Our world is organized into a hierarchy of system, subsystems, supersystems. These systems have tendencies. Still things tend to remain still. Moving things tend to remain moving. Rivers tend to flow downstream. Animals tend to keep breathing. A subsystem may have different tendencies than the supersystem in which it is embedded. An animal tends to breathe — its environment does not care one way or the other. Therefore, should it ever fail to maintain that tendency, it will cease to be an animal and instead tend toward decay.
An animal is a complex system containing, among other things, a prediction machine called a 'mind,' which is necessary to intermediate between the animal's internal tendencies — its 'desires' — and the indifferent environment. Ontokinesis is the anomalous ability to bypass intermediation completely and arbitrarily impose a tendency upon one or more external systems.
Let us consider a practical example. You are camping and wish to start a fire in order to cook your food. You might use a non-anomalous tool, such as a match or lighter, or you might generate heat through friction. In either case, knowledge of physical systems is required to produce a result. A thaumaturge might use an incantation or a magic circle to produce a similar result, but still requires knowledge of the principles of thaumaturgy. The actor has a desire and understands how to enact it.
Ontokinesis does not work like this. The ontokineticist, so long as they are generally aware of fire as a phenomenon, can impose a tendency to spontaneously ignite without any awareness of what might cause a thing to burn. There is no 'how' here. The desire for fire itself produces the fire.
Most ontokinetic phenomena are generated by objects or beings which are quite limited in terms of which tendencies can be imposed on which systems, however there are notable exceptions. In particular, classical "type Green" reality benders of class-3 and higher possess the somewhat unique ability to arbitrarily choose which of their desires to impose upon the universe.
There is a very serious inherent downside to this power. As mentioned above, the mind normally serves as an intermediary between desire and external reality. By bypassing this intermediation, ontokinesis is capable of rendering the mind itself vestigial. When ontokinesis becomes a being's main method of interacting with the environment, the boundaries between 'thought' and 'action,' between 'self' and 'other,' begin to blur. The systems which generate 'agency' and 'ego' in a healthy animal will inevitably break down.
During this process, known as 'rampancy,' the mind's capacity for prediction atrophies from disuse and it becomes a unreasoning machine for producing and arbitrarily imposing desires. At the end of this process, the ontokineticist undergoes a final 'rampant ascent,' after which desire becomes fixed with no further chance for production or change. What remains is simply a collection of anomalous physical laws; the calcified remains of a being's mind. This type of entity is sometimes referred to as a 'starfish.'
- Dr. Clarence Dwight, Of Mad Gods and Enchanted Sleep: An Introduction to Modern Ontokinetics
Item#: SCP-9247
Level3
Containment Class:
esoteric
Secondary Class:
thaumiel
Disruption Class:
ekhi
Risk Class:
danger
Context Unknown
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-9247 is assigned to the Applied Ontokinetics Department (AOD) at Site-17 and is under the direct supervision of the Department Head, Dr. Clarence Dwight. She must be kept under the influence of an ontostatic field with strength equivalent to at least five Scranton Reality Anchors at all times except during approved field operations. As the Applied Ontokinetics compound considerably exceeds this threshold, she is to be allowed free reign of the building and grounds except after curfew. The rest of Site-17 is off-limits to SCP-9247 except under exceptional circumstances.
SCP-9247 is to receive counselling sessions with her handler, Dr. Jimmison, on at least a twice-weekly basis, in addition to standard Hypnos conditioning conducted once weekly. Conditioning will be handled personally by Dr. Dwight. All field operations involving SCP-9247 require the express approval of both Dr. Jimmison and Dr. Dwight.
Personnel not accustomed to working with children should undergo orientation prior to engaging with Site-17 Applied Ontokinetics objects.
Description: SCP-9247 is a class-4 ontokineticist named Juniper Castel, the daughter of Timothy Castel and Janine Springer. She is currently 14 years old. SCP-9247 entered Foundation custody after a rampancy event which occurred several months after the emergence of her anomalous capabilities. Her passive influence on the hume field measures in the top 10th percentile among class-4 ontokineticists, making her the third most ontokinetically potent humanoid currently contained by the Foundation.
The products of SCP-9247's ontokinesis characteristically involve hand puppets, shades of orange, pink, purple and blue — but not red or green — and fantastical elements. This tendency can likely be traced to the children's TV program, Funderland Stories, on which the object's father worked as a puppeteer.
ENGAGEMENT REPORT 9247-1
T+00.00: SCP-9247 manifests within the perimeter of the enemy encampment and proceeds forward at a walking pace toward the objective. She appears to be crying. Within the area of engagement, the sky turns purple, grass turns blue, and water turns a pale orange. SCP-9247 begins singing "Happy Birthday" to herself, slowly, although she does not stop crying.
T+00.03: Enemy humanoid combatants attempt to engage with conventional weaponry. However, every conventional weapon within the area of engagement has already been transformed into a colourfully iced pastry of similar shape and size.
T+OO.06: Thaumaturgical defensive system activates, attempting to incinerate SCP-9247 from the inside out. It instead manifests a large number of helium balloons in her general vicinity, which float away harmlessly. Thaumaturgy ceases to function within the area of engagement.
T+00.010: Two third generation Scranton Reality Anchors are activated within close range of SCP-9247. At the same time, three anomalous humanoids, likely of Sarkic origin, charge forward to attack SCP-9247 with bladed claws.
T+00.12: The hostile reality anchors explode in a burst of confetti and streamers.
