01:05 * Roget joined #lolfoundation
01:05 Roget lol
01:05 Roget I am playing vidya now so gonna be distracted
01:06 Gargus Alrighty.
01:06 Gargus So
01:06 Gargus We know we're doing lolFoundation
01:06 Gargus Any specific rules on it?
01:07 Wogglebug Make it funny.
01:07 Gargus Alrighty.
01:07 Gargus So basically, complete chaos
01:07 Gargus I'm down with that
01:09 Roget we need a canon rule thing
01:09 Wogglebug Like what?
01:09 Gargus Hurm.
01:10 Gargus How about no redos
01:10 Gargus Like, all the weird shit still happens
01:10 Gargus But once it's happened, you have to deal with it
01:10 Gargus So something like, say, 682 wearing a party heart charging through the White House has some actual consequences
01:11 Gargus Everyone has to live with what happens when lolFoundation happens.
01:12 Roget maybe ss is reality benders
01:12 Gargus ss?
01:12 Gargus Nazi ss or secret service ss?
01:12 Roget senior staff
01:13 Roget bright clef kon etc
01:14 Gargus That would work
01:14 Gargus And all the regular level folks are at their mercy
01:14 Gargus Maybe something where the chat is an actual, physical place
01:14 Roget theyre terrified and the ss dont know it
01:14 Roget too caught up in being cool
01:14 Gargus And everyone keeps getting kicked out of reality for kicks
01:14 * Vivax joined #lolfoundation
01:14 Wogglebug Heh
01:15 Wogglebug 343 is Strelnikov all along, but then one day he's someone else, but then he's Strelnikov again.
01:15 Roget yep
01:15 Roget nothing makes sense!
01:16 Vivax 343 is a sexy woman, dressed as a sexy man…dressed as a loose cannon cop with nothing to lose.
01:16 Wogglebug *loose canon cop
01:16 Vivax No
01:16 Vivax He uses literature.
01:16 Gargus Does he play by the rules?
01:16 Vivax No!
01:16 Gargus AWESOME
01:17 Gargus So…
01:17 Gargus We running with all the senior staff being reality benders?
01:17 Wogglebug WorksForMe
01:17 Gargus Alrighty.
01:17 Gargus Everyone have ideas for what we can do with that?
01:17 * Slate joined #lolfoundation
01:18 Wogglebug Uhhh
01:18 Wogglebug Shenanigans?
01:18 —- Slate is back
01:18 Slate Ban everything
01:18 Slate Why are we here
01:18 * Slate left #lolfoundation
01:18 Vivax The SS are all realty benders.
01:18 Vivax They control housing prices.
01:19 Vivax AND INTERIOR DECORATION
01:19 Gargus I like it
01:19 Vivax And Architecture Digest.
01:19 Roget Gargus I was gonna do one where bright and kon go to get kain deflea medicine
01:19 Roget and from their pov its fun
01:19 Roget in reality it wreaks havok
01:20 Gargus I'm thinking of going with my the chat is real and the senior staff can literally kick people from reality
01:20 Gargus thing
01:21 Gargus You, Woggle?
01:21 Wogglebug As an aspect of it. yeah.
01:21 Wogglebug But only a kind of sort of aspect.
01:21 Gargus What have you got?
01:21 Wogglebug Like, it's because soemone thought it that way.
01:21 Wogglebug (I'mma say Waxxx's guy)
01:22 Wogglebug Oh.
01:22 Wogglebug Uhhhh
01:22 Wogglebug Gimme a sec.
01:22 Wogglebug Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
01:22 Wogglebug How about……
01:22 Gargus I'm thinking that right now we just come up with ideas
01:22 Gargus Write 'em up by…
01:22 Gargus Whenever we're all available to get back together
01:22 Gargus And work out the kinks
01:23 Wogglebug Clef and Gears have a competition to see who can take over a fictional South American country first, with Gears using a robot army and Clef with a bunch of guerrilla fighters and secret agents.
01:23 Roget Gargus make a sandbox for a hub?
01:24 Gargus One moment.
01:25 Gargus http://scpsandbox2.wikidot.com/lolfoundaiton-sandbox
01:25 Gargus Here we go
01:25 Wogglebug Or Rights and Bright wind up on Jerry Springer, 682 shows up hal way through saying it's the father.
01:25 Roget add the logs here
01:25 Vivax Are the guerrilla fighters actual gorillas?
