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nn5n: scp-2714 Billions of Blue Blistering
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SCP-2714

Item #: SCP-2714

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-2714 is to be kept in a low-value containment safe at Site 88. On no account are pages 20 and 21 to be opened outside of occasional approved testing. Pages 57 and 58 are to be opened and the contents recorded daily. A standard-issue containment bookmark has been slotted into these pages to avoid opening pages 20 and 21 during the procedure. All documents related to SCP-2714 are to be stored in low-level object supplement folders next to the safe for researcher reference.

All SCP-2714-1 instances are to be contained in biological containment cells at Site 88. Instances may be divided up by -A, -B, and -C within the cells for convenience of researchers, as there is no distinction between them outside of appearance. The air in SCP-2714-1 containment cells are to contain 5% microscopic biological matter, distributed by air vent, for feeding purposes.

Pages 20 and 21, if ever opened for approved testing purposes, are only to be opened in SCP-2714-1 biological containment chambers.

Description: SCP-2714 is a copy of the 1968 graphic novel The Adventures of Tintin: Flight 714 by Belgian artist Georges Remi (known by his pen name Hergé), translated from French into English by Leslie Lonsdale-Cooper and Michael Turner and published by Methuen Children's Books. SCP-2714 shows signs of its age, with some minor damage, but is in mostly good condition.

SCP-2714 has two pages that display separate anomalous properties. Opening the page 20-21 spread will cause the appearance of three sessile organisms resembling barnacles, designated SCP-2714-1, in a varying distance around SCP-2714-1. This will occur every ten minutes until the book is closed. Each SCP-2714-1 instance is, on average, 1 meter tall and 10 meters in circumference at the base, though size does vary (see document 2714-35FN for detailed statistical analysis). There appear to be three distinct types of SCP-2714-1, identified as SCP-2714-1A, SCP-2714-1B, and SCP-2714-1C; all instances of each type of SCP-2714-1 are genetically identical to each other.

The shell plates of each SCP-2714-1 organism are composed of live bone; patches of hair-growing tissue are also present, as are patches of of what appears to be fabric. The bone has been genetically analyzed and identified as belonging to a domestic dog (Canis familiaris) — specifically, the Wire Haired Terrier breed; notably, all bone has been sourced to the same individual. Three colors of hair (white, orange, and black) are present, as are three colors of fabric (green, light blue, and dark blue). The white hair is present on all SCP-2714-1 organisms; genetic analysis of the white-hair follicles indicates that they are canine, and from the same individual as the bone in the shell plates.

Samples taken from the cirri and internal systems of SCP-2714-1 -A, -B and -C instances indicate they are composed of mostly human DNA, as opposed to the canine carapaces. SCP-2714-1 instances feed on biological matter in the surrounding air filtered using their cirri, and lack reproductive organs. Each instance secretes a small amount of corrosive liquid, found to be 68% ethanol and described as having a woody odor, similar to whisky. Part of the musculature contains complex human brain tissue. No electrical activity has been recorded originating from this tissue, and it is most likely vestigial, with no current purpose within the organism. SCP-2714-1 instances have a small, active, primary brain; a clump of neurons that control bodily function.

The second anomaly appears upon opening page 58. All text in dialogue bubbles will be replaced with a long, incoherent dialogue by an unknown entity or group of entities. This text changes upon reopening the page. Common themes amongst these texts include purgatory, the nature of reality, and the death of artistic thought. References to other Tintin stories are common, though seemingly disconnected from the text's main ideas.

Sample text observed on █/█/19██. Character actions are recorded for reference.

Captain Haddock: And I saw my comrades make that great and terrible crossing from the boundaries of known art into the land of alph-art1, and into the unknown.

(Captain Haddock is hypnotized by Kanrokitoff.)

Captain Haddock: Yes, but would that be so? We know not what exists for the wicked.

Kanrokitoff: If the world were like that of an oyster, then we are the slime surrounding the pearl, forming the pearl. We create the comic-men stumbling through the woods to some glory we know not what. Picaros.2 Ten thousand thundering typhoons.3

(Kanrokitoff orders the other characters to climb a ladder of the spacecraft. He then does so himself. The volcano then explodes.)

