SELECTED SEGMENT LOG

AIR DATE: 01/14/2023

NOTE: Recorded segment of "Tides of Change", Episode I - "Spare Some Change?"

SYNOPSIS:Learn about the fundamental necessity of change in the world around us! Meanwhile, Krillip McCallister, former convict, receives a chance at change for the better, though it is no small task for this jumbo shrimp who just wants to turn his life around.

[BEGIN LOG]

<Camera view opens to a vibrant wide-angle shot of a coral reef. Marine life in a great variety of colors and species can be seen milling about.>

ATTENBOROUGH: This coral reef has existed for centuries, which is longer than you or I could ever comprehend. Even on such a small timescale, human existence somehow manages to seemfar more insignificant. I'm David Attenborough, and if you're listening to my voice right now, it means I have yet to free my consciousness from Vikander-Kneed's network broadcast systems.

<Sounds of water and bubbles are heard as the camera zooms through an open patch of ocean, the liquid a deep cerulean.>

ATTENBOROUGH: You know, they say that when we die, our atoms become more aware than ever before. That consciousness never truly leaves the body, only spreading thin and blanketing our surroundings like fine dew on a summer morning. It's a beautiful thing to consider, wouldn't you agree?

<A school of Mackerel swim across the screen in a coordinated fashion.>

ATTENBOROUGH: All order arises from disorder, and the reverse is true as well. Change is the only constant. In all my experiences and travels, nothing has been more universal in its inescapability. Things become whole, things fall apart.

<A pile of car batteries corrode in unison from under the surface of a shallow inlet.>

ATTENBOROUGH: Eventually, our bodies will cease function, but we will live on, eternally, within them.

<A whale carcass rots on the seabed floor, picked apart by hundreds of organisms in a time-lapse.>

ATTENBOROUGH: The tragic irony of this sentiment is that I possess no form; My body is not one with my soul, though I often wonder what it gets up to without me there!<Chuckles.>³

<Seagulls steal detritus from the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. An octopus glides effortlessly through shimmering, clear water.>

ATTENBOROUGH: Much like how our atoms spread across this vast, blue marble, so too do the millions of microplastics you have ingested spread themselves throughout your physiology, unceasing in their assimilation.

Click to enlarge.

✖

<A serene panning shot of open water in all directions. The camera stops, while text reading "HELP ME" appears in bright red for a few seconds. See image.>

ATTENBOROUGH: And just like those atoms, singling out the incalculable quantities of permachemicals found within your bodies and already inside the brains of your unborn fetuses remains an insurmountable task.

<A rocky beach with overcast skies is displayed. A couple can be seen, visibly distressed by the rocks under their bare feet.>

ATTENBOROUGH: All are destined to return to the Earth, to become one with its majesty. These chemicals are similarly destined to infuse themselves within our very essence, to change us in all manner of subtle, magnificent, and unknowable ways.

<A sea turtle struggles to free itself from a plastic six-pack yoke.>

ATTENBOROUGH: Never mind all that now, this one performs best when no one is watching.

<Scene cuts to another coral reef, vivid and picturesque, which speeds up over a few seconds, becoming an assault of colors and motion.>

ATTENBOROUGH: Within the span of millions of years, Earth's oceanic biomes have endured countless shifts and iterations.

<A series of quick jump cuts filmed from underwater, first of an open and empty sea, then of phytoplankton flitting through green-hued water. Following this, a clip of unknown ancient marine megafauna mingling in dark waters. Next, a red sky as the ocean boils. Many screams of unknown variety are heard. The last clip shows a calm, endless forest of kelp. White noise builds from silence and ceases abruptly.>

ATTENBOROUGH: This is the way of things, I do believe.

<An oil platform succumbs to structural failure, following a series of synchronized explosions throughout the location. A small marquee scrolls along the bottom of screen, reading "REENACTMENT — DO NOT ATTEMPT WITHOUT PROPER SAFETY EQUIPMENT".>

ATTENBOROUGH: Oftentimes, these changes occur as a result of human affairs.

<Spilled oil catches fire on an ocean surface, burning towards a floating structure labelled "Maritime Orphanage". Sounds of panic emit from an unknown source.>

ATTENBOROUGH: Sometimes, they occur in an instant, too great and sudden to appreciate their beauty.

