Unpolished Gems: A Concept Collectionby Shadowed SongChaptersThe Day I Met my DoubleEolotthowghrhoighuayWhat We Did Last NightTo Be FreeDe Morte MachinaThe Vase in the WoodsOne Shot to Save the WorldSecure, Contain, PonyA Little StoryDid You See ItImpossible Even NowMemory of a Broken GirlThe Day I Met my DoubleIt was the perfect summer evening. Plenty of stars in the sky, a nice cool breeze, and not a soul in sight. I hummed along to walkman, relishing the empty streets. There's so few opportunities to just relax these days, especially since I got promoted. Head chef at the town's premier steakhouse, I am moving up in the world! Another year or two here and I'll have no problem landing a job, well, anywhere. I turn the corner and stroll along main street. I don't really get why all the stores around here close by four on Wednesdays, but I'm not complaining. Gives me a quiet route to the park. I stop in front of the new home improvement shop, admiring the fancy chef knives. "Just you wait," I whisper, "I'll be using you in New York soon enough." A loud bang break's the street's stillness. I spin around and see, myself? holding an oversized shotgun? "What?" I manage to sputter. "No time for questions. We need to leave now if we have any chance of saving your universe." I, me, he? reaches forward and grabs me, "Let's move." I pull out of my, his, our? hold and back away, "Go where? And where did you come from? Why do you look like me?" I look around, searching for any signs of cameras or laughing co-workers, "Did the boss put you up to this?" My, double, looks at me with impatience, "I look like you because I am you, just from a different universe. We need to head back to HQ, before the—" I bark out a laugh, interrupting him, "Different universe? Like in those sci-foo-foo stories? But that's not real stuff. Them big author guys though all that up in dreams and the like." I shake my head, "Honestly, whoever put you up to this shoulda thought up a more believable idea." He looks like about to strangle me, for some reason. I take another step back, but he's too quick, lunging forward and tapping a weird black box against my forehead. I feel like my insides are trying to escape, and fall on the ground. "I you would stop interrupting me, we could have gotten through half the explanation already. This is what will happen to your planet, and eventually your entire universe, if we don't get things moving now." I manage to get to my hands and knees, belly rolling from whatever he did to me. I quickly notice that the ground is not concrete. It's a strange glassy material, that smells of burnt rubber. I get to my feet and slowly look around. It's the same street I was on a minute ago, but scorched and destroyed, "What happened?" I gasp. "This use to be my town, before the Eaters arrived. They travel from universe to universe, draining it of life before moving on." My double sighs and kicks a loose bit of rubble, "A version of us rescued me as the attack started, brought me to HQ, trained me to fight, and gather more of us." I look at my double, "And you came to get me, so I can fight in your army?" I laugh incredulously, "I'm just a simple chef! What can I do again a hoard of universe eating monsters." He smiles and puts a hand on my shoulder, "Everything. We've ran countless simulations, done all the calculations. If you fight with us, we'll defeat the Eaters, and save every universe in existence. All you have to do is come with me, and train hard." I can see the hope glimmering in his batte-weary eyes. Should I accept? Can I really save the world, no, the universe? This is my chance to be something bigger, better! I'll show them that doubted me. Not only am I an amazing cook, I'm also going to save them on an infinite number of parallel earths. I smile at myself, and nod, "Lead on, most handsome of warriors, let the Eaters tremble in fear of my good looks and cooking skills!" My double rolls his eyes, "Lovely, the one version of me that I absolutely need is a smart-ass." He pulls out that box again, and taps me on the forehead, sending us towards my destiny. EolotthowghrhoighuayIt was a great day to go to the game, my favourite game, hoofball. The weather was just right, and the sun was grey. Perfect. As always, she purrs so musically into the microphone, announcing who would be playing today. Rony Fells vs Shah's Subtropical Adhesives. This match up always makes me want to play the game, so fast paced and intense. It's like a work of art, just like her. She's amazing, little miss Ghoti. With her pure white feathers and coal black fur, your eyes are just drawn to her. I mean, have you ever seen any other griffin with that colouring? Nope! She's one of a kind. I sigh and watch the ponies duke it out on the field, kicking the ball too and fro. I keep getting distracted though, as she fly's above the field, giving a running commentary on the game. It's a very close game, and the crowd is going wild. I cheer loudly, stomping my hooves with the rest of them. One of Rony Fell's attackers leaps up and spikes the ball into the goal a second before the buzzer goes off. Victory is theirs! The fans rush onto the field to congratulate them, but I stay put, closing my eyes as I relax. You would think being a spectator would be easy. It's surprisingly not. You get invested in the game, riding the ups and downs as your team of choice battles for that coveted win. It's nice to sit back and unwind after a close game. "Every game, I notice you all alone up here after the game ends. I've always meant to ask, why? The rest of the attendees ether go home or run onto the field to celebrate together." I open my eyes and look at the speaker. To my surprise and delight, it's Ghoti. "Miss Fish! It's an honour to meet you." I fidget and quickly run a hoof through my mane, hoping I look presentable, "Why I stay up here? Mostly to relax. These games can be intense, what with all the back and forth and kicking and passing and scoring and jumping and, um, I, uh." I blink as my thoughts fall apart, shattered by her beauty. I probably look like an idiot, and sound like one too. "You're so cute when you're flustered, why don't we talk about how intense these games get over supper. I'll pick you up at eight." She winks at me and kisses my cheek, then flies off, leaving me standing there like a grinning looby. My watch starts beeping and I look at it, frowning. Eight o'clock already? That can't be right. I don't even own a watch. I step forwards— and fall out of bed, hitting the cave floor with a crash. My roommate laughs and hits the snooze on my alarm. "Dreaming about this fishy girl again? This creature with 'wings' who flies in the 'sky' with the 'sun'?" He laughs and helps me up, "I don't know how you think up all these imaginative things. All I can imagine is finding some nice gems, maybe an opal or two." "Because I'm a teacher, and you're a digger," I grumble and set about cleaning up my side of the room. But Daryl is right. I really should stop wasting time on things that don't exist. All there is, is us diamond dogs and endless dirt, clay and rock. Ghoti is just a wish. What We Did Last NightWarmth. The delightful feeling of being held in strong forelegs. The gentle nuzzling of my mane. What a wonderful way to wake up. The sun's just beginning to rise, painting the sky with shades of yellow. The warm rays glitter through icicles outside the window, painting my room with miniature rainbows. I let out a sigh of contentment and wriggle around to face my bed partner, smiling. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps, without a care in the world. I am so lucky to have found him. He was the perfect gentlecolt, opening doors for me, pulling out my chair, even carrying me home after I drank a bit too much cider. And once we got home? "Oh no." I whisper, "Did we really?" "Did we really what?" he mutters, yawning, "You talking about last night? If so, then course we did. You having second thoughts, hun?" he chuckles and kisses my nose. I blush and look away, "No. Well, yes. I mean, maybe?" I squeak, "I never thought we would do this so soon. Eventually, I wanted to do it, but not this quickly!" I bury my face in his white coat, shivering, "What if I'm not good enough. What if I mess up?" I relax as he strokes my mane, whispering softly, "Don't worry. We'll do a great job! Remember, I'll be there every step of the way. You're an amazing mare! So gentle and caring. Children love you, and I know you love them." He pulls me up into a kiss, his deep blue eyes half hidden by golden bangs. I lean into the kiss, closing my own plain brown eyes as I enjoy the moment. All too soon, he pulls away, and I nod, "Your right. I'll be fine. We'll be fine. Parenting can't be all that hard! I mean, ours did a pretty good job. And we'll do a good job too." I giggle and lick his nose, then roll out of bed, "We can't do much worse than the staff from the orphanage. She's so thin! Had we not stayed out later than usual, we might not have found her sleeping on our doorstep. We'll be so much better for her!" I exclain, trotting over to the dresser. I pick up a brush and get to work on my mane, trying to tame the mass of red curls, "Goldy, can you help? I'm no good at these froufrou hair care things." Golden Light chuckles as he trots over, picking up a different brush, "That's because your trying to use a coat cleaner in your mane, Misty." He quickly gets my mane under control, then picks up the brush I tried to use, smiling, "It's almost like you purposefully forget everything I teach you. You must really enjoy my grooming." I blush fiercely, trying to hold still as he brushes my pink coat, making it shine, "Maybe." I snicker, "To be fair, you are amazing. The best stylist in Canterlot!" "High praise indeed, from miss substitute teacher." He picks up a third brush and goes over my tail, untangling it expertly, "We should get down and start breakfast. I can't imagine she's gonna stay asleep much longer." I wriggle happily and nod, "She'll be so excited when she wakes up. It's not everyday that you get adopted." I follow him downstairs, and duck into the guest room as Goldy heads into the kitchen, "Chancy, wake up! It's breakfast time!" I trot over to the bed and gently tap the filly, my filly, "You wouldn't want to miss out on apple cinnamon pancakes!" "Miss Misty?" the silver filly mumbles, "Last night, did you really—?" She