SCP: Find Us Alive - 54: Preparing for Nothing

Episode Date: June 7, 2024

The oxygen is low, the gallery is open, the Reset is imminent. This episode was written by Anna Maguire and features the voices of Logan Laidlaw (Harley), Jackson McMurray (Lancaster), Tasch Ritter (Klein), Tabi Bardall (Love), and Anna Maguire (Raddagher). Original music by Jackson McMurray. Sign up for our newsletter at findusalivepodcast.com for updates, info, art, and more. Join us on Patreon for exclusive behind-the-scenes content at www.patreon.com/findusalive! Word of mouth is the best advertising, so be sure to share with your friends if you like the show! This podcast and all content relating to the SCP Foundation are released under a Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0 license. Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Greetings and hello, you fiends. It's me, Anna, writer and director of Find Us Alive, and your only neighbor. Where have all the others gone? I'll never tell. Do you like my new garden? We have some new patrons to thank. A very special thanks to The Bagel Boy, Marcel Lee, Amanda Wood, Wilson Forsyth, Lux Alpaca, Winter Solid 8, and Porotanjero. Thank you all for supporting the show.

I would not be able to make it without you. If you, listener, like this show and want to help us afford food while we make it, check out our Patreon rewards at patreon.com slash find us alive. Or you can make a one-time donation at find us alivepodcast.com under the support tab. That's patreon.com slash find us alive. Thank you for listening and enjoy the episode. We need something calm. Something to keep our heart rates low. Not too much excitement, I figured, but not something stale and boring.

either. Something new. Something we've never done before. But something that could pit all the departments against each other. Have to have that, or half the staff wouldn't bother showing up. Over the last 24 hours, each department has been working on their respective contributions. Volunteers have taken shifts helping me with other preparations. It didn't take much. A few tables and chairs, an area for what food and drink we have left, a station for medical. Considering the time frame, we didn't exactly put our all into decorations. And plenty of departments are already here in AB due to the stationary nature of our projects, which made it all the easier for me to rope people into pushing furniture around.

It'll be a good opportunity to direct some of this nervous energy. I can't be the only one worried. It's the last few hours of the cycle, after all. Officer Nguyen from Security just walked by in her tactual. gear from head to toe like she's going to war. I might be one of the only people who isn't contriving a way to dress up for this. Just my ordinary, unmodified clothing, and my radio pack. Overwatch Command?

It weighs quite a bit. But someone needs to relay messages from the beyond when something inevitably happens to us. Because most everyone will be up in A.B. for the next several hours and with all of us in one place, something worth reporting is bound to happen. A few volunteers from security will be switching in and out of the surveillance office to keep an eye on potential dash ones. It's much easier now that we're all 14Bs, and we're all... I lost my train of thought.

Apologies. We're letting our guard down, focusing on dwindling oxygen. Hoping beyond hope, but nothing will go terribly catastrophically wrong in the next few hours. I am choosing not to freak out about it. I am prepared to do what I can do, and that is going to have to be enough. I am going to have a good time. I'm going to do my best to have a good time.

You ready? Don't know. Are you sure that you should be... Of course I am. I'm fine. Plus, I help the rogue faction make ours, and I want to see it crush all those other losers. I don't think it's a contest. Ingrid, Ingrid, everything is a contest.

Can you help me with my tie? Not a tie, a tie? No. Or, yes. I don't... What, it's a knot? It's different than ropes. Whatever.

I bet Harley knows. I'll make him do it. Have you guys talked yet? Yeah. Are you still mad? Um... I don't... want to be. Then don't be.

Okay. Great. Because I need him to tie my tie. Where did you get a tie? Good evening, Sight-O-1. The lights in the A-B floor are dimmed, the air, thick as it may be, smells like whatever we could put together

to pass as a meal this late in the cycle. Soup, rice. We got somewhat clever with the MRE packs. And set up all around the edges of the A-B-floor are the art pieces you've all worked so diligently to prepare. We put together quite the gallery in here. I'm surprised at what my colleagues have managed to throw together in just 24 hours. Allow me to describe a few of them to you, Overwatch Command.