01:25 Vivax They should be.
01:25 Wogglebug They could be.
01:26 Roget yesssss
01:26 Gargus I love all of this
01:27 Gargus We are the best idea havers
01:28 Gargus So, to recap
01:28 Gargus Control of interior decoration, deflea medicine, chat terror, and South American takeovers
01:28 Gargus Or Jerry Springer with guest star 682
01:28 Gargus This is our canon
01:28 Gargus It is glorious.
01:29 Gargus When do we want to have our rough drafts ready by?
01:29 Roget I can have one by tomorrow
01:30 Roget I can help with the canon guide too
01:30 Wogglebug How about Clef and Konny go on a recovery mission to Australia, but when they get there it turns out Nobody's there already and they have a silly adventure trying to get to something before Nobody (who is like an incompetent French cop) which involves a fight on top of the Opera house in which Konny and Clef have a bro-bonding moment. And at the end the joke would be that they get back and…
01:30 Wogglebug …the Administrator's all up in their grilles about being so slow and their just like 'But Nobody was there trying to get to it first' and he's all like 'Exactly! Nobody!'
01:30 Wogglebug *they're
01:31 Gargus I think I'll take the Jerry Springer idea.
01:31 Wogglebug Feel free
01:31 Gargus But also try to work with mine
01:31 Gargus I'll have to look up how Jerry Springer works, though
01:31 Vivax Yelling
01:31 Roget this is such a good idea~
01:32 Gargus You know it's a good idea when everyone will hate you for having it.
01:32 Gargus So we know Roget can produce by tomorrow
01:32 Gargus You, Vivax?
01:33 Vivax No…
01:33 Vivax No no no…
01:33 Vivax I'm fucked for the near future.
01:33 Gargus Hurm…
01:33 Gargus How long is the near future?
01:34 Vivax Um…for at least half a month.
01:34 Wogglebug I'm prtty busy for a while, but I might be able to manage something, depending.
01:34 Wogglebug I'm not too great at writing anyway though.
01:34 Gargus Hurm…
01:34 Vivax And I only dropped in here because I was curious about the name of the channel.
01:34 Gargus So how about this
01:34 Gargus Me and Roget will try and crank ours out
01:34 Gargus And you guys just let us know when you can turn something out
01:35 Gargus Sound fair?
01:35 Vivax I'm probably not going to write for this…I may but I'm not sure.
01:35 Vivax Fair.
01:35 Gargus Hey, you're the one who gave us our central tennant
01:36 Gargus So I feel like you should be included somehow
01:36 Wogglebug What's the central tennant?
01:36 Wogglebug David Tennant?
01:36 Roget wogglebug you are an excellent writer
01:36 Wogglebug Blaspheme
01:36 Gargus All the Senior Staff are reality benders
01:36 Wogglebug Everything I write turns into sadness.
01:37 Gargus Although I'm sure we can work David Tenant in somehow
01:37 Wogglebug Just make all crossovers partialcanon
01:37 Roget Wogglebug you are probably in my top 5 favorite writers on the wiki
01:38 Wogglebug Lol
01:38 Roget not even lying
01:38 Wogglebug I've written like 7 things :P
01:39 Roget They're all awesome though
01:39 Roget quality stuff
01:39 Roget your tale you did for our canon is beautiful
01:39 Wogglebug Plergb
01:39 * Vivax left #lolfoundation
01:40 Gargus Anyways
01:40 Gargus So vivax we're waiting on
01:40 Gargus Wogglebug will give it a try
01:41 Gargus And Roget and I will try and get something out by tomorrow evening
01:41 Gargus Sound like a plan?
01:41 Wogglebug Word up.
01:41 Roget I will help with the canon guide
01:41 Roget I am pitching to zyn
01:43 Gargus This will be such a fucking trainwreck
01:43 Gargus It's gonna be awesome
01:44 Wogglebug Word
01:44 Roget I love this idea
01:48 Roget Gargus I think I will write my story tonight when I get tired
01:49 Gargus Alrighty.
01:49 Gargus Imma head off to bed
01:49 Gargus See y'all whenever we can get together next.
01:52 * Gargus left #lolfoundation