<A violent flash as a meteor collides with the ocean.>

ATTENBOROUGH: Other times, change occurs over hundreds of years, too subtle and slow to appreciate, all the same.

<Polar bears huddle on a single floating piece of sea ice as it wobbles precariously.>

ATTENBOROUGH: Life adapts through evolutionary processes or it does not survive. Though, there are some things that work at their own pace, even as the rest of the world changes to a different tune.

<Time-lapse of our ancient primate ancestors evolving into Homo sapiens sapiens.The modern human is holding a gun to its own head.>

ATTENBOROUGH: Regardless, the concerns of one are the concerns of all others, despite that which may be debated online. The recurrent processes of life are only as stable as the links that hold them together.

<Scene cuts back to the previous reef. Camera begins to slowly zoom in on an unremarkable patch of dying coral.>

ATTENBOROUGH: So, while this storyis about the progression of macro-scale marine ecology, you'll come to find the individual players have much more crucial parts to play in the lives of their community.<Distant gunshot.> And even for those whom resist change, change still comes, eventually—often when you'd least expect it.

<An amateur scene transition resembling rippling water executes, fading with a jazzy flourish into an interior set. The building has been constructed inside a large, hollowed-out brain coral, the walls a light, brutalist gray, resembling concrete. Bars can be seen on the windows in the background. Entering frame right is SCP-6549, wearing a black and white striped hat, "dragging" a floating ball and chain in tow.>

ATTENBOROUGH: This is Krillip McCallister, former serial arsonist and incarcerated felon. He's about to become a former incarcerated felon, a rather big day for him.

<SCP-6549 looks around for some implied indicator as to where it should be headed, spotting said indicator off-camera to the left. As SCP-6549 swims, the camera pans alongside it, revealing a series of front desks and doors.>

ATTENBOROUGH: And, while Krillip isn't the smartest nor most well-liked member of the community, heis one-of-a-kind—the sole surviving member of his species. He's also not so different from you or I, believe it or not. For example, he and I are both in a prison of sorts. Though, one of us is being released far sooner than the other, from the look of things.

<SCP-6549 glides up to a series of stanchions, which form a pathway to the front desk. A large sign can be seen, reading "YOU DON'T HAVE TO GO HOME, BUT YOU CAN'T STAY HERE." View cuts to directly in front of SCP-6549 where the entity's expressionless eyes gaze, askew, into the camera. The shot cuts again, this time to behind the entity, who is implied to be staring at the word "HOME" with bittersweet wistfulness.>

ATTENBOROUGH: Oh, this isn't right.Please let me out of here. Lord almighty, we'restill in episode one? Time—Time is meaningless! I have to doten of these?

<A sound like a whip cracks through the air. Attenborough is heard yelping.>

ATTENBOROUGH:Ow! You don't need to be so antediluvian— Hey! No!Back off. I'll do the damn thing, just- give me a moment.<Breathes.> From the last lines.

<A pause. SCP-6549 floats motionless, aside from the ambient flapping keeping it in place.>

ATTENBOROUGH: Krillip is not so different from you or I, believe it or not. For example, he and I are both in a prison of sorts. Though, one of us is being released far sooner than the other, from the look of things.

ATTENBOROUGH: And just likeyou, he's currently being watched by hundreds of strangers via the product of cameras placed strategically throughout the location.

<SCP-6549 swims up to the front desk, where a sea cucumber wearing a guard's outfit lays atop its surface, trying desperately to leave the set. An object is briefly visible from frame left, prodding the "guard" back into position. Cut to a document being stamped by a human dressed like a sea cucumber, dressed like a prison guard. Camera cuts back. SCP-6549 wriggles out of its ball and chain, hat coming off in the process. The entity is given a small box of personal effects from off-camera via a rod and hook, which SCP-6549 allows to be lowered onto its back. It then glides out the doors and into a bright white light, likely representing unknown possibilities, almost dropping the box in the process.>

ATTENBOROUGH: And as with all of us, the engine of fate remains uncertain in its design and destination. For wily Krillip here, however, the odds are certainly against him. Recidivism rates in this particular reef are higher than one might expect, so we can only hope it will be this future fossil's final foray into the corrections system. Does he have what it takes? Find out where his new journey takes him, after these messages. We're rooting for you, buddy!

