Agent Sarah Kline's journey from her small-town roots in Virginia to the enigmatic halls of the SCP Foundation was a testament to the organization's need for a diverse and highly skilled workforce.
Her academic excellence in computer science, combined with a solid foundation in criminal psychology—a unique combination perfectly suited to the Foundation's multifaceted needs—had marked her as an ideal candidate for recruitment.
Sarah's transition into the Foundation was reflective of the organization's meticulous onboarding process, which often started recruits on tasks far removed from the direct handling of SCP objects.
This period, serving as both a test and an introduction to the Foundation's vast operational scope, was crucial. It allowed new agents like Sarah to acclimate to the Foundation's culture and the realities of working within an organization that operated in the shadows, beyond the realm of conventional understanding.
Despite the initial mundanity of her tasks, Sarah understood the significance of her role. Monitoring potential recruits and tracking individuals who, while not directly recruitable, might inadvertently lead the Foundation to talents that could one day play a pivotal role in containment, research, or security, was vital.
The Foundation's strength lay not just in its ability to secure and contain anomalies but in its capacity to continually adapt and grow its ranks with individuals possessing the rare blend of skills necessary to manage the unpredictable nature of SCP objects.
Sarah's early days at the Foundation, spent far from the immediate thrill and danger associated with direct SCP interaction, were foundational.
They offered her a glimpse into the vast operational network that sustained the Foundation's efforts—a network that required not only front-line agents and researchers but also strategists, analysts, and monitors like herself.
The work might have lacked the immediate excitement of field assignments, but it was underscored by a profound sense of purpose. Every piece of data analyzed, every potential recruit scrutinized, contributed to the Foundation's overarching mission: to secure, contain, and protect.
As Sarah progressed within the Foundation, the skills she honed during this initial period—attention to detail, analytical thinking, and a deep understanding of the human psyche—would become invaluable.
Sarah Kline's career at the SCP Foundation took a significant turn with her promotion, a milestone that granted her deeper insights into the organization's operations but also imposed new restrictions on her personal life.
Her ascent within the Foundation was a testament to her dedication and skill, marking her transition from behind-the-scenes analysis to active fieldwork. This shift in responsibilities brought with it a certain degree of isolation, particularly from her family.
Yet, her relationship with a fellow Foundation employee provided a source of understanding and support that made this transition smoother than she had anticipated.
Their shared experiences and commitment to the Foundation's cause forged a bond that helped Sarah navigate the complexities of her new role.
Assigned primarily to cases involving Euclid or safe-class objects, Sarah found herself relieved to be spared the direct dangers associated with Keter-class anomalies. Her work, while fraught with its own set of challenges, allowed her to engage more directly with the Foundation's mission on the ground.
One of her earliest assignments, SCP-247, dubbed "a harmless kitten," offered a stark introduction to the deceptive nature of some SCPs.
The object's true form, a Bengal tiger perceived by bystanders as an innocuous kitten, demonstrated the perilous unpredictability of the anomalies under the Foundation's purview.
Witnessing the object's deadly capabilities firsthand, Sarah's resolve to protect the public from such threats was solidified. This encounter underscored the importance of her work and the necessity of the Foundation's efforts.
Her current assignment was a far cry from dangers as one could be. Not only was the work mostly analytical in nature, but even for the fieldwork parts were the greater dangers the random mugging then the object she was after itself.
The hunt for SCP-677, a seemingly innocuous pogo stick that, in reality, harbored properties far beyond the ordinary. The classification as a safe object belied the unique challenges it presented, especially since its anomalous effects were triggered only upon use.
The task of locating such an item in the vast sea of mundanity was daunting, likened to finding a needle in a haystack, if the haystack spanned the entire planet.
The daily list of names Sarah received each morning was her primary lead, a digital breadcrumb trail left by the pogo stick as it moved from person to person. These names were her waypoints, clues that pointed towards the SCP's current location, albeit indirectly.
