Boba Roe 2

Submitted by the partners of Marshall, Carter and Dark on October 1st, 2019, the Sub-Rosa Accords stipulate an primary exchange of goods between the host party, MC&D Inc. and one "SCP Foundation", unincorporated. The articles of this contract are intended to circumvent the traditional zero-negotiation policy of the Foundation through mutual benefit, and potential hostility (see Article 10).

1. Marshall, Carter, and Dark will exchange a sum of their collection; low in material value, high in anomalous potential.

2. The Foundation will exchange an equivalent number of SCP classified objects; low in reality-threatening capacity, high in appraised worth.

3. Both parties shall chose a single representative to negotiate this exchange.

4. The negotiations will take place within a Marshall, Carter and Dark Lodge of their choosing.

5. The physical exchange will occur on Foundation secured area of their choosing.

6. Both parties will give a full uncensored accounting for all offered goods; full histories, idiosyncrasies, and anomalous capabilities will be explained, in full, before the object can be tabled.

7. Any object tabled by The Foundation can not be auctioned by Marshall, Carter and Dark; objects will be personally utilized, or added to the "Collection".

8. The Foundation withholds the right to bi-yearly checks on the location and containment stability of all exchanged items.

9. Knowledge of the Sub-Rosa Accords will be strictly limited to the Foundation O5 Council, and the Partners of Marshall, Carter and Dark.

10. Should the Foundation refuse to participate in the Sub-Rosa Accords, Marshall Carter and Dark will dispatch all potentially tabled objects within random population centers across the globe.

Partial listing of all items exchanged under the Sub-Rosa Accords - Full listings available under Document O5-SUBR-001-113.


All "Karma Kameleon"" production materials, and the location of Oliver Brothers Inc. Given their recent breach of contract, this is considered mutually beneficial.

(three other high-level, low cost MC&D items).


Three (3) capsules of SCP-500; Cure-all.
Fifteen (15) pamphlets of SCP-4177; 24 hour weight loss.
(One more SCP item)

400g from SCP-4938: Pure human gold.
18kg from SCP-447: Versatile green Goo.
10kg from SCP-4928: Delicious parasitic tapioca.

"So good of you to stop by, Darling. We're all very pleased you agreed to our proposal."

"It wasn't a proposal. At best, it was extortion. At worst, it was a terrorist threat."

A pen clicked. In the silent parlor, the noise was deafening.

"And you will call me Overseer."

Iris Black and O5-5 stat in tall, red-silk armchairs, framed across a mahogany coffee table. A fire crackled almost inaudibly in the backing hearth, cradled up in a pure, marble fireplace too ornate for Buckingham Palace. Along the walls hung trophies; exotic beasts, unremarkable and anomalous alike, dead-eyed and ever-watching. This was the Fifth Lodge, the London hideaway of Marshall, Carter and Dark.

Iris bickered and bargained. O5-5 discussed, and debated.

Iris drank her wine. O5-5 did not.

The negotiations lasted nearly six hours.

"Sixteen kilograms is more than enough." Said O5-5 tersely, weary from the long negotiation.

"You're lucky we're not asking for the whole ball. Twenty." said Iris.

"Eighteen, and you must make sure above all else that-"

"Yes yes, we know. No dead bodies."

"Eighteen kilograms then." O5-5 said with a note of finality.

"If only so we can, at last, move to our final item." Iris sighed. "What was it again… ah, yes, the tapioca. SCP-4928 to you."

"I think we can dispense with the dickering on this one, hm?" she continued quickly. "Ten kilograms, and your assurance it's your entire stock. Save, of course, for a minuscule sample for your scientific fussing. Do we have a deal?"

O5-5 didn't respond. She stared at her clipboard a moment longer, silently. Iris raised her glass, and briefly wondered what could occupy such a quick-witted woman for so very long.

"Tell me why you want it." O5-5 said at last.

Iris froze mid-sip. Two boundaries of blood-red, lips and wine, held a fraction from touching. She was surprised. As monotonous as this whole affair had been, O5-5 had never repeated herself. She had never wasted words.