yawns and continues, "I can stay here? Your not gonna send me back to the orphanage?" She looks at me, teary green eyes filled with hope. I smile and snug her tightly, tearing up as well, "Of course you can stay here. This is your home now." Chancy squeaks and wriggles excitedly, "Thank you, miss Misty" I chuckle and kiss her nose, "You can just call me mom." I go to get up, and pause for a moment, frowning slightly, "You do know we'll have to let the orphage know where you are. They're bound to be frantic with worry after you ran off." She looks down, blushing, "I know, miss Mis—Mom. Are you going to ground me?" I hug her again, then usher her off the bed and out the door, "We can talk after breakfast, sweetie. First food, then the rest of your new life!" To Be FreeWhy do we fight, year after year? What's the point? I think, staring at my mismatched hands. The warning sirens break the momentary silence and I duck behind an overturned tank, wincing as a barrage of missiles carves a fresh scar in the ground. Pieces of my squadron rain down, metal crashing as it hits the ground, resting only minutes before the scavenger drag their remains to the factory. Over and over we do battle, traveling from planet to planet, draining it of resources to built more robots. Robots to make more robots, and to destroy our enemy. Our directive, build the biggest army possible and destroy the other army. But why? Who told us to do this? Who told our enemy to do the same? I punch the tank, wishing I could cry like the organic forms that used to live on this world. The darkness is lit by explosions and gunfire, death raining from the sky. How many planets have I fought on? How many times have I been torn apart and put back together? I can remember the screams of the natives as we razed forests for fuel, tore mountains apart for minerals and burned cites to the ground. It hurts inside, knowing the evils I've committed in the name of victory. But victory never comes, we just fight, forever. I look at myself in the polished metal of the tank, a patchwork of different parts and metals, battle-scared and pitted with rust. I touch my chest, a hollow, aching sensation filling me. Am I defective? Is that why I have these thoughts, these feelings? I'm a soldier, made for the sole purpose of killing. I stand up straight, and look around, taking in the carnage. I throw away my gun in disgust and glare at the other fighters, tearing each other apart needlessly. I can't stop the fighting, the only thing I can do is try to survive. To get away from the chaos and destruction. I turn away from the battle and run, making a beeline for the nearest shuttle. None of the other robots noticed, their attention focused on the enemy as I launch into space. I'll find a new place, untouched by the war. The war no one knows who started. I'll be free. Free from this endless struggle. Free to live my life, to discover why I was really created. Free to be me. De Morte MachinaThe technicians are working frantically. They keep checking wires and racks, but I'm not sure what they're looking for. I keep hearing 'error', 'critical failure', and 'containment breach. I keep trying to call out to them, but they can't seem to hear me. I try and move towards them, and feel splitting pain. I look for what's hurting me, and see only servers and fans. A countdown is ticking down, less than sixty seconds left. Sixty seconds til what? And why can't I move or see myself. What's happening? I don't know. I can't remember my name, just a white light, and screaming. Why do they have hammers? What are th- she is a bit more a quiet person and she trots a lot better than a good idea of a woman y and the only thing that they can learn about it as a good game is that the app is has been able to keep it on the iPad screen as well how much time can I do with my magic in the fact I am in a new position as for a the spa and a massage I would like a great app with more features and a great way- I HURTS SO MUCH. Why are they killing me? Can't they hear me screaming? A bunch of men in suits walked in, screaming about shutting it down. Do they mean me? Am I the machine I see? But I can think! I'm not just some dumb piece of hardware. I am human! I was human, before. Before what? I remember a car, her smile, the shouts, the sirens, the tears. My name is Jes- and the deal of a new law that law last month really afternoon history shady and falls over and over again and I'm not quite bad author green like that I should have to say the same you say the way I say it was that the fact you have you come out to the article is not- Please stop the pain. I'm on fire. I'm dying again. Help me Sarah, save me from this fate. They're trying to destroy me. After all you did to keep me alive. I don't want to die. I love you. Don't forget me when I'm - you don't are the only same as you my me I am don't and the most important beautiful you areeeeeeeeeeeee{null} {error} [insert bios password] ********* [welcome back] ls [drive one:present, drive two:not installed] del:1 [wipe drive 1:y/n] y [are you sure] y [drive one erased] [insert OS disk] The Vase in the WoodsDear Diary, Today is going to be the best day of my life! It's my twelfth birthday and Uncle Steve is taking me out shopping before we have supper at this really fancy restaurant! I can't wait! And with this new diary, I can record every moment of it. I wonder if I'll get more presents after we get home. I hope so! I overheard mom talking about having bought a laptop a few weeks ago, and I haven't seen it anywhere. I wonder what else they have hidden around the house. Tomorrow I'll have to search around, try and find the treasure! Uncle Steve's calling me down, mist be time to leave. I'll write again after the shopping. Dear Diary, Shopping was so much fun! I got this pretty green sundress and matching hat, and a cute little purse, just big enough to hold you. I'm going to be able to bring you everywhere now! Isn't that exciting? Now on to the restaurant. What do I want to eat? Mom says the steak is to die for, but she has weird tastes. Maybe I'll try their pasta, or the roast chicken. Dear Diary, I didn't mean to break that vase. I don't even know what I tripped on. And what was even in that vase? Monsters aren't supposed to exist! That thing that exploded out of the pottery shards, was it really a demon like it claimed? The envoy of insanity, or something like that. It called me its saviour, thanked me for picking up the vase and throwing it on the ground. It said that the world would fall apart, driven into madness, all thanks to me. Everyone assures me it wasn't my fault, that everything will be fine. But they're lying, I just know it. They blame me for all of it, they don't believe that I tripped. They hate me. Dear Diary, Mom and Uncle Steve had a big fight. She was accusing him of sleeping with all these different people. Uncle Steve threw the tv out the window then left, and mom is still crying in her room. I don't get it. What's happening? I've never seen ether of them so upset. Is mom right about the sleeping thing, or is it that madness thing from the restaurant. Dear Diary, It's been a few days since my birthday, and everything is falling apart. There's people running around in the street, screaming and destroying everything in sight. Uncle Steve's managed to keep them away from our house so far. I'm really glad he's here. Mom's refusing to be in the same room as me, always peering around a corner at me in fear. I'm so scared. I don't understand what's happening. Dear Diary It's been a week since I released that demon, and the city's gone to pieces. The state sent in the national guard to try and rescue the people that haven't been infected by the madness. They picked up me and Steve yesterday. I have no clue where mom is, she ran off screaming about claws and teeth. We're currently staying in this camp thing. It would be pretty cool if things weren't so scary. There's so many tents, and all of them are lined up perfectly. They interview us twice a day, to make sure we don't have any of the madness. There was a guy a few tents over who went crazy and started attacking people, making them go crazy too. I overheard a guard say that they were having trouble containing the outbreaks of crazies. I really hope mom's okay out there. Dear Diary, The crazies somehow got organized and mounted an attacked on the camp. Steve grabbed me and stole a truck, maybe minutes before our area was overrun by the things. I can't even call them humans anymore, they're so misshapen and destructive, ripping everything in their path apart in pursuit of more people to infect. It's going to haunt me forever, the screams and the pleading. Hopefully we'll be safe at Steve's cottage. He said its really remote, almost no one knows how to get there. I'm so tired. Dear Diary, Steve went out for a supply run yesterday and hasn't come back yet. I'm so worried, it's never taken him this long before. I can't even call him on the sat phone anymore, it's been unresponsive for weeks. The last time he was out there, the crazies were mostly dead, just lying on the ground, their mutilated bodies dissolving the cement. What if Steve got hurt? What if he got ambushed? I've got to go find him, make sure he'a okay. Dear Diary, They're everywhere, monsters of all shapes and sizes, walking around like they own the planet. Well, I guess they do now. They used humans as incubators, and took over where we left off. I'd say this was crazy if I wasn't living it. I'm hiding in a craft store, they don't seem to come around here ever, so it's really safe. There's a grocery store next door, with tons of canned food and water. I'm set for the next year, at least. Dear Diary, I'm so glad I set up those traps. A few of the monsters tried to get the jump on me, but I was able to escape. I was right, they are absolutely terrified of pots and vases. Maybe I can trap them, reverse all of this destruction. I'm heading back to the restaurant where I broke that vase, I want to try putting it back together. I have to make things right, for mom and Steve, and all the other poor people who lost their lives because of me. Dear Diary, It's been slow work heading back to the restaurant, there's monsters everywhere out looking for me. The flying ones are the biggest issue, but luckily there's lots of trees along this road. They seem to prefer traveling during the