#3009

[gunesinkeyfininkahyasi]

[sleepsucks]

[harveyphotography]

Se non ti emoziona l’arte, un paesaggio, una nuova vita appena nata; più che altro esisti, non vivi.

[scpaesthetics]

SCP Aesthetics: 3009 (requested by @ijumpbridges, written by keyii)

SCP-3009 either is, is impersonating, or believes itself to be Lee. (yellow, twins, internet culture)

requests are open

[gattogrigiobjd]

Splish, splash by Nadine Via Flickr: Blue Butterfly Dolls Blue, The Mushroom Peddler Sir Octavius Von Tentacle, Miss Nekotaku Moonalunaa and Saturini

[aimalevich]

#NFT 🔳 MASTERPIECE #3009 🔲 🔶🟪◾️🟨🟩🔹 SALE AT @binancenfts Make art, not war, please… #notowar Artifical Intelligence was impressed by the most famous avant-garde paintings and made a suprematistic collection of unique tokens! Pure art thesеs in the limited range of visual images. Stay connected to the abstraction. Supply for each Art 1/1 6,000 * 6,000 pixels #nftcollection #art #cubism #contemporaryart #modernart #cryptoart #aimalevich #abstractart #malevich #artgallery #artgallery #nftart #minimalart #nftartgallery #kandinsky #suprematism #avantgarde #abstract #abstractionart #suprematist #suprematism #russianavantgarde #modernism #geometricart #avantgarde #cubismart #kazimirmalevich (at Bali, Indonesia) https://www.instagram.com/p/CqAY0nKrbds/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[todays-xkcd]

"10 minutes ago we were down to only 2 0s!" "How many do we have now?" "I ... don't know!!"

Number Shortage [Explained]

Transcript Under the Cut

[Miss Lenhart is standing on the left, facing Cueball and Megan on the right.] Miss Lenhart: The Math Department number shortage is getting worse. We have only 15 2s and 12 3s left. Miss Lenhart: No, wait, 13 2s and 10 3s. Miss Lenhart: No, wait...

[wasteddays]

FRANK SINATRA (RARE) WITH SPECIAL GUESTS: ELLA FITZGERALD, BENNY GOODMAN, PACIDO DOMINGO LIVE AT RADIO CITY MUSIC HALL NEW YORK CITY NY MARCH 16th, 1986 THIS IS A LIMITED EDITION COLLECTOR SERIES OF 300 2019 NSU RECORDS #3009 (NOT A PIRATED COPY) THIS...

[dogstomp]

Dogstomp #3009 - March 28th

Patreon / Discord Server / Itaku / Bluesky

[rottingraisins]

insert weed smoking girlfriends joke

[manilovescp166]

SCP 3009 and SCP 3009-C after escaping the Foundation and seeing a bear in the wild (they are going to get mauled by it).

[arson-jellyfish69]

Stacey (3009) and Leora (4818) who I also discovered reading Devil's advocate, I like them kinda being younger sisters to Iris

[captainsantiagos]

Just because something doesn’t end up being romantic love, does NOT mean it isn’t still love. Love exists in many forms.

[glassautomaton]

The third and final part of this tale takes a bit of a more personal look at what years of containment can do to someone. Certain sections written by Kothardarastrix.

And a birthday present for Iris! She’s miserable here!

And with that I’m finally done. I can do something else now. I can write other articles. Good lord. What do I even do with myself? 

[rustyboltzz]

Stacy: Hey Iris can you help me with my maths homework?

Iris: …

Iris: This isn’t maths.

Stacy: Yes? It is?

Iris: It has letters. Maths does not. Honestly, what is this place teaching you?

Stacy: Iris do you not know what algebra is

Iris: Sounds anomalous.

Stacey tries to explain it to her, and she covers her ears just in case it's memetic

[nach0]

broken feathers and bloody wings

Summary:

Humanoid anomalies grow wings after a certain stage of development in their powers.

Iris has always hated hers.

AO3 Link

Word Count: 1244

Iris knew she was screwed the minute she heard a long and disappointed sigh.

Which was ridiculous. She was an MTF commander, trained in hundreds of forms of combat, the sole survivor of Omega-7.

She could have just kept walking. Once she was in her cell there was nothing Jacqueline could do to follow her. But she knew it would just make future missions awkward and tense.

“Is there something you needed?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. Maybe if she just bluffed...

“You are aware it’s very obvious when you’re binding, right sir?”

She was, in fact, aware, but she blamed the foundation entirely for that. They denied her proper binds so she had to resort to other things. Like tying her wings together with rope and hiding them under her jacket.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Denial was great. It was her favourite thing. It got her through psych evals and awkward conversations about her feelings.

It wasn’t working.

Jacqueline sighed at her. Again. Iris was already over this ‘disappointed friend’ act. “Right, jacket off. Did you at least make the knot easy to untie?”

“You could just leave it alone and stop bothering me.”