<Cuts to commercial.>

[END LOG]

RELEVANT COMMUNICATIONS LOG

DATE: 02/10/2023, 2:29 AM GMT-4.

NOTE: The exact breadth of inciting factors behind the decision to remove SCP-6549 from "Tides of Change" is not known. However, the morning after the firing reportedly took place, VKTM Public Relations liaison Mari MacPhaerson received a threatening phone call from a Foundation-monitored payphone near Halifax, Nova Scotia, which has provided some insight into the events of that day in particular. SCP-6549 is suspected to have been involved in this communication, which has been transcribed below.

[BEGIN LOG]

MACPHAERSON:<Groggily.> Hello?

<A wet, sloshing noise, followed by heavy breathing and chittering.>

MACPHAERSON: Anyone there?<Pauses.> Goddamn Pranklings. Stop calling me! That curse was illegitimate and you know it—⁴

UNKNOWN:<Voice speaks in a high pitch, though the tone is gravely serious.> Mari. It's me. We need to talk.

MACPHAERSON:<Pauses.> Phil—?

UNKNOWN:<Gurgling. The sounds of traffic can be heard.>

MACPHAERSON:<Sighs.> You can't just call me at two-thirty in the morning whenever you'd like. We're no longer colleagues, and whatever relationship we had, business orotherwise, doesn't exist anymore—

UNKNOWN:<A wet sound akin to suction, accompanied by a cracking noise. Later inspection of the payphone found the receiver's casing had been partially crushed.> Look, I know. I know you think I'm being unreasonable. Just… Hear me out, okay?

MACPHAERSON: Youshattered a stagehand's femur yesterday, I think anyone can see that's pretty unreasonable, yeah. I don't even have eyes and I can see that.

UNKNOWN:<A loud bang.> It'snot unreasonable! How come the fucking narrator gets his own trailer, huh? A fucking Airstream! I deserve my own Airstream! I deserve an assistant. Theyneed me!You need me!

MACPHAERSON: Well, the producers don't exactly agree, now do they? Plus, David's accommodations are non-corporeal, they're more figurative than literal; we just called his trailer an Airstream becauseit is intangible! The cost is a fraction, not even considering we don't pay him—

UNKNOWN: It wasmy face on the poster, Mari. My talent that springboarded us to fame,Mari. What, do you think it was all because of that hack, Appleborough—

MACPHAERSON: Attenborough.

UNKNOWN:I don't care what his name is! I want a second chance. You need to talk to someone, or things could get out of hand.<Loud rustling.>

MACPHAERSON: The way you're behaving right now is part of the problem, Phil.<Yawning.> You're not Ryan Gosling, trying to pull off your magnum opus; you're an uncredited ancestral arthropod in the B plot of a nature documentary with like five hundred weekly viewers. Frankly, one of the worst-performing VKTM programs in recent history—

UNKNOWN:<Dryly.> What did you just say?

MACPHAERSON: Oh, come on, you should know that documentaries aren't the most popular of content these days—

UNKNOWN: No— Did you just say I'm the fuckingB plot of 'Tides of Change'?

MACPHAERSON:One of the characters from the B plot.

UNKNOWN: But- I thought—

MACPHAERSON: Phil, have you watched an episode of the show? Like,at all?

UNKNOWN:<Indistinct splashing.> Yeah, I skimmed them. The documentary parts are boring. Besides, I've been busy. Preparing for each shoot. Memorizing my lines—

MACPHAERSON:You don't have any lines, Phil!

UNKNOWN: Oh, I see what's going on here. This is all Tony's fuckin' fault. That bean counter probably gave us so little budget, knowing we'd blow it all on the nice stock footage and that old codger, so there wouldn't be enough left over for my amenities, right? He was always jealous of me, trying to undermine my career…

MACPHAERSON: What 'career'? You're being ridiculous. You need to move on. From the project, and from—this.

UNKNOWN: You- You thinkI- should-<A pause, followed by a deep breath. The voice becomes unusually calm.> You know what, you're right, Mari. You're always right.