Kanrokitoff: They are the ideal. We hold them past their racist minds and the formless chaos of those old forgotten europeans who destroyed the world. Have you seen the meat made of ink? The blood of paper? The world of doll eyes4 and dashing kings.

Lazlo Carreidas: This is transient. All of it. I am formless, writhing through a great void, waiting to be made flesh. This is meaningless. There is only the word. In the beginning there was the word.

Kanrokitoff: And the word was with God.

Skut: That is true. One cannot dispute that. But what of the pictures? What of those same terrible concepts. They never receive the news.

(Kanrokitoff spots the rubber dinghy where the villains are sailing)

Kanrokitoff: I am Castafiore, the Milanese Nightingale,5 and I have borne an intolerable force. For someone came at me headlong in the morning and dismembered me with a bottle of whisky and tore me apart, according to the rigor of harmony. What nonsense! What did it make of me? I am still waiting.

Allan: Art is dead. Comedy is dead. Adventure is dead. Racism is dead.6

(Rastapopalous fires at the spacecraft.)

Rastapopalous: Should we embrace the hell? The riotous violence of the others? I doubt I would survive even that crossing.

Addendum-1: SCP-2714 was recovered from the belongings of Pierre Escoffier, a Montreal illustrator and poet who had committed suicide three weeks prior. Escoffier's belongings had also contained a large amount of Tintin memorabilia, and acquaintances had testified to local police that he was a collector and fanatic who had an inordinate obsession with Georges Remi. Escoffier was reported to have become extremely erratic prior to his suicide, talking frequently of "old gods, made in Haddock's image, failed." Of note is the fact that Escoffier's father Guillaume Escoffier, a wealthy businessman, has had several ties to noted Neo-Sarkic cults throughout Canada and the northern United States.

SCP-2714's anomalous properties first came to the Foundation’s attention when it had been left open to page 21 while local police were emptying Escoffier’s apartment. The next morning, the apartment had been completely colonized by SCP-2714-1 instances of varying sizes. Foundation agents within Quebec police forces were alerted, and contained the anomaly. All SCP-2714-1 specimens were removed to Foundation custody. SCP-2714-1 instances would most likely have exponentially colonized beyond the apartment had Page 20 not been closed.


Taken from Escoffier’s journal:

Jan 7

The latest piece got some recognition at the gallery. I am glad, for the money is running low and the rent is due. Bought a lovely Thomson Twin maquette, found it in an antique shop not terribly far from my apartment.

Also met with some strange men at the gallery. Seemed to me they were especially interested in my father. One of them, Australian accented, said he was named Powell and he was interested in commissioning a piece for a few of father's men. Some diorama sculpture to fill one of their corporate lobbies. Powell and another man, Tanhauser, they gave me a card. "ARE WE COOL YET?" and then a phone number and email address.7 Seems sketchy, but they tell me they’re a legitimate art collective. And you know what? I believe them.


Found scribbled on notecard by desk. It is presumed these were notes taken during a phone call

-Powell’s Project notes - pass on to father.

flesh concept
figures in domestic setting
3d dining room/diorama

life size, venal themes
appropriate for hospital or research center
Slightly Macabre
Russian influence, themes of cancer and growth.
tendrils?
See example at art show. DHC/ART Fondation pour l'art contemporain. 7:00. gang will be there.


Taken from Escoffier’s journal:

Mar 12

The show I was invited to was one of those snobby art events. Lots of young pretentious men in tight jeans and a smug grin, girlfriends hanging off their arms. No class. Downing shots from the bar like the world was ending. In times like these I wish I were in Marlinspike Hall, sipping a Loch Lomond and consuming my alcohol like a fucking adult. The DHC/ART was packed with these poseurs! All of them supposed “an-artists.” They do stuff with light and “magic” to create ostentatious displays. Apparently some of these inscrutable, incomprehensible pieces even damage people as part of their artistic purpose. At which point, for me, the meaning of the art is lost. It’s a fucking joke at that point.