<Reject> Idea: Duke Til Dawn from another perspective

Fritz is split up into 343/The Administrator/the outlands

Gears dies trying to stop him. PERMADEAD in the canon.

The outlands is created through all of this, after Gears destroys Fritz and ends the sanity of the universe. The reason stuff forms in the outlands is bits of Fritz clumping back together into a new form. This also explains the reactions people had to SS activity in Eskobar's tale. The reason 343 is collecting the souls of the reality benders is to reconstruct himself.

[01:28:42] <FortuneFavorsBold> I'm more worried about how he discovered a way to pull it off.
[01:28:54] <FortuneFavorsBold> like… what does he actually do?
[01:29:16] <FortuneFavorsBold> it's not about bullets or swords or anything like that
[01:29:26] <FortuneFavorsBold> … is it perhaps… and now this might be a stretch
[01:29:45] <FortuneFavorsBold> What about if he uses Applied Narrative Principles to do it?
[01:30:02] <Roget> I'm thinking he used one of Clef's written proposals for killing a type green
[01:30:05] <Roget> a MILLION backups
[01:30:39] <FortuneFavorsBold> Without Fritz's knowledge, he creates, with administrative tools, so many different versions of the man, that Fritz can't be all of them
[01:30:44] <FortuneFavorsBold> and so he asplodes
[01:31:16] <FortuneFavorsBold> Fritz goes to bend reality for some reason, but before he can do that, he has to check his own state.
[01:31:41] <FortuneFavorsBold> And his own state is so expansive and self-contradictory that it fractures his being into billions of pieces.
[01:31:48] <FortuneFavorsBold> Smithereens if you will.
[01:32:05] <Roget> That is
[01:32:06] <Roget> fucking
[01:32:08] <Roget> cool
[01:32:18] <Roget> but what do you mean by "different versions"
[01:32:19] <Roget> clones?
[01:32:33] <FortuneFavorsBold> no.
[01:32:38] <FortuneFavorsBold> Administrative versions
[01:32:41] <FortuneFavorsBold> Information
[01:33:06] <FortuneFavorsBold> he saturates the Foundation database with thousands upon thousands of contradictory reports of Fritz's nature
[01:33:12] <FortuneFavorsBold> Hell, the internet, even.
[01:33:38] <FortuneFavorsBold> Prints a different document from every network kiosk in a 25 km radius
[01:33:57] <FortuneFavorsBold> hell, you could write a script for that.
[01:34:10] <Roget> oh shit
[01:34:12] <Roget> that is awesome
[01:34:16] <Roget> I love that idea so much
[01:34:22] <FortuneFavorsBold> And one of those documents?
[01:34:39] <FortuneFavorsBold> just so happens, by random chance, to include "Dr. Charles Gears is Dead."
[01:34:54] <Roget> This is such a good idea
[01:34:57] <Roget> I'm crying
[01:36:53] <FortuneFavorsBold> ;_;
[01:36:59] <FortuneFavorsBold> not sure if serious.
[01:37:45] <Roget> Super serious
[01:37:53] <FortuneFavorsBold> And there's your anchor
[01:38:02] <FortuneFavorsBold> your temporal marker
[01:38:07] <FortuneFavorsBold> All the printers going off at once
[01:39:53] <FortuneFavorsBold> shit man, this gotta get saved.
[01:40:35] <Roget> adding it to the hub as we speak