Nearest to me, we have a sculpture by records. I am looking at a life-size, human-shaped construction of paper machet. It looks like it's made entirely of scraps of documents that would otherwise be high, up on our ladder of secrecy, but in its current state, I doubt anyone would be able to decode anything from it in the few hours before it all gets reset back into its boxes and filing cabinets. I can see redactions, warning notices, and handwritten notes on the surface, shredded to scraps and smeared with glue. It's surprisingly detailed. The anatomy looks nearly perfect. There are even nostril holes in the nose. Wait, there is a large crack along the back of the torso and head.

I think they put a person in here to get the shape right. They have titled it, staff member. I wonder which staff member it is specifically. Psychology's designated corner is empty. I thought it would have been strange for them of all departments to abstain from participating until I read a piece of paper taped to the wall that explained that psychology's art piece is, Mm. All of...

Naturally, this means that instead of creating a singular piece, like other departments, psychology has instead followed in Lancaster's footsteps and modified their clothes. Shorts, of course, but also various strategically placed cuts in shirts, some accent work of safety pins and string, plenty of highlighter and ballpoint detailing. And Kumari, who has cut a number of empty Red Bull cans in half and used them to create what looks like samurai adjacent plate armor. And there he goes.

Hey, how'd things go with Masterson? Uh. Why did he, um, do that? Anyway. After getting inoculated, he said he found all kinds of things in their cage that could have formed a dash one. With our findings about twos, he was afraid of it happening to them naturally. He was scared they'd turn on him if he didn't do it himself.

Would they? I don't know. man-made dash twos are loyal to their creator. We know that. And we don't have any examples of pets being transformed naturally, or the other way. Oh, like Gravitz Tree? Yeah. Is he going to do it to the other one, too?

Don't think so. Lala does such a good job of destroying potential dash ones. I don't think he'd have to. And also, we told him that he'd have restricted visiting hours if he did it again. So he won't do it again. Order up. And what? And so can I ask what was in that one?

Moonshine and Gatorade. Want one? No? You? I know. It's terrible. But it gets the job done. Can I get you something else? Nah. Good for you.

Kling, that stuff is disgusting. I don't... It's not hard to not drink it. Maybe for you. Has Harley ordered anything? Nope. That's good. I'm a little worried about everybody.

I wouldn't be. Why not? Sounds like Records isn't going to brew anything next cycle. Oh, really? They're getting... They're souring on the battery acid? I can smell the stomach ulcers from this stuff. What about botany?

I don't know. Haven't talked to them about it. I know they're all worried about Featherman, though. She's been overdoing it a little. But you've talked to records? Yeah. Recone. Have to know your enemy.

How about a mock tale then? I could make you something real shitty so you wouldn't miss out on the experience of drinking paint thinner like the rest of us. There's... I saw you have grape juice concentrate back there? I do. I'll take a shot of that. Mmm, gross.

Coming right up. This is my performance art piece. I call it Burden of the Head of Communications. The burden is specifically this radio pack, which weighs a lot, and is making my shoulders quite sore. I'm sure there's a metaphor in there somewhere. But moving right along, research has made quite a fine piece. A series of core samples drilled not only from the exposed rock in BH9,

but other places on the site as well. A long tube of never-ending drywall. A cylinder of insulation with a chunk of wooden support beam in the middle. A chute of linoleum and concrete. View of our sight from angles we rarely think about. Very scientific to no one's surprise. a clever use of their skills and equipment. And over here we have security.