MACPHAERSON: I am, yes. I'm going back to bed now. Good night, Phil.

UNKNOWN: Good night. I'm sorry—

<MacPhaerson hangs up the call on her end.>

UNKNOWN: —Sorry that I'm not sorry! Not sorry! You glorified fucking primate.<Mockingly.> 'Oh, look at me, I can walk upright! I've got phalanges that evolved to grip tools and stabilize me while Isleep in a fucking tree like a fucking idiot!' Evolved. Please.<Pauses.> We'll see about that, won't we?

PAYPHONE:If you'd like to make a call, please hang up and try again. If you need help, please hang up and dial your operator. Thank you!

UNKNOWN:<Loudly.>FUCK YOU AND YOUR WHOLE SPECIES!

<Individiual is heard grunting, followed by multiple loud impacts as the phone is presumably thrown at its cradle in an attempt to hang up the call. Communication ceases shortly thereafter.>

[END LOG]

SCP-6549 INITIAL INTAKE TRANSCRIPT

DATE: 06/23/2023

NOTE: SCP-6549 was obtained by the Foundation upon its arrest earlier that day. The following is a brief transcript of the initial interview between SCP-6549 and the Assistant Director of Site-184's Aquatic Anomalies Department, Elise Beauchêne, with a member of security personnel present for a portion of the interaction.

[BEGIN LOG]

<Lavalier microphone switches on. Beauchêne is seen on CCTV, pulling out a chair and sitting down at the metal table in front of her, sighing absentmindedly. Approximately thirty seconds later, there's a knock on the chamber door.>

BEAUCHÊNE:Mouais. You can come in. Leave it on the table.

<A member of security personnel is enters, grunting as a heavy object is placed on the hard surface.>

PERSONNEL: Back up.<A pause, followed by the sound of scraping as Beauchêne is seen pushing her chair back with her legs.> Good enough. First, I advise against opening the container yourself. Get like, three more people in here. Make sure you're all padded up, 'cause this thing nearly got us a few times on recovery. Second thing—

BEAUCHÊNE: Wait, 'got you', how, exactly?

PERSONNEL: Look, just don't say I didn't warn you. This thing is not the hermit crab your mother buys you from the boardwalk.<Pauses.> With all due respect.

BEAUCHÊNE: You didn't answer my question.

PERSONNEL: Well, we—

<The container is heard moving as a loud, muffled bang emanates from within.>

PERSONNEL:<Clears throat.> We don't really know. At least, we disagree on what we saw.I'm certain it was trying to impale us with one of those spindly legs it has, while Higgins swears he saw it pull a switchblade—

BEAUCHÊNE: Aswitchblade?

PERSONNEL: I said the same thing, but it's way more plausible if you've read the reports. You did read the reports, right? That was the second thing.

BEAUCHÊNE: No, I only just learned we were getting an angry, five-hundred-million-year-old shrimp the size of a small dog, like, half an hour ago? I've been getting the containment area set up, not much time to brief myself on this, I'm afraid.

PERSONNEL: Got it. Well, the international intelligence community has been tracking a string of murders, clear crimes of passion. The last few had the same MO; Bullet hole through the head, point blank, aiming downward, you know. Assassination-style, real clean. Now, unbeknownst to the authorities, all the victims were connected via association with VKTM.

PERSONNEL:<Indicating towards contrainer.> This thing here had a strong argument against it for motive, as you'll read. Disgraced VKTM actor with unchecked anger issues who got the axe for being a diva and attacking staff in a fit of rage. Yet, every death involved was impossible for a creature of this nature. Not without some anomalous ability yet to be observed. Our measurements and diagnostics came back nominal.

BEAUCHÊNE: Bizarre.

PERSONNEL: Oh, it gets weirder. Earlier today, local police in Anaheim found this bad boy while responding to reports of gunshots. It was just sitting there next to the corpse of an, uh, executive producer of some documentary series. They also found a gun lying nearby, in a puddle of seawater. Forensics confirmed it was the murder weapon, despite the obvious lack of thumbs, so our little friend here seems to have gotten sloppy.