The list was both a blessing and a curse; it offered tangible leads, yet its limitations were clear. It was updated only once a day, and with the pogo stick's propensity to change hands frequently, countless potential clues were lost in the interim.
Thankfully, Sarah was not alone in her quest. A team of dedicated analysts, each with their own expertise in digital forensics and international databases, supported her efforts. Together, they poured over the list, cross-referencing names with social media activity, travel logs, and public records in an attempt to triangulate the SCP's location.
The diversity of the names provided both a clue and a challenge, suggesting that the pogo stick was in a cosmopolitan area rich in cultural diversity.
This realization narrowed their search significantly. Instead of sifting through the entire world, they could focus on major urban centers where such a mix of Eastern and Western names might be found.
Each city became a puzzle to be solved, with Sarah and her team analyzing patterns of movement and attempting to predict where the SCP might end up next based on the demographics of its temporary guardians.
The global scope of their search underscored the unique challenges faced by Foundation agents. Tasks that seemed straightforward on paper could quickly spiral into complex operations requiring a blend of analytical skills, intuition, and sometimes sheer luck.
With this narrowed focus, Agent Sarah Kline dove into the task at hand with her team of analysts. The diversity in the names suggested a metropolitan area, a place where cultures blended seamlessly. The mission, while daunting, was not insurmountable for someone of Sarah's caliber.
Each day, the list of names brought new possibilities and eliminated others. Sarah and her team meticulously mapped out the likely cites using advanced algorithms and pattern recognition techniques. They cross-referenced the names with public surveillance footage, social media check-ins, and travel records, looking for any overlap or recurring patterns.
Indeed, some names seemed to be on the list multiple times; these were, without a doubt, the most important names, yet only once they had the possible locations narrowed down to just a few. Many of those names could be found many times over in large eastern cities.
The process was exhaustive. Each name was a puzzle piece, and the team worked tirelessly to see how they fit into the larger picture. The analysts were an eclectic mix of talents – some were data mining experts, while others specialized in geographic profiling or had a knack for cultural analysis.
As days went on, the picture began to take shape. The team zeroed in on a few key cities where the possibility seemed the highest. Sarah's instincts, honed through years of experience, guided her through the maze of data. The SCP was within reach; she could feel it.
Then, a breakthrough came. A name on the list was unique enough that it could cut down many of the suspected cities. Checking to make extra sure about the data and assumptions, they were able to lock it down to within the USA, quickly taking the number of possible locations down from dozens to just a few.
Sarah decided to take a hands-on approach. She packed her gear and set out for the nearest possible city on the short list, a bustling metropolis that served as a melting pot of cultures and activities. Upon arrival, she blended into the urban landscape, her Foundation training making her just another face in the crowd.
Her investigation led her to a small store in Chinatown, a place where the SCP could easily hide in plain sight amidst the myriad of trinkets and toys. There, tucked away in a corner, was the innocuous-looking pogo stick – SCP-677.
With careful precision, Sarah purchased the SCP, ensuring it did not activate its anomalous properties. The store owner, oblivious to the item's true nature, was happy to part with it for a few dollars.
The containment team was already en route, ready to secure SCP-677 and transport it to Site 19. As Sarah handed over the pogo stick to the containment team, she felt a sense of accomplishment. Another SCP was secured, and another potential crisis was averted.
Back at the Foundation, Sarah's work was lauded. Her successful retrieval of SCP-677 was a testament to her skill and the effectiveness of her team. Yet, in the world of the SCP Foundation, there was little time for celebration. There were always more anomalies to secure and more mysteries to unravel.
As Sarah prepared for her next assignment, she reflected on her journey. From a small town in Virginia to the clandestine world of the SCP Foundation, her life had been a journey of discovery, challenge, and unwavering commitment to a more significant cause.
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[Site-001]
Alex was getting ready to meet today's guest, someone he had been looking forward to for a while now. Today, he would meet yet another avenger, the Black Widow herself, Natasha Romanoff.
After a brief intro you with her, he expected that she would be briefed by members of Alpha-1 and possibly tested a little well. They had free reign to do as they saw fit to ensure his security for the following meeting.
