TRutherford:StorminaTeacup

SCP-4991

Item #: SCP-4991

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: The construction trailer containing SCP-4991 has been re-located to an Safe-class storage unit at Site-53. No future testing has been scheduled.

Description: SCP-4991 is a porcelain coffee cup, printed with "01-587-0560" in orange, and "TOTAL POWER TOOLS" in black, separated by an angled orange stripe. The bottom of SCP-4991 has been broken. An off-yellow residue covers most of the cup, but due to SCP-4991's anomalous nature, determining this residue's exact composition is impossible; multiple researchers have confirmed it smells like minestrone soup.

SCP-4991 cannot be physically interacted with. Once a person has made any conscious decision about SCP-4991, all resultant actions towards it will fail through human error. Repeated attempts to interact with SCP-4991 will result in heightened levels of stress, and cause directionless outbursts.

SCP-4991 was discovered after the accidental suicide of Mr. Henry Weissmuller, former owner of the "Total Power Tools" company.

15/07/1992 - SCP-4991 Object History / Discovery Log

23/09/1992 - SCP-4991 - Test Log

TEST 01
Subject:	D-39492
Parameters:	D-39492 is asked to pick up SCP-4991.
Results:	D-39492 stumbles forwards while trying to pick up SCP-4991. They attempt to pick up SCP-4991 again, but lean too far to one side, and fall over. They then get back to their feet, and attempt to pick up SCP-4991 again, but only manage to cut their right index finger on the outer rim. D-39492 then attempts to kick SCP-4991, missing by a wide margin, causing a minor pull in their thigh muscle.
Notes:	We've run this test with five other D-class, same result. We've confirmed SCP-4991 can technically be interacted with; it simply seems to exert some form of mental discombobulation.

TEST 02
Subject:	Researcher Jackson Walters
Parameters:	Researcher Walters will program a standard Foundation drone to pick up SCP-4991.
Results:	During the process of entering in commands, Researcher Walters repeatedly incorrectly entered keystrokes, forgot essential coding syntax, and caused a terminal crash while attempting to re-boot the program. After several hours, Reseacher Walters removed the terminal keyboard, and smashed it over the side of the desk.
Notes:	"Two other researchers, located in China and the Netherlands respectively, have tried to perform this test remotely. Both of them had never interacted with SCP-4991 before, or knew anything of it's effects. Same results, both times."

TEST 03
Subject:	Site-53 AI "ODWIN"
Parameters:	AI "ODWIN" is given the task of picking up SCP-4991.
Results:	Researcher Powell attempts several times to explain to AI "ODWIN" what the goal of this test is, but constantly fumbles her words. Written and coded communication suffer the same result. Researcher Powell begins knocking over furniture. AI "ODWIN" sends a recommendation to medical staff to have Researcher Powell examined.
Notes:	"No matter how far back in the decision-making process we go, the decision itself becomes affected by SCP-4991. Even trying to get someone else to unintentionally interact with it, say by having a D-class stumble blindfolded around the trailer, requires a conscious decision. It's… frustrating. I'm not sure if it's just project fatigue, or if I've also become affected by SCP-4991. It doesn't matter. We have our results. This is just another SCP we can lock away, and never have to worry about again.

21/03/2015 - ADDENDUM - URGENT UPDATE

ADDENDUM 02/03/2019, 14:19: Communication with site-53 is abruptly lost. Repeated attempts to contact personnel through alternative channels fail. Nearby outposts are alerted, and agents are dispatched.

ADDENDUM 02/03/2019, 15:59: Drone footage shows multiple fires throughout the complex. Full lockdown has been engaged. Despite triple-redundant relays, no communication of any kind has been received from Site-53, including automated alerts.

ADDENDUM 02/03/2019, 17:01: MTF-Rho-9 and MTF-Lambda-11 arrive and establish a perimeter. On-site fire suppression appears to be non-functional. Sections of the eastern complex begin to collapse. Hoses, aerial dousing, and condensed nitrogen are used to contain the blaze.