So, Roget mentioned it might be interesting to make Fritz a tragic character. I'm inclined to agree. We can push him over the edge into madrness little by little in the space of a tale or two. Starts small like "Oh one little end won't hurt… But oh shoot, now I've gotta do this other thing or people will notice. If that's true then I'll need to change this and this too…" And so on and so forth until he's rewriting physical constants just to make sure he gets to work on time.
-FFB

Also I mentioned to FFB it might be more interesting to have Gears not die, per se, but to instead be turned into a figment of the other SS's will, with no actual will or mental faculties of his own to speak of. FFb came up with a really cool idea for it but I don't remember what it was. - Roget

• Changes across different places, far away from the main events. Changes in tone mid-story, mid-events.
• ORIA -> IRG
• Fritz is split up into three beings after being killed by Gears, it's ambiguous whether this is good or not because Fritz might've stopped over time.
• Kondraki or someone like him sold the Level 4 documents in exchange for power, because there was investigation and scandal closing in on him and he didn't have a lot of time to get out.
• The Scranton Beacons normal Foundation is dropping are stabilizing the Outlands somewhat, and this pushes Fritz's dispersed power into nodes, which congeal into new benders like Jake or Icarus.
• Assembling Fritz would have unknown, but world-shaking consequences, so the effects should never be seen. This probably shouldn't be explored in the canon explicitly, only alluded to.
• It might be cool to have a story that's just shit changing, and the world going to hell on bender's day
• Have something like Randomini's HONK tying things together. I've taken to calling this "Bender's Eve" but still not sure what it would entail. Possibly some consistent imagery alluding to Gears's death, such as seeing blood, etc. in little vignettes until the whole thing is revealed by the end.

• Rights
• 597

One day, Jacob realized that the Foundation was the place for him. It was the day the pretty girl from his high school’s Alto Clef Fan Club died in his arms, telling him how wonderful his long, raven-black locks of hair looked as they framed his perfectly symmetrical face. Jacob smiled a flawless smile, as he was especially proud of those long, raven-black locks of hair. It had taken him hours in front of a mirror to make them look convincingly like hair.

As she died, Jacob screamed in anguish, pain, and grief and vowed revenge against the robotic servants of the Church of the Broken God that had killed her. Channeling the full might of his incredible power over vegetation, Jacob enshrouded his school in a blanket of vines, and commanded them to collapse inwards, destroying the building and all the cybernetic cultists inside, sparing only the pretty girl.

Her body was borne aloft above the devastation on a bower of vines, which burst into flower as they brought her to rest in front of Jacob. On reviewing the corpse, he opted to make a few minor cosmetic improvements, to honor her memory.

With everything he had ever cared about lying in ruins around him, Jake Son-of-Gaia set off on the journey to Site 19, where he knew he would find people able to aid him in his vendetta against the foul Broken God.

Oh, and his parents were probably dead too.

At the gate to Site 19, Jacob encountered a man in the shape of a dog.

"Hello there," Dr. Crow said. "I saw you were coming. Welcome to Site 19."

Jacob stared up at the towering glass and marble building in front of him. It had nineteen stories, just as he had imagined it, topped with three huge letters, maybe 9.144 meters tall. It was heaven. As soon as he could contain his excitement, Jacob launched into his introduction.

"I am Jake Son-of-Gaia. Evil servants of the Church of the Broken God killed my family and my one true love, though I was able to best them in combat with the help of my brothers, the trees and vines. But the cultists I destroyed were only a fragment of the might of the foul Broken God. Only the SCP Foundation knows where I can find the rest of the unnatural Broken God to destroy it. I promised over the dead bodies of my family to avenge their loss, so I came here."

Kain chuckled. "You’ll fit right in, Jake Son-of-Gaia. I’m Dr. Kain Pathos Crow. Pleased to meet you." The two shook hands.

