Progressive Realization
/* source: http://ah-sandbox.wikidot.com/component:collapsible-sidebar-x1 */
 
#top-bar .open-menu a {
        position: fixed;
        top: 0.5em;
        left: 0.5em;
        z-index: 5;
        font-family: 'Nanum Gothic', san-serif;
        font-size: 30px;
        font-weight: 700;
        width: 30px;
        height: 30px;
        line-height: 0.9em;
        text-align: center;
        border: 0.2em solid #888;
        background-color: #fff;
        border-radius: 3em;
        color: #888;
}
 
@media (min-width: 768px) {
 
    .mobile-top-bar {
        display: block;
    }
 
    .mobile-top-bar li {
        display: none;
    }
 
    #main-content {
        max-width: 708px;
        margin: 0 auto;
        padding: 0;
        transition: max-width 0.2s ease-in-out;
    }
 
    #side-bar {
        display: block!important;
        position: fixed;
        top: 0;
        left: -19em;
        width: 17em;
        height: 100%;
        overflow-y: auto;
        z-index: 10;
        padding: 0.3em 0.675em;
        background-color: rgba(0,0,0,0.1);
        transition: left 0.5s ease-in-out;
    }
 
    #side-bar:target {
        display: block;
        left: 0;
        width: 17em;
        margin: 0;
        z-index: 10;
    }
 
    #side-bar:target .close-menu {
        display: block;
        position: fixed;
        width: 100%;
        height: 100%;
        top: 0;
        left: 0;
        z-index: -1;
    }
 
    #top-bar .open-menu a:hover {
        text-decoration: none;
    }
 
    .close-menu {
        margin-left: 19em;
        opacity: 0;
    }
}
:root {
    --posX: calc(50% - 358px - 12rem);
}
 
/*--- Footnote Auto-counter --*/
#page-content {
    counter-reset: megacount;
}
 
/*--- Footnote Superscript Number --*/
.fnnum {
    display: inline-block;
    text-indent: calc(-1% - 0.1em);
    overflow: hidden;
    line-height: 83%;
    text-decoration: none;
    font-weight: bold;
    font-style: initial;
    color: transparent;
    position: relative; top: -0.25em; font-size: 82%;
    padding: .15em calc(.21em - 0.4px) .12em calc(.11em - 1px);
    margin-left: -0.06em;
    margin-right: -0.25em;
    counter-increment: megacount;
    user-select: none;
}
.fnnum::after {
    content: "" counter(megacount);
    color: var(--fnColor, #E6283C);
}
.fnnum:hover {
    text-decoration: none;
    cursor: pointer;
    background-color: var(--fnColor, #E6283C);
}
.fnnum:hover::after { color: white; }
 
/*--- Footnote Content Wrapper --*/
.fncon {
    position: absolute;
    right: calc(var(--posX) + 80px);
    line-height: 1.2;
    padding: 0.82rem;
    width: 10.3rem;
    background: white;
    border: 2px solid black;
    font-weight: initial;
    font-style: initial;
    text-align: initial;
    pointer-events: none;
    opacity: 0;
    transition: opacity 0.15s linear, right 0.3s cubic-bezier(.08,.72,.5,.94);
    z-index: 9;
}
.fnnum:hover + .fncon {
    opacity: 1;
    right: var(--posX);
}
.fncon::before {
    position: absolute;
    top: 0; left: 0;
    transform: translateX(-52%) translateY(-55%) scale(1.15);
    background-color: var(--fnColor, #E6283C);
    color: white;
    content: counter(megacount);
    font-size: initial;
    font-weight: bold;
    font-style: initial;
    padding-left: 0.32em; padding-right: 0.32em;
    padding-top: 0.18rem; padding-bottom: 0.08rem;
}
 
/*--- Mobile Query --*/
@media only screen and (max-width: 1279px) {
    .fncon {
        position: fixed;
        bottom: 1.3rem;
        left: calc(11% - 50px);
        width: 70%;
        transition: opacity 0.15s linear, left 0.3s cubic-bezier(.08,.72,.5,.94);
    }
    .fnnum:hover + .fncon {
        left: 11%;
     }
}

rating: +2+x


Progressive Recollection


Outside.jpg

Low Threat Humanoid Containment, Site-97 — the Foundation's Central European Research Complex. The blue neon lights emanating from every exterior wall of the facility could be misconstrued as gaudy and excessive until you learn that it contains memetic agents. Anyone who looks at the light will believe the building is a small public library. It's a shame no one goes to the library anymore.

