SCP-11 Containment Class: Keter Harm Potential: Too high to count Moral Decay: See above Special Containment Procedures: >SCP-11 sufferers are to be loudly ridiculed until the Herd Mentality can bring their minds into normalcy. Effective angles of attack include asking how it breathes in there, how it could possibly get in there, how it gets out, etc. Description: >SCP-11 is the notion that babies are not only grown inside their mothers, but exit via the [REDACTED]. Those afflicted by this cognitohazard believe there is a correlation between the mother's gradual fattening, the currently-existing siblings being moved to a friend's house, and the seemingly-but-not-really suspicious loss of gravidity and addition of a baby sibling upon their return. This delusion is not pony-centric, affecting any intelligent life which does not lay eggs(1); of particular note is that SCP-063 and 063-G are also afflicted by SCP-11, which is an unusual break in the trend of their mental resistance.(2) >(1): "Birds poop eggs" is a publicly-accepted scientific fact; if this topic is broached in therapeutic research sessions, the testfriend should emphasize the fact that ponies are not birds. >(2): 063 claims to have witnessed firsthand the 'birth' of 063-G; 063-G is likewise largely unfazed by these ideas, going so far as to claim her brother had 'an awkward talk with lots of picture books' approximately 1.5 years after her entry to Equestria. These books have been tentatively catalogued as SCP-11-B, and the search is ongoing. >WARNING: APPROACHING HARMONY-LEVEL CLASSIFIED INFORMATION >PROCEED BEYOND THIS POINT ONLY IF YOU HAVE COMMAND OVER A THAUMIEL-CLASS PROJECT OR O4 OVERRIDE CODES >FAILURE TO PROVIDE ACCESS AUTHORIZATION WILL RESULT IN IMMEDIATE TERMINATION OF EMPLOYMENT AND ERASURE OF VITAL INTELLIGENCE VIA AMNESTIC AGENT "IRISH ROSE" >THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING. ACCESSING THE PASSWORD SCREEN EQUALS CONSENT TO THESE TERMS. Y/N? Y >QUIZFILLY SECURITY SYSTEMS PRESENTS: >A QUIZ! >Type your answers. Our patented inspelligence golem can parse some spelling errors, but to be safe please spell things correctly! It sure would suck to lose your job and memory of the last 10 years over typing 'cheez' instead of 'cheese' huh? >Question 1: Where does the baby come from? A: The tummy >Correct but not acceptable. One more chance. >Question 1: Where, in scientific terms, does the baby come from? A: After maturation, the fetus exits the mother's uterus via the vagina (birth canal). >Analyzing. >Correct and acceptable. >Questions 2 through 99 deemed unnecessary >ACCESS GRANTED. ----- SCP-11 Containment Class: Keter Harm Potential: Minor Moral Decay: Normally minor; extreme and untreated cases could theoretically be civilization-ending Special Containment Procedures: >SCP-11 is to be monitored and responded to according to each regional commander's discretion via methods listed in the public-facing SCP entry. Scattered minor cases are inevitable and largely harmless to the point of being non-anomalous; severe outbreaks can sow intense distrust between the sexes in their youths and irreversibly stunt the romantic growth of otherwise eligible parents. Description: >SCP-11 is the state of distress and disgust caused by an adolescent pony learning the true process of sex, pregnancy and birth (SCP-11-A for the purposes of this document) before the core instincts are unlocked via the final stage of puberty. SCP-11 does not affect young foals; they will simply ignore the information given, or assume it is part of a ghost story, if informed verbally. >Adolescent foals who obtain this information(3) will experience an intense disgust towards the female anatomy (if male) or intense trepidation towards the idea of being entered or giving birth (if female). While small amounts of these negative feelings can be written off as a perfectly normal sense of bewilderment and nervousness towards such new and earthshaking information, the herd mentality effect can cause a catastrophic snowballing that leaves an entire town with no new foals for years(4). >Foals who bear witness to a creature giving birth are largely immunized to SCP-11; while both sexes display a combination of disgust, fear and curiosity, these negative feelings are far lesser than the existential rage observed in adolescent victims. Given the high marriage and birth rates of ponies who work closely with animals or as doctor's assistants, this phenomenon may even heighten a pony's inclination towards foalraising. >(3): Via videographical evidence, sufficiently detailed written word accompanied with pictographic aids, or Meg forbid: walking in on their parents procreating with no 'wrestling' blanket. Merely knowing "foals come from inside mares" is not enough to trigger SCP-11. >(4): Which has a catastrophic affect on the morale of every demographic, especially the foals waiting to be born (see: the isekai incident) ----- >>40940079 >>40940274 SCP-11-A Containment Class: Thaumiel Harm Potential: Negative however much harm it takes to kill one pony Moral Decay: Potentially extinction-level; refer to SCP-11 documentation Special Containment Procedures: >SCP-11-A is a normal aspect of life and does not require containment. SCP-11-A is in fact necessary for the survival of all known civilizations due to its ability to counteract natural population decline. Premature knowledge of its mechanisms has proven to be extremely distressing on lifeforms who have yet to reach intellectual maturity, which requires constant consideration as per SCP-11's containment measures. Description: >SCP-11-A refers to sex, pregnancy and birth. Anypony able to access this document has at least the bare minimum understanding of this, so this document will not detail the processes. Instead, Foundation agents have enlisted HHM(5) Twilight Velvet to share her knowledge and theories on how and why our physiology is so different from that of feral animals; HHM is a board-certified Mother of Two and professor of foalology, at the near-scandalously young age of 87.(6) >A pony will naturally experience three distinct stages of their ~250 year lifespan: Foalhood, Adulthood and Old. An exceptionally long transition period exists between foalhood and adulthood, commonly called either adolescence or being a young mare/stallion, beginning at 15 in most cases and lasting to anywhere between 50 and 150 years of age(7). >A pony is technically fully-grown and capable of siring/bearing life by age 20, and this is accompanied by an intense interest in the opposite sex. Said interest will differ from pony to pony; some groups continue to prioritize same-sex cameraderie until one day they all start planning a family with the same stallion. Others will immediately shift to focus on a ritualized, romantic friendship with a dedicated partner.(8) >Neither party will naturally become fully aware of their different biology. Most colts will understand and accept that fillies simply 'pee different' and vice versa, with some occasional fixation on the "mystery" of the opposite sex. For most foals, that's it- half or more of their lives may be spent with a fully mature body and the brain of a schoolfoal, just barely able to channel their reproductive hormones into something that won't produce foals. >That is, until two things happen: One, their love matrix sends and receives mirrored signals with their future mate(9). Two, their harmonic matrix detects a less-than-optimal number of ponies for their current environment's food production and living space. If both conditions are met, you have a marriage to plan. Without these conditions? Well, [REDACTED] >(5): Her/His Highness's Mommy, a royal title given to the currently-living... bearer of any crown-bearer. It is also honorarily given to Princess Celestia's current seneschal, for some reason. Point is: MOMMA'S GOT A TITLE, BABY >(6): Flattery isn't going to get you out of spring cleaning, Shining. Broom, mop, the house I raised you in, 0800 SHARP. Bring my granddaughter. >(7): 100 is the mean age of maturity; adulthood and pregnancy have been observed in as young as 15 and as old as 200. >(8):You and Cady were so cute, with all your explosive breakups and third, fourth, and fifth wheel lovers JUST so you could reconcile with a big dance number! I still have your little greaser outfit, you looked so sharp! >(9): Typically described as kaleidoscopic tunnel vision and a sensation of anxiety in the stomach, and visible to careful observers as a glowing heart pictogram in the pupils. ----- >Twilight walked through the Foundation's oldest archives >Past thousands of years worth of history >The Foundation was not yet old enough to have outlived the first generation of ponies it protected >Yet its lineage was as old as the two sisters. >Older houses, some more brutal, some more foolish >All took the sacred oath: >To bravely face the dark, and carry the light of knowledge into it >To let ponies sleep soundly, never needing to know what goes bump in the night >To giggle at the ghosties, and hope they giggle back >The ponies who served the Knights Stabler, the Illuminated Cavalry, The Gentlemares' Scientific Society >All of them, long gone to their final bedtime >But the Foundation was here, doing the same thing, in its own way >Kind of like Twilight to her great grandparents- >She giggled >That made it sound like paramilitary research divisions could have babies >If that were the case, then this is Grampy Founder's photo album? >She walked onwards for hours, following magical signs only alicorns could read >When those ran out, she gauged her direction by the itchy tingle of warding spells, shrugged off by the sheer weight of her magical locus >There it was >At the end of a hall lined with statues, all of which took the appearance of the viewer's disapproving mother >A whirring white box, with a glowing