foundationmods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
foundationmods) wrote2018-12-30 09:16 pm
foundationmods) wrote2018-12-30 09:16 pm
FINAL MEMORY
The trip in the back of the transport van is long and grueling, traveling through the Canadian mountains, through densely forested backroads. It would probably be quite idyllic, if you could see anything -- it comes as no surprise that the van you and about fourteen other people are in has no windows in the back. At least it's warm? You're not yet dressed for the cold, though. Finally, after what seems like hours, the van pulls to a stop.
You are led out by some Foundation agents, and you see that there is another van here as well. There's quite a few of you with the "Fictional White Rabbits", it seems -- you count almost thirty people besides yourself. A few large duffel bags are thrown out into the snow, and the same prim, ostentatious scientist from before greets you.
"Hello, my little snowbunnies!" he says, all too cheerfully, "You will find your requested winter wear in these duffel bags -- I've taken the liberty of including some extras just in case something isn't to your tastes. Please get dressed and then we will get moving."
Dr. Granz himself is dressed in, I shit thee not, a women's parka with extravagantly fluffy fur, with matching fur earmuffs and fur-lined boots.
Once everyone is dressed, Dr. Granz checks a small device in his pocket before pointing in a direction. "This way, everyone. From here it's just a short hike to the active area of SCP-6893, known as 'The Resort'. Please follow me closely!"
It seems like you get to enjoy the peaceful wintery landscape after all -- for at least fifteen minutes. The walk is fairly short, as promised. But the weather has grown steadily worse over the past few moments. Finally you reach a clearing, and Szayelaporro stops.
"Here we are. You may have sensed the change in the atmosphere -- we are now within the Resort's 'active zone', where its anomalous properties begin. Before we continue... there is one small thing I forgot to mention."
Despite his ever pleasant smile, the way he says those words makes your blood run cold.
"My superior, Dr. Kurotsuchi, has mandated the use of an experimental 'class-x' amnesiac. Rest assured, your memories will be returned to you at the end of the mission!"
Oh. Well that's not so bad. It wouldn't be the first time you'd had your memories erased, and it probably wouldn't be the last. And hey, this time you're getting them back! That's a rarity for the Foundation.
But then, Szayelaporro removes his sword from from its sheath, hanging from the strangely intestine-like purple rope about his waist. That cold-blood feeling returns with a vengeance as your heart settles into your stomach.
"And I... well..." he grins dangerously, "I will be testing a new method of administration. Sip, Fornicarás."
The pink-garbed man swallows the sword, bright red blood erupting from his mouth and splattering the snow crimson. The blood and the sword turn to bright pink energy, and the man's body swells and bloats to grotesque proportions, like a damn Willy Wonka blueberry. Whatever his parka is made of stretches right along with him. He is surrounded in that same pink light as his body begins to decompress, letting out a haze of sweet-smelling mist. The man lets out a laugh as a long dress-like garment forms over his body, as his hands emerge from his sleeves, as four wing-like tentacles, each bearing several red tear-drop-shaped "fruit", unfurl from his back. He alights gently in the blood-stained snow, practically sparkling with energy after his transformation into his released form.
Yes. You just had to see that with your own eyes. And you will probably be seeing it in your nightmares from now on.
You don't even have time to really come to terms with what the everloving fuck just happened when a whole host of tentacles unfurl from beneath Szayel's "dress". Each of these tentacles is grey, fading to a bright orange at the ends. The tentacles also seem to have some sort of strange papilla on them. Before you can run, the tentacles snap out, faster than your eyes can follow.
They snap out towards the group quite suddenly, and latch onto any patch of bare skin they can reach. Face, hands, you name it. Where they touch you feels unpleasantly warm and somewhat sticky, like the arms of an anemone, but as they bite down and deliver their toxin, there is no pain. Just numbness, not unlike the effects of a sedative. Everything starts to go fuzzy, and sleep suddenly sounds irresistible... His voice barely reaches you as you lose consciousness.