T+00.15: The anomalous humanoids reach SCP-9247's position, but do not attack. They instead form an orderly line behind her, matching her pace as she walks toward the objective. They join in singing.
T+00.18: Hostiles attempt to broadcast a targeted memetic kill agent over their loudspeaker system. Instead, it plays an accompanying track to "Happy Birthday."
T+00.20: All hostiles cease hostilities and instead join in singing on the final "Happy Birthday to You," which is sung with a greatly reduced tempo. SCP-9247 stops singing, but continues crying.
T+00.22: SCP-9247 reaches the objective, spins around counterclockwise three times, then touches it with one hand. She stops crying.
T+00.25: The song ends. SCP-9247 and the objective demanifest. All anomalous activity in the engagement zone ceases. All hostiles lose consciousness due to symptoms of the cut-strings backlash effect. Follow-up MTF teams are deployed to detain the incapacitated hostiles.
Operation was declared a complete success. SCP-9247 has been approved for further active deployment.
ADDENDUM: ARCHIVED ATTACHMENTS FROM PREVIOUS VERSION OF FILE
Interviewed: SCP-9247 (Juniper Castel), Class-4 Ontokineticist
Interviewer: Dr. Jimmison
Foreword: SCP-9247 meets her personal handler, Dr. Jimmison, for the first time.
SCP-9247 enters the interview chamber and sits down at the table with Dr. Jimmison, who nods in greeting.
Dr. Jimmison: Hello, Juniper. I hope you're settling in well at your new accommodations.
SCP-9247: What, are you not gonna call me by my fancy new number? They say I'm "Keter" class, isn't that cool?
Dr. Jimmison: Yes yes, it's very impressive. But SCP-9247 takes a little too long to say for my liking, so I'd prefer to stick to Juniper if it's all very well.
SCP-9247: Hmmm, well, if you insist, I suppose I'll allow it.
Dr. Jimmison: That's very gracious of you. Now, Juniper, how has your stay at the Foundation treated you thus far?
SCP-9247: Oh, I've been having a lovely time, making all kinds of friends! Kyoko has been showing me around, she's been very nice, and Liam and Sammy visited, and the other kids are … well, they're all right! And Kyoko has been, well…
SCP-9247 remains silent for several seconds.
Dr. Jimmison: About that, Juniper. It's possible you've been going to see Kyoko a little bit too often. She has her own responsibilities, you know.
SCP-9247: Oh. Did she say that?
Dr. Jimmison: She wouldn't say that kind of thing. But I think she really ought to.
SCP-9247: Oh. I'm sorry, I'll try to give her a little more space. I don't know what's gotten into me lately. This isn't like me, you know? I'm usually quite level-headed. Or is that one of the others? It's probably me. Sorry, I'm not quite all of myself at the moment, I think. I'll try not to bother Kyoko so much.
Dr. Jimmison's features rumple slightly in concern. He pauses to write something in his notes.
Dr. Jimmison: Very well then. Now, Juniper, I realize this may be a touchy subject, but we ought to talk a little about the reason you're here. You're a very special girl, you know.
SCP-9247 shakes her head.
SCP-9247: Not anymore. Not for much longer, at least. I'm turning over a new leaf! I've had enough of being special, it sucks actually. That's why I'm here, for a chance to be Juniper-who-isn't-really-that-special for a change.
Dr. Jimmison pauses to review his notes.
Dr. Jimmison: I see. I suppose your experiences with reality bending so far have been quite negative. It says here you've used your abilities a few times since then in controlled experiments, what are your feelings on that?
SCP-9247: I don't like it. Whenever I use them, there's always this pull, like tiny strings tugging on me that want me to go back to how I was before. Rampant, right? It was awful, but there's some tiny part of me that wants to go back, wants that total control. If I'd gone just a little farther, if I hadn't tried to keep being a person …
Dr. Jimmison nods gravely.
SCP-9247: It's not a strong pull. It's not like I really want to do that. And you'd just turn the anchors back on and pull me back anyway, right? Its just this gross idea that won't go away.
Dr. Jimmison: That sounds like what we call an intrusive thought. We could think of something for you to repeat to yourself, whenever you start to feel like that, to remind yourself that that isn't you, like a mantra. Does that sound like it might help?
SCP-9247: I guess it might. I can give it a try. I'm kinda scared that it'll get me anyway, somehow, even if it's not me? Like, most people with intrusive thoughts can't cause things to happen just by thinking about them, right?
Dr. Jimmison: It'll be okay. You have to actively want things, not just think about them, and you can learn to control which things actually happen. The Hypnos treatment you've been getting with Dr. Dwight should already be helping with that.
SCP-9247: Doctor. Is there some way I can not be like this? Just like, get rid of the powers? Or even just some of them? It's not like I want to go back and live a completely normal life, exactly? Just to put more distance between me and the way I was back then, in that castle, surrounded by all those puppets…
SCP-9247 shudders and trails off. Dr. Jimmison shakes his head.
Dr. Jimmison: I'm afraid that's not possible in this case. The Hypnos program can turn lower level reality benders into ontostaticists like Kyoko, but it certainly won't work on a class-4. Ah, that said! It may not be much, but the treatment you're currently receiving should cause at least some reduction in the scale of your abilities.
SCP-9247: I see. That's something, I guess. Thanks anyway.
Dr. Jimmison: I'm sorry, Juniper. I do wish I could do more to help. Is there anything el—
SCP-9247: You know Doctor, this place is just soo boring? I mean there's nothing to do but sit around and watch old cartoons and I can never beat anyone at Mario Kart! I mean there is other stuff I guess but still. It gets pretty dull.