Another sculpture. It is a thorny amalgamation of pieces of tables and chairs, disassembled and reassembled. All the screws put back in the wrong places. It's vaguely threatening. It feels like it's trying to reach toward me. I can't stop trying to make sense of it. the shape because it's made out of pieces of tables and chairs, but it is neither a table nor a chair. It is something wholly unfamiliar and possibly hostile. They have titled it. They have titled it

collapse of B.C. 2. So, how are you liking it? Yeah, me too. It feels wrong. What do you mean? Doesn't feel like something we're supposed to do. And what are we supposed to do, do you think? I don't know. What do you think about the art? I don't really care. Not even about securities piece? It's pretty good.

Might win the popular vote. I didn't do anything with it. You're still allowed to have opinions about it. I don't have any opinions about it. That's all right. I didn't work on the research one either. I was busy helping with setup and running supplies for people. Not really the artsy type.

I'm the surveillance type. You're also the boats type. No, only in my head. Not in real life. I'm the outdoors type in my head. Used to be in real life. Now I'm the research type. Hmm.

You're the lover type too. In real life. Not if we get out. What do you mean? they move her. I don't know. Could always quit. Hmm.

Any of us be without maintenance. Starving most likely. Starving and living in filth. For their piece in our makeshift gallery maintenance has drawn a series of portraits of one another. They have used pens and pencils on lined legal paper. It's nice. I don't know how else to describe. but just a row of papers stuck to the wall with staples

because no one cares about punching holes in the drywall if they'll be gone soon anyway. Most of them are not particularly good drawings, even to my untrained eye, but each one is still different. Different strokes with the pen, different graphite smudges where hands rested, different shapes to the eyes and the hair.

I feel a little embarrassed that I don't know who's being depicted in most of these. The features are so simple and rudimentary. But I can see that many of them. The full body drawings are sitting down with objects in their hands. I imagine they all sat and drew each other all at once. There's a intimacy to it, a vulnerability. I think it's much harder to make something imperfect and display its imperfection. I don't know how to draw either, but looking at all these makes me want to.

So? So? You know I was looking for that tie? Finders, keepers. Psychology's going to win. You shut the fuck up. You know we are. Look at me.

Look at my pants. Oh, you look like shit. I'm making a statement. Your statement is, I'm ugly. Yeah, yeah? What did the rogue faction do, huh? Where? Um, shit, what's it called?

What? The word where you make something that's really, it's an art word. An art word? Yeah, people say it for art. Help me out. I can't remember. Can you describe it more? It's like when you make something that's really important or like... Can you put it in a sentence?

This guy's painting has a, you know, blank, the art world. Has revolutionized? No, it's got... It has to do with, um... It's, like it's going past everything else. Transcend? Oh, transcend! Yes, ours has transcended. He seemed like you're in a good mood. I am in a good mood.

How about, you know, physical? physical, wise. Fine. Oof. I'm sick of people asking me that. We're just concerned, that's all. Can you be less concerned? Can you act normal?

Sure. I'll admit the rogue faction piece is fun. I'll give you that. I guess psychology is pretty funny. Oh, I'm taking a break. My shoulders are killing me. Carrying this thing around as a game for a younger man, I think.

I'm still trying to remain optimistic. I wish I could say I feel better the closer we get to the reset. No word from the surveillance office. Everyone up here seems as relaxed as they can be. There's a chance that they're simply better at faking it than I am. The air quality is deteriorating. The doors to the hallway are open. We position fans all over the floor to help with the airflow.

Medical has a station set up with all our own. remaining tanks of Votou from their wing, letting people take a hit if they need to. Anyone who has a potted plant has brought it up here, but botany tells me that we'll make a difference. Looks nice, though. It's uncomfortable, but it's not deadly. It's not even low enough to be truly dangerous to most of us.

And yet, I can't shake the feeling that things will get worse. I fear that the closer we get to resetting, the more severe the consequences. We're not preparing for anything. We're not battening down the hatches or gearing to survive another crisis. We're vulnerable. Yeah? What?

So you're sitting here, wanted to come say hi. Hi. Hi. You having a good time? Uh, trying. Why don't you put down the radio and come socialize with some of us? I will socialize when I can figure out how to calm my nerves. What do I have to be nervous about?