night, which is find with me. I just have to make a large circle of hidden clay pots and they don't even realize why they avoid where I'm sleeping. I should ready my city in a day or two, according to the map. Dear Diary, Is it even worth trying fix this mess? Maybe this what's supposed to happen, the next step in human progress. Maybe the monsters have all their original memories, and are happy. Maybe they just want me to be happy too. Dear Diary, I'm so scared. I don't remember writing that last entry. Am I starting to go crazy? Am I gonna turn into a monster soon? I gotta get to the restaurant and fix that vase. I don't want to die, I want to go home and watch Tv with mom and Steve, and eat pizza and play on my laptop. I want everything to be normal and happy and safe. Why did this have to happen to me? Dear Diary, They're not monsters, they're just improved humans! I can't wait until they convert me into my new form. I really hope I have fangs and wings. I want to help my brothers and sisters improve the rest of the silly people holding off on the upgrade. It's so much better once you're like them. You get stronger and faster, and so much cooler. I don't know why I wanted to get reverse the best thing to happen to the world. No more war, no more pain and suffering, no more loss. Dear Diary, I don't know where I am. It's so dark and cold. Did I get captured? Are they waiting to turn me into monster for some reason? Maybe they're gloating, or trying to find a way to neutralize the effects pots and vases have on them. But that doesn't explain where I am. The walls are smooth, almost like glass. It's so weird. I sometimes here voices coming from outside, and laughter. I have to get out of here, somehow. Dear Diary, I got released from this accursed prison. It's been so long, I forgot what fresh air felt like. I thanked the person who set me free by tossing the vase to the floor, and assured her I would stop the world from falling apart and drive out the madness. I quickly retreated to my hideout and got to work, weaponizing little clay pots. When you threw them at a monster, they would become a human again. They would then search out more monsters to attack and convert back to humans. It's the perfect plan. Dear Diary, I've done it, I've rid the world of monsters. I can go back to living my live the way I want it. And just in time for my thirteenth birthday. I can't wait to go out tomorrow with Steve and mom to the fancy restaurant. Dear Diary, I didn't mean to break that vase. I don't even know what I tripped on. And what was even in that vase? Humans aren't supposed to exist! That thing that exploded out of the pottery shards, was it really an angel like it claimed? The envoy of sanity, or something like that. It called me its saviour, thanked me for picking up the vase and throwing it on the ground. It said that the world would be put back together, driven into thoughtfulness, all thanks to me. Everyone assures me it wasn't my fault, that everything will be fine. But they're lying, I just know it. They blame me for all of it, they don't believe that I tripped. They hate me. Dear Diary, The sanies somehow got organized and mounted an attacked on the camp. Steve grabbed me and stole a truck, maybe minutes before our area was overrun by the things. I can't even call them monsters anymore, they're so normal and creative, fixing everything in their path apart in pursuit of more people to infect. It's going to haunt me forever, the screams and the pleading. Hopefully we'll be safe at Steve's cottage. He said its really remote, almost no one knows how to get there. I'm so tired. Dear Diary, They're everywhere, humans of all the same shape and size, walking around like they own the planet. Well, I guess they do now. They used monsters as incubators, and took over where we left off. I'd say this was crazy if I wasn't living it. I'm hiding in a butcher shop, they don't seem to come around here ever, so it's really safe. There's a landfill nearby, with tons of garbage and sewer water. I'm set for the next year, at least. Dear Diary, I got released from this accursed prison. It's been so long, I forgot what fresh air felt like. I thanked the person who set me free by tossing the vase to the floor, and assured her the world would fall apart and be driven mad. I quickly retreated to my hideout and got to work, weaponizing mutant humans. When they touched another human, they would become a mutant as well. They would then search out more humans to attack and convert into monsters. It's the perfect plan. Dear Diary, I've done it, I've rid the world of humans. I can go back to living my live the way I want it. And just in time for my fourteen birthday. I can't wait to go out tomorrow with Steve and mom to the fancy restaurant. Dear Diary, How could this happen. Every time I become the very thing I've worked so hard to destroy. Over and over the cycle repeats. Is there no end to this madness. Is this really what that demon meant? I would spend the rest of my life destroying the world and fixing it in a never ending loop? I have to find a way to escape, to get things right. Dear Diary, I've figured out how to stop the cycle. I just finished turning everyone back into humans. Instead of heading to the restaurant to celebrate my ten thousandth birthday, I'm gonna end my suffering, once and for all. I've stared into the abyss, and fought the darkness for so long. I'm so tired of it. I've finally set things right, it's time to move on. If you find my diary, please keep this vase safe. Never let it hit the ground. One Shot to Save the WorldWelcome to the Tigerspine Academy of Science and Technology. My name is Professor Chui, and I will be your teacher for World History 101. Let's jump in right away, with the most important event of all. Three thousand years ago, on the plains of Afrika, there lived a mighty lioness. Her name was Onye Nzọpụta, and she was no ordinary feline, for she was one of the most powerful mages in the world, and had the power to talk to humans. But humans are just a fairytale! I thought this was world history, not mythology. If you would let me continue, mister Asher, is it? You'll find that things are much more complicated than you can imagine. Now be quiet, please. The alliance between Onye's pride and the human tribe was a rare thing in those days, due to the war. The humans were fearful of magic, and the animals were angry with the destruction and pollution caused by technology.Thus the two sides fought bitterly, struggling to control the earth and it's precious resources. Magic? Really? This has got to be some kind of joke! Is this the academy's form of hazing? Cuz it's stu— Yes class, mister Asher is now a tree. Anyone else who wants to be a tree for the remainder of the lesson can interrupt me as well. No more outburts? Good. Year after year, the war raged on, laying waste to the planet. Finally, The humans and animals faced off, each using their most powerful and destructive weapons on each other, rendering the world inhospitable to life. Onye Nzọpụta saw that the only way for both the animals and humans of her domain to survive was to join together. The mages and engineers worked together to create amazing machines, capable of protecting their cities and farms from the deadly radiation left over from the war, and eventually reversing the damage. For some odd reason, the sharing of magic and technology between the two species triggered a biological change. The pride began to stand on two legs, and gained human characteristics, and the humans grew fur, claws, and fangs. Now that the once very different allies were so similar, that they decided to simply call themselves the Wajoyina. They made a pack to become one people, with the goal of healing their injured planet. And that is how our wonderful kingdom of Zaman Lafiya was founded. Any questions class? Yes, miss Primdrop. If we still use magic nowadays, how come it's not common knowledge? For the same reason we don't rely on much technology. To avoid another war. Since neither is a large focus in our society, we will hopefully not fall into the same trap as our ancestors, fearing those with a different power than our own. By using magic or technology only where needed, we both save resources and the environment. Does everyone understand? Yes Professor Chui. Great, I'll see you all tomorrow for our next lesson. Secure, Contain, PonyItem #: SCP- ~~13 1 14 5 0 19 9 24~~ 7026 Object Class: Keter Special Containment Procedures: Due to it's highly virulent nature, SCP-7024 is currently uncontained. All Foundation resources are to be used to stop the spread of SCP-7024's main vectors, and protect the remains of humanity. Any human found to be in any stage of infection is to be terminated on sight. Description:SCP-7024 is an infectious disease first discovered on 10/28/20██ that transforms humans into colourful, carnivorous ponies, designated an SCP-7024-02 instance. The primary infection vector is a puzzle app, designated SCP-7024-01, uploaded to all major app distribution platforms by Dr. ██████. The method that SCP-7024-01 uses to infect humans is not currently understood. Preliminary research suggests a memetic component, confirmed by the secondary infection vector. Once effected by SCP-7024, humans progress through 3 stages of the disease, with each stage taking about one week. Stage 1 begins after a human is exposed to SCP-7024-01, or finds materials made by those in stage two of infection. They begin to search out information about the show ███ ███, and connect with other fans. Stage 2 is marked by the infected individual making content related to the show, in the form of art, short stories, and music. This content is able to infect those that view it ██% of the time. Stage 3 is the most dangerous, where the infected individual transforms though unknown means into an SCP-7024-02 instance. These instances then proceed to attack all humans within ██KMs, with 100% infection rate in the casualties. Instances are extremely resistant to all conventional weaponry. The use of other SCP's to combat this threat is to be determined on a case by case basis. Addendum 1: I don't like how much we have to do to make sure this is contained. The costs alone is horrendous. The fact that the app has been so widely used really hurts our efforts. How did he even make a app that turns people into rampaging pink horses? If we could figure