#THERE ARE SPOILERS

[ofthebrownajah]

The content warnings for almost all the episodes are up on this site and yeah this season definitely feels like it's gonna be a LOT darker than s1.

[u5an5]

Jacobs' Journal: Tape #2 - Encounter with an S.C.P.

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[START LOG]

Jacobs: (hyperventilating) Entry Two. Days Four... through Eleven. Site 19.

Jacobs: (gulp) <hatefully> I'm going to kill that man.

[cut]

Jacobs: (regulated breathing) Day Twelve. I just slept for... er... eleven hours straight. (sigh) I'll probably get more later, but I need to get this out now, or I may just go crazy.

Jacobs: ...

[Rest bellow the cut]

Jacobs: I made it clear from the offset that I would be reporting any and all shortcomings spotted within this facility to my superiors. I painted a target on my back, a fact I was all too familiar and aware of.

Jacobs: I didn't expect it to go down like this.

Jacobs: (inhale) Lambert assured me, in that smug way that someone who has something to hide conveys, that nothing I found would be worth sending to the Council. Not assured - insisted, in a vaguely threatening way.

Jacobs: I'd heard this before... but he took it way too far.

Jacobs: ...

Jacobs: I figured I'd start poking into the financials of this place, paper trails usually lead somewhere men like Lambert don't want others looking. It was a lot of the obvious: skimming the top of security funding and stashing it in various offshore accounts for his own personal use.

Jacobs: He was using it to fund two affairs he was having in other countries. Lambert was living large, sitting pretty on top of a pile of cash, actually making money off of The Foundation... unlike the rest of us.

Jacobs: Can't blame the guy for trying, but you'd think someone that cocky would have at least tried to hide the evidence a little better.

Jacobs: But that wasn't the scandal. It was all just a distraction. All these were reprimand-able, of course, but nothing that most superiors don't already abuse their positions for.

Jacobs: ... I was able to trace the money to these accounts, but the amounts didn't add up.

Jacobs: There was less money at the end of the trail than at the beginning. Lambert's gluttony wouldn't account for all that was missing. Someone else has been syphoning off Foundation funds, and they've been using Lambert as a middle man.

Jacobs: I can't prove any of this, of course. I wouldn't be here if I could. Something tells me, if I had found it by now, he would have killed me instead of... doing what he did. More troubling, is just who is he fronting the money for?

Jacobs: I went to bed that night embroiled in a mystery. I woke up in the antechamber of an SCP Recreation Chamber.

Jacobs: ...My clothes were gone, the door was locked. My demands to know what was happening went unanswered for a short while.

Jacobs: Hearing Lambert's voice over the intercom was by no means a comfort.I said I would only speak to the O5 Council for this behaviour, but he told me I had it backwards: "No one will speak to you but me. Any personnel who’d try, I've warned them, will suffer a worse fate than you."

Jacobs: What I thought was an elaborate eecution revealed itself to be an elaborate form of torture. Funnily, he doesn't consider torture a worse fate than death, indicating he's clearly never faced either.

Jacobs: (shaky inhale) They opened the adjoining cell door. I should have guessed it would be that... thing. "You better try to keep your eyes on that one, kid" he told me. "Don't wanna lose your head." Then he turned down the temperature and left.

Jacobs: My calls went unanswered, and I turned away for only a second before remembering that doing so was a matter of life and death. I quite literally held my fate in my hands. I knew he couldn't keep me there forever, but I only just sent in my weekly report the night before.

Jacobs: Nobody was expecting a word from me for a long time. The torture was routine: I starred at the statue for hours on end, and it didn't kill me. The cold was biting, I dared not move, and by the second day I was growing exhausted.

Jacobs: Cleaning personnel assigned to 173 were ordered to ignore me - address me as a D-Class - but the distraction offered me time to sleep for a few hours while they removed its defecation. I awoke to its feces hitting my face.

Jacobs: Security suggested I eat it before they left, to keep my strength up. I politely declined. ...My heart wouldn't stop beating. My eyes wanted nothing more than to close. I had to wink to keep them from drying out.

Jacobs: That third night, I almost considered giving in... then a voice said: "stand still." I didn't know who it was or why, but I was in too weary state to argue. I stayed standing, willing myself with every last ounce of strength I had left to keep every movement minute.

Jacobs: Finally, the door opened. I didn't look until they said I could. It was the night Watch guard, and with him he'd brought along some rations from the canteen and water. He Watched 173 while I ate, then as he left, told me I should get some rest.

Jacobs: I told him it was impossible,and while I was grateful, Lambert would surely kill the both of us. The guard just... chuckled and said: "Lambert never was much for spotting security feed loops."