The site is largely considered to be the center of the Foundation's operations in Europe. Everything from basic research and analytics, and mythological and historical anomalous studies, to extraterrestrial research and observation. Site-97 does it all. It's fitting then that they built it on the outskirts of Rome.

A large black van hurriedly parks in front of the main entrance. Men in tactical gear hurry out of the sides and open the back door. A stretcher is removed, carrying a woman with long black hair. The sedative would keep her cooperative while being processed and placed in containment. This was standard procedure for the hardened staff of Site—97, she was just another number to add to the list.

Just another anomaly to secure and contain.


Research.jpg

The Record Keeping and Management wing of Site—97 was a swirling mass of researchers, deliberating and studying. In one of the upper conference rooms, Three young men are discussing the newest arrival to Site-97.

"Alright guys, I know it's late, but if we really dig into this, we will get this done in no time." Dr. Wolf sets a stack of papers on the table, and takes a seat at the table.

"Why do they need this so quickly though? This could easily wait until morning." Dr. Chen set his laptop on the table, and loaded up Skip.net.

"The director apparently wanted this done ASAP." Dr. Nails threw his hands. "So here we are." He removed a tablet from his bag and loaded up the MTF report.

"So who are we putting in a box today?" Dr. Chen ask as Dr. Wolf starts combing through the stack of papers.

Dr. Nails begins to read from the tablet. "Jenna Péturdottir, capable of manipulating particles in the atmosphere, 26 years old, married to Alice Richard, works as a researcher in an atmospheric lab in Iceland—"

"Wait, so was she researching her own anomaly?" Dr. Wolf looks at the two others in the room.

Dr. Nails skims through the report. "Looks like it. The interview with her wife confirmed it."

Dr. Chen looked up from the computer. "Is that interview going in the article?"

"I don't think so, she only confirmed what we already know, and she punched an MTF officer in the face." Dr. Nails begins reading from his tablet. "-An abandoned machine was discovered in her home after she was contained by the MTF. The machine bears a remarkable resemblance to a Kant counter, however it was found to be inoperable due to faults in the design."

Dr. Chen speaks without looking away from the computer. "What was wrong with it?"

Dr. Wolf picks up the schematics for the device. "Looks like the machine was built to detect fluctuations in particles in the lower atmosphere, but what she was actually observing was fluctuations in reality. Since she doesn't have any measurements from a neutral base reality, she had nothing to compare it to."

"That's pretty impressive. Too bad she doesn't work for us." Dr. Chen spoke as he edited the preliminary file.

"Maybe we should bring it up to Dr. Vivian. They might be able to put in a request to the director to allow her to assist with research. She obviously would be useful." Dr. Nails proposed.

"I will mention it when I take the report upstairs, hopefully Dr. Vivian is in a good mood."

Dr. Chen sighs loudly.

"How is the article coming along Dr. Chen?"

"The page is stuck saving."

The two others sigh in unison.


Director.jpg

It's hard not to see the researchers hurrying around the site as anything other than ants. Especially when you observe them from the top floor. They stick to the bottom floors, only coming above when they are told to.

"Ma'am!" A slightly out of breath level 2 researcher calls out to the head researcher. "We have finished the preliminary report on the new arrival. It's all here."

Dr. Vivian takes the file and glances at the report. "Thank you-" She quickly looks at the researchers name tag. "-Dr. Wolf."

"Um, we would also like to make note of something ma'am."

"What is it?"

Dr. Wolf pauses before answering. "We went through the research materi—"

"Who is we?" Dr. Vivian pivots so she is looking right at the young researcher. She stands a couple inches taller then him.