They had prepared extensive plans for everything, including Natasha, as they were aware of his plans for her. They even took that into account and ensured that she would not be suspicious, nor would there be anything any shield analysts would find suspicious later on.
With the over-the-top absurd planning that the Foundation was known for, redundancies upon redundancies were insured.
It was well getting prepared for this meeting when he got an unexpected ping from his system.
[Ding! Congratulations to Host for the successful containment of SCP-677! Rewards are being given out!]
Given its more harmless nature, it wasn't a SCP object he paid too much attention to. He had consistently given an updated list of names as she would check his locating system a few times a day and write the names down to be sent in the evening.
Still, it was welcome that the object was in containment. After all, it gave him a both a reward and afew system points, even if he wasn't in a desperate need for them.
Alex didn't have much faith that the reward would be exciting or useful either, given the nature of most safe class rewards. Yet the quinjets had been surprisingly useful, so he was just a little optimistic that at least it wouldn't be completely worthless.
I hope that we are quickly dashed as his system informed him of the nature of the reward.
[Ding! Congratulations to Host for getting Mike's toy collection improved version!]
The name of the ward itself he did towards its complete uselessness to a man like himself, and as he further inquired from the system, he was certain in his initial assessment after reward based on its name.
It was merely a collection of toys that were completely indestructible. There were not even any large enough toys that could be used for something proper like a shield or a piece of armor.
Seriously, what is the use of a crate of indestructible Lego pieces? Anyone who ever had the unfortunate pleasure of stepping on one of those would know that they feel pretty damn indestructible under your poor feet?
The rest of the toys were equally useless: a few action figures, a few balls for various sports, a pair of roller skates, a hula hoop ring, and a few other knickknacks.
The only interesting fact about them is that they had no floors like SCP 677 itself with its random jump height, no doubt a result of the enhanced version title given by the system.
Another useful one can call anything about this work useful is the fact that play, the toys would resize themselves to better fit the current situation.
The ability for the toy to change size was potentially useful had it not been for the fact that it only happened during play.
This meant that this toy collection only used were to be given to children or objects who destroyed things. Never without a doubt, quite a few SCP objects had the unfortunate habit of destroying everything they were in contact with.
Something these toys would negate and allow them to be played with normally, the idea of using the Lego bricks to construct an indestructible containment cell did briefly cross his mind before he realized that anything they would want to contain an indestructible cell that is to be able to dismantle the bricks after all their connection points we're no different from regular bricks.
So unless he managed himself some indestructible super glue or something to keep them together, that hope was dashed.
'Yes, I can just send this up to Banner. If it truly can resize itself, it has the potential for distracting the Hulk given his childlike mentality.' Alex contemplated quietly.
He was well aware that the largest current problem of conducting experiments on the Hulk was the lengthy repair time and cost between each session. The positive news so far is that the Hulk hasn't tried to escape. It had caused considerable damage before calming down.
Then there was the fact that custom equipment had to be built each time to account for his size and strength. Customer equipment that so far had seen little practical use as a hog would smash everything before calling down there for completely missing the fact that he was smashing up toys and play equipment.
Some indestructible toys could perhaps be a temporary stop measure to give the Hulk something to do, something he can't destroy, and hope that eventually, he will attempt to play with other toys, some of which are better at measuring his intelligence.
This line of thought did have some potential, and Alex quickly went through that, informing his Manor staff that there was a shipment of equipment to be sent up to SITE-160.
While the reward had little potential use in the future, it did serve well enough to distract Alex until his meeting with Natasha came up. In fact, it put him slightly behind schedule, quoting me to not be completely ready to meet her by the time an intendant interrupted his musings to inform him that she had arrived.
"Ensure that my guest is properly entertained while she's waiting. I wouldn't want her to start planting too much Spire equipment around whatever room she's in, nor have her accidentally wander around looking for a bathroom and enter places she was not meant to be." Alex instructed as she quickly got to finishing off the last few things he needed.