Dr. Jimmison tilts his head in apparent confusion.
Dr. Jimmison: I believe you were just saying earlier, how you were having a lovely time and making friends with everyone?
SCP-9247: Oh, did I? Was that Juniper's line? Was it Jilimee's? Wait, am I Juniper? I am Juniper, aren't I?
Dr. Jimmison: Of course you're Juniper, Juniper. Who else would you be?
SCP-9247: How would you know, Doctor? How would I know? Oh! I'm going to go ask Kyoko. She'll know for sure! I think.
SCP-9247 exits the room. Dr. Jimmison remains, lying limp across the desk, until the footage ends.
Excerpt from Dr. Jimmison's Notes: It has now been four weeks since SCP-9247, hereafter referred to by her given name of Juniper, entered the Foundation's custody. Two weeks since I was assigned as her handler. Her behavior remains somewhat erratic and she continues to suffer from mood swings and memory lapses, although this has been steadily improving.
Her rampant phase featured symptoms of Schizogenerative Identity Syndrome, a condition unique to ontokineticists in which aspects of the host personality are augmented with ontokinetically generated features and expressed as separate identities. These identities are more strongly compartmentalized than those seen in similar non-anomalous conditions, generally possessing knowledge and memory the host lacks and frequently manifesting in a separate, onokinetically generated body.
Two entities observed during the rampancy event, the hand puppets named "Wump" and "Mrs. Jilimee," are believed to have been SgIS alters. Wump was apparently destroyed during the recovery mission, and Mrs. Jilimee was likely reabsorbed into the core identity; I hypothesize that this may have caused the observed destabilization. However, as she has made a marked recovery over the past two weeks, I do not anticipate this instability interfering with the Foundation's long term plans for the subject.
Unrelatedly, minor interpersonal issues have been observed between the Juniper and Operative Kyoko Kawasaki, a member of the extraction team. Juniper has apparently fixated on Operative Kawasaki to the detriment of the latter's work output and general morale. I will attempt to mediate this conflict and provide updates as things develop.
Finally, I'm going to file a recommendation that plans for deployment as a Thaumiel anomaly be suspended for now, at least until Juniper is able to work through some of these complexes around her abilities. Even if the Hypnos treatment prevents outright rampancy, it's clear that a large-scale exercise of ontokinesis would be distressing for her.
Interviewed: Liam Castel
Interviewer: Dr. Jimmison
Foreword: Dr. Jimmison is introduced to SCP-9247's younger brother, who is currently a ward at Site-17's onsite orphanage.
Liam Castel enters the interview chamber and sits down across the table from Dr. Jimmison, who nods in greeting.
Dr. Jimmison: Nice to meet you, Liam. I've heard a lot about you from Juniper.
Castel: Hi. Um, nice to meet you. I hope Juni is doing okay.
Dr. Jimmison: Ah, I suppose she's steadily improving? Didn't you see her this morning?
Castel: I did! But when I visit she's in big sister mode. She doesn't really show me when she feels bad.
Dr. Jimmison: I see. How do you feel about your sister, Liam? I don't think anyone would judge you if you resented her a little.
Liam Castel shakes his head without hesitation.
Castel: Juni just wanted to make things better, and she tried very very hard. I don't think it's her fault it didn't work out. It's kind of sad that Mom and Dad don't remember us anymore, but honestly, um.
Liam Castel pauses for several seconds.
Dr. Jimmison: Hmm?
Castel: This might be bad to say? But I think I like staying at the orphanage here better than staying with Mom and Dad, a little. I really miss them but there's a lot less yelling. And um.
There is another pause, but Liam continues without prompting this time.
Castel: Don't tell Juni this, ok? I love her but its kind of nice to only see her every so often. She can be a little bit bossy sometimes.
Dr. Jimmison: I see. I'm sure she would understand. I think she's just trying to look out for you.
Castel: I know.
Dr. Jimmison: Is there anything else that's been bothering you, lately?
Castel: I've been thinking about Sammy. She left for good just a little while ago. She's going to forget about us, isn't she?
Dr. Jimmison nods.
Dr. Jimmison: Are you going to miss her?
Castel: A little. Mostly I'm worried about Juni. She really liked Sammy, I think. You'll look out for her, right?
Dr. Jimmison: Of course. Just leave it to ol' Jimmison.
Liam Castel smiles. He briefly reaches forward to shake Jimmison's hand as a farewell, but hesitates and ultimately leaves without doing so. Faint sobbing is heard from SCP-9247, who is not present.
Excerpt from Dr. Jimmison's Notes: Pleased to report that as of a month and a half since containment, Juniper's mood swings and memory issues have been almost completely resolved. Interpersonal issues have proven more sticky, as is often the case. I'm afraid Juniper's somewhat overbearing personality, and the unavoidably bad first impression caused by her earlier mood swings and poor memory, have left her somewhat alienated from the other young people in the compound. Her relationship with Operative Kawasaki has in many ways improved, but remains fraught and represents a significant source of stress for both participants.
Dwight reports that the base layer of hypnotic condition is now complete, which should restrict unconscious use of ontokinesis and render future rampancy all but impossible. Despite this, in therapy Juniper consistently expresses fear of both harming others and losing her identity due to her abilities; clearly this is a deep-seated anxiety for her. I must admit, I am having some doubts about her suitability as a Thaumiel class object. Significant progress on this front will need to be made before field deployment can be seriously considered.
