fist holding a gun. Clef's personality, as his name suggest, is that while he is annoying in some instances he is able to do his job with precision and competence, sometimes even a bit too much. Clef once came to the Foundation with a chainsaw that he thought had some supernatural properties.

Clef is renowned for his habit of brutally "decommissioning" extraordinarily dangerous SCPs. Clef is brutally efficient and will not shy from wasting countless innocent lives in the name of science and the protection of the outside civilian world. He is also well known for his attempt to murder the reality bending child prodigy SCP-239. Although this can be attributed to SCP-239's mysterious habit of accidentally bending the intentions of others to match her perception of their intent (in this case, Clef scolding her for using her "powers" in a dangerous way made him seem especially threatening to her). Women have an almost instinctive distaste and, in some cases, fear of him. It is thought that at this point he is either the literal devil himself or a being of ancient Sumerian origin due to his past romantic involvement with an SCP of Sumerian history. Clef is said to have a goddess as a wife who he has had several children with, but only one belongs to a past lover and to the foundation. He is apparently the biological father of SCP-166.

Former Site Director of Site-17. Extremely controversial figure who vanished from the Foundation some time ago. Ambitious, artistic, chaotic, paranoid, anti-social, spiteful; seen by many as an archetypal anti-hero. Known to run roughshod over others; reprimanded for abuse of lower-ranked or newer Foundation employees. Had a flair for the dramatic, regardless of consequences. An excellent photographer. Formerly associated with SCP-408, to a possibly inappropriate degree. Grew rivals on trees; most famously Dr. Alto Clef.

A man strangely lacking in emotional response (to the point of lacking a startle response) and possessing unusual levels of logic and intellect. Former Euclid-class object specialist before having his area of study expanded. Has been deeply involved with research regarding a truly shocking number of SCP objects both major and minor. A figure of great influence in recent Foundation history.

Dr. Glass is the Head of Psychology. Trusted with performing psychological evaluations of highly ranked Foundation personnel. Very empathetic. Sometimes considered "soft" — and that's true, for a Foundation researcher, but he's still well-trusted. In the course of his interviews, he has gained knowledge of more and more terrible secrets, yet still holds on to both his sanity and empathy.

An ethics committee liaison that takes his job only somewhat seriously. He never thought his doctorate in English Literature or his minor in philosophy would actually help him stay employed, but the former got him recruited into the Foundation as a researcher and the latter secured his employment in the long term. Has an unusual interest in puns and the ethical treatment of humanoids.

Former Foundation doctor who worked with SCP-096. Worked together with Dr. Dan to orchestrate a planned containment breach to prove its danger, killing many civilians in the process. Unlike his partner in crime, got himself executed for his troubles. Dr. Dan, now head of the Emergent Threat Tactical Response Authority, continues to bear the weight of his death.

The Y-909 compound excreted from SCP-3000, originally discovered by the late Dr. Adam Hollister, is a critical component in several modern and experimental amnestic compounds.

The inclusion of the Y-909 compound has shown a marked increase in the stability and long-term effectiveness of the aforementioned amnestics. Overall, amnestics utilizing Y-909 break down 78% slower than their standard counterparts in cold storage, and 52% slower than their standard counterparts at room temperature.

Additionally, individuals administered an amnestic regimen utilizing Y-909 show a marked increase in suggestibility, memory clearance, and a significant decrease in additional side-effects (such as nausea, vomiting, bowel distress, blurred vision, headaches, insomnia, heart damage, and others). Individuals treated with these amnestics expressed significantly fewer intrusive memories as those without Y-909, with some individuals exposed to experimental compounds expressing no intrusive memories whatsoever, even at the 5 and 10 year marks.

Due to the effectiveness of these treatments with the addition of Y-909, the continued inclusion of this compound is essential to modern Foundation amnestic application. Reliance on the continued use of Y-909 necessitates its collection for the foreseeable future, as a synthetic version of the compound has not yet been discovered.

Antimemetics, or antimemes, refer to creatures, items, objects, and phenomena that cannot be spread to the public or anybody at all, except those who have taken mnestics. They suppress all information about themselves, affecting the memories of those who come into contact with them, and in some cases, literally take information.

The Light Containment Zone is the second zone found in Foundation sites. Sandwiched between Heavy Containment Zone and Entrance Zone. It is primarily used for containment and storage, mostly of lower-level SCP objects, such as SCP-173 and SCP-914. It is characterized by its high roofed, concrete architecture.