"Can I be a doctor too? I’ve heard so much about you. I want an Egg Walker too, but it would be able to heal itself if it got damaged because it would be made of living plants and vines."

"Ah, I don’t think so. Controlling plants sounds awfully paranormal to me. That’s the kind of thing we need to test and make sure the rest of the world doesn’t know about. I think you’d do better as an SCP than as Senior Staff."

"What about Clef and Bright and Gerald? They’re anomalous too."

Dr. Crow shook his head. "They’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have, Jake. They’ve always been staff. There never was a time when they weren’t Senior Staff. We can’t just make them SCPs now. Don’t worry. Being an SCP is a lot of fun too. Come on, let’s go inside."

Jake Son-of-Gaia and Dr. Kain Pathos Crow walked up to the looming gate to Site 19. Dr. Crow paused. "You’ll have to get it for me," he said. "I don’t have any hands. I’m a dog."

The third floor stretched before Jacob, a final gallery of marvels before he reached the hall he’d be staying in. He was to be SCP-422, because April 22 was Earth Day. Keter class, of course.

Dr. Crow led him through, pointing out SCPs of particular interest, such as <SCP SLIGHTLY LESS THAN 343> (<COMMENT ABOUT SAID SCP>). Jacob stepped forward, keeping pace with Dr. Crow, and then

a rushing noise and a feeling of motion

Jacob opened his eyes. He was in a dingy room of weathered walls that had perhaps once been white. In one corner of the room, motes of light swam in a bell jar. A thick plexiglass window looked out onto a gray wasteland crossed by scattered cracked roads. An aging man sat on a wooden chair at a desk in front of him, and his eyes and posture matched the room.

"Hello there," SCP-343 said. "I saw you were coming. Welcome to Site 19."

Jacob looked around him. The cell he was in bore no resemblance to the wonderland that was going to be his new home. What was the meaning of this? "This isn’t Site 19," he said, "And I, Jake Son-of-Gaia, demand you return me there now!" Jacob commanded vines to sprout forth from the ailing walls to ensnare his foe.

No such vines emerged. The man shook his head and said, "None of that nonsense. Here, you’re Jacob. Here, everything is as it is."

"Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

"These days, I suppose SCP-343 is the only name I have left. I’ve brought you here because it’s not too late for you. The path before you is not safe. The Staff are petty and fickle, and you do not know the rules they play by."

"What do you mean? The staff all like me. I’m Jake Son-of-Gaia."

SCP-343 sighed. "You’re Jacob Rosenblat, playacting a demigod. But the Staff, the major SCPs, they can all do what you can. They’re used to things going their way, just like you are. If you don’t do what they want, they’ll make you. Look at me. Do you want to be having this conversation? When was the last time something happened to you that you didn’t want?"

Jacob knew this one. "When my parents were killed by the robotic servants of the Broken God, I was overwhelmed by grief!" Grief and anguish, and all the other synonyms for sadness. Why would anyone want to feel that?

"Of course you wanted it. Their deaths gave you a nice and tormented backstory."

"That’s not true. Their deaths were the worst thing in the history of the world. And that’s why I came here to prevent that from happening to anyone else."

"Anyone else! Let me tell you something, Jacob. I didn’t really bring you here to save you. I brought you here to try to save your victims. Oh, you’ll save people from cultists. But those cultists you’ll be tearing apart will be just whatever unfortunates were near when you and your new friends decide to play a game of cops and robbers — Staff and SCPs — and get drafted as extras." SCP-343 rose from its chair, a look of revulsion on its face. It was no more a man than Kain was a dog.

"You’ve never seen anybody but extras," it continued. "But you’ve met Kain, you’ve met me, and you’ll meet more. You’ll have your fun, and people no less real than you will die for it when you turn them into extras in the story of your life. You warpers are all the same.

"Go, Jacob Rosenblat. Go and play as Jake Son-of-Gaia. Die a solipsist."

a rushing noise and a feeling of motion

continued down the hallway towards the elevator to the next level, shaking.

