F.P.P.A. (IC)

[Farewell]

Subject 11 out cold breathed weakly, she looked as if she was peacefully sleeping. however the blood, and wounds didn't make it seem like that. The alien hybrid winced from the pain as she was being healed. As she was unconscious she could hear the muffled voices unsure what they were saying and a bit of light from her closed eyes from the room she was in.

[Angder]

Fout had finished helping Jacob and now sat on one of the beds closest to the wall in the infirmary Facing said wall, his eyes shut, his Friends had been torn apart in front of him, his only hope for revenge denied.

useless Fout. Pathetic Fout.

This whole time he had done nothing to affect the events here.

worthless Fout...

Fout curls up on the bed, not crying, barely even feeling the depression that was tearing him apart. The Fout the people running the facility had hired was gone.  Galan, Japathok, the building as a whole, had all contributed to destroying his mind. There was nothing left but a shell full of madness and fear...

[Jacob Hail]

Jacob used a few flesh graphs to mend the sliced muscles in Subject 11s tail, then finished by sealing off the wound with the laser. The fox walked over to a draw and pulled out another syringe, injecting the fluid into the alien. The medicine inside it should make up for the blood loss. Jacob sat back and let out a heavy breath, looking over Zaida then over to Fout, who seemed to be completely broken. That would be quite a few trips to the shrink.

[HollowOfHaze]

Walking through the door frame of the medbay, Galen looked at the fox as he tended to Subject 11's wounds.


"If you ever want to work for an organization with any common sense, I could put in a good word for you at the Foundation." he said, taking a moment to look down at his human fingers. The lack of claws felt... strange.

[Angder]

Fout's ears perk up, and his fur stands on end as he hears Galans voice.

[Angder]

(6 days... Think its time to end it with some finishing summing up posts)

2 months later --

Fout wakes up, sitting groggily in his room. The smallest available to him. scarcely better than a cell. Slowly he rise sto his feet, and puts on his clothes, expressionless. He then slumps against the wall. Within this room he felt safe, it is his room. The doctors stayed out of it. for a second Fout loses himself to an imaginary world, the world before all of this.

All good things must pass. Eventually Fout leaves the room. He has to get food, that means talking to them again. They said someday he would go free again, when he was well. He knew that would never happen. He would never be well. He is pathetic and incompetent, and also mad. He ps a wreck.

The worst part is he is completely aware of this fact. He is trapped in his own body which was going through the motions of being a complete person, but never quite managing it.

~~~

In a small conical glass container sits Judge. Or at least that was its name on this day. it was a small lizard, curled up, looking out at the room outside. He saw the door open, and the huge figure walks over to him, picking up his entire container. "GOOD MORNING SCP. JUST GIVING YOU YOUR STANDARD FOOD AND I WILL BE OFF AGAIN" The words were not that loud, but they reverberated in the container, combined with Judges tiny size made it nearly deafening. The lid of the flask had a tiny hole in it, Through that hole came a trickle of water. Judge moves over and drinks from this trickle. It was demeaning, but it was all the lizard got. There were some chunks in the water, breadcrumbs. The lizard eats those to. The fact is it is trapped. The foundation has him perfectly contained, monitored his biomass.

Still the things mind dreams of freedom. an ever bubbling maelstrom of rebellion and madness. Someday those dreams will be answered.

But not today, and probably not tomorrow either.