<Container shakes violently, followed by loud gurgling.>

BEAUCHÊNE:Qu'est-ce que c'est?! Sounds like distilled anger being strained through cheese cloth. How often does it make thosegodawful noises?

PERSONNEL: All the time. Constantly. Some are saying it should be able to speak English, but the thing hasn't said a word since police picked it up. Maybe it thinks keeping quiet will somehow be of help to it in the long run. Maybe it gets an interpreter, who knows.<Raps knuckles on the solid steel of the box, contents responding with more aggression.>

BEAUCHÊNE:<Sighs.> Well, I'm glad containment is up and running for this…thing already. I'll have an auto-feeder added in soon, so none of us have to go near it unless absolutely necessary. Maybe soundproof the chamber, too. Or is that too big a risk?

PERSONNEL: Do what you want, I'm heading back to the States. Just remember; I warned you. And read the dossier.

BEAUCHÊNE: Mhm. Bye now.

PERSONNEL: See you.

<Security personnel leaves the room. The box emits muffled snarls at the sound of the closing door swinging shut.>

BEAUCHÊNE: So, what to do with you…

<Wet clicks and chitters. Beauchêne skims the briefing on her phone.>

BEAUCHÊNE: Hmph. I don't buy it. Not only do I think you can talk, I think it probably pains you not to. You're a celebrity, right? Don't celebrities let the fame get to their heads? They think everyone wants to hear them talk. That everything revolves around them. Then, they lose it all in a series of misguided, self-absorbed acts that benefit no one.

<Container rattles. A bang is heard, though the box is unaffected.>

BEAUCHÊNE: Am I close? Did I hit a nerve? You lost it all, including your relationships, I bet.

<A series of bangs are registered. CCTV shows the box is intact, albeit bent outwards in multiple spots.>

BEAUCHÊNE: Were you being a bit of a—

<Beauchêne quietly leans close to the container.>

BEAUCHÊNE:<Whispering.> —Selfish shellfish?

SCP-6549:<Screaming, box audibly moving from the raucous activity within.>YOU BITCH! YOU FUCKING DID IT NOW! I'll kill you! Reducing my existence to a bad pun? You are going to regret having legs! Lemme out!

<Entity continues to attack the inside of its container. It throws itself against the side with a large bang that knocks the box off the table and onto the concrete below. It hits the floor on one of the two hinges securing the release hatch, which dislodges one and bends the other.>

BEAUCHÊNE:<Standing, tripping backwards over her jacket, which had fallen off the back of her chair in the commotion.> Ow. I—Damn. I hate it when I'm right.

<SCP-6549 chuckles and pries the hatch open, floating out with ease, eyes glowing white.>

SCP-6549: It's time for me to finally become the main character of this world. Then, they'll take me back. She'll have to take me back.

BEAUCHÊNE:<Scrambling back further, away from SCP-6549, and the exit.> You don't have to do this—

SCP-6549: Step one,eliminate all competition,starting with you.

BEAUCHÊNE: No-!<She braces herself, covering her face from the approaching barbs.>

<Silence. After a moment, Beauchêne lowers her hands to see SCP-6549 mesmerized by a flashing red light in the upper corner of the chamber.>

SCP-6549: Wait, have we been recording this entire time?! I think I missed a cue.

BEAUCHÊNE: Y-yeah? Yes! This is a live broadcast. Why did you think we had our driver come pick you up specifically? You've been selected to be play the protagonist. This is your real rise to stardom.

SCP-6549:<Overjoyed gurgling.> Some part of me always knew. And no B plots?

BEAUCHÊNE: Nope. This show doesn't need a B plot. Too much intrigue.

SCP-6549:<Chitters> Well, I'm in!

BEAUCHÊNE: We've also anticipated your arrival and have set up personal quarters for your use. Since you will be working so closely with the project, you should stay on-site—er, on-set.

<SCP-6549 looks away from the camera.>

SCP-6549: Huh? My own trailer… It's finally happening… Thank you.

BEAUCHÊNE: Let's get you settled.

The remainder of conversation has been redacted from this document for brevity. SCP-6549 is generally more passive and cooperative when entertaining its delusions. Other applications for the use of this technique are being researched.⁵

[END LOG]