nn5n Foundation
Branch of SCP Foundation
nn5n: scp-1260 HMS Tiresias
EuclidSCP-1260 HMS TiresiasRate: 94
SCP-1260 - HMS Tiresias
rating: +85+x

SCP-1260 as viewed from the deck of the SCPS Melampus

Item #: SCP-1260

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: Due to the nature of SCP-1260, full containment is impossible. At no point is exploration or testing permitted aboard SCP-1260. The waters around the vessel are to be under constant satellite surveillance. Any vessel attempting to navigate the waters within a 20 km radius of SCP-1260 is to be diverted by Foundation personnel aboard the SCPS Cassandra. In the event that contact with SCP-1260 is lost due to a containment breach or emergency relocation, the next ocean in SCP-1260''s location cycle is to be monitored until SCP-1260’s GPS beacon reappears. At this time, the Foundation vessel assigned to SCP-1260 in that ocean will immediately be redeployed to allow continued containment. These vessels are the SCPS Cassandra, SCPS Melampus and the SCPS Polyeidos for the Pacific, Indian and Atlantic Oceans respectively.

Description: SCP-1260 is a 18th century 42 gun Royal Navy 5th rate frigate entitled the HMS Tiresias currently adrift in the southern Pacific Ocean.  Despite the ship’s age the vessel appears to be in perfect sailing condition.

Aboard SCP-1260 reside the skeletal remains of the ship’s original 2██ crewmen in addition to a total of ██ other individuals and the █ Foundation agents lost during Exploration 1. A majority of these remains lie fully intact upon the ship’s gun decks or within SCP-1260’s hold. All clothing and equipment recovered from SCP-1260 continue to function as normal despite age and environmental exposure.

Twenty minutes following any boarding of SCP-1260 a large bank of fog will begin to gather around the ship with a radius of 1 km. This fog fully encloses the ship an additional 15 minutes later at which point all electronic devices aboard issuing a transmission will cease to function. Any subject still aboard SCP-1260 at this time will become irretrievable.

The fog will dissipate ten minutes after SCP-1260 is fully enveloped. At this point the subject will have vanished along with anything aboard the ship at the time of encasement. SCP-1260 will reappear in a random site in the next major ocean 2 to 12 weeks later, moving from east to west as it circles the globe. At this time all human life aboard the ship at the time of its disappearance will be among the skeletal remains. To date there has been no instance of SCP-1260 appearing in the Arctic or Southern Oceans.

Exploration attempts have shown that the ship’s cargo hold has been completely emptied of food and that messages have been carved into a large percentage of the ship’s interior surface area. The captain’s log has been recovered, though no abnormalities were reported in any of the entries. No evidence exists to suggest pages were removed from the log prior to discovery.

Addendum: 1260-01: Exploration Logs:

Exploration 1:

SCP-1260 is adrift in the South Indian Ocean. Exploration Team 1 consists of █ Foundation Agents. Each is equipped with a headset providing an audio feed to Control aboard the SCPS Melampus. A video feed from aboard the Melampus captures the exploration in progress. The exploration team approaches SCP-1260 in a raft.

Team Leader: Attention Melampus, we have just made contact with the Tiresias. Preparing to board now.

Exploration team boards SCP-1260 from the starboard side.

Team Leader: Alright Melampus, we are now aboard the vessel. We have visual on several sets of human remains. All skeletal.

SCPS Melampus: Do we have a count on how many bodies?

Team Leader: From an estimate I’d say over twenty on this deck alone. We will need more time to provide a more accurate count.

SCPS Melampus: Roger that. Please continue to search the ship. Report any anomalous findings.

Exploration team begins to search SCP-1260, venturing into the vessel’s interior. 15 minutes pass since boarding.

Team Leader: Alright Melampus, we have a count. There appear to be 2██ total bodies scattered throughout the ship. 2██ appear to be a mixture of period sailors and Royal Marines. We also count ██ other individuals from a variety of eras. At least █ of these guys are French marines from the same period. We also have a variety of fishermen.

SCPS Melampus: Very good. Have you searched the cargo hold yet?

Team Leader: We have. It is completely emptied of food though all other supplies are untouched. Nothing appears to have aged a day. I wouldn’t be surprised if you could still light the gun powder.

SCPS Melampus: Strange, is this effect only concentrated on the cargo hold?

Team Leader: Negative, it’s the whole ship. The entire vessel appears to have taken no damage despite how long it has been at sea. It’s in perfect sailing condition. Even the clothing and weapons we found on the bodies haven’t decayed.

SCPS Melampus: Roger. Have any other anomalies been spotted?

Team Leader: None yet, but the entire interior of this place is covered in carved messages.

SCPS Melampus: Noted. Please make sure to document those messages you deem important. Have you located the captain’s log yet?

Team Leader: Negative. We’re combing the ship for it now. We’ll let you know when we find it.

Exploration team continues to search SCP-1260. 30 minutes pass since boarding. Fog has begun to gather around SCP-1260 for the past 15 minutes.

Team Leader: Hey Melampus. Do you know anything about this fog? We are beginning to lose visual on you.

SCPS Melampus: Affirmative. Our equipment detects that it has so far gathered only around the ship. Return to the Melampus when the captain’s log has been found.