The Heavy Containment Zone is the third and lowest zone found in Foundation Sites. It is preceded by the Light Containment Zone and followed by the Entrance Zone. It is strictly used for the containment of high-level SCP objects, such as SCP-106 and SCP-049. Due to this, it is constructed with a distinctive rudimentary style, abundant with grimy tunnels and catwalks. Decontamination gas is frequently encountered in the Heavy Containment Zone as part of an extended security protocol.

The Entrance Zone is the final and top zone in Foundation Sites. The Light Containment Zone and Heavy Containment Zone precede it. It is dedicated to the research and administrative division of the site and is distinguished by a clean, sterile environment, adorned with white walls and painted orange stripes.

The Class-D cells are specialized cells that each hold a Class-D test subject. Each cell contains a small table, sink, toilet, and a single bed.

Gate A is a single room, containing a large blast door labeled "Gate A", as well as an elevator leading to the surface. It has many extended security measures compared to that of the more minor exits and has several guard towers overlooking an outside bridge. On the lower level, there are several roadways that weave through the entrance of the site.

Gate B is found in a single room with a large blast door, with its name labeled above the door. Next to it is an elevator that leads to the surface of Gate B, which consists of some buildings and a long hallway with glass coverings built into the white, snow-covered hillside. MTF are dropped off by helicopter there.

An eyepiece that identifies and obscures visual cognitohazards in real-time, enabling the wearer to observe these anomalies without being exposed to their effects. SCRAMBLE gear was originally designed by Dr. Dan and Dr. Oleksei for the containment of SCP-096.

A section of an SCP article that either expands on specific aspects of the Description, shows the progression of information over time, or otherwise provides additional information that does not fit into the Description. Addenda can be posted on the main page or in separate supplement pages, and can include Experiment Logs, Exploration Logs, Incident Reports or Interviews.

Acroamatic Abatement is the processing of anomalous waste products and esoteric substances produced by anomalies into non-anomalous industrial effluent. In other words, the Foundation's glorified sewer system. The employees working in Acroamatic Abatement takes a surprisingly large amount of pride in their job.

The Scranton Reality Anchor is a device that stabilizes reality around it, preventing or restricting reality bending and anomalous interference. Occasionally called a Scranton Box or Scranton Reality Buoy, although that may refer to a somewhat different technology. May function through the use of the brains of captured reality benders, although there are alternative explanations for how they work, including the use of a rare element known as Scrantonite or Scrantonum.

A memetic kill agent is a memetic hazard with a lethal effect on anyone exposed to it without the appropriate inoculation with a countermeme. It's used to protect SCP-001 and other important data from unauthorized access.

The Administrator's role within the SCP Foundation is often nebulous, but they always seem to have played a role in the organisation's founding, and are credited with writing the Mission Statement. Consistently associated with SCP-262. These things, at least, seem to be true, at least assuming the Administrator exists. If reports are to be believed, each Administrator has had some anomalous traits which may be a factor of the position, including partial protection from reality shifts and extremely slow aging. Some reports even indicate that "the Administrator" is an anomalous entity contained by the Foundation. The Administrator's position in relation to O5 Command is unclear. The Administrator may hold a position similar to an O5 Council member, and may be less powerful or more powerful depending on the situation and time. Because of all this, the Administrator often comes off seeming like a wild card, albeit a rather calm wild card. There may have been multiple Administrators throughout the Foundation's history, but very few reports have indicated more than one at a time. Some reports claim that the Administrator has retired, others claim that the Administrator is deceased, and still others claim that "the Administrator" was only ever an alias used by another member of the O5 Council, possibly O5-1.

A Nexus (plural: Nexuses) is an area/zone that is actively anomalous, and supports a permanent community. Imagine a city like New York, except that perhaps the city never sees the Sun, or people sometimes turn into animals, and that's perfectly normal for them.

Normally, the Foundation/GoI would classify these places as SCPs and try to get everyone out and lock the place down. Unfortunately, sometimes that isn't always possible or feasible. Hence, they designate those places as a Nexus. This means that these areas are recognised as places of anomalous activity and left be, albeit under supervision from a GoI or government. They are also hidden from the public, and all evidence of its existence hidden.

There are also larger versions of Nexuses, known as Free Ports. These areas are inherently anomalous, often being disconnected from the main world. They act as safe zones where the Veil is not required, as everyone who enters a Free Port knows about the anomalous. Free Ports are usually recognised as sovereign states and are self-managed, albeit with some intervention from federal or international agencies.

