[Canon is the SCP Foundation. For Ink City's 4th Wall Event.] Commencing epic fail in 3...

[amajorchord]

So you're asking yourself: "What the fuck am I doing?" Which is the multimillion dollar question here. But whatever it is, the answer is no.

Honestly, you should have something better to do with your time than Photoshop a third eye onto a man who looks nothing like me for an event that's a month away.

[It sounds bad when you say it like that. Besides, it's your fault for having three eyes in the first place.]

Hey. Don't hate me because I have dubious properties attributed to myself.

Comments

Neck snapping all over this place!

[amajorchord]

Apparently, you haven't seen me painted like a French girl.

As long as he doesn't claim to be Satan again...

[nagant]

... [That earns a full-body shudder of revulsion.] Ugh. Pass.

Does quoting the Rolling Stones count?

[amajorchord]

I had a feeling that would be your reaction.

"Pleased to meet you..."

[nagant]

Smart man. Either that, or you're a psycher. -Means mind-reader.

"I'm a man of wealth and taste~"

[amajorchord]

How'd you know? Oh, next you're going to guess how I grew up in the wilds of Russia and survived the end of World War II by lying about my age and working in the concentration camps before illegally immigrating to England.

Aah, great, now that's gonna be stuck in my head all night.

[nagant]

The hells is a "Russia"? And if you fought in some giant war, you look free of bullet holes. And scars. Sorry, I ain't buying it.

You're welcome!

[amajorchord]

I like you. You're not gullible.

Although how you've never heard of the largest continent on the planet Earth is a bit beyond me.

[nagant]

[Snort.] I investigate crazy shit for a living. If I were gullible, I'd've died years ago.

'Cause I ain't from your neck of the woods, so to speak.

[amajorchord]

Right. Extraterrestrial, I assume?

[nagant]

You mean "are you human"? 'Cause the answer is "no duh, of course I am".

[amajorchord]

Ahuh. This will be something to investigate.

[nagant]

[That just earns a (rather impressive) "bitch r u serious" face.]

What'd ya want? Blood? Want me to poke myself with a sewing needle, prove that I've got red blood? Breathe on a mirror and prove I'm not a rev?

[amajorchord]

Clearly, this is your first time dealing with the Foundation.

[nagant]

Clearly. I've never heard of your Foundation. But if it's even a quarter like the Gunner's Guild, then we got something in common. -Much as I hate saying that. ['Cause you creep the utter hell out of Nagant, Clef.]

We both bust some seriously crazy shit. Things that won't stay dead. Things that bend the rules of what's supposed to be possible.

[amajorchord]

[Well, that's good. He's supposed to do that.]

...You don't happen to have a list of things a certain member of this Guild of yours is no longer allowed to do because he's crazy enough to try them in the first place, do you?

[nagant]

[Mission accomplished!]

...We got a list of shit Wrecker's not allowed to do anymore, but it's less "crazy enough to try" and more "terrible property damage and angry mobs happen when he tries". That count?

[amajorchord]

It's... close. Hmm.

[nagant]

...Oh-ho. I know that kind of "hmm". Bryco makes that when she's drawing connections. What're you thinking about?

[amajorchord]

Many-a things. We at the Foundation are very aware than other organizations may exists that are like ours. I just didn't expect to find one so casually.

Then again, I never expect to wake up and find pizza delivery men at the gates of the Foundation, either.

[nagant]

Well, hate to break your streetlight, pal, but when the dead start not staying dead and reality starts not playing by the hells-damned rules, somebody's gotta deal with it.

...Yeah, deliv-men tend to show up at the most random times.

[amajorchord]

Oh, I know. It kind of helps to sink in when you're immortal yourself and one of your researchers is currently in the body of an orangutan.

It really doesn't help that we're supposed to be secret. Nor does it help the occasional fantasy of running through the hallways slicing everyone to ribbons with a straight razor.

[nagant]

[Whut.] ...You lost me. You're what and somebody else is stuck as a what?!

Yeah, uh, better not say that kinda thing out loud. People tend to shun you.

[amajorchord]

It's a long story. You learn not to ask questions after a while.

Say what out loud?