Finally, on a personal note, this is perhaps unprofessional but I must confess to having a very peculiar feeling lately. Something odd is happening at Site-17. Rumours among the junior staff and oddities in interview logs aside, Dr. Dwight has been quite unusual. Distracted, and a little on edge around me in particular ever since I was assigned to Juniper. He wasn't like that before, I don't think. Certainly I don't remember any such thing, and I do believe I worked for him before? Although my memory, I must admit, is a tad fuzzy on that point.
Most likely it is simply stress. Juniper represents a very unique and valuable opportunity for the Foundation, he must be under a great deal of pressure from higher-ups to produce results. When I put it that way, I suppose it's only to be expected. I shall take a look at his schedule; perhaps there are a few tasks I could cover to ease the load.
I had best confirm how long I've worked for the man while I'm at it. Oh dear, what an embarrassing lapse.
From:
To:
CC:
Subject:
djimmison@scp.int
jlesterman@scp.int
none
Employee History
I do hope this finds you well. The other day I had the thought to check my personal employee records, just to confirm something, but I'm afraid I couldn't find them anywhere! This is all terribly embarrassing and I'm sure there's something simple I'm doing wrong, but could you lend a hand?
In sincere regret,
Dr. Jimmison
Foundation Researcher
Secure Contain Protect
From:
To:
CC:
Subject:
jlesterman@scp.int
djimmison@scp.int
none
RE: Employee History
Weird, I looked as well and there's actually no trace of your employee history on any server I have access to. Maybe a computer error, or maybe something with a previous anomaly you worked on? Have you been involved with any infovores? Or maybe someone just deleted it by mistake, although I doubt it. Oh, long shot but could try searching your full name, what was your first name again?
Joyce Lesterman
Applied Ontokinetics Technical Support
Secure Contain Protect
Interviewed: Operative Kyoko Kawasaki, Class-3 Ontostaticist
Interviewer: Dr. Jimmison
Foreword: Operative Kawasaki requested advice on ongoing interpersonal issues involving SCP-9247.
Operative Kawasaki enters the interview chamber and sits down across the table from Dr. Jimmison, who nods in greeting.
Kawasaki: Hello, Doctor. A pleasure as always.
Dr. Jimmison: The pleasure is all mine. I hope your work has been treating you well.
Kawasaki: As well as can be expected under the circumstances.
Operative Kawasaki turns to address SCP-9247, who is not present.
Kawasaki: June, I … don't know if this is possible, but I kind of don't want you to hear this. Can you somehow … Oh, I suppose that works?
Operative Kawasaki turns back towards Dr. Jimmison, who appears extremely confused by this aside but does not comment.
Kawasaki: Okay. We can continue.
Dr. Jimmison: Very well then. What is it that's been bothering you?
Kawasaki: It's about Juniper … She won't like, know, if I tell you things, will she? I'm still not sure how it works.
Dr. Jimmison appears agitated and tilts his head back and forth in confusion. His voice, however, remains calm and composed.
Dr. Jimmison: I certainly won't tell her anything you'd prefer to keep confidential, if that's what you mean.
Kawasaki: Something like that. Oh, I know! June, I think your hair looks particularly nice today.
Kawasaki pauses. SCP-9247, who is not present, does not respond.
Kawasaki: Okay good, she probably can't hear me. Sorry for being weird about that. So, I mean, it's actually really nice to have another girl my age around? But June is just a bit clingy. Like at first it wasn't really her fault, I'd do something for her and she'd come back ten minutes later because she literally just forgot? That stuff's mostly better now but I wish she would stop sending me so many messages? I mean, it's not like I've actually asked her to stop. But, what if I asked her and it hurt her feelings and then she stopped talking to me at all? Also, she sometimes turns up behind me and hugs me without warning which is kinda scary, and I just really wish she'd say something to let me know she's there first, but it's … Doctor? Um, are you okay?
Dr. Jimmison, who has been turning his head slowly from side to side as if searching for something, faces Operative Kawasaki and nods.
Dr. Jimmison: Oh, very sorry, I've been a little out of sorts lately. Nothing for you to worry about, just various things on my mind. Anyway, when it comes to little things like that, you've really just got to tell Juniper directly that they bother you. She's not going to get mad at you over something like that.
Kawasaki: …are you sure? Like, do you know that somehow? How would she react if I told her I don't actually like Mario Kart that much?
Dr. Jimmison: I don't know what you mean by "know somehow," but I think that Juniper would probably not be mad at you about Mario Kart. She told me last week that she's kind of sick of it, but keeps suggesting it because you seem to enjoy it. I told her she really ought to just say that, but, well, here we are.
Kawasaki: …oh. Ok. I'll, uh, talk to her. Oh, one more thing …
Operative Kawasaki pauses for several seconds.
Dr. Jimmison: One more thing?
Kawasaki: It's June's birthday tomorrow. I'm not going to be able to be there, I've got a thing off-site, but, could you tell her happy birthday from me?
Dr. Jimmison tilts his head.
Dr. Jimmison: Juniper's birthday was several months ago, according to our records.
Kawasaki: That's Sammy's birthday. She changed hers to match, back before the rampancy event. Tomorrow's her actual birthday.
Dr. Jimmison: I see. I'll be sure to let her know.
Operative Kawasaki thanks Dr. Jimmison, and leaves the interview chamber. Dr. Jimmison begins to roam the chamber, moving his head from side to side slowly as if searching for something.