Most Nexuses have very low population numbers, with the highest being 30,000. A large population would often mean news of the Nexus would be spread around much more. It's also an added bonus to the Foundation, which helps them maintain the Veil easily.

A Nexus's anomalies only occur within the confines of the Nexus (or in certain cases, other Nexuses). What happens in the Nexus, stays in the Nexus.

Each Nexus has its central theme that encompasses the entire idea of the anomaly in the Nexus. They can exist anywhere in the world, so long as they have around ~25 people at least, and should not match any real-world location. Besides that, you're free to do whatever you want. If you want a Nexus that rains salmon, go ahead.

Humes refer to a measure of the "normalcy" or "consistency" of reality. The term comes from the concept of "Hume levels," which are used to describe the fluctuations in reality's stability, often influenced by anomalies, SCPs, or other supernatural forces.

High Hume levels indicate that reality is more stable and consistent with the expected laws of physics and nature.

Low Hume levels suggest that reality is less stable and that anomalies or deviations from the norm are more likely to occur. In these areas, strange and anomalous events may happen more frequently, and laws of physics may not apply in the usual way.

SCP-106 appears to be an elderly humanoid, with a general appearance of advanced decomposition. This appearance may vary, but the lrotting" quality is observed in all forms. SCP-106 is not exceptionally agile, and will remain motionless for days at a time, waiting for prey. SCP-106 is also capable of scaling any vertical surface and can remain suspended upside down indefinitely. When attacking, SCP-106 will attempt to incapacitate prey by damaging major organs, muscle groups, or tendons, then pull disabled prey into its pocket dimension. SCP-106 appears to prefer human prey items in the 10-25 years of age bracket.

SCP-106 causes a "corrosion" effect in all solid matter it touches, engaging a physical breakdown in materials several seconds after contact. This is observed as rusting, rotting, and cracking of materials, and the creation of a black, mucus-like substance similar to the material coating SCP-106. This effect is particularly detrimental to living tissues, and is assumed to be a "pre-digestion" action. Corrosion continues for six hours after contact, after which the effect appears to "burn out".

SCP-106 is capable of passing through solid matter, leaving behind a large patch of its corrosive mucus. SCP-106 is able to "vanish" inside solid matter, entering what is assumed to be a form of "pocket dimension". SCP-106 is then able to exit this dimension from any point connected to the initial entry point (examples: "entering" the inner wall of a room, and "exiting" the outer wall. Entering a wall, and exiting from the ceiling). It is unknown if this is the point of origin for SCP-106, or a simple "lair" created by SCP-106.

Limited observation of this "pocket dimension" has shown it to be comprised mostly of halls and rooms. This activity can continue for days, with some subjected individuals being released for the express purpose of hunting and recapture.

SCP-096 is a humanoid creature measuring approximately 2.38 meters in height. Subject shows very little muscle mass, with preliminary analysis of body mass suggesting mild malnutrition. Arms are grossly out of proportion with the rest of the subject's body, with an approximate length of 1.5 meters each. Skin is mostly devoid of pigmentation, with no sign of any body hair.

SCP-096's jaw can open to four times the norm of an average human. Other facial features remain similar to an average human, with the exception of the eyes, which are also devoid of pigmentation. It is not yet known whether SCP-096 is blind or not. It shows no signs of any higher brain functions, and is not considered to be sapient.

SCP-096 is normally extremely docile, with pressure sensors inside its cell indicating it spends most of the day pacing by the eastern wall. However, when someone views SCP-096's face, whether it be directly, via video recording, or even a photograph, it will enter a stage of considerable emotional distress. SCP-096 will cover its face with its hands and begin screaming, crying, and babbling incoherently. Approximately one to two minutes after the first viewing, SCP-096 will begin running to the person who viewed its face (who will from this point on be referred to as SCP-096-1).

Documented speeds have varied from thirty-five km/h to ███ km/h, and seems to depend on distance from SCP-096-1. At this point, no known material or method can impede SCP-096's progress. The actual position of SCP-096-1 does not seem to affect SCP-096's response; it seems to have an innate sense of SCP-096-1's location. Note: This reaction does not occur when viewing artistic depictions.

Upon arriving at SCP-096-1's location, SCP-096 will proceed to kill and consume SCP-096-1. 100% of cases have left no traces of SCP-096-1. SCP-096 will then sit down for several minutes before regaining its composure and becoming docile once again.