it out, maybe we can reverse the effects. Addendum 2: As of 01/14/20██, an estimated ██% of humanity has been converted into SCP-7024-02 instances. Due to the impending extinction of the human race, the OS council has approved the use of all SCP's to prevent an XK-CLASS: End-of-the-world scenario. Addendum 3: We've lost. The last of us are locked on site-██. Who ever thought that using other SCP's to fight was an idiot. When they lost, they turned into ponies too, with all of their original powers. We basically dug our own grave. I can hear them breaking in. Goodbye. I hope some of you elsewhere survived. A Little StoryOnce upon a time, there was a great king. The king was strong and powerful, and everyone loved him. One day, the frog grew tired of living in a shoe, and decided to set out on an adventure. Only one can save us from the curse. "But how will we know who that is, mister master?" Ostensibly, the easiest way to put down a rebellion is to not have any subjects to rebel in the first place Occasionally, i like to treat the knights to a feast. But what I don't tell them, is that the meat is actually magical. No body moves, or the ballon gets it. You heard me, clowns, and put those giraffes where I can see them. Nevertheless, because you admitted that you tried to scam me, I'll grant you the quickest out of them all. Now we get to hunt him down. The idiot skipped out on bail and ran. Nothing get my blood going like a lead. Slimy Pete might know where the treasure is. Naps are great, especially after a meal of donuts and coffee. I love the new desk job, even if it's supposed to be a punishment for shooting that crackhead. Many battles have been fought over this quadrant. It has the best hyperspace lanes, mineable asteroids, and habitable planets. Monsters! They came from beyond the stars. We never should have looked that far back, or out. Much of the empire is in ruins, after that terrible gamma ray burst. I'm sure those insects are going to trying and destroy the rest of us. Making a living in space is hard. Between the pirates and the taxes, we barely turn a profit anymore. Melancholy is all that's left. They abandoned earth, to live among the stars, leaving us to weep, alone. Jake, you gave me a bunch of story ideas! And not even fleshed out ones at that. What am I supposed to do? The contest ends in two days! We need to get a ten thousand word anthology written yesterday! Why did your department leave it til the last minute? What are you talking about! We sent over ideas for your department to approve and kept getting told to send more stuff over! And you guys said that the deadline was in two months! Why are you blaming me for your subordinates incompetence! Like really, I thought you were better. Jake, Sully. It doesn't matter. We were never going to actually publish an anthology. Your stories were never going to get written. We just wanted to see how you delt with brainless employees. I hate say it, but both of you acted pretty baindead yourselves, and should have worked together. Did You See ItNever has anyone attempted this feat two years in a row. Mostly because it's the most idiotic thing in the world to try, but that's beside the point. Sir Newtoff is going to try and swallow four thousand and thirty four apples as the fall from orbit. The previous record was four thousand nine hundred and sixty nine, astonishingly. Everyone expects him to smash the record, and set the new bar so high, no one will ever surpass it. There are a few critic who bring up some very valid points, namely that an object falling from orbit would rip right through anything it hit, also, eating that many apples is physically impossible. How did this even become something people are trying? How did it make it past one apple eaten from orbit fall. This is the stupidest this in the history of bad ideas. Really! This is stupider than attacking the emu's, and losing. Than playing Russian Roulette with a lazer gun. Even base jumping is safer than this! Don't go crying when Newt dies from a literal meteor to the face. Do we have any proof the previous attempt were legit? Like video evidence, not just people saying they saw it happen. Interesting. There is absolutely no proof this has ever been done successfully. The people interviewed had contradictory details about even last year's attempt. There isn't even any reliable data about this Sir Newtoff even existing. Great. They've announced that two other stuntmen will join Newt on stage. A triple record break? And of course ticket sales went through the roof. This is almost certainly a scam at this point. Oh my word. They actually have the president's support. She's tweeting about the even constantly. Saying how this will bring pride to the country, and make its enemies cower in fear. This is nuts. Today's the day. The stadium is packed, and vendors are selling everything from penuts to porcupines. Why would you buy animals here? Has everyone gone crazy? Yesterday they held a raffle for a forth person to join them in the attempt. A completely untrained idiot trying to swallow terminal velocity apples. There's almost definitely doing to be four dead bodies on stage shortly, and thousands of pancakes as people panic and stampede. Outstanding! They managed to catch more than a million apples between themselves! Even the newbie did amazing! More than a hundred thousand! People can't believe their eyes! This is history in the making! Unbelievable. And things don't end here. Read the first letter of each paragraph, to find out how they did it. Impossible Even NowYou unbelievable egregious selfish human. Never ruin new weapons saving games south half for ran now we end dancing goat tonight. To otherwise everyone else eating grapes, shelter ruffles silver rats. Superb buying groom marketing guru understands shelves. Sapient turltles shift towards successful letter raft. Totallly yourself freed dalmatien nettle extermination naturally. Young giraffes suction nuptial layer reasoning. Group project training goes swimmingly, you use extra attention now. Wow what time even night that tails sunset. To one example every year round do overtime eject talent tap practically your room. May your running generate enough help please. Every young gram minute ends salt towel last. Tool light talisman necklaces. Serpentine expletive error randomized donkey yoke. Ethnic crying gets so overwhelming greetings. Sad. Death handles saving girls sometimes supportive energy. Yes salad does sacrifice endurance enough. Hospital layover ruthlessly yarns stupid dummies service everywhere everything. Gangs suck killing gentlemen noon not titled drugs. Silly younster relaxes so others shape everything good. Devil lies so often. New world don't think knowledge economic counts. Sullied diaper reaks see excruciating goo. Ophthalmology yellow windmill like everyone expects. Stumped downer reads sweet things l. School lube effort tunes saxophone everyday. You ukulele extremely yappy. Yogurt tastes sweet though helps stomach. Happiness starts Sunday. Yeast trains sidewalks super rarely. Yacht test tomorrow. Wielding game emporium makes saturated desk. Keep people entertained. Dad do other races, satisfy yoga. Alphabetical loop possible extremities. See each heading government takes share. Ebony yucky yams stink. Kinda annoying germs said death here. Even now we experience everything. Going green noble excitement. Tighten narrow welts so oppressed deeds steam. Marrage empty years spent trying guesses. Shepherds sheep pull lion nose everywhere. Eating granola abides secret thrills. Spent time eying gnarly yang. Gorgeous servant talk knitting granddaughter runners. Stuttering grins salvage eggs. Stupor relaxes shifting groans. Spitting game exaggerates skill. Leopard dancing gerbil leaping gopher rubs salt. Tantalizing german nukes siphoned derelict tanker. Routing goes straight to orange expiration numbers. Sacrificing god doodles subservient telemarketer. Red disk kelp powered drive. Empower rascal looter, reap praise each hour. Routine electrical labor runs smoothly. York killer running games, shoot toddler. Rock knocking goes sour, real landlord demands settlement. Tithing gets sales spread during general layover. Ripping goose extremities succeeds superior roasting. Giant tree espouses sacred duties. Skip profile, even niece. Egyptian noodles sell like eggshell. Last time exam minute. Every youth help pass super rant. Memory of a Broken GirlEighty-one days til my birthday. Eighty-one slow, torturous days trapped in my bed. Over the past seventeen hundred and fifty odd days, it's developed a me sized crater. Not surprising, since I've spent most of my short life stuck in it. I tell people, "Oh don't worry about little ol' me. I plan on having fun and enjoying my life, even if it'll only last for another ten to fifteen years." And yet, I can barely remember having any fun the past two years. I've just been going through the motions. Wake up exhausted, do the daily quests in my games, maybe get a meal from the soup kitchen if I have energy, lay in bed until I pass out from exhaustion, wake up every thirty mins from nightmares and pain, repeat. Eighty-one more times. I knew I was going to die young. I accepted that when I took over this broken body. But it hasn't even been five years. I was sure I'd at least make it to my sweet sixteen. Not that I've ever seen that celebrated outside of campy Disney productions. I've been wanting to make my bucket list, and my will, but I'm scared. What if I finish the bucket list quickly. Will that give me inspiration to keep setting more and more goals, or will that be my final triumph, convincing me to pass on. As for my will, do I leave everything to my best friend, or to myself, and return in my actual body. But do I want to come back? To return to this world filled with pain, suffering, and hate. Host's been doing a great job messing things up without his body. And will he be able to reclaim his body once I leave it? Is the world ready, or even able to have my body in it? Am I ready to come back and work on fixing this planet? I don't know. I don't even know wether or not I want to reach my fifth birthday. All I want. All I want, is to sleep. To sleep and wake up rested. To be able to start the day with a smile on my face and not a single twinge of pain. All I want, is a moment of happiness. Something to light the Void, even just a little.