ADDENDUM 02/04/2019, 11:21: All fires are suppressed, and temperatures fall to minimum safe levels. MTF-Rho-9 "Crash and Burn" enter Site-53.

ADDENDUM 02/04/2019, 15:19: Full sweep complete. 319 personnel are reported lost. MTF-Rho-9 detail multitudes of unexplainable fatalities, including large groups of people clustered in enclosed labs instead of fire shelters, multiple deaths by bludgeoning and head trauma, and scores of individuals still inside their own, unlocked quarters.

ADDENDUM 02/04/2019, 15:36: MTF-Rho-9's communications fail. Shortly before, scattered reports of malfunctioning flashlights, mask filters, and scientific equipment are transmitted.

ADDENDUM 02/04/2019, 19:56: MTF-Rho-9 emerge from Site-53, carrying with them a single cadaver. Rho-9-1, Margret Chow, reports that team members became disoriented and irritated during the mission, having increased difficulty clearing debris and navigating the complex. Rho-9-4, during a brief period when they became separate from the unit, tripped over a fallen chair and unintentionally breached a glass containment cylinder, causing them to discover the body of Junior Researcher Dylan Baxter. Being uniquely preserved, Rho-9-4 chose to retrieve this corpse.

A knapsack was still present on Mr. Baxter when recovered. Multiple researchers tried, and failed to open this bag until the body was taken 1.8km away from Site-53. Contents included a foundation-issued laptop, several notebooks, and a single broken pencil.

EDIT: Re-write the story. Emphasize the "one little mistake ruining everything" sort of feeling. Get more personal with the diary.

04 LEVEL ACCESS REQUIRED

ACCESS GRANTED

…

$fractal-2614171_960_720.jpg$

MEMETIC PARALYZING AGENT ACTIVE.

Motor function should resume within 15-20 minutes. At this time, slowly move your gaze away from the screen. After 30 minutes of inactivity, your terminal will shut down.

Otherwise, please proceed.

Diary entries of Junior Researcher Dylan Baxter, Site-53 personnel, deceased. All content has been transcribed from it's original source.

Entry #1

Source: Laptop

Medium: Digital

I had my first fuckup today. I know, I know, It's my second week. I'm still learning. I've got to stop blaming myself for every little mistake.

The journal is helping. It's like Julia Dr. Robinson said, once I get these negative thoughts written down, I can look back and see how pointless unproductive they are. Nothing gets deleted, just struck out or explained. I have to own my thoughts. I have to accept them, and move past them. Otherwise I'm just wasting her time not improving. You can do it Dylan.

Alright. Today, I was taking inventory of the Safe-Class storage bay. 58 lockers. I swear locker 17 had an actual mummy inside it. I think it looked at me. Then, on to the units. The first door I opened had a whole trailer inside, like the kind they use on movie sets. The door was wide open so, yeah, I went inside.

Dumb idea, I know. As always, I was worried I'd screw up. I just kept hearing Director Warren's voice in my head saying "What do you mean you didn't check inside the trailer!? What, did you just peek under the door!? Now there's an anomaly on the loose!" Why did he have to be from Boston? Why does he have to sound exactly like my step-dad? I need to talk to Julia Julia stop it Doctor Robinson again. It's been too many weeks since my last session.
I had only taken a few steps inside the trailer when I heard it: CRUNCH. I look down and, yep, I broke something. I tried to wipe off my boot, but I was so nervous I just fell over backwards. I ran out of there, and sealed the unit back up.

I don't even know what "4991" does. If I bring up the dossier, my user activity will get logged on the SCPNET. I might as well just hang a a big "Guilty" sign on my forehead. It's 1:30am now, and I still can't sleep. As usual, I'm probably panicking over nothing. I didn't even put my name on the inspection log, and no one else had checked that unit in, like, four years. It's probably just a trailer that barks morse code during full moons, or turns into a pumpkin every day at midnight. Something mundane. Something benign.

It will be fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. It's fine. It was just a mug.

Entry #2

Source: Laptop

Medium: Digital

God, today sucked.