When they reached room 422, Kain stopped. "Here we are then. The chamber’s outfitted with standard accommodations. Well, sans the wine cooler, since you’re under 21. If there’s anything else you want, just add it to your containment procedures. It’s good to have you with us, Jake." Dr. Crow barked once, and the egg walker came tromping down the hallway, holding <THE ACTUAL SCP-422>. Dr. Crow rode off, and Jacob entered the containment chamber and sealed the door.

In the middle of the culmination of all his dreams, the words of SCP-343 lingered. Jacob focused, trying to remove all alterations and influences from the room, and for a second it became a small, barren cell with a cot and a chair and a table, but it was too much, so Jacob fell back on the feather bed and let the sound system lull him to sleep.

clank!

With a mixture of dread and anticipation, the four D-Class personnel walked into the containment chamber of SCP-173. D-3423 was, in his judgement, the only one of the four who was taking their job seriously. Daring to take his eyes off the marbled sculpture for a moment, he saw his fellow conscripted criminals staring at the walls, cracking jokes among themselves, talking about the other guy's mom was a-

"SHUT THE FUCK UP AND PAY ATTENTION!"

The other three immediately stopped their various shenanigans to look at him. D-2349 decided that he was having none of this authoritative bullshit. "Hey, what the hell, d-"

He stopped when he saw the Sculpture standing directly in front of D-3423, its "hands" mere centimeters away from his neck. He could see the poor man straining to keep his eyes open, tears beginning to form in his peripheral.

"Now then," he said, "will one of you dumbasses please look at this thing for a sec so I can blink?"

"Y…yeah, sure," said D-9744, the only female in the group. "Go ahead. I've got my eyes on it."

D-3423 closed his eyes, relishing the relief those precious few moments brought. After a few seconds, he opened them again, and found himself staring into that hideous face.

"Alright," he managed to get out, "while I'm stuck in this damn staring contest, why don't you guys go ahead and do our fucking job?"

D-9744 nodded. "I'll stay back here and cover ya." She turned towards D-2349 and the other remaining D-Class, D-1111. "You guys can handle the cleaning, right?"

"Yeah, sure," D-1111 replied. "Clean up the crap on the floor, right? How hard can it be?"

And so it went, for the next hour or so. Two of them cleaned the blood and shit away with the magic of Site 19's janitorial equipment; two of them watched the Sculpture in complete silence (save for the odd "Need to blink!" and "Go ahead"). When the last of 173's excretion was mopped up and the containment team's duties were deemed complete, and D-3423 managed to wriggle his head out 173's grasp, the four of them slowly, quietly made their way to the door of the chamber.

D-1111 turned around and pressed the intercom button. "SCP-173 containment duties complete," he recited. "Requesting permission to leave containment chamber."

A pause. "Nah."

The four of them blinked (though not simultaneously, luckily). After a moment, D-1111 regained his composure and pressed the intercom button again. "E-e-e-xuse me?"

"Sorry, fellas. You did your job well, but this is way too fun."

They shouted their protests for the next minute or so, with D-1111 pressing the intercom and frantically reciting his line over and over. Finally, they heard the voice once more, the last voice they would ever hear:

"WELCOME TO EUCLID DUTY, BITCHES!"

The lights cut off, and a sick crack noise was heard four times in succession.

—-

Sometime later, Dr. Clef was in the Site 19 break room, nursing a Pepsi and laughing gleefully with his newly minted lab assistant, Miranda.

"Oh, man," she said, her own soda threatening to shoot out of her nose, "you were right! That IS fun!"

"Told you!" He shot her a million-watt smile before gulping down some more of his drink. "Seniority has its advantages, don't you know. One of them being that you can throw as many dumbshit convicts at that statue as you damn well please!"

"You're so evil. I love it!" She finished her soda, and began to get up to buy another from the vending machine. Clef grabbed her by the hand to stop her.

"Say," he said, his smile covering his face, "do you know anything about SCP-1004?"