Oh, the air running out. The dash one going off. A previously unnoticed colony of dash twos waiting to eat us while we sleep. Dash twos don't eat people. Not as far as we know. Well, if anything like that happens, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. We're not going to prepare. Are we not already prepared?

I'm very prepared. Oh, and you're the only one, you think. What do you think of research as peace? I like it. Do you like it more than everyone else's? Klein. Come on. Yeah, I'm messing with you.

I know it doesn't even compete with securities. Or medicals. Or medicals. I can't believe they did that in 24 hours. I can. Look how tired they all are. Gravid isn't here? Neither is always.

She knows she's invited, right? Yeah, containment wouldn't exclude her. And I think Gravett skipped because, you know, she's old, and she's always hated this kind of thing. Hopefully she'll come up to see what the other doctors did. Yeah. And you throw it over your arm, like, and you don't have to tie it around yourself, you can tie it to anything. Originally, they were used for tying square sails to the yard arm to keep them from blowing in the wing.

Ingrid! Hey! Did you do the rogue faction piece? That's the painting on the floor, right? Yeah, yeah! I saw it. Yeah, but did you do it? Hmm?

Did you do it? Did you walk through the maze? I didn't know you were supposed to... Of course you are! It represents, like, getting out. Getting out of here, back to the real world. Right. I've done it before. I had to get help from Zerick, though.

Brain stuff, you know. Yeah. Dumb truck is also a part of it. What does he do? He's the, the monster, the monster in the maze? The Minotaur! Yeah, that one. Hey, you okay?

I'm fine. Gonna get some water. Engineering has made a piece of a different medium. They have finished more of their 3D model and are using a projector to throw it up onto one of the white walls. They have a computer set up on a folding table where one can sit and move the model around. I believe the statement of this piece is,

the blueprints of this place were designed by a madman. Botany has also made a piece. I do not care to describe it. The atmosphere is... Calm. I'm even beginning to feel good about it. Maybe that's unwise and I should hold out for another. hour, but it's nice not to worry.

My colleagues mill around the A-B floor, they look at the artwork their peers made. They have quiet discussions over truly abysmal cocktails. Some of them sit in folding chairs fanning themselves with pieces of paper. The lights are half on casting the floor into an unusual dimness. Nearly everyone has put some effort toward their appearance. makeup or hairstyles or however they could style what few clothing options we have available. But I also see Wauki-Tockys clip to belts, a few holstered tasers, flares protruding from back pockets. Maybe we are safe after all.

Safe and breathing in one another's air closer than we ever have before. But we're all right. No thanks to you, Saito One. Still talking to that thing? I've been carrying it around all night. It feels like a companion to me. If I stop talking into it now, I might feel bereft. Ah.

Something wrong? Talked to Gloria. All this out there. She poked her head in to see how it was going. Did you tell her she's welcome? Yeah. She told me she doesn't know what to do with herself anymore. Everything is so different now.

I can understand that I told her what you said That she could come in if she wanted She said she knows that nobody wants her up here She knows people are still mad about Everything Not everyone I think most of us understand the stress she was under

I do Hmm We're not the foundation anymore, are we No I don't think so What are you? are we then? I don't know. I think we're still figuring that out. Well, whatever we are, I hope it's something cool. Yeah. Holy shit. I didn't think she was coming. Medical's installation is another

painting. Nearly photorealistic. They projected an image onto the wall and traced it once again in red. It would have been the most striking thing on the entire floor if it weren't partially hidden in an alcove near the kitchen doors. Just about six feet high, maybe seven feet wide. Gravitz eyes. Even in monochrome, I recognize them. Sharp and clear, framed in wrinkles from scowling in concentration. One of the most recognizable sets of eyes in the sight, I would estimate.

I didn't use my radio while she was here. I didn't want to be rude. Her appearance was unexpected. Even the rest of medical seemed surprised to see her. A few moments after she walked in the door, we all tried to return to her conversations, collectively pretending we weren't watching her. She walked slowly across the open space to medical's painting.