This morning I was so tired that I couldn't even button up my shirt. I tried, like, five times to get the third button to do up. It kept slipping out, or my fingers would keep fumbling it. I practically tore the shirt off I was so pissed! Which was dumb, because that was a nice shirt. I'm still wearing the "Big Fish" concert T I had under my lab coat all day. I'm glad Director Warrens didn't notice. It seemed like he was really out of it too. Everyone was, actually.

I saw Karren trying to click her pen for, like, 20 minutes in the lab today before she just tossed it back in her bag. It was weird. She's usually so level headed. Then I spotted one of the janitors practically pulling the knob off the door to the broom closet. I thought maybe he was just locked out, but he had one of those classic giant keyrings hanging off his belt.

I get it. It's near end of December. The end of year crunch is getting to everyone. Maybe I'll go to the Christmas party this year? Actually talk to people? Drink? Be normal? How hard would that be?

Entry #3

Source: Laptop

Medium: Digital

Wow. Somehow, today was an even bigger shitshow than yesterday.

All day long, people kept dropping stuff and bumping into each other in the halls. One of the lights burnt out in the lab, and FIVE maintenance guys were there trying to replace it. They kept breaking bulbs and screwing it in wrong! That wasn't even the worst of it; Jameson contaminated the latest batch of zygoplasm because, get this, he didn't screw the lids on right before putting them in the centrifuge! Rainbow gunk friggin everywhere! And Ha

Entry #4

Source: Notebook

Medium: Written, pencil

It's not just me. Something is happening.

My laptop crashed last night. This morning, when I went to go see IT, the line-up was right down the hall. I saw a bunch of people in suits walking around, talking really quietly. Later, Dr. Svengali was actually running down the corridor. Running. He's like 60.

When I finally got to the head of the line, they told me all the laptops had been signed out, or were totally broken. I was about to head to the lab when a bunch of security officers started telling people to head back to their rooms. Why didn't they just make an announcement over the PA?

Who knows, this might be my first containment breach. Know how I know I'm weird different? I'm sitting here calmly when a giant… plasma platapus or something is stomping around, but Researcher Lorrenz asks me to come out for drinks, and my heart hammers so hard it practically cracks a rib.

I really need another session.

Entry #5

Source: Notebook

Medium: Written, pencil

I keep hearing people running around outside. A few hours ago I thought I heard shouting.

I think it might be a chemical leak of some kind. I'm having trouble doing basic tasks. I can't even make the bed. The sheets keep getting tangled. I've gone through four five pencils writing this. None of my pens work.

I'm scared. It's fine. I'm fine. It's fine.

Entry #6

Source: Notebook

Medium: Written, pencil

I've done what DOCTOR ROBINSON suggested. I've been drawing fractal patterns. Free-form, just wherever my mind goes, draw it. It's helped. I've calmed down. I broke three more pencils though; good thing I grabbed a bunch of bulk packs from the supply room. I've always hated having to borrow a pen. I hate having to inflict myself on people Stop it. Act like an adult.

I went through the training manual I got on my first day, and lo and behold, there were steps for this kind of thing. I did a "perception check". Left eye, Right eye. Said the alphabet. Remembered my birthday. Counted my fingers. Listed my friends names (short list). Spun around a few times without blinking. All fine. I'm fine.

So, if it's not me, then it can only be… things? I don't know. If I'm fine, then it has to be the site itself. Process of elimination.

But what am I supposed to do now? Just sit here?… I mean, I guess I'm still on the clock, so I'll run some tests?

Entry #7

Source: Notebook

Medium: Written, pencil

I spilled two new packs of pencils out over the floor. 50 in a pack, 100 total. I tried picking them up 1 by 1. 91 of them were normal. 9 I kept having trouble gripping. I did a bunch of things with them: spinning them between my fingers, balancing them on my nose, stuff like that. The 9 "bad" pencils were more difficult to use for every task.

To be sure, I also spilled out the box of bandages I had in my bedside drawer. 70 in a pack. I couldn't peel open 6 of them.
So, from this admittedly small sample group, I'm guessing about 9% of everything is affected by… whatever this is. Progress.