"Sleep well, my rabbits."
...
After you get that memory back, a slew of others follow - and when you wake up on Monday, you will have regained all of your memories of your time before you came to The Resort.
Good Morning, Agents.
You are led out by some Foundation agents, and you see that there is another van here as well. There's quite a few of you with the "Fictional White Rabbits", it seems -- you count almost thirty people besides yourself. A few large duffel bags are thrown out into the snow, and the same prim, ostentatious scientist from before greets you.
"Hello, my little snowbunnies!" he says, all too cheerfully, "You will find your requested winter wear in these duffel bags -- I've taken the liberty of including some extras just in case something isn't to your tastes. Please get dressed and then we will get moving."
Dr. Granz himself is dressed in, I shit thee not, a women's parka with extravagantly fluffy fur, with matching fur earmuffs and fur-lined boots.
Once everyone is dressed, Dr. Granz checks a small device in his pocket before pointing in a direction. "This way, everyone. From here it's just a short hike to the active area of SCP-6893, known as 'The Resort'. Please follow me closely!"
It seems like you get to enjoy the peaceful wintery landscape after all -- for at least fifteen minutes. The walk is fairly short, as promised. But the weather has grown steadily worse over the past few moments. Finally you reach a clearing, and Szayelaporro stops.
"Here we are. You may have sensed the change in the atmosphere -- we are now within the Resort's 'active zone', where its anomalous properties begin. Before we continue... there is one small thing I forgot to mention."
Despite his ever pleasant smile, the way he says those words makes your blood run cold.
"My superior, Dr. Kurotsuchi, has mandated the use of an experimental 'class-x' amnesiac. Rest assured, your memories will be returned to you at the end of the mission!"
Oh. Well that's not so bad. It wouldn't be the first time you'd had your memories erased, and it probably wouldn't be the last. And hey, this time you're getting them back! That's a rarity for the Foundation.
But then, Szayelaporro removes his sword from from its sheath, hanging from the strangely intestine-like purple rope about his waist. That cold-blood feeling returns with a vengeance as your heart settles into your stomach.
"And I... well..." he grins dangerously, "I will be testing a new method of administration. Sip, Fornicarás."
The pink-garbed man swallows the sword, bright red blood erupting from his mouth and splattering the snow crimson. The blood and the sword turn to bright pink energy, and the man's body swells and bloats to grotesque proportions, like a damn Willy Wonka blueberry. Whatever his parka is made of stretches right along with him. He is surrounded in that same pink light as his body begins to decompress, letting out a haze of sweet-smelling mist. The man lets out a laugh as a long dress-like garment forms over his body, as his hands emerge from his sleeves, as four wing-like tentacles, each bearing several red tear-drop-shaped "fruit", unfurl from his back. He alights gently in the blood-stained snow, practically sparkling with energy after his transformation into his released form.
Yes. You just had to see that with your own eyes. And you will probably be seeing it in your nightmares from now on.
You don't even have time to really come to terms with what the everloving fuck just happened when a whole host of tentacles unfurl from beneath Szayel's "dress". Each of these tentacles is grey, fading to a bright orange at the ends. The tentacles also seem to have some sort of strange papilla on them. Before you can run, the tentacles snap out, faster than your eyes can follow.
They snap out towards the group quite suddenly, and latch onto any patch of bare skin they can reach. Face, hands, you name it. Where they touch you feels unpleasantly warm and somewhat sticky, like the arms of an anemone, but as they bite down and deliver their toxin, there is no pain. Just numbness, not unlike the effects of a sedative. Everything starts to go fuzzy, and sleep suddenly sounds irresistible... His voice barely reaches you as you lose consciousness.
"Sleep well, my rabbits."
...
After you get that memory back, a slew of others follow - and when you wake up on Monday, you will have regained all of your memories of your time before you came to The Resort.
Good Morning, Agents.