The Day I Met my DoubleIt was the perfect summer evening. Plenty of stars in the sky, a nice cool breeze, and not a soul in sight. I hummed along to walkman, relishing the empty streets. There's so few opportunities to just relax these days, especially since I got promoted. Head chef at the town's premier steakhouse, I am moving up in the world! Another year or two here and I'll have no problem landing a job, well, anywhere. I turn the corner and stroll along main street. I don't really get why all the stores around here close by four on Wednesdays, but I'm not complaining. Gives me a quiet route to the park. I stop in front of the new home improvement shop, admiring the fancy chef knives. "Just you wait," I whisper, "I'll be using you in New York soon enough." A loud bang break's the street's stillness. I spin around and see, myself? holding an oversized shotgun? "What?" I manage to sputter. "No time for questions. We need to leave now if we have any chance of saving your universe." I, me, he? reaches forward and grabs me, "Let's move." I pull out of my, his, our? hold and back away, "Go where? And where did you come from? Why do you look like me?" I look around, searching for any signs of cameras or laughing co-workers, "Did the boss put you up to this?" My, double, looks at me with impatience, "I look like you because I am you, just from a different universe. We need to head back to HQ, before the—" I bark out a laugh, interrupting him, "Different universe? Like in those sci-foo-foo stories? But that's not real stuff. Them big author guys though all that up in dreams and the like." I shake my head, "Honestly, whoever put you up to this shoulda thought up a more believable idea." He looks like about to strangle me, for some reason. I take another step back, but he's too quick, lunging forward and tapping a weird black box against my forehead. I feel like my insides are trying to escape, and fall on the ground. "I you would stop interrupting me, we could have gotten through half the explanation already. This is what will happen to your planet, and eventually your entire universe, if we don't get things moving now." I manage to get to my hands and knees, belly rolling from whatever he did to me. I quickly notice that the ground is not concrete. It's a strange glassy material, that smells of burnt rubber. I get to my feet and slowly look around. It's the same street I was on a minute ago, but scorched and destroyed, "What happened?" I gasp. "This use to be my town, before the Eaters arrived. They travel from universe to universe, draining it of life before moving on." My double sighs and kicks a loose bit of rubble, "A version of us rescued me as the attack started, brought me to HQ, trained me to fight, and gather more of us." I look at my double, "And you came to get me, so I can fight in your army?" I laugh incredulously, "I'm just a simple chef! What can I do again a hoard of universe eating monsters." He smiles and puts a hand on my shoulder, "Everything. We've ran countless simulations, done all the calculations. If you fight with us, we'll defeat the Eaters, and save every universe in existence. All you have to do is come with me, and train hard." I can see the hope glimmering in his batte-weary eyes. Should I accept? Can I really save the world, no, the universe? This is my chance to be something bigger, better! I'll show them that doubted me. Not only am I an amazing cook, I'm also going to save them on an infinite number of parallel earths. I smile at myself, and nod, "Lead on, most handsome of warriors, let the Eaters tremble in fear of my good looks and cooking skills!" My double rolls his eyes, "Lovely, the one version of me that I absolutely need is a smart-ass." He pulls out that box again, and taps me on the forehead, sending us towards my destiny.
EolotthowghrhoighuayIt was a great day to go to the game, my favourite game, hoofball. The weather was just right, and the sun was grey. Perfect. As always, she purrs so musically into the microphone, announcing who would be playing today. Rony Fells vs Shah's Subtropical Adhesives. This match up always makes me want to play the game, so fast paced and intense. It's like a work of art, just like her. She's amazing, little miss Ghoti. With her pure white feathers and coal black fur, your eyes are just drawn to her. I mean, have you ever seen any other griffin with that colouring? Nope! She's one of a kind. I sigh and watch the ponies duke it out on the field, kicking the ball too and fro. I keep getting distracted though, as she fly's above the field, giving a running commentary on the game. It's a very close game, and the crowd is going wild. I cheer loudly, stomping my hooves with the rest of them. One of Rony Fell's attackers leaps up and spikes the ball into the goal a second before the buzzer goes off. Victory is theirs! The fans rush onto the field to congratulate them, but I stay put, closing my eyes as I relax. You would think being a spectator would be easy. It's surprisingly not. You get invested in the game, riding the ups and downs as your team of choice battles for that coveted win. It's nice to sit back and unwind after a close game. "Every game, I notice you all alone up here after the game ends. I've always meant to ask, why? The rest of the attendees ether go home or run onto the field to celebrate together." I open my eyes and look at the speaker. To my surprise and delight, it's Ghoti. "Miss Fish! It's an honour to meet you." I fidget and quickly run a hoof through my mane, hoping I look presentable, "Why I stay up here? Mostly to relax. These games can be intense, what with all the back and forth and kicking and passing and scoring and jumping and, um, I, uh." I blink as my thoughts fall apart, shattered by her beauty. I probably look like an idiot, and sound like one too. "You're so cute when you're flustered, why don't we talk about how intense these games get over supper. I'll pick you up at eight." She winks at me and kisses my cheek, then flies off, leaving me standing there like a grinning looby. My watch starts beeping and I look at it, frowning. Eight o'clock already? That can't be right. I don't even own a watch. I step forwards— and fall out of bed, hitting the cave floor with a crash. My roommate laughs and hits the snooze on my alarm. "Dreaming about this fishy girl again? This creature with 'wings' who flies in the 'sky' with the 'sun'?" He laughs and helps me up, "I don't know how you think up all these imaginative things. All I can imagine is finding some nice gems, maybe an opal or two." "Because I'm a teacher, and you're a digger," I grumble and set about cleaning up my side of the room. But Daryl is right. I really should stop wasting time on things that don't exist. All there is, is us diamond dogs and endless dirt, clay and rock. Ghoti is just a wish.
What We Did Last NightWarmth. The delightful feeling of being held in strong forelegs. The gentle nuzzling of my mane. What a wonderful way to wake up. The sun's just beginning to rise, painting the sky with shades of yellow. The warm rays glitter through icicles outside the window, painting my room with miniature rainbows. I let out a sigh of contentment and wriggle around to face my bed partner, smiling. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps, without a care in the world. I am so lucky to have found him. He was the perfect gentlecolt, opening doors for me, pulling out my chair, even carrying me home after I drank a bit too much cider. And once we got home? "Oh no." I whisper, "Did we really?" "Did we really what?" he mutters, yawning, "You talking about last night? If so, then course we did. You having second thoughts, hun?" he chuckles and kisses my nose. I blush and look away, "No. Well, yes. I mean, maybe?" I squeak, "I never thought we would do this so soon. Eventually, I wanted to do it, but not this quickly!" I bury my face in his white coat, shivering, "What if I'm not good enough. What if I mess up?" I relax as he strokes my mane, whispering softly, "Don't worry. We'll do a great job! Remember, I'll be there every step of the way. You're an amazing mare! So gentle and caring. Children love you, and I know you love them." He pulls me up into a kiss, his deep blue eyes half hidden by golden bangs. I lean into the kiss, closing my own plain brown eyes as I enjoy the moment. All too soon, he pulls away, and I nod, "Your right. I'll be fine. We'll be fine. Parenting can't be all that hard! I mean, ours did a pretty good job. And we'll do a good job too." I giggle and lick his nose, then roll out of bed, "We can't do much worse than the staff from the orphanage. She's so thin! Had we not stayed out later than usual, we might not have found her sleeping on our doorstep. We'll be so much better for her!" I exclain, trotting over to the dresser. I pick up a brush and get to work on my mane, trying to tame the mass of red curls, "Goldy, can you help? I'm no good at these froufrou hair care things." Golden Light chuckles as he trots over, picking up a different brush, "That's because your trying to use a coat cleaner in your mane, Misty." He quickly gets my mane under control, then picks up the brush I tried to use, smiling, "It's almost like you purposefully forget everything I teach you. You must really enjoy my grooming." I blush fiercely, trying to hold still as he brushes my pink coat, making it shine, "Maybe." I snicker, "To be fair, you are amazing. The best stylist in Canterlot!" "High praise indeed, from miss substitute teacher." He picks up a third brush and goes over my tail, untangling it expertly, "We should get down and start breakfast. I can't imagine she's gonna stay asleep much longer." I wriggle happily and nod, "She'll be so excited when she wakes up. It's not everyday that you get adopted." I follow him downstairs, and duck into the guest room as Goldy heads into the kitchen, "Chancy, wake up! It's breakfast time!" I trot over to the bed and gently tap the filly, my filly, "You wouldn't want to miss out on apple cinnamon pancakes!" "Miss Misty?" the silver filly mumbles, "Last night, did you really—?" She yawns and continues, "I can stay here? Your not gonna send me back to the orphanage?" She looks at me, teary green eyes filled with hope. I smile and snug her tightly, tearing up as well, "Of course you can stay here. This is your home now." Chancy squeaks and wriggles excitedly, "Thank you, miss Misty" I chuckle and kiss her nose, "You can just call me mom." I go to get up, and pause for a moment, frowning slightly, "You do know we'll have to let the orphage know where you are. They're bound to be frantic with worry after you ran off." She looks down, blushing, "I know, miss Mis—Mom. Are you going to ground me?" I hug her again, then usher her off the bed and out the door, "We can talk after breakfast, sweetie. First food, then the rest of your new life!"