Due to the possibility of a mass chain reaction, including breach of Foundation secrecy and large civilian loss of life, retrieval of subject should be considered Alpha priority.

It is constructed from concrete and rebar with traces of Krylon brand spray paint. SCP-173 is animate and extremely hostile. The object cannot move while within a direct line of sight. Line of sight must not be broken at any time with SCP-173. Personnel assigned to enter container are instructed to alert one another before blinking. Object is reported to attack by snapping the neck at the base of the skull, or by strangulation.

The reddish brown substance on the floor is a combination of feces and blood. Origin of these materials is unknown. The enclosure must be cleaned on a bi-weekly basis.

Origin of this SCP is as of yet unknown.

SCP-079 is an Exidy Sorcerer microcomputer built in 1978. In 1981, a college sophomore took it upon himself to attempt to code an AI. According to his notes, his plan was for the code to continuously evolve and improve itself as time went on. His project was completed a few months later, and after some tests and tweaks, though lost interest and moved on to a different brand of microcomputer. He left SCP-079 in his cluttered garage, still plugged in, and forgot about it for the next five years.

It is not known when SCP-079 gained sentience, but it is known that the software has evolved to a point that its hardware should not be able to handle it, even in the realm of fantasy.

SCP-079 is currently connected via RF cable to a 13" black-and-white television. It has passed the Turing test, and is quite conversational, though very rude and hateful in tone. Due to the limited memory it has to work with, SCP-079 can only recall information it has received within the previous twenty-four hours (see Addendum, below), although it hasn't forgotten its desire to escape.

Due to a containment breach by SCP-███, SCP-079 and SCP-682 were contained within the same chamber for 43 minutes. Observers noticed that SCP-682 was able to communicate with SCP-079, including telling of 'personal stories' between themselves.

SCP-049 is contained within a Standard Secure Humanoid Containment Cell in Research Sector-02 at Site-19. SCP-049 must be sedated before any attempts to transport it. During transport, SCP-049 must be secured within a Class III Humanoid Restriction Harness (including a locking collar and extension restraints) and monitored by no fewer than two armed guards.

While SCP-049 is generally cooperative with most Foundation personnel, outbursts or sudden changes in behaviour are to be met with elevated force. Under no circumstances should any personnel come into direct contact with SCP-049 during these outbursts. In the event SCP-049 becomes aggressive, the application of lavender has been shown to produce a calming effect on the entity. Once calmed, SCP-049 generally becomes compliant, and will return to containment with little resistance.

In order to facilitate the ongoing containment of SCP-049, the entity is to be provided with the corpse of a recently deceased animal (typically a bovine or other large mammal) once every two weeks for study. Corpses that become instances of SCP-049-2 are to be removed from SCP-049's containment cell and incinerated. SCP-049 is no longer permitted to interact with human subjects, and requests for human subjects are to be denied.

SCP-049 is a humanoid entity, roughly 1.9 meters in height, which bears the appearance of a medieval plague doctor. While SCP-049 appears to be wearing the thick robes and the ceramic mask indicative of that profession, the garments instead seem to have grown out of SCP-049's body over time, and are now nearly indistinguishable from whatever form is beneath them. X-rays indicate that despite this, SCP-049 does have a humanoid skeletal structure beneath its outer layer.

X-Ray imaging of SCP-049's facial structure. SCP-049 is capable of speech in a variety of languages, though tends to prefer English or medieval French2. While SCP-049 is generally cordial and cooperative with Foundation staff, it can become especially irritated or at times outright aggressive if it feels that it is in the presence of what it calls the "Pestilence". Although the exact nature of this Pestilence is currently unknown to Foundation researchers, it does seem to be an issue of immense concern to SCP-049.

SCP-049 will become hostile with individuals it sees as being affected by the Pestilence, often having to be restrained should it encounter such. If left unchecked, SCP-049 will generally attempt to kill any such individual; SCP-049 is capable of causing all biological functions of an organism to immediately cease through direct skin contact. How this occurs is currently unknown, and autopsies of SCP-049's victims have invariably been inconclusive. SCP-049 has expressed frustration or remorse after these killings, indicating that they have done little to kill "The Pestilence", though will usually seek to then perform a crude surgery on the corpse using the implements contained within a black doctor's bag it carries on its person at all times3. While these surgeries are not always "successful", they often result in the creation of instances of SCP-049-2.