DJimmison
Clarence, are you available? I have some urgent questions regarding SCP-9247.
Certainly, go ahead and ask.
I'm afraid I have found reason to believe that that full, consistent suppression of her ontokinesis has not been achieved. If this is indeed the case, SCP-9247 is likely experiencing considerable, easily preventable distress and furthermore remains at some risk of rampancy, not to mention the obvious danger to any personnel who interact with an unsuppressed reality bender. Of course I recognize I am most likely mistaken, however nonetheless I feel obligated to approach you with these concerns.
…yes, that would be pretty bad. Where did you get that idea?
Well, Clarence, for starters, I'd just like to ask, well,
what is my first name?
IRREGULARITY DETECTED IN SRA NETWORK
BRACE FOR SUBJECTIVITY COLLAPSE: IT IS YOUR BIRTHDAY. YOU ARE FOURTEEN YEARS OLD.
YOUR NAME IS JUNIPER CASTEL.
{Revert}
You sit on your bed, kicking your legs absentmindedly and staring up at the bare metal ceiling of your containment chamber. You sigh. It wasn't supposed be like this.
You hold up your arm to examine the engraved metal bracelet encircling your left wrist. It is bronze alloy, carved with an intricate pattern meant to inhibit reality bending. They put it on when you arrived, using some sort of machine to fuse the two halves of the circle in place around your wrist. There's a matching restraint on your right wrist. You think they're also supposed to be able to inject a sedative or something, in an emergency. Maybe they explode. Who knows?
There is, obviously, no hinge or clasp or any way at all to take off the cuffs short of badly injuring your hands.
You effortlessly remove the worthless piece of metal and fling it against the far wall of your cell. It bounces off the patterned wallpaper with a clang that betrays the bare metal beneath, lands sideways on the ground and rolls about halfway across the floor back toward you before toppling over dramatically. You glare at it. It loses its composure entirely under your spiteful gaze, melting into a sad little puddle of bronze.
"Is there something wrong with it?"
You turn. A younger girl, maybe 12, is sitting on a bookcase. She is wearing clothes of some sort, either white or perhaps yellow, or orange. Her eyes are black and green with some white parts, but the colours are not quite in the right places. Looking at her is a somewhat disconcerting experience, so you resume staring at the ceiling.
"Yeah, it's not doing its job. And you guys have been slacking off a little too much as well, haven't you? You're supposed to stop people from," you say, and by way of continuation you gesture at the bronze puddle. It reforms into a small bronze lizard, which flicks its tongue to and fro a few times before scuttling across the floor and disappearing under the bed. The girl shrugs. As you are looking in the wrong direction, awareness of this shrug is transmitted to you directly without the intermediation of vision. This, too, is rather unpleasant. You just can't win with some people.
"Well, we've got a lot on our plate, you know? Can't be going out of our way to handle every little bit of mischief."
You let out another sigh, this time with a bit of a theatrical flair. "I just thought things would be different, here. Like, more normal."
"That was a very strange thing for you to think."
The voice changes midway through the sentence. You glance back. The girl has vanished; there's now a boy sitting crosslegged on the floor. Six years old, maybe less. You are speaking to some kind of collective incarnation of Site-17's network of Scranton Reality Anchors. Most reality benders above class-3 will feel a presence when subjected to such a strong ontostatic field. They aren't usually this talkative. You may be hallucinating.
"Uh, back then, when they first picked me up, I ended up causing you guys a lot of trouble, I think. Sorry about that." Hallucination or not, you take the opportunity to apologize for your past misdeeds.
"Oh, it's no big deal. Kyoko took care of it! She's always looking out for us, you know."
You smile bitterly. Kyoko spent half a week in the infirmary after 'taking care of it' and many of the anchors needed to be decommissioned. There must be at least some fragment of the anchors' 'minds' in this figment. If it was all you, you'd be chewing yourself out right now.
"I guess she's kind of like a big sister to you guys, huh." You say, half to yourself.
The boy nods, his expression lighting up the room and casting harsh shadows on the walls. "We like Kyoko a lot! We like you as well, Juniper. Not a lot of people can see us, you know? Even Kyoko can't really see us. It's a little lonely."
You nod. The boy, who is now a cat, walks across the floor and jumps up into your lap. You scritch it behind one ear. It feels like radio static. It's not like you can really see them either, you think. You've just got a good imagination. Too good, that's the whole problem.
You lie back on the bed, holding the cat above you with both hands. "Meow," it says.
"I thought I'd finally be able to tell. Like, if i'm actually talking to another person, or just talking to myself using their mouth. It's always so hard to tell. Are you really even restraining me? Like, at all? Could I just leave? I haven't tried."
The cat, who is now a teenage boy sitting on the bed facing away from you, replies:
"We have been instructed to apply the minimum level of suppression required to confine you to Site-17, prevent rampancy and safeguard Foundation interests. Occasionally we have prevented you from influencing senior staff. You have been extremely well behaved."
"No I haven't!" You snap, sitting upright in bed. The bronze lizard from earlier crawls out from under the bed, grows wings, and begins flapping noisily around the room like a startled bat. Various things are knocked to the floor. A ceramic mug shatters into small bits.
The boy, unfazed by this outburst, reaches behind you and scritches right behind your ear. Returning the favour, you suppose. You push his arm away. "I've done all kinds of stuff," you insist. "I've impersonated researchers, left the AOD compound without permission, accessed classified information, meddled with other anomalies, ignored curfew. I once reality bended the cafeteria menu purely because Kyoko was sick of mashed potatoes! And have you seen my personal handler?!"
