SCP-841: MimicrySCP – 841: Mimicry
Literature commission for IzzyMarrie
Test log G
T-841-G1: Testing room sterilized from previous incident in time for next D-class Subject to begin next experiment. Fragments of 841 placed on metal examination table with single empty chair for Subject with heavy plastic wrap intact. Rubber medical gloves laid out on chair seat for Subject to use to unwrap 841 fragments. Unwrapping completed after mild hesitation from Subject. End of session.
T-841-G2: Subject given rubber medical gloves again to reassemble 841 fragments. Took longer than expected; this D-class Subject is not the most competent. Extra twine had to be given for the original supply kept breaking from Subject’s force and frustration. 841 completely intact. End of session.
T-841-G3: 841 left intact for next session. Rubber medical gloves supplied again. Subject to sit at examination table and interact with 841 while wearing gloves. Subject quizzical as to the seeming harmlessness of 84
A Moment of Solace: GarrusXFem!ShepardA Moment of Solace: GarrusXFem!Shepard
Commission by Kjdragon
Commander Jane Shepard woke up with a jolt, sitting up straight in bed in a cold sweat. Her fists were clenched and her breaths were short and huffed. She sighed when she realized; just another dream. Another awful dream. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes and running a hand through her dampened hair, she looked over to see Garrus at her bedside.
“You’re still here..?”
“I said I’d keep you company, even though you fell asleep..” He nodded, shrugging slightly before he gave her a concerned look, “You had another dream, didn’t you…”
Jane nodded with an annoyed and tired sigh. “Stupid nightmares…”
“If you would just talk about what’s bothering you, that might stop...”
“If it was really nothing, you wouldn’t be having nightmares…” Garrus gave her a
Lost ConnectionLost Connection
Literature commissioned by Ruuma
I’ve been calling for hours now.
Nothing but static and that busy signal meet my ears.
And when I finally get through,
When I hear breath on the other line,
It’s cut short by a harsh click and an irritable dial tone.
Maybe it’s for the best.
Maybe I should quit trying,
Shouldn’t get my hopes up, now should I?
No, probably not.
I know it won’t end as well as I want it to.
I guess you could tell that it was me,
From the chocked up voice and stifled sigh.
Half of me is glad you didn’t respond.
I don’t think I would have been able to give an intelligible reply.
But the other half…
The half that shakily pressed each buttoned number on this old house phone,
That half wanted to hear your voice, even if I couldn’t respond.
I know we can’t go back to how it was.
I just wanted a bittersweet taste to maybe dull the ache.
But with no answer, I just hold an empty pho
10: - Pending
16: - Pending
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