Jacobs: He told me that he'd captured footage whilst I had remained unmoving and was playing it on a loop. He'd do so every night shift to ensure I had a proper rest, as well as food. We both knew the risks, but... he seemed adamant to give...

Jacobs: ...And I was all the more thankful for it. I think his name was... McCrimmon... something. That week was a blur, but I wouldn't be here without him. The fourth day was the easiest. During the day, I Watched 173. At night McCrimmon would’ve returned for the night shift and allowed me some reprieve.

Jacobs: We talked about food, about sailing, but when he asked me about my family or anything about me on the outside, I-I turned him down. Those are things I've learned to never drag into this place. They always have a nasty habit of being lost.

Jacobs: He talked a little about his, but he did it with such... confidence. He's a good ki-. Good person. Deserves better assignments than Watching me slowly die. I was nice... while it lasted. But then the fifth day arrived, and Lambert returned.

Jacobs: He was displeased with my progress, and when he reaffirmed his offer to me, I slung a pile of statue dung at the window behind me. Stupid, but it was worth it. He reduced temperature to near-freezing. I figured I could handle it, but then he started playing with the lightning controls.

Jacobs: 173 began inching its way closer to me. I backed myself up into a corner, blindly assessing a way around its path. All the while, Lambert kept calling out over the P.A. jeering at me. Then suddenly, the lights turned off. I was sure I was going to die.

Jacobs: But I waited, and waited... until the lights turned back on. 173 was still only half-way across the room. It stared at me as intently as I was Watching it. Lambert had been keeping his eye on the night-vision screens, which is why it didn't reach me and snap my neck.

Jacobs: He needed me alive, but he would take up what little time he could keep me confined, and make me suffer through it all. He changed the guard roster and enforced a no-contact, no-feeding ban on myself. Didn't stick around to see it, coward.

Jacobs: ...Forty-eight hours I stood there. Alone, Watching my life ebb away in the coarse reflection of 173's stone. as the metal chilled, it pinched and tore at my skin. I curled into a ball to keep my body temperature regulated, but maintained the eye-contact with the SCP, down on the floor.

Jacobs: I felt diminutive before it, that its presence was willing me to turn away and allow death to overcome me. I could swear I heard it whispering. What it said, I couldn't tell, but I know what It wanted me to do. Submit.

Jacobs: I barely felt it when they dragged me out of the room, and when they told me it had only been two days, I couldn't believe it. They dropped me before Lambert, and I stared up at him as I had done with 173. He had the smuggest smirk on his face.

Jacobs: "I think we understand each other now." he said, then threw my clothes at me. I dressed, and returned to my quarters, making sure no one saw me on the way out, only to find my room in tatters. Same for my office.

Jacobs: His cronies had searched them both, trying to find something to use against me. Aways separate your life from The Foundation.

Jacobs: ... (sigh) And they'll never find these recordings. They're too well hidden. If he thinks I'll submit to him, he's sorely mistaken. Destroying this man is my new mission in life. Everything else can wait: The Foundation, everything. I want Lambert's head on my wall. 

Jacobs: ...It'll be a long game, so let him rest easy thinking he's made me heel. I'll get everything I need in time, and then I'll tear down his world down and spit on what's left. That's a promise.

Jacobs: Class B Administrative Oversight Jacobs, signing off... but not for long.

[END LOG]

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[hillhouses]

does anyone want to read this paper for me …

[pikatik]

Wanted to draw that scene from The Book of Bill :D

[beanstalk-nicholas]

that horse drawing meme but its falin

[aquilaofarkham]

every autistic person watching this episode of dungeon meshi:

[razzafrazzle]

Just Checking In! (aka Something About Red Triangles)

[queenoftheantz]

Here are my Dungeon meshi stickers! I basically thought "hey. lots of people will have cute food themed stickers. And that good and well, but I want that serious stuff too!" So I decided to make a series for the main gang based on sense of self instead!

[mossmittens]

[as-i-watch]

Between the lesbian that cant beat the monsterfucker allegations and the autistic man with the special interest, she really underestimated her crowd

[sabertoothwalrus]

everything is fine now except it's not cause I still feel guilty about it

[swedebeast]

[leox-un]

valley of ashes

[poptartcatz40]

THE CHILDREN YEARN FOR THE MINES

[prokopetz]

The important thing is that Marcille did not learn to blaspheme against the natural order to save her girlfriend. She just happened to have studied the art of spitting in God's eye for wholly unrelated reasons, and when the opportunity by chance arose to employ that skill in service of girlfriend-saving, she was ready.

[orphetoon]

when there’s historical romance written abt ur friends