"Dr. Dwight has assessed that your actions have been consistently neutral or positive for the Foundation, although he did request no further interference with the rations. And Dr. Jimmison is obviously a special case."
You raise your left arm. The little bronze dragon perches on your wrist and lets out a tiny but intimidating roar. "What if I made this little guy really big and invincible and fire-breathing and sent him on a rampage through the site, would you stop me?"
The voice's owner changes again. This time it's just sort of a shape, taking up space in the middle of the room. There's green and black and white in various places and a smell like old coins, and a sort of weightiness. "You're not going to do that," says the shape, in a voice that is mostly greenish. "You're going to turn it back to how it was before to avoid causing a fuss."
As if in obedience, the dragon curls itself around your wrist and returns to being a beryllium-bronze cuff. "What, can you read my mind?"
"No," says the shape, in your own voice. "You're just talking to yourself again."
Ah. I mean, obviously. They've just been repeating stuff you stuff you already know, after all. What a waste of time.
You notice that your face feels a little hot, and your eyes and nose are watery. It has been couple of days since your last uncontrollable crying fit, you supposed you're about due for another. You plunge your face into your pillow and begin absolutely wailing.
Subjectivity alignment lost. Please stand by.
When I say hypnosis, what do you think of? Perhaps mere quackery, used to swindle the gullible. Perhaps a nefarious, one sided, likely anomalous sort of brainwashing. Or perhaps you imagine powerful drugs, torture — the project of destroying and then rebuilding a mind. The first of these is of no interest to us; the third is impossible. The second is possible, true, via psionics or thaumaturgy or any number of tricks, but would you truly try to control the mind of a reality bender? Should there ever be the least opening, the tiniest crack in that control, it will be they who control you instead.
If we ever hope to truly harness this power, we must show kindness. We must earn trust. Ontokineticists fear rampancy more than anyone; we can offer them protection. They are isolated by their powers; we can offer them community. An ontokineticist restrained by coercive force is a liability; one restrained by human relationships is an incomparable asset. Most high-level ontokineticists manifest their powers around puberty. Our priority must be to find them as early as possible, to provide treatment before the symptoms of rampancy become too severe.
Treatment, you might ask? And here we return to hypnosis. True, non-anomalous hypnosis is not a one-sided affair but a collaboration between hypnotist and subject. Entering the trance requires both strong trust, and a sort of skill which must be actively developed by the subject. With a deep trance and the subject's affirmative participation, the mind can be shaped with remarkable freedom. We have found it is even possible for the hypnotist to apply subtle ontokinetic effects to the subject which they would be unable to perform themselves outside of the trance. Rampancy can be prevented, unintentional use of power can be locked out. Abilities can be refined, limited, directed. For many class-3 and 4 reality benders, this treatment is nothing less than their only hope of salvation.
It is only fair, then, that we ask for something in return.
- Dr. Clarence Dwight, Of Mad Gods and Enchanted Sleep: An Introduction to Modern Ontokinetics
Subjectivity alignment reestablished. You may proceed.
A few minutes have passed. It's about time to stop crying — you've got things to take care of. You raise your head from the pillow, take a tissue from the box beside your bed, and carefully wipe the tears and snot from your face. In the closet of your cell there is a broom and dustpan. You retrieve it and begin sweeping up the ceramic shards of the mug you destroyed in your previous outburst, careful to avoid stepping on any sharp bits. As you do, quietly recite a mantra.
"I am the words of my mouth and the work of my hands. I am the heart that beats and the lungs that breathe. I am a living animal; I am myself. I am the words of my mouth…"
You finish sweeping and decide to take a hot shower. Water streams over your body. Steam clouds the bathroom mirror. You breathe slowly, focus on the pleasant sensation, try to remain centered. This, the menial cleaning of your physical body and living space, is essential work. It is essential precisely because it is unnecessary, precisely because you could snap your fingers and have the shattered mug reform as if nothing ever happened. It is an exercise of will to let the mug remain broken. It is an ongoing choice you must make to live as an animal who cries and sweats, who drinks coffee from ceramic mugs and loves the feeling of hot water on her skin. You are taking too long in the shower; you begin to wash your hair. The hot water begins to run cold.
"I am the words of my mouth and the work of my hands. I am a living animal; I am myself. I am a living animal!"
In a truly herculean act of will, you prevent yourself from restoring the heat and finish washing yourself with cold water. A small triumph. It's not like anything bad would have happened if you'd heated up the water, but it's the principle. No bending reality for personal hygiene tasks, that's the rule you've set. If you don't follow your own rules, there'll be nothing else holding you together. Dwight told you that, but you didn't need to hear it from him. You've always known.
Speaking of which, it's nearly time for your weekly screaming session with the old man. You dry your hair and put on a fresh uniform. The standard for AOD Operatives is a long sleeve grey shirt closed with a zipper and black trousers. You've had some modifications made. Buttons instead of a zipper, short sleeves, extremely understated white frills, black pleated skirt, white leggings. It's still completely monochrome. You're doing your best to fit in, but the default uniform is just not you. It's important to remain as you as possible.
Three minutes to go until the meeting time. You'll be summoned soon. Might as well get going now. You spin around counterclockwise three times and vanish into thin air.
* * *
Clarence Dwight is sitting alone in his office. He has the air of a very old man, although he's only in his late fifties. It's something about his greying hair, which is just a little longer than you'd expect from someone so otherwise professional-looking, and his expression, which is always at least a little sad. Currently it is more than a little sad. He gazes absentmindedly at a photo of a teenage boy he keeps on the bookcase next to his desk, waiting for something.