"We've already told you." Iris said. "They're singular, they're anomalous, and they're organic objet d'art. They're valuable to us, and worthless to you."

"Yes, but what do you plan on doing with them?" O5-5 asked. "Even in deep freeze, they'll be a pile of rotting mush within a few decades. It doesn't seem like a… solid investment."

Iris grinned. She grinned wider than she'd done all night.

"My goodness, Overseer, are you indulging a curiosity?" Isis asked delightedly.

"I'm merely addressing an inconsistency." O5-5 replied, shifting in her seat. "We need to ensure you won't do anything with SCP-4928 that might threaten normalcy."

"Like what?" Iris asked with a coy tip of her head.

"Hatching them." O5-5 said instantly.

Iris snorted, then snickered, then laughed. She laughed so hard she had to set her glass down, otherwise she might stain her 38,000 dollar dress with 1500 dollar wine.

"Impossible." Iris said after catching her breath.

"We're supposed to trust-" O5-5 began.

"It's impossible." Iris said again, firmly.

O5-5's eyebrows crinkled. "How are so so sure?"

"Because after nine million, nine thousand and sixty-four planets, you might start to guess the Avanaski are just piss-poor parasites." Iris said.

"The what?" O5-5 asked.

"Avanaski." Iris repeated. "They have a bit of a reputation throughout the Universe, or so we've been told. Over the last few years the boys and I have been making some new business partners in… very high places."

"Are you saying you're in contact with extra-solar species?" O5-5 asked.

"Ah, so sorry; that doesn't fall under our disclosure agreement does it?" Iris said, a slip of a grin returning to her face.

"Hmh." O5-5 muttered. "So, the 'Avanaski' are having trouble finding suitable hosts then?"

"The Avanaski have trouble with everything, Darling. I mean, did they seem especially… competent to you?"

"They're capable of outer-galactic flight."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Doesn't it?"

Iris Dark finished the last of her wine. As she held up her glass, a grey-skinned man had already appeared at her side. He collected the empty cup, and threaded a new, full glass into her waiting fingers in one fluid motion. He was there and gone in the span of a breath, but O5-5 had caught a glimpse of him in the flickering firelight. He'd had no face at all.

"The Avanaski" Iris began, leaning back in her chair. "Come from a world so lush with resources it makes Earth look like a half-mossy crag. That is, they assimilated such a world. The planet they call 'One' is likely just the first planet they successfully infected. We're not sure where they actually come from, but given how resilient they are in dormancy, we suspect they once hitched rides on meteorites."

"Either way, their first, and only host species were these chubby little grey things. Think tiny elephant meets Kuala bear. These docile lumps once lived care-free in huge, hollow trees that bore fruit all year round. It was a twin-star system - a world without winter. Better yet, it all sat atop a mantle chalk-a-block with ore and exploitable energy sources. Of course, the natives would never have utilized them - innovation requires necessity, and they wanted for nothing. The Avanaski, however, wanted for everything."

"They're the the spoiled rich-kids of the universe, Overseer - a species that evolved in an all-too-easy environment. They were already halfway through their industrial revolution by the time it took humanity to figure out fire! It was easy for them to stroll out into space, since they had ready-made pea-sized crystals that stored more energy than fifty tons of oil. They were handed the keys to the galaxy."

"But, lo and behold, the rest of the universe wasn't nearly as idyllic. Over the past few millennia, as they've burned through what's left of Planet 'One', the Avanaski have dwindled down to a bare handful. They have no concept of conservation, or adaptation. We suspect, or at least our business partners suspect, they'll be gone entirely within the next decade."

Iris found herself smiling by the end of her story. Not the coy, domineering smile she wore during every negotiation, but a genuine one. The woman sitting across from her was such an incredible audience. True, she didn't gasp or applaud, but her sharp eyes and steady expression told Iris she was absorbing every single word.

"You haven't actually answered my question." O5-5 said finally.

"Which question was that?" Iris asked.

"Why do you want the Tapioca?"

"To eat, obviously."