"Me, Dr. Nails, and Dr. Chen, ma'am… we believe she would be a useful resource in researching her anomaly. She is confirmed to have been studying it for some time now." Dr. Wolf stops talking, waiting for the lead researcher to interrupt him.

She just stares as if waiting for him to get to the point.

"We all think that special access to her own file may assist us in our research." Dr. Wolf says nervously.

Dr. Vivian speaks soft but firmly. "Do you know about the containment breach that occurred in Site-77?"

"No ma'am. I don't."

"The cause of it was the decision to allow an anomaly to walk the halls. You know what that anomaly did?"

Dr. Wolf is silent.

"It removed the intestines of every researcher in the site, and hung them on the walls." Dr. Vivian turns to the door behind her and opens it. "We will not be allowing any anomaly to have 'special access' to anything. You can go home for the day."

"Yes ma'am." The young researcher returns to the bottom floors with the rest of the lower staff.

They are naive like little ants too.

Dr. Vivian walks into the room. It's a large office, but simplistic in its decor, the office of a man who knew his stature, but doesn't care. On his desk was a half full bottle of scotch. He sat there with a glass in his hand.

Without a word, Dr. Vivian places the file on Director Arium's desk, and walks out of the room.


Bar.jpg

The early morning sun shines through the windows of the bar. A man sits alone in the corner, nursing a drink with one hand and holding a file in the other. His calm silence could be mistaken for contentment if his tired eyes didn't prove otherwise. It had only been a handful of minutes and he is already on his second drink. He is waiting for someone. Then after some time, the man was joined by another in a suit and tie.

The man in the suit utters a phrase. "The serpent is seen."

"The hand is hidden." Says the man with a drink in his hands.

The two men sat together, and the man in the suit spoke. "How are thing going at Site-97?."

"Fine… same as usual." The man takes a drink. "How long until we change that?"

"Soon." The man in the suit put his hand out. "Everything ready?"

The man with the drink hands over the file. "I made sure the amnestics didn't take. There should be residual memories."

"Good." The man in the suit starts to leave, but utters a phrase before he does. "May 28th."

Director Arium nods and returns to his drink.


Bench.jpg

Alice sits on a bench, Lost in her thoughts. A man approaches wearing a suit.

His voice is monotone. "Alice Richard… I would like to speak with you for a moment if that is alright with you."

Alice jerks her head to the man speaking. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"We haven't, but I believe I have something you may like to see." The man sits down next to Alice, who proceeds to stand up in response.

"Listen, I'm not interested in whatever you're selli—" Alice turns away.

"Have you had feelings of loneliness or forgetfulness?"

"Fuck off." Alice walks away.

"Do you feel like something is missing… something you need to remember… a woman in a photograph?"

The both of them are silent for a brief moment.

Alice turns to look at the man in the suit. "How do you know tha-"

"I know who you are, and I know that there are things that don't make sense right now. I know there are pictures you own you don't remember taking." The man removes a file from his jacket. "I think you would like to see this."

Alice stares at the file with unease, but conviction shows in her eyes. She quickly grabs the file from his hands and sits next to him.

"You should work on your people skills. You sound like a weirdo when you approach a girl saying 'I have something you may like to see'." She opens the file.

"My apologies. I assure you I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

"Well I am, so—" Her words caught in her mouth as she read the words on the piece of paper.

SCP-XXXX, formally Jenna Péturdottir, capable of manipulating particles in the atmosphere, 26 years old, married to Alice Richard-

"What is this?"

"Something that was stolen from you."

Alice stares at the words on the page. She doesn't believe what she is seeing, but she couldn't stop the thought from rising in her mind. "This is the girl of my dreams." Tears start to form in her eyes.

The man looks at her with sanguine eyes. "I know this must be hard for you. Seeing something that you have forgotten."

Alice doesn't answer.

"Do you want to see her again?"

Alice looks at the man. "She's not real. This doesn't make sense."

The man stands up, and hands Alice a card. "Like I said… I know this is hard for you." Alice takes the card. "When you are ready, contact me. We will help you." The man walks away.

Alice calls out to the man. "Who are you!?"

"A helping hand."

Alice looks down at the card. It contains a phone number, and a symbol of a snake and a hand.



Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License