Pale purple smoke begins to pour into the room from an unknown source, clouding the air. Books slowly rise from their shelves and drift lethargically in midair — a unidentified orange liquid pours down from the ceiling — ominous creaking and pounding is heard from somewhere outside the room. Dwight drums his fingers absentmindedly on his desk.
The walls collapse. Beyond them, an expanse of pastel pink skies and swirling purple clouds extends forever in every direction. You rise slowly from the unseen depths, pulling yourself to your full, enormous height and glaring down at Dwight like he's an unpleasant bug.
"CLARENCE DWIGHT." Your voice resounds through the void from every direction at once. "THE TIME HAS COME TO PAY THE PRICE OF YOUR INIQUITY."
"Hello, 9247. You're early." Dr. Dwight looks up at you with bemusement. "Seven out of ten. I liked the opening, but the giant bit isn't really your style. Did you steal that from a video game?"
"Shut up. Yes. Whatever." You clap your hands and the illusion dissolves. You are normal sized, sitting crosslegged on the only remaining fragment of purple cloud, which is levitating just in front of the old man's desk. The books and such have all returned to their proper places.
"I wish you'd stop that. It's childish. You must have realized by now you're not going to change my mind by scaring me"
"If you want me to stop, why don't you stop me, DWIGHT," you snap.
Dwight ignores your open hostility and instead pulls a gift-wrapped package from his desk drawer. He tosses it to you.
"Happy birthday," he says. You stare at the package. Now that you think about it, this is your real birthday, isn't it. You'd forgotten that you changed it. You wonder briefly how he figured that out, but realize you don't particularly care.
You consider burning the present out of spite, but curiosity gets the better of you. You tear open the wrapping paper. Inside is a cloth bag containing a small sewing kit, and various craft supplies. Felt, sheets of fabric, thread, buttons, stuffing, that kind of thing.
"I thought it'd be good for you to make things with your hands again," Dwight says. How kind. How considerate. You give him a look which would cause anyone not under the protection of a half dozen reality anchors to literally melt.
You are winding up to begin on your customary tirade when Dwight says something unexpected.
"Something serious has come up. Your participation could save a lot of people. I want to make the decision now."
"…really. Am I ready? Is he ready?" You climb down from the cloud and stand in front of the desk. Dwight nods.
"I finished the last of the modified conditioning in last week's session. You shouldn't be capable of rampancy until it wears off in over a year, unless your brain gets fried by something. In which case you'll have other problems."
"And the doctor?"
"The doctor is as ready as he'll ever be." Dwight pulls something else from the drawer and passes it to you. A hand puppet, dressed in a white researcher's coat with thin fuzzy white hair and thick opaque silver glasses. You take it in both hands and give it a close inspection.
"Just a heads up, I think he's really mad at you."
"As mad as you are?"
You have to think about that for a moment. "Not quite," you report.
"Then I'll take my chances."
You shrug, and pull the puppet over your right hand.
Interviewed: Dr. Clarence Dwight, Applied Ontokinetics Department Head
Interviewer: Dr. Jimmison
Foreword: The time has come for Clarence Dwight to pay the price of his iniquity.
Dr. Jimmison launches himself forward, vibrating with fury. The top of his head impacts Dr. Dwight's face with the full strength of a fourteen year old girl who hasn't gotten much exercise lately. Dwight winces and rubs his cheek.
Dr. Dwight: I suppose I deserved that. Hello, Jim.
Dr. Jimmison: Clarence, I have some very important questions for you.
Dr. Dwight: Yes, I imagine you would. Go ahead.
Dr. Jimmison: I have observed and … experienced a number of obviously ontokinetic phenomenon in the past months, despite the site's SRA network obviously remaining online. How is this possible? And why?
Dr. Dwight smiles.
Dr. Dwight: Yes, that would be outside your clearance wouldn't it. We've successfully produced the first batch of fourth generation anchors, with Kyoko's help. Remarkable devices. Having an ontostaticist who can be directly communicated with has been an immense boon to the field. It's a miracle we got as far as we did before, stumbling in the dark with lumps of organ meat in bronze coffins. 3005, for example, you have no idea how much worse that could have gone.
Dr. Jimmison: You have not answered either of my questions.
Dr. Dwight: Ah, that's true, sorry. Where was I? Fourth generation SRAs. The new anchors are cleverer beasts than their predecessors. With even a few of them incorporated in the network and a humanoid ontostaticist to give instructions, it's possible to fine tune the whole operation. Now, the main goal of this initiative was to manage the health impact—did you know that a second generation SRA's ontostatic field inhibits the folding of a number of completely non-anomalous human proteins? But it can be also be used to mitigate the effects of the field on a specific reality bender. Bringing the field fully to bear on a powerful class-4 would sharply reduce the lifespans of our anchors, and there would be a negative longterm impact on the class-4's potency as well.
Dr. Jimmison: And the Council approved this, I suppose?
Dr. Dwight stands up at his desk and gesticulates aggressively.
Dr. Dwight: The Council? Approved it? Jim, do you know what you get if you go to the Council for approval on this kind of thing? Dead children, that's what you get. No. First we achieve an overwhelming success. Then we go to the Council with our findings, when it's too late to stop us and shutting us down would be absurd.
Dr. Dwight sits down, looking somewhat embarrassed about his outburst.