Their painting of her. She stood in front of it, her hands clasped behind her back, and she didn't move for some time. It's the first time I've... gathered the nerve to initiate conversation with her myself. I'm not sure what came over me. I've been speaking with people all evening, and it seemed a shame to leave her out of it.

If she wanted to be involved, then I was going to involve her. Somehow, I wasn't even nervous. She told me in her low, gravel and blades voice, that she doesn't belong here anymore. She said that she's happy. She doesn't. Then I asked her what she meant. She chuckled and said it's a relief that we don't need her anymore. I contested that statement telling her that we do need her,

that she's the best surgeon we have, and she saved Love's life. She said that wasn't what she was referring to. I couldn't get her to say anything more after that. And then she left. A few brief glances between. her and the other doctors and nurses and she went straight back out the main doors to disappear into her office once again and i don't know i feel like i'm not very scared of her anymore are you starting to fade yeah i'm ready for it to be done me too i'm ready to have a

working o2 recycler again right radiger dumb truck sit we're down to minutes Think fuck You look like you had fun High on grief juice You all ready for the reset I'm still waiting on something On what? I don't know something

Whatever goes wrong Why does something have to go wrong Because that's what's always happened What if it doesn't this time Yeah what if there's a wildcard effect And it's really cool Like what if it makes us all buff Oh what if indeed

Anybody have any plans For next cycle I've been thinking about poking around in the rock in BH9. Did you know they used to find Opal in here? What does Opel have to do with escaping? Nothing really. I just wanted to do some real geology stuff again. It's been a while.

Well, my plan for next cycle is to get a haircut, and my plan for we get out is to get a better haircut. I don't think we're ever getting out. That's not true. What if it is true? And we're all wasting our time. What if we just... Don't.

Don't. What if we put the escape plan on the back burner for a while? What if we put more of our energy toward making this a nice place to, I don't know, be, to live? I don't know how much more we can really do to make it less of a sterile tunnel system. I think there's plenty we could do. Look at everything we've made. Maybe we don't have to limit morale escapades to the end of the science. Are you giving up?

No, we should still think about escaping and try what we can. But I'm tired. We don't have any leads right now. If we never get out... Wait, let me finish. If we never get out, I don't want to die in here grinding toward a goal I'll never have. I want to know that I had as good a life as I was able,

even if it was confined to an underground labyrinth. And this is a too-we. And this is a two-way street, isn't it? Why should we be the ones putting in all the work? The outside has more resources than us, more expertise at their disposal. Why not let them shoulder the load for a while? I was to say they haven't been trying. I am.

Cytoc1 has more than enough resources to find us. They could get us out if they really wanted to. Maybe they didn't have enough people? Well, they don't have enough people because they keep letting us die. We can't be certain we will ever escape. But we can be certain of what we have right. right now, which is mostly each other. Maybe we can build something that actually resembles a life in here.

That's pretty far from ideal. We're foundation staff. Was it ever going to be? That's the countdown. Okay, see you in a few minutes when you dig me out of my office. Ingrid, meet me in my room? Yeah, after digging out BC2. And you have to get a highway back in his cell.

Yeah. Well, I shall see you all on this crisp once again. Well then, I have to go dig my friend out of some rubble Overwatch command. We would love it if you looked for us. But I'm not holding my breath. And I have more important matters to attend to. Goodbye. Episode 54 was written and produced by Anna McGuire.

The voice of Harley is Logan Laylaw. The voice of Klein is Tosh Ritter. The voice of Lancaster is Jackson McMurray. The voice of Agent Love is Tabby Bardahl. The voice of Radiger is Anna McGuire. The voice of Cordell is Ashley Quills. Original music by Jackson McMurray. If you like our show and want to support us,

sign up for our newsletter at Find Usalivepodcast.com. This podcast, along with all content relating to the SCP Foundation, is released under a Creative Commons share-alike 3.0 license. Thank you for listening.