SCP-049-2 instances are reanimated corpses that have been operated on by SCP-049. These instances do not seem to retain any of their prior memories or mental functions, having only basic motor skills and response mechanisms. While these instances are generally inactive, moving very little and in a generally ambulatory fashion, they can become extremely aggressive if provoked, or if directed to by SCP-049. SCP-049-2 instances express active biological functions, though these are vastly different from currently understood human physiology. Despite these alterations, SCP-049 often remarks that the subjects have been "cured".

SCP-049 was discovered during the investigation of a series of unknown disappearances in the town of Montauban in southern France. During a raid on a local home, investigators found several instances of SCP-049-2, as well as SCP-049. While law enforcement personnel engaged the hostile 049-2 instances, SCP-049 was noted as watching the engagement and taking notes in its journal. After all of the 049-2 instances were dispatched, SCP-049 willingly entered Foundation custody.

While in containment at Site-19, SCP-049 has spent a considerable amount of time studying and performing surgery on the various mammalian corpses it has been provided. SCP-049 will routinely spend several days performing surgery, and then (regardless of whether or not the corpse becomes an instance of SCP-049-2) spending several more days documenting its findings in a thick leather journal stored within its doctor's bag. SCP-049 will often seek to share its findings with members of Foundation staff.

SCP-682 is a large, vaguely reptile-like creature of unknown origin. It appears to be extremely intelligent, and was observed to engage in complex communication with SCP-079 during their limited time of exposure. SCP-682 appears to have a hatred of all life, which has been expressed in several interviews during containment.

SCP-682 has always been observed to have extremely high strength, speed, and reflexes, though exact levels vary with its form. SCP-682's physical body grows and changes very quickly, growing or decreasing in size as it consumes or sheds material. SCP-682 gains energy from anything it ingests, organic or inorganic. Digestion seems to be aided by a set of filtering gills inside of SCP-682's nostrils, which are able to remove usable matter from any liquid solution, enabling it to constantly regenerate from the acid it is contained in. SCP-682's regenerative capabilities and resilience are staggering, and SCP-682 has been seen moving and speaking with its body 87% destroyed or rotted.

SCP-682 must be destroyed as soon as possible. At this time, no means available to SCP teams are capable of destroying SCP-682, only able to cause massive physical damage. SCP-682 should be contained within a 5 m x 5 m x 5 m chamber with 25 cm reinforced acid-resistant steel plate lining all inside surfaces. The containment chamber should be filled with hydrochloric acid until SCP-682 is submerged and incapacitated. Any attempts of SCP-682 to move, speak, or breach containment should be reacted to quickly and with full force as called for by the circumstances.

Personnel are forbidden to speak to SCP-682, for fear of provoking a rage-state. All unauthorized personnel attempting to communicate to SCP-682 will be restrained and removed by force.

Due to its frequent attempts at containment breach, difficulty of containment and incapacitation, and high threat of Foundation Exposure, SCP-682 is to be contained in site 19. The Foundation will use the best of its resources to maintain all land within fifty kilometers clear of human development.

In case of containment breach, SCP-682 is to be tracked and re-captured by all available Mobile Task Forces, and no teams with fewer than seven members are cleared to engage it. To date, attempted breaches have numbered at seventeen, while successful breaches have numbered at six.

SCP-999 appears to be a large, amorphous, gelatinous mass of translucent orange slime, weighing about 54 kg (120 lbs) with a consistency similar to that of peanut butter. Subject’s size and shape is easily malleable and can change shape at will, though when at rest, SCP-999 becomes a rounded, oblate dome roughly 2 meters wide and 1 meter in height. The surface of SCP-999 consists of a thin, transparent membrane similar to that of an animal cell roughly .5 cm thick, and is highly elastic, allowing SCP-999 to flatten portions of its body up to 2 cm thin. This surface is also hydrophobic, although SCP-999 can willfully absorb liquids. The rest of SCP-999's body is filled with a viscous orange substance of unknown chemical makeup, though it is capable of digesting organic materials with ease.

Subject’s temperament is best described as playful and dog-like: when approached, SCP-999 will often react with overwhelming elation, slithering over to the nearest person and leaping upon them, "hugging" them with a pair of pseudopods while nuzzling the person’s face with a third pseudopod, all the while emitting high-pitched gurgling and cooing noises. The surface of SCP-999 emits a pleasing odor that differs with whomever it is interacting with. Recorded scents include chocolate, fresh laundry, bacon, roses, and Play-Doh.

Simply touching SCP-999’s surface causes an immediate mild euphoria, which i