Dr. Jimmison: Clarence, I must admit I do not understand. You speak with passion about the wellbeing of children. Why, then, have you not given the most basic standard of treatment to a child under your direct care? The standard Hypnos conditioning we perform on every reality bender who passes through here completely locks out subconscious use of their abilities. Juniper would clearly benefit from this treatment and has obviously not received it — nor are the abilities she finds so distressing being properly suppressed. Is this not a fundamental failure of our goals as a department? Of the task of the Foundation itself? Please, help me understand.
Dr. Dwight stares at the desk in front of him, avoiding the gaze of Dr. Jimmison's thick spectacles.
Dr. Jimmison: Clarence, please say something.
Dr. Dwight instead slides a manilla folder across the table. Dr. Jimmison looks through it.
Dr. Jimmison: What's this, a GOI dossier? Neo-Sarkic, looks like? Not my area of expertise.
Dr. Dwight: Radical splinter sect from the Hunter's Lodge. Heavy conventional armaments. Fleshshaping. Thaumaturgy. At least one class-2 ontokineticist. Between one and four third generation SRAs. And a Daevite artifact with poorly understood anomalous properties. They're not big, but they're well entrenched. We can't just bomb them, Command wants that artifact contained. It's going to be a whole campaign, and they're going to requisition my kids for every mission, and I'm not going to be able to turn it down, and some of them aren't going to come home.
Dr. Jimmison: I'm not sure I follow.
Dr. Dwight: But what if none of that had to happen? What if they just went away? You know what can make problems just go away, Jim? A class-4 reality bender. 9247 could go in there, today, pop whatever few anchors they have like pimples and turn them all into mice or something. Standard Hypnos conditioning weakens a reality bender. On our typical class-2s and 3s it's not that big a deal, but for someone like 9247 it might well bring her all the way down to class-3.
Dr. Jimmison: Clarence, you can't be serious. Juniper hates your guts, she'll never consent to this, and you can't send an unwilling, barely-conditioned reality bender into the field.
Dr. Dwight shakes his head sadly.
Dr. Dwight: You've got the order backwards. 9247 hates my guts because she's already agreed to this, right from the start. And that's where you come in.
Dr. Jimmison tilts his head to one side.
Dr. Dwight: The agreement is, you make the decision and we'll both abide by it. It's in the containment procedures. If you say I should give her the full treatment and turn the anchors on her, potential be damned, I'll do that, and maybe she sees field operations as an ordinary Hypnos Operative in a year or so, if she agrees to it then. Or maybe she doesn't, and lives happily ever after right here in Site-17. On the other hand, if you sign here,
Dr. Dwight produces a release form from his desk drawer and slides it across the table.
Dr. Dwight: she goes out there, today, and makes the problem go away. And then she comes home and has a birthday party with her friends, none of whom had to go out there and get killed. Otherwise, Kyoko's going out on active duty today. They insist they need her to deal with that artifact. That girl, you know, she's a formidable force against anything ontokinetic but against bullets she is an ordinary fourteen year old.
Dr. Jimmison stares at the form.
Dr. Jimmison: Before I decide, I have one more question.
Dr. Dwight: Shoot.
Dr. Jimmison: What am I?
Dr. Dwight: I was wondering when we'd get around to that. You, my old friend, are a collaborative effort. We needed a neutral party, someone sympathetic to both 9247 and the Foundation, who we could both trust completely. Unfortunately, 9247 overexerted herself quite a bit in the process and needed until now to recover. I didn't realize it would be so mentally taxing.
For the first time, Dr. Jimmison looks down at SCP-9247. She is crouching out of sight in front of Dr. Dwight's desk with only her right hand extended upward. Her expression is blank and her eyes are unfocused; she is obviously not present. Dr. Jimmison shudders.
Dr. Dwight: Can you see her now? That must be a bit of a shock. Let me know if you need a minute.
Dr. Jimmison looks back up at the release form.
Dr. Jimmison: This is all a bit unfair, don't you think?
Dr. Dwight: You're welcome to give me another good smack if it makes you feel any better.
Dr. Jimmison: I've had enough of that already, thank you.
There is a pause of several minutes, during which Dr. Jimmison repeatedly looks back and forth between the release form and SCP-9247's expressionless face. He is vibrating very slightly. Finally, he lets out a long, mournful sigh.
Dr. Jimmison: I don't know what's best for anyone. I haven't the faintest clue why you thought I could decide something like this. But.
Dr. Jimmison takes a pen in his mouth and, with great reluctance, signs the release form.
Dr. Jimmison: … I think she deserves a birthday party. I think she would want Kyoko to be there. That's the only reason.
Dr. Dwight who had been leaning forward intently, slumps back into his chair and wipes sweat from his forehead.
Dr. Dwight: You've made the right choice here, Jim. A lot of innocent people are going to be saved.
Dr. Jimmison shudders.
Dr. Jimmison: I think I am coming to realize, Clarence, that I don't like you very much.
Dr. Dwight: I get that a lot. It's this job, it does wretched things to your personality.
Dwight stands up and leans forward to get a look at SCP-9247, who is still crouched in front of the desk.
Dr. Dwight: Hey Juniper, you heard that, right? Fair's fair. Make sure you're back in time for the party.
SCP-9247: I told you not to call me that, Dwight.
SCP-9247 storms out of the room. Dr. Dwight watches her go, looking a little bit sad. Dr. Jimmison remains, lying limp across the desk.
Object has been redesignated as Thaumiel.
Happy Birthday, Juniper Castel