Entry #8

Source: Notebook

Medium: Written, pencil

I'm using one of the pencils I broke. It's really cocking annoying. It keeps It keeps It keeps It keeps FUCKING BREAKING. I've sharpened this fucking this nine ten 11 12 13 14

Alright. I'm using another pencil. I can see the annoying one behind my desk. I threw it clear across the room. I don't think I've gotten that angry since, like, gradeschool. Fuck you Matt. Alright, I'm going to try and use it again.

Fuck you penc | Fuck you p | Fuck yo | Fuc y |

I've drawn lines between my attempts. It kept breaking more quickly, and writing with it kept getting more annoying and irritating. Definitely cumulative, definitely exponential. One more attempt.

I can't even pick it up now.

I can't pick up this stupid nub of a pencil. It's impossible. I can't even touch it. Even trying is making me want to rip out my own hair.

What is going on.

Entry #9

Source: Notebook

Medium: Written, pencil

I spun around in my desk chair until I started feeling sick. Don't worry, this is incredibly scientific.

I've been re-tracing my steps. Whatever this is, It starts right from square one. It starts right when I actually decide to do something, before I even attempt it. So, I figured, if I just make myself super dizzy, and not really try and do anything beyond stumbling around, maybe the affect won't trigger?

Entry #10

Source: Notebook

Medium: Written, pencil

I stepped on the asshole pencil. I've got graphite in my foot. It really fucking hurts. Theory confirmed, but fuck you science.

I tried the floor pencils again. I'm having trouble picking up 17 of them now.

It's getting worse.

Entry #11

Source: Notebook

Medium: Written, pencil

I can't open the door to my room.

The more I try, the worse I get at it. I think I broke a finger when I punched the door.

26 pencils now.

Entry #12

Source: Notebook

Medium: Written, pencil

38 pencils.

Nothing is working.

There's a bunch of people screaming in the hallway. I think one of the overhead pipes burst. I can hear the rushing water. The alarms aren't going off though. There's no announcements. Just people shouting and running and screa
I broke another pencil.

Entry #13

Source: Notebook

Medium: Written, pencil

46 pencils

I can't think of more tests. I'm too tired. I'm too anxious. I can't touch anything.

I tried breaking open the door by shoulder-checking it.

I hit the lightswitch.

I can't flick it back on. I have to write this with a flashlight in my mouth.
@@
@@
@@
@@
@@
@@
@@
I just heard gunshots.

Entry #14

Source: Notebook

Medium: Written, pencil

There's some blood under my door. The whole room smells like copper. I think this is it. I've heard of sites having to Someone will come rescue us. I hope they show up soon.

50 pencils. Half of everything is broken.

Entry #15

Source: Notebook

Medium: Written, pencil

I'M OUT.

Someone crashed through my door about an hour ago. He was running from a pissed off security guy. He must have slipped in the blood. I didn't wait. I stuffed the last of the pencils in my bag and ran. I don't know what happened to that guy. I don't even know who he was. I didn't know his name. I'm usually good with names.

He had red hair. He shouted "please".

I'm in the cafeteria now. There's a bunch of people here, and the security guys seem chill. I mean, they say they're security guys. A lot of them are wearing civilian clothing. Either way, nobody is freaking out, and we've got food. Some. Most of the fridges wouldn't open. Ditto for the freezer. Nobody wants to risk using the stoves, so we're all eating cold beans.

It seems to be affecting everyone. More than half the benches and tables here are impossible to use. You just slip, or fall when trying to sit down, or use them at all. We have to share can openers. One of the guys nearly sliced his finger off.

My old notebook wouldn't open. It kept tearing when I tried, so I just put it in my bag. I'm my lab book now. If I make it out of this, I'm going to frame every page.

Oh, 61 pencils now. Gotta keep track. Write it down. It helps.