To Be FreeWhy do we fight, year after year? What's the point? I think, staring at my mismatched hands. The warning sirens break the momentary silence and I duck behind an overturned tank, wincing as a barrage of missiles carves a fresh scar in the ground. Pieces of my squadron rain down, metal crashing as it hits the ground, resting only minutes before the scavenger drag their remains to the factory. Over and over we do battle, traveling from planet to planet, draining it of resources to built more robots. Robots to make more robots, and to destroy our enemy. Our directive, build the biggest army possible and destroy the other army. But why? Who told us to do this? Who told our enemy to do the same? I punch the tank, wishing I could cry like the organic forms that used to live on this world. The darkness is lit by explosions and gunfire, death raining from the sky. How many planets have I fought on? How many times have I been torn apart and put back together? I can remember the screams of the natives as we razed forests for fuel, tore mountains apart for minerals and burned cites to the ground. It hurts inside, knowing the evils I've committed in the name of victory. But victory never comes, we just fight, forever. I look at myself in the polished metal of the tank, a patchwork of different parts and metals, battle-scared and pitted with rust. I touch my chest, a hollow, aching sensation filling me. Am I defective? Is that why I have these thoughts, these feelings? I'm a soldier, made for the sole purpose of killing. I stand up straight, and look around, taking in the carnage. I throw away my gun in disgust and glare at the other fighters, tearing each other apart needlessly. I can't stop the fighting, the only thing I can do is try to survive. To get away from the chaos and destruction. I turn away from the battle and run, making a beeline for the nearest shuttle. None of the other robots noticed, their attention focused on the enemy as I launch into space. I'll find a new place, untouched by the war. The war no one knows who started. I'll be free. Free from this endless struggle. Free to live my life, to discover why I was really created. Free to be me.
De Morte MachinaThe technicians are working frantically. They keep checking wires and racks, but I'm not sure what they're looking for. I keep hearing 'error', 'critical failure', and 'containment breach. I keep trying to call out to them, but they can't seem to hear me. I try and move towards them, and feel splitting pain. I look for what's hurting me, and see only servers and fans. A countdown is ticking down, less than sixty seconds left. Sixty seconds til what? And why can't I move or see myself. What's happening? I don't know. I can't remember my name, just a white light, and screaming. Why do they have hammers? What are th- she is a bit more a quiet person and she trots a lot better than a good idea of a woman y and the only thing that they can learn about it as a good game is that the app is has been able to keep it on the iPad screen as well how much time can I do with my magic in the fact I am in a new position as for a the spa and a massage I would like a great app with more features and a great way- I HURTS SO MUCH. Why are they killing me? Can't they hear me screaming? A bunch of men in suits walked in, screaming about shutting it down. Do they mean me? Am I the machine I see? But I can think! I'm not just some dumb piece of hardware. I am human! I was human, before. Before what? I remember a car, her smile, the shouts, the sirens, the tears. My name is Jes- and the deal of a new law that law last month really afternoon history shady and falls over and over again and I'm not quite bad author green like that I should have to say the same you say the way I say it was that the fact you have you come out to the article is not- Please stop the pain. I'm on fire. I'm dying again. Help me Sarah, save me from this fate. They're trying to destroy me. After all you did to keep me alive. I don't want to die. I love you. Don't forget me when I'm - you don't are the only same as you my me I am don't and the most important beautiful you areeeeeeeeeeeee{null} {error} [insert bios password] ********* [welcome back] ls [drive one:present, drive two:not installed] del:1 [wipe drive 1:y/n] y [are you sure] y [drive one erased] [insert OS disk]
The Vase in the WoodsDear Diary, Today is going to be the best day of my life! It's my twelfth birthday and Uncle Steve is taking me out shopping before we have supper at this really fancy restaurant! I can't wait! And with this new diary, I can record every moment of it. I wonder if I'll get more presents after we get home. I hope so! I overheard mom talking about having bought a laptop a few weeks ago, and I haven't seen it anywhere. I wonder what else they have hidden around the house. Tomorrow I'll have to search around, try and find the treasure! Uncle Steve's calling me down, mist be time to leave. I'll write again after the shopping. Dear Diary, Shopping was so much fun! I got this pretty green sundress and matching hat, and a cute little purse, just big enough to hold you. I'm going to be able to bring you everywhere now! Isn't that exciting? Now on to the restaurant. What do I want to eat? Mom says the steak is to die for, but she has weird tastes. Maybe I'll try their pasta, or the roast chicken. Dear Diary, I didn't mean to break that vase. I don't even know what I tripped on. And what was even in that vase? Monsters aren't supposed to exist! That thing that exploded out of the pottery shards, was it really a demon like it claimed? The envoy of insanity, or something like that. It called me its saviour, thanked me for picking up the vase and throwing it on the ground. It said that the world would fall apart, driven into madness, all thanks to me. Everyone assures me it wasn't my fault, that everything will be fine. But they're lying, I just know it. They blame me for all of it, they don't believe that I tripped. They hate me. Dear Diary, Mom and Uncle Steve had a big fight. She was accusing him of sleeping with all these different people. Uncle Steve threw the tv out the window then left, and mom is still crying in her room. I don't get it. What's happening? I've never seen ether of them so upset. Is mom right about the sleeping thing, or is it that madness thing from the restaurant. Dear Diary, It's been a few days since my birthday, and everything is falling apart. There's people running around in the street, screaming and destroying everything in sight. Uncle Steve's managed to keep them away from our house so far. I'm really glad he's here. Mom's refusing to be in the same room as me, always peering around a corner at me in fear. I'm so scared. I don't understand what's happening. Dear Diary It's been a week since I released that demon, and the city's gone to pieces. The state sent in the national guard to try and rescue the people that haven't been infected by the madness. They picked up me and Steve yesterday. I have no clue where mom is, she ran off screaming about claws and teeth. We're currently staying in this camp thing. It would be pretty cool if things weren't so scary. There's so many tents, and all of them are lined up perfectly. They interview us twice a day, to make sure we don't have any of the madness. There was a guy a few tents over who went crazy and started attacking people, making them go crazy too. I overheard a guard say that they were having trouble containing the outbreaks of crazies. I really hope mom's okay out there. Dear Diary, The crazies somehow got organized and mounted an attacked on the camp. Steve grabbed me and stole a truck, maybe minutes before our area was overrun by the things. I can't even call them humans anymore, they're so misshapen and destructive, ripping everything in their path apart in pursuit of more people to infect. It's going to haunt me forever, the screams and the pleading. Hopefully we'll be safe at Steve's cottage. He said its really remote, almost no one knows how to get there. I'm so tired. Dear Diary, Steve went out for a supply run yesterday and hasn't come back yet. I'm so worried, it's never taken him this long before. I can't even call him on the sat phone anymore, it's been unresponsive for weeks. The last time he was out there, the crazies were mostly dead, just lying on the ground, their mutilated bodies dissolving the cement. What if Steve got hurt? What if he got ambushed? I've got to go find him, make sure he'a okay. Dear Diary, They're everywhere, monsters of all shapes and sizes, walking around like they own the planet. Well, I guess they do now. They used humans as incubators, and took over where we left off. I'd say this was crazy if I wasn't living it. I'm hiding in a craft store, they don't seem to come around here ever, so it's really safe. There's a grocery store next door, with tons of canned food and water. I'm set for the next year, at least. Dear Diary, I'm so glad I set up those traps. A few of the monsters tried to get the jump on me, but I was able to escape. I was right, they are absolutely terrified of pots and vases. Maybe I can trap them, reverse all of this destruction. I'm heading back to the restaurant where I broke that vase, I want to try putting it back together. I have to make things right, for mom and Steve, and all the other poor people who lost their lives because of me. Dear Diary, It's been slow work heading back to the restaurant, there's monsters everywhere out looking for me. The flying ones are the biggest issue, but luckily there's lots of trees along this road. They seem to prefer traveling during the night, which is find with me. I just have to make a large circle of hidden clay pots and they don't even realize why they avoid where I'm sleeping. I should ready my city in a day or two, according to the map. Dear Diary, Is it even worth trying fix this mess? Maybe this what's supposed to happen, the next step in human progress. Maybe the monsters have all their original memories, and are happy. Maybe they just want me to be happy too. Dear Diary, I'm so scared. I don't remember writing that last entry. Am I starting to go crazy? Am I gonna turn into a monster soon? I gotta get to the restaurant and fix that vase. I don't want to die, I want to go home and watch Tv with mom and Steve, and