I found the pieces Powell created himself as nightmarish as the crowd that cooed over them. Disgusting and vile, and he apparently uses real flesh too! He claims he used “anomalous means” to twist and rupture the human form, but it’s so fake. You can’t see a Ritual of Adytum and forget it, much less believe a fake.

(Foundation agents embedded at the gallery event observed Michael Powell, noted member of Are We Cool Yet? whose work was being presented, sitting at the gallery bar with Escoffier for three hours. Although the record of the conversation was recorded, it was destroyed for security reasons related to the surveillance.)

Group text messaging conversation recovered from Escoffier’s phone. Conversation was between Escoffier and three AWCY anartists (Michael Powell, Werner Tanhauser, Lauren Palicki).

Powell: so dude we herd (sic) you were a flesh creatin guy.

Powell: thats awesome

Escoffier: It’s something I grew up around, but I haven’t really involved myself with serious Ion worship since I was six.

Palicki: but ur dad he's a member of a nälkä cult yea?

Powell: i've been using that flesh stuff as a inspriation (sic) since i started. i wanna learn so much from him. you still in contact?

Escoffier: I mean, I call him every once in a while. He calls me, wants to know how my artwork is going, but we’re not close or anything. A man who controls the world through secret societies is not bound to be the best father.

Tanhauser: its just like inherently amusing for me that an immortal member of basically the illuminati still calls and nags his kids

Escoffier: I mean, Dad’s old, but he’s not really immortal. Not even active as a Karcist anymore.

Tanhauser: still funny

Powell: listen pierre, just pass his receptionist’s phone number on to us, we’ll take care of it for you.

Tanhauser: take care of what, what are we offering?

Powell: a deal, bro.

Escoffier: I’m not sure I follow.

Escoffier: If I give you the number of my father and have you schedule an appointment so you can nag him about some wacky revolting sculpture and waste his time doing business transactions and ruling secret societies, you’ll do what?

Powell: free commission for u. you guys are secretive and anomalous, just the way i like it.

Powell: you see, im not willing to join in some rural village dicking around with tumors in the village of bumfuck russia and people like your dad aren’t exactly welcoming to non blackbloods. but your ideas of will and sacrifice, is there no greater theme in art? think of the great painters and sculptors throughout history, how many of them have essentially achieved godhood already? all idolized above the masses.

Palicki: we’re a splinter collective, just a few anartists playing with nälkä beliefs and capable enough to find out the hidden truth.

Tanhauser: Like the renaissance painters used christianity, yeah.

Escoffier: Why me? I’m not that active in the cult anymore. I haven’t gone to an orgy in many years, and am basically living a normal life. I don’t murder, I don’t spread disease, nothing. I’m finished. There at least a dozen other Karcists scattered across the world in positions of power who are more accepting of street artists anyway.

Powell: at the bar that night, you were talking about tintin. about you being so angry at your father because you drifted away and he refused to accept it. you being inspired to draw and write and not wanting to control the world. cliche, yes? but, for you it’s true.

Powell: we have a deal. there is a way you can embrace your loves and fix your broken world, but that can connect you with your father, your religion. let you embrace Ion once again. i may not be a karcist, not even a zend, but i know a thing or two.

Powell: how’d you like to summon a dead klavigar?

(The next message was sent roughly fifteen minutes later.)

Escoffier: What did you have in mind?

Taken from Escoffier's journal. Date unknown.

I am a wretch.

My parents, my gods have abandoned me. Fuck you Ion. I didn't deserve this, this guilt that hangs over me. My obsessions, my loves, they prevent me from following in Your path, the path of my father. I have disgraced him.

I was led astray by those who wished to only gain access to you. To usurp my father for their own, selfish, ends. They don't belong among the followers of yours. They are not pious. I was selfish and like a child and even though I hated them so much I gave in. I tried to do right, to use my own beliefs to reconnect with you, with my father. To reconcile the two loves of my life. It's no use. They scream on the page, half aborted, my angels. My beautiful ligne claire angels.

Forgive me daddy. And Yaldabaoth help us all.

page revision: 16, last edited: 29 Nov 2016 18:18
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