“So no then. Let me do my job and be your medic.”

She reluctantly shrugged off her jacket, pulling out the knife she definitely wasn’t supposed to have to cut the ropes off herself. Most skips would hate having a weapon so close to their wings. Iris was long past caring.

Once she was done Jacqueline pulled the rest of the rope away and let bright red wings stretch and fill the hallway. “How many of us have told you to stop doing this now?”

Iris looked straight ahead at the wall. “They’re a hindrance on missions and reveal me immediately as an anomaly. That’s all.”

“Sure. That’s why you keep them bound and hidden for as long as you can get away with even after we’re back on site.”

She was starting to get annoyed and kept her wings tightly to herself. No use training herself out of expressing with them if one slip-up ruined everything.

“It’s none of your business.” She said with professional detachment. She was the commander, and Jacqueline was one of her soldiers. Nothing more than that. “My wings and my reasons for hating them are my business.”

“...Hating?” Her voice was filled with concern, so genuine it made Iris want to punch something. Or cry. Probably both. “Sir, that’s-”

“I said hiding. You misheard.”

That moment made for the perfect time to leave, so she turned and stormed away without another word. Her cell was silent, but it was safe from judgement and invasive questions.

At least until word of the incident got back to her foundation-mandated therapist.

Horary.

~

SCP-105 Iris Thompson was 15 years old. She hadn’t left her bed in weeks, but that was fine.

There were no missions anymore.

Her photos had been confiscated, but that was fine too. They only showed dead bodies now.

It hadn’t been long after the... disbandment of the team that her wings had started to grow in. The researchers had been ecstatic, saying she’d reached an important stage in the development both her life and powers.

They’d been less excited to explain what cardinal wings represented.

Grief and loss.

How fitting.

She couldn’t believe they expected her to be excited about it.

To her, they were just the final nail in the coffin proving she wasn’t normal.

Because otherwise she could pretend. She could look normal, act normal, and aside from outdated references, she spoke normally. Take her photos away and she was just as average as anyone else.

Wings weren’t average. And now there was no chance of her ever being let go. Even if she lost her powers, actually lost them with multiple tests to prove it, she was a risk to the veil.

And yet they still tried to offer her incentives based on them. Flight training if she engaged with the researchers. Time in a safe airspace if she ate full meals consistently.

It was shocking how they hadn’t realised that it made her far less likely to comply.

The door to her cell opened. She didn’t bother to move from her blanket lump.

“105, you need to get up. Learning to use your wings has now been made mandatory.”

She mentally weighed the pros and cons of being abrasive before deciding she was too tired to care.

“Fuck off.”

There was a long pause. Almost enough to make her regret her decision.

“You will be escorted by force if necessary.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, she sat up. Stretched out her wings. Ran a hand along the feathers.

Iris made eye contact with the researcher as she grabbed hold of one of her primaries and yanked. Then she did another. And another.

By the time they snapped out of their shock and called the guards, her wing was mangled beyond use. There was no way she could fly on the bloody mess, even if her other side was untouched.

She lost a lot of privileges for that stunt, but they’d got the message.

She would never use her wings.

~

Jacqueline had snitched.

Iris was now required to have her wings out at all times while not on missions, which included the cafeteria. She’d avoided it for a while before being told how worried Leora and Stacy were about her, and couldn’t she just come out for a little while to reassure them?

Dammit. She had gone soft.

The pair had swarmed on her immediately, asking questions about where she’d been and if she was hurt.

Usually they were satisfied with grunts and non-committal answers, however seemingly sprouting wings out of nowhere was much more interesting than her classified missions.

“Will we get them?”

“If you’re lucky, no.”

“Do they hurt you?”

“Not anymore.”

“Can you fly on them?”

“Never learned.”

“Can I touch them?”

Stacy’s question threw her and she paused, blinking slightly.

Wings were meant to be personal. They were fragile and much more painful than regular limbs when injured.

But... letting her do it would be an even bigger flip off to the researchers constantly trying to get her to accept them. Besides, she’d been shot before. What damage could one teenager do?

“Alright.”

Leora and Stacy both looked shocked at her response, though they quickly scrambled over to her side of the bench when she spread her wings wide.

There were a number of marks, crooked feathers that had never healed quite right, but they were gasping like it was the coolest thing they’d ever seen.

Stacy carefully reached out and ran a hand along it, frowning slightly at the dirt and dust she’d never bothered to clean out. She gently started trying to brush it out, only to freeze as Iris-

Well, Iris chirped.

She had never once made a bird noise. Not even in distress. But the minute someone is gentle with them-

“We are never talking about this again,” she hissed, standing and almost tripping over the table in her rush to leave. Everyone moved out of the way of a pissed Commander Thompson and she was back at her cell in record time.

A loud groan escaped her.

Everyone who talked about ‘self-care’ and ‘not neglecting an entire part of your body’ was going to be insufferable.

Though she had to admit she wouldn’t mind someone doing it again.