Entry #16

Source: Notebook

Medium: Written, pencil

Fuck. Fuck me sideways. Fuck me sideways with a pinch of pepper and a lemon zest over a medium saucepan FOR TWELVE MINUTES A SIDE. YOU FUCK UP. YOU WORTHLESS FUCKING
@@
@@
@@
@@
Director Warrens showed up in the Cafeteria. He started screaming at me. He'd been running tests too. He noticed a coloration between what's been going on, and what one of our SCP's does.

It was the mug.

It was me.

I fucked everything up again. Breathe.

When I broke that mug, which was 4991 apparently, I guess it's effects… spilled out? I don't know how that's possible. Director Warrens know either, but that didn't stop him from shouting at me in front of everyone. They're all still staring at me. I can feel it. It's my fault. It's my fault. God it was just a mug! Just a mug! It was just a mug! It was

Director Warrens is over with a group of security guys now. They keep looking at me.

I need to get out of here.

Entry #17

Source: Lab Notebook

Medium: Written, pencil

A different group of security guys showed up.

They had guns. The ones that didn't had batons. The ones that didn't had… whatever they could still pick up and crack skulls with.

They were pissed.

They were talking shouting about wanting to smash their way into the armory, get a bunch of explosives, and break out of the building. They said they were sick of being stuck in here. It wasn't even about survival, or even fear. They didn't look crazy or anything, they just seemed… annoyed. Like they didn't want to deal with anyone else. Like everything was going wrong and they just wanted it all to end. I know the feeling.

Dr. Warren tried to talk them down. He explained about 4991. He was saying we just needed to stay calm and wait for rescue.

One of the security guys tried to shoot him. I don't know if he meant to, or he was twitchy or what but… we all heard the click.

The gun didn't go off.

Then everyone just sort of… threw themselves at each other. There were some actual gunshots, but it was mostly punching and screaming and crashing.

I ran.

Most of the doors I tried- well, I tried. A lot of them had people inside. They shouted at me. They were begging to be let out. The doors weren't even locked. I just couldn't grab the doorknobs. A lot of them were crying. There was laughing behind one of the doors. I heard crunching noises behind another.

I wonder if this affects the SCPs. I wonder if the containment cells are still working.

I'm fine.

Entry #18

Source: Lab notebook

Medium: Written, pencil

Last pencil.

I had to run. My bag spilled out. All my food. My flashlight. My pencils. There was something at the end of the hall. It was big. I'm in a stairwell. I can still hear it. I can't stop writing. Not now. If I stop wr

Entry #19

Source: Lab notebook

Medium: Written, blood

no pencil

blood with finger

body not affected

use body

keep writing

keep writing

JULIA said keep writing JULIA SAID JULIA

door breaking

S C P not affected

Entry #20

Source: Notebook

Medium: Written, blood

inside tube

plexiglass

thing could not break it

it looked at me for hours

it had red eyes

it left

tube wont open

lab book is slippery

no air

cant holD notbOOK

it waS j

Entry #21

Source: Glass tube interior surface

Medium: Written, blood

IT WAS JUST A MUG JULIA

ADDENDUM 01/07/2019: The affect radius of the SCP-4991 breach has been confirmed to extend 1.6km - 1.8km from the center of Site-53. A full quarantine perimeter has been established using the "Hazardous radiation area" cover. Full reclassification and dossier revision of SCP-4991 has been scheduled.

To date, none of the SCP's previously contained at Site-53 have been observed.

Discussion Comments:

"What happened to Site-13?"

"A wide-scale containment breach of multiple godlike entities, caused by a complex, global paradigm shift that culminated in a trans-dimensional displacement."

"What happened to Site-31?

"Someone broke a mug."

A storm in a teacup - A disproportionate reaction of anger, concern, or displeasure over some minor or trivial matter. Also known as a "tempest in a teapot"

I came upon this idiom while researching for another article, having never heard it before. I'm not sure how many other people experience this, but sometimes, after a minor inconvenience, I become preoccupied, and the next task I attempt also becomes botched. Until I stop, take a breath, and steady myself, I well just fumble any minor task and grow progressively more irritated.

Not unexpectedly, I thought "What if that was an SCP?"

page revision: 61, last edited: 16 Jul 2019 19:47

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