O5-5, paused exhaled deeply. She clicked her pen, and set it down across the clipboard. "If you're going to waste my time, Ms. Dark, then we can simply strike this item and call it an evening."

"I'm serious!" Iris said, both sounding and looking affronted with a hand over her chest. "We intend to eat the entire batch! There's a whole banquet planned, in fact - it's very exclusive."

"Exclusive as the Bubble Tea shop three blocks from here." O5-5 quipped. "It's just tapioca."

"Alien parasite filled tapioca."

"It tastes like Tapioca. SCP-4928 doesn’t even register to chemical analysis, let alone the human tongue. Why bother?”

Iris found her true smile returning.

“Have you ever had Faisan Pathétique?” she asked.

“I… don’t even know what that is.” O5-5 replied, confused by the sudden question.

“It’s a breed of pheasant" Iris said "Found only on a single farm in France. The previous owner hung himself in the barn. For whatever reason, whenever a Faisan Pathétique is butchered, it experiences an instant of existential realization. It understands it’s a bird. It understands it has lived a pointless life. It realizes it is dying just for the sake of a meal.”

“How could you possibly-“ O5-5 began.

“EKGs" Iris interjected. "Soul Cairns, empathic micro-projection… oh, and the fact they scream ‘wait!’ or ‘stop!’ or ‘please!’ just before you lop off their heads. I’ve had them on several occasions now. Do you know what they taste like?”

O5-5 did not reply.

“Chicken." Iris replied anyway. "They taste like dry, white chicken.”

O5-5 still did not reply.

“So you might ask ‘why bother?’. Then I'd answer, ‘It’s not about the taste, Darling’. Then you’d get huffy about me calling you darling again, but I’d carry on and say 'The real point of Faisan Pathétique is knowing you’re eating something that, for one glorious moment, understands the universal pecking order.” Iris finished, rolling her fingers in a flourish.

O5-5 squinted, but said nothing.

“Pecking order?" Iris repeated, hand frozen in the air. "Come now, Ms. Overseer, I’m perfectly happy holding both sides of this conversation, but I’d appreciate a chuckle here and there. A smile? A flinch? Anything?”

O5-5 taped her pen against the board.

“Oh fine, be that way." Iris huffed. "I’m only trying to add some brevity to my point.”

“Which is?” O5-5 asked.

“That ‘palette’ isn’t simply about taste!" Iris exclaimed. "That we needn’t be governed by such primitive nervous feedback. Take this wine, for example. I can appreciate its taste, yes, but what about its history? The artistry in its production? The artful, brutal seizure of property we performed to claim the wine cellar where it sat for nearly two hundred years? I can’t taste that, Darling, but I can experience it.”

Iris finished the glass in one slow, deliberate sip. She set it down on the table. The grey man did not return.

“So," O5-5 said slowly. "What experience do you get from SCP-4928?”

Iris smiled. For the first time, she showed her teeth.

“The same experience our ancestors had - hunting and killing their prey with bare hand alone. It's the feeling of devouring raw, living flesh - not rent from a carcass, but torn from a squealing, living thing. Yet you feel nothing but pride, and satisfaction, knowing that thing would kill you in an instant for it's own survival. Yet you won. You are the dominant life form, the superior species. Imagine that feeling, but attached to a galactic superpower. An extra-solar dynasty."

"Just try and imagine it. You pop one of those precious little black baubles into your mouth, and swallow it whole. While breaking apart in your stomach, all those colonies, all those newborn Avanaski try to latch onto your stomach lining, onto your esophagus, onto anything. Instead, they melt away into the acid of your stomach, or get churned and broken apart by your intestines. We dominate, devour, destroy them all through the power of our own biology. Every moment is a one-sided war against one of the greatest powers in the Universe."

"The taste is nothing, Darling. It's knowing what the meal represents. Every bite tells you that we, humanity, will not simply inherit the stars. We will conquer them. We will consume them."

Iris clasped her hands together beneath her chin, leaning out. Her dark, narrow eyes glinted with a fiendish, child-like delight.

"Can you think of anything more sublime?"

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