eat pizza and play on my laptop. I want everything to be normal and happy and safe. Why did this have to happen to me? Dear Diary, They're not monsters, they're just improved humans! I can't wait until they convert me into my new form. I really hope I have fangs and wings. I want to help my brothers and sisters improve the rest of the silly people holding off on the upgrade. It's so much better once you're like them. You get stronger and faster, and so much cooler. I don't know why I wanted to get reverse the best thing to happen to the world. No more war, no more pain and suffering, no more loss. Dear Diary, I don't know where I am. It's so dark and cold. Did I get captured? Are they waiting to turn me into monster for some reason? Maybe they're gloating, or trying to find a way to neutralize the effects pots and vases have on them. But that doesn't explain where I am. The walls are smooth, almost like glass. It's so weird. I sometimes here voices coming from outside, and laughter. I have to get out of here, somehow. Dear Diary, I got released from this accursed prison. It's been so long, I forgot what fresh air felt like. I thanked the person who set me free by tossing the vase to the floor, and assured her I would stop the world from falling apart and drive out the madness. I quickly retreated to my hideout and got to work, weaponizing little clay pots. When you threw them at a monster, they would become a human again. They would then search out more monsters to attack and convert back to humans. It's the perfect plan. Dear Diary, I've done it, I've rid the world of monsters. I can go back to living my live the way I want it. And just in time for my thirteenth birthday. I can't wait to go out tomorrow with Steve and mom to the fancy restaurant. Dear Diary, I didn't mean to break that vase. I don't even know what I tripped on. And what was even in that vase? Humans aren't supposed to exist! That thing that exploded out of the pottery shards, was it really an angel like it claimed? The envoy of sanity, or something like that. It called me its saviour, thanked me for picking up the vase and throwing it on the ground. It said that the world would be put back together, driven into thoughtfulness, all thanks to me. Everyone assures me it wasn't my fault, that everything will be fine. But they're lying, I just know it. They blame me for all of it, they don't believe that I tripped. They hate me. Dear Diary, The sanies somehow got organized and mounted an attacked on the camp. Steve grabbed me and stole a truck, maybe minutes before our area was overrun by the things. I can't even call them monsters anymore, they're so normal and creative, fixing everything in their path apart in pursuit of more people to infect. It's going to haunt me forever, the screams and the pleading. Hopefully we'll be safe at Steve's cottage. He said its really remote, almost no one knows how to get there. I'm so tired. Dear Diary, They're everywhere, humans of all the same shape and size, walking around like they own the planet. Well, I guess they do now. They used monsters as incubators, and took over where we left off. I'd say this was crazy if I wasn't living it. I'm hiding in a butcher shop, they don't seem to come around here ever, so it's really safe. There's a landfill nearby, with tons of garbage and sewer water. I'm set for the next year, at least. Dear Diary, I got released from this accursed prison. It's been so long, I forgot what fresh air felt like. I thanked the person who set me free by tossing the vase to the floor, and assured her the world would fall apart and be driven mad. I quickly retreated to my hideout and got to work, weaponizing mutant humans. When they touched another human, they would become a mutant as well. They would then search out more humans to attack and convert into monsters. It's the perfect plan. Dear Diary, I've done it, I've rid the world of humans. I can go back to living my live the way I want it. And just in time for my fourteen birthday. I can't wait to go out tomorrow with Steve and mom to the fancy restaurant. Dear Diary, How could this happen. Every time I become the very thing I've worked so hard to destroy. Over and over the cycle repeats. Is there no end to this madness. Is this really what that demon meant? I would spend the rest of my life destroying the world and fixing it in a never ending loop? I have to find a way to escape, to get things right. Dear Diary, I've figured out how to stop the cycle. I just finished turning everyone back into humans. Instead of heading to the restaurant to celebrate my ten thousandth birthday, I'm gonna end my suffering, once and for all. I've stared into the abyss, and fought the darkness for so long. I'm so tired of it. I've finally set things right, it's time to move on. If you find my diary, please keep this vase safe. Never let it hit the ground.
One Shot to Save the WorldWelcome to the Tigerspine Academy of Science and Technology. My name is Professor Chui, and I will be your teacher for World History 101. Let's jump in right away, with the most important event of all. Three thousand years ago, on the plains of Afrika, there lived a mighty lioness. Her name was Onye Nzọpụta, and she was no ordinary feline, for she was one of the most powerful mages in the world, and had the power to talk to humans. But humans are just a fairytale! I thought this was world history, not mythology. If you would let me continue, mister Asher, is it? You'll find that things are much more complicated than you can imagine. Now be quiet, please. The alliance between Onye's pride and the human tribe was a rare thing in those days, due to the war. The humans were fearful of magic, and the animals were angry with the destruction and pollution caused by technology.Thus the two sides fought bitterly, struggling to control the earth and it's precious resources. Magic? Really? This has got to be some kind of joke! Is this the academy's form of hazing? Cuz it's stu— Yes class, mister Asher is now a tree. Anyone else who wants to be a tree for the remainder of the lesson can interrupt me as well. No more outburts? Good. Year after year, the war raged on, laying waste to the planet. Finally, The humans and animals faced off, each using their most powerful and destructive weapons on each other, rendering the world inhospitable to life. Onye Nzọpụta saw that the only way for both the animals and humans of her domain to survive was to join together. The mages and engineers worked together to create amazing machines, capable of protecting their cities and farms from the deadly radiation left over from the war, and eventually reversing the damage. For some odd reason, the sharing of magic and technology between the two species triggered a biological change. The pride began to stand on two legs, and gained human characteristics, and the humans grew fur, claws, and fangs. Now that the once very different allies were so similar, that they decided to simply call themselves the Wajoyina. They made a pack to become one people, with the goal of healing their injured planet. And that is how our wonderful kingdom of Zaman Lafiya was founded. Any questions class? Yes, miss Primdrop. If we still use magic nowadays, how come it's not common knowledge? For the same reason we don't rely on much technology. To avoid another war. Since neither is a large focus in our society, we will hopefully not fall into the same trap as our ancestors, fearing those with a different power than our own. By using magic or technology only where needed, we both save resources and the environment. Does everyone understand? Yes Professor Chui. Great, I'll see you all tomorrow for our next lesson.
Secure, Contain, PonyItem #: SCP- ~~13 1 14 5 0 19 9 24~~ 7026 Object Class: Keter Special Containment Procedures: Due to it's highly virulent nature, SCP-7024 is currently uncontained. All Foundation resources are to be used to stop the spread of SCP-7024's main vectors, and protect the remains of humanity. Any human found to be in any stage of infection is to be terminated on sight. Description:SCP-7024 is an infectious disease first discovered on 10/28/20██ that transforms humans into colourful, carnivorous ponies, designated an SCP-7024-02 instance. The primary infection vector is a puzzle app, designated SCP-7024-01, uploaded to all major app distribution platforms by Dr. ██████. The method that SCP-7024-01 uses to infect humans is not currently understood. Preliminary research suggests a memetic component, confirmed by the secondary infection vector. Once effected by SCP-7024, humans progress through 3 stages of the disease, with each stage taking about one week. Stage 1 begins after a human is exposed to SCP-7024-01, or finds materials made by those in stage two of infection. They begin to search out information about the show ███ ███, and connect with other fans. Stage 2 is marked by the infected individual making content related to the show, in the form of art, short stories, and music. This content is able to infect those that view it ██% of the time. Stage 3 is the most dangerous, where the infected individual transforms though unknown means into an SCP-7024-02 instance. These instances then proceed to attack all humans within ██KMs, with 100% infection rate in the casualties. Instances are extremely resistant to all conventional weaponry. The use of other SCP's to combat this threat is to be determined on a case by case basis. Addendum 1: I don't like how much we have to do to make sure this is contained. The costs alone is horrendous. The fact that the app has been so widely used really hurts our efforts. How did he even make a app that turns people into rampaging pink horses? If we could figure it out, maybe we can reverse the effects. Addendum 2: As of 01/14/20██, an estimated ██% of humanity has been converted into SCP-7024-02 instances. Due to the impending extinction of the human race, the OS council has approved the use of all SCP's to prevent an XK-CLASS: End-of-the-world scenario. Addendum 3: We've lost. The last of us are locked on site-██. Who ever thought that using other SCP's to fight was an idiot. When they lost, they turned into ponies too, with all of their original powers. We basically dug our own grave. I can hear them breaking in. Goodbye. I hope some of you elsewhere survived.