Fog continues to gather around SCP-1260 until it is fully encased. At this time, all of the exploration team transmitting devices go dead. Attempts to regain contact fail. Ten minutes later the fog dissipates. SCP-1260 has vanished.

Exploration 2:

SCP-1260 is adrift in the North Atlantic. Exploration Team 2 consists of █ Foundation Agents. Each is equipped with a headset providing an audio feed to Control aboard the SCPS Polyeidos. A video feed from aboard the SCPS Polyeidos captures the exploration in progress. The exploration team approaches SCP-1260 in a raft. A GPS tracker has been provided for attachment to SCP-1260’s hold.

Team Leader: Attention Polyeidos, we have just made contact with the SCP-1260. No signs of Team 1 are visible. Preparing to board now.

SCPS Polyeidos: Roger, Team 2. Team 1’s tracker is still active according to our equipment. Please board the ship and locate any remains of Team 1. We will have you abandon ship in the event that the fog reappears.

Exploration team boards SCP-1260 from the port side.

Team Leader: Alright Polyeidos, we are now aboard the vessel. The message “Beware the fog,” has been carved across a majority of the deck. This was not reported by Team 1, correct?

SCPS Polyeidos: Correct. That is new. Please document this and any other changes in the ship that you discover.

Team Leader: Roger. We have also located Team 1 Leader’s remains propped against the mainmast. His beacon is active and he is holding what appears to be the captain’s log in his hands.

SCPS Polyeidos: Excellent. Recover the log for study. Have your team continue to search the ship for the remainder of Team 1 and attach the GPS tracker to the ship’s hold.

Exploration team continues to search SCP-1260, venturing into the vessel’s interior. 25 minutes pass since boarding. Fog has begun to appear around the ship

Team Leader: We have located all █ agents. █ were found on the top deck, █ in the cargo hold and █ in the various gun decks. All bodies have now been recovered and the GPS tracker has been fixed to the cargo hold.

SCPS Polyeidos: Roger. Fog has become visible. Please have your team return to the boarding craft immediately.

Exploration team returns to their boarding craft. 30 minutes pass since boarding. Fog has begun to gather around SCP-1260 for the past 10 minutes. Exploration team returns to SCPS Polyeidos without incident. SCP-1260 is fully encased in fog an additional 5 minutes later. At this time the GPS tracker ceases to issue a signal. Ten minutes later the fog dissipates. SCP-1260 has vanished.

Addendum: 1260-02: Agent ████’s Log :

The following was recovered written in the back of the Captain’s log by Agent ████, Team Leader, Exploration Team 1:

<6/20/20██> I’m writing this in the event that we aren’t able to provide a debriefing in person. We found the damn thing stuffed in a pot in the Crew’s mess. We remained encased in fog god knows how long before it dissipated. We were then spit out in a different place, though I can’t say where. The sea is black as ink. Our lights don''t penetrate the surface so we have no idea what the fuck lurks below. The sky is also pitch black. No stars or moon.  The only light source available aside our flashlights is a bright glow coming from the top of the main mast. ██████ climbed up there to take a look, but there was nothing there. For the time being we are going to explore the ship. Maybe we’ll find something that’ll give us an idea of what to do next.

<6/21/20██> We heard whispers today. They were very soothing at first, but now they seem off. None of us can make out where they are coming from, but what they say to us is crystal clear. They called to █████ by name. They asked him about his family. He attempted to respond, but they never replied. We can see another light in the distance. The voices are coming from that direction. There is a breeze here, so maybe we’ll try to sail.

<6/22/20██> █████ is dead. The poor bastard started vomiting and began to wither away before our eyes. There was nothing we could do to help him. We didn’t know what the fuck was going on. His body rotted away a few hours later, leaving only clothing and bones behind. The whispers have now started calling to ████████.
<6/23/20██> ████████ and ████ are now dead. Both had their names called and both withered away. There’s not a fucking thing we can do. They just fell apart in front of me. Now the whispers have started laughing. The light in distance is getting closer, beyond that four other lights have appeared. I’m hoping we arrive before those things begin to call me.

<6/24/20██> We arrived at the light today. It was another ship, some merchant frigate from the 20th century or something like that. We managed to board it. Skeletons. Just like with the Tiresias, there were only skeletons. It was then the whispers became cackles and we saw at least another ten lights begin to burn in the distance. They seem to come from every god damn direction now. Even worse, the whispers have started to call my name. The rest of team is staying away from me. I don’t want to die.

<6/25/20██> They ask me about my daughter and my wife. They ask me if I miss them and if I’m strong enough to see them again. I have tried to respond, but they don’t reply. I don’t know what the fuck they want from me. I screamed at the fucking sky for hours. They never responded.
I have personally flipped through the Captain’s log, but there is absolutely nothing here to indicate the captain or the crew had anything to do with this. The final log puts the crew on a mission to investigate pirate attacks in the East Indian Ocean, with good conditions. It’s always nice to know what you’re looking for had all the answers.
I have placed myself against the mainmast with the log in my hands. I hope the Foundation learned something. I hope our deaths expanded that scientific horizon. God damn you. God damn all of you.


page revision: 16, last edited: 27 Nov 2014 12:02
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