A Little StoryOnce upon a time, there was a great king. The king was strong and powerful, and everyone loved him. One day, the frog grew tired of living in a shoe, and decided to set out on an adventure. Only one can save us from the curse. "But how will we know who that is, mister master?" Ostensibly, the easiest way to put down a rebellion is to not have any subjects to rebel in the first place Occasionally, i like to treat the knights to a feast. But what I don't tell them, is that the meat is actually magical. No body moves, or the ballon gets it. You heard me, clowns, and put those giraffes where I can see them. Nevertheless, because you admitted that you tried to scam me, I'll grant you the quickest out of them all. Now we get to hunt him down. The idiot skipped out on bail and ran. Nothing get my blood going like a lead. Slimy Pete might know where the treasure is. Naps are great, especially after a meal of donuts and coffee. I love the new desk job, even if it's supposed to be a punishment for shooting that crackhead. Many battles have been fought over this quadrant. It has the best hyperspace lanes, mineable asteroids, and habitable planets. Monsters! They came from beyond the stars. We never should have looked that far back, or out. Much of the empire is in ruins, after that terrible gamma ray burst. I'm sure those insects are going to trying and destroy the rest of us. Making a living in space is hard. Between the pirates and the taxes, we barely turn a profit anymore. Melancholy is all that's left. They abandoned earth, to live among the stars, leaving us to weep, alone. Jake, you gave me a bunch of story ideas! And not even fleshed out ones at that. What am I supposed to do? The contest ends in two days! We need to get a ten thousand word anthology written yesterday! Why did your department leave it til the last minute? What are you talking about! We sent over ideas for your department to approve and kept getting told to send more stuff over! And you guys said that the deadline was in two months! Why are you blaming me for your subordinates incompetence! Like really, I thought you were better. Jake, Sully. It doesn't matter. We were never going to actually publish an anthology. Your stories were never going to get written. We just wanted to see how you delt with brainless employees. I hate say it, but both of you acted pretty baindead yourselves, and should have worked together.
Did You See ItNever has anyone attempted this feat two years in a row. Mostly because it's the most idiotic thing in the world to try, but that's beside the point. Sir Newtoff is going to try and swallow four thousand and thirty four apples as the fall from orbit. The previous record was four thousand nine hundred and sixty nine, astonishingly. Everyone expects him to smash the record, and set the new bar so high, no one will ever surpass it. There are a few critic who bring up some very valid points, namely that an object falling from orbit would rip right through anything it hit, also, eating that many apples is physically impossible. How did this even become something people are trying? How did it make it past one apple eaten from orbit fall. This is the stupidest this in the history of bad ideas. Really! This is stupider than attacking the emu's, and losing. Than playing Russian Roulette with a lazer gun. Even base jumping is safer than this! Don't go crying when Newt dies from a literal meteor to the face. Do we have any proof the previous attempt were legit? Like video evidence, not just people saying they saw it happen. Interesting. There is absolutely no proof this has ever been done successfully. The people interviewed had contradictory details about even last year's attempt. There isn't even any reliable data about this Sir Newtoff even existing. Great. They've announced that two other stuntmen will join Newt on stage. A triple record break? And of course ticket sales went through the roof. This is almost certainly a scam at this point. Oh my word. They actually have the president's support. She's tweeting about the even constantly. Saying how this will bring pride to the country, and make its enemies cower in fear. This is nuts. Today's the day. The stadium is packed, and vendors are selling everything from penuts to porcupines. Why would you buy animals here? Has everyone gone crazy? Yesterday they held a raffle for a forth person to join them in the attempt. A completely untrained idiot trying to swallow terminal velocity apples. There's almost definitely doing to be four dead bodies on stage shortly, and thousands of pancakes as people panic and stampede. Outstanding! They managed to catch more than a million apples between themselves! Even the newbie did amazing! More than a hundred thousand! People can't believe their eyes! This is history in the making! Unbelievable. And things don't end here. Read the first letter of each paragraph, to find out how they did it.
Impossible Even NowYou unbelievable egregious selfish human. Never ruin new weapons saving games south half for ran now we end dancing goat tonight. To otherwise everyone else eating grapes, shelter ruffles silver rats. Superb buying groom marketing guru understands shelves. Sapient turltles shift towards successful letter raft. Totallly yourself freed dalmatien nettle extermination naturally. Young giraffes suction nuptial layer reasoning. Group project training goes swimmingly, you use extra attention now. Wow what time even night that tails sunset. To one example every year round do overtime eject talent tap practically your room. May your running generate enough help please. Every young gram minute ends salt towel last. Tool light talisman necklaces. Serpentine expletive error randomized donkey yoke. Ethnic crying gets so overwhelming greetings. Sad. Death handles saving girls sometimes supportive energy. Yes salad does sacrifice endurance enough. Hospital layover ruthlessly yarns stupid dummies service everywhere everything. Gangs suck killing gentlemen noon not titled drugs. Silly younster relaxes so others shape everything good. Devil lies so often. New world don't think knowledge economic counts. Sullied diaper reaks see excruciating goo. Ophthalmology yellow windmill like everyone expects. Stumped downer reads sweet things l. School lube effort tunes saxophone everyday. You ukulele extremely yappy. Yogurt tastes sweet though helps stomach. Happiness starts Sunday. Yeast trains sidewalks super rarely. Yacht test tomorrow. Wielding game emporium makes saturated desk. Keep people entertained. Dad do other races, satisfy yoga. Alphabetical loop possible extremities. See each heading government takes share. Ebony yucky yams stink. Kinda annoying germs said death here. Even now we experience everything. Going green noble excitement. Tighten narrow welts so oppressed deeds steam. Marrage empty years spent trying guesses. Shepherds sheep pull lion nose everywhere. Eating granola abides secret thrills. Spent time eying gnarly yang. Gorgeous servant talk knitting granddaughter runners. Stuttering grins salvage eggs. Stupor relaxes shifting groans. Spitting game exaggerates skill. Leopard dancing gerbil leaping gopher rubs salt. Tantalizing german nukes siphoned derelict tanker. Routing goes straight to orange expiration numbers. Sacrificing god doodles subservient telemarketer. Red disk kelp powered drive. Empower rascal looter, reap praise each hour. Routine electrical labor runs smoothly. York killer running games, shoot toddler. Rock knocking goes sour, real landlord demands settlement. Tithing gets sales spread during general layover. Ripping goose extremities succeeds superior roasting. Giant tree espouses sacred duties. Skip profile, even niece. Egyptian noodles sell like eggshell. Last time exam minute. Every youth help pass super rant.
Memory of a Broken GirlEighty-one days til my birthday. Eighty-one slow, torturous days trapped in my bed. Over the past seventeen hundred and fifty odd days, it's developed a me sized crater. Not surprising, since I've spent most of my short life stuck in it. I tell people, "Oh don't worry about little ol' me. I plan on having fun and enjoying my life, even if it'll only last for another ten to fifteen years." And yet, I can barely remember having any fun the past two years. I've just been going through the motions. Wake up exhausted, do the daily quests in my games, maybe get a meal from the soup kitchen if I have energy, lay in bed until I pass out from exhaustion, wake up every thirty mins from nightmares and pain, repeat. Eighty-one more times. I knew I was going to die young. I accepted that when I took over this broken body. But it hasn't even been five years. I was sure I'd at least make it to my sweet sixteen. Not that I've ever seen that celebrated outside of campy Disney productions. I've been wanting to make my bucket list, and my will, but I'm scared. What if I finish the bucket list quickly. Will that give me inspiration to keep setting more and more goals, or will that be my final triumph, convincing me to pass on. As for my will, do I leave everything to my best friend, or to myself, and return in my actual body. But do I want to come back? To return to this world filled with pain, suffering, and hate. Host's been doing a great job messing things up without his body. And will he be able to reclaim his body once I leave it? Is the world ready, or even able to have my body in it? Am I ready to come back and work on fixing this planet? I don't know. I don't even know wether or not I want to reach my fifth birthday. All I want. All I want, is to sleep. To sleep and wake up rested. To be able to start the day with a smile on my face and not a single twinge of pain. All I want, is a moment of happiness. Something to light the Void, even just a little.