screen >Only four arrow buttons, no quills or pens, nowhere you could write on if it had one, this was a con- >A microphone >It was voice-activated "Hello?" >"WARNING: THE FOLLOWING INFORMATION IS CLASSIFIED AT LEVEL "RAINBOW OF LIGHT." NO LEGAL CODE EXISTS FOR SUCH A BREACH OF SECURITY. NO LEGAL PROTECTIONS EXIST FOR ONE WHO COMMITS IT. PROCEED AT THY OWN PERIL." "Acknowledged?" >Database entry 'SCP-11' contains heavily edited entries >Including one entry presented as accurate and top-clearance >Display unaltered entry? "Celestia, you don't have to talk like a computer, what's wr-" >Display unaltered entry? "UGH! Yes?" >Celestia's voice came in on the crackling speakers >She read the initial documentation with mild amusement, as if reducing this object to a single number was the drollest anecdote of the entire social season >Yet, soon the humor gave way to pain and passion. Perhaps Twilight would have been happier if she'd left then- but no, Celestia needed her to know this. >Celestia had never steered her wrong; even when every sign pointed to her having done so, she still ended up being right in the end >Even Shining's wedding- she'd planned on making herself look stupid and mean... >And somehow that helped? >Ok, one error from everyone having a bad day on just the worst day to have a bad day. >She's been right most of the time in her bajillion year lifespan! >She must be right about this, too: ----- SCP-11 Containment Class: Thaumiel Harm Potential: Far less than what we knew without it. Moral Decay: No. Special Containment Procedures: >SCP-11 is the most critical defense in our war with cosmic indifference. >99 tribes of flutterponies taken as concubines. Fields of dying babes. Mothers worked to death in the mines. Fathers conscripted by Tirac, dead in a pit with his best charioteers. I, Sundancer of Ponyland, witnessed all of this and more. Until one night, my sister and I took new names in the shade of a nameless wood, and I, Celestia, swore "never again." >The Transcendence Protocol. Does. Not. Require. Containment. Description: >Does Her guiding hand fall too heavily on the unlucky few? Yes. Never out of cruelty- some ponies just need a firmer hand, or to accept that no foal could be bad enough to deserve them as parents! If you knew how much each mistake wounded her- how much constant attention this delicate equilibrium required, and how wide is the rack which stretches Her very soul, you would.... >You would know how much you are loved. Which is why I called you here. Part of your job is to counsel those thus afflicted. To keep this phenomena at a level of "amusing, foalish antics" rather than "maddened animals, braying at the denial of their loins." The procedure is thus: you, my most faithful student, will sit here and learn. You will share the burden of what I have done, what I am doing, and what I will continue to do. >Afterwards? I believe you will walk away with more happiness than you entered with. Or, at the minimum, a newly adamantine sense of purpose. You're about to face the Dark. With it, you will understand our hearth. >Where to begin? I'll assume you know our ancient history- the sanitized version, at least. The monster attacks, the narrow escapes from slavery, the kind stranger who always answered our cries. The truth of these times is far less clean, and even less happy. >Everypony knows who the Pearl Mother is. Everypony knows the tales of her adventures, the Binder of Centaurs. A few foals have even thought to ask, "why did the ponies in the first stories never show up again?" Typically the answer is "these stories are set eons apart, silly!" or "nopony actually knows who they were so we just make it up!" >I know, Twilight. >I know their names, their faces. >They died. >They did not die eons apart. >And they did not die well, surrounded by family, a priest with words of comfort. >Theirs were sputtering, fearful deaths >Cold, water, war, disease, famine, the stomach of some indescribable beast, >Many were the times the living were not even afforded the solace of a burial >One day, your daughter just didn't come home. And you never knew if she found a nice colt and settled down >Or if she fell and broke her neck >Or if she now festered in the bowels of some indescribable thing. >Yes, I know this pain personally. You do not want to know how many foals I had outlived, even before my ascension. ----- >I see you despairing already. Yes, there's a camera. No, you don't have one, I... I can't bear you seeing me like this. >I did not bring you here to shake your spirit. Know that this phenomenon is just... growing pains. It is less frequent and severe now than it was even two generations prior. >Your work. Her work. >They are bearing fruit. >Be not afraid: We. Are. Healing. >Remember that as we continue >Back to the topic at hoof >Megan would come back after a year and recognize but a few faces. >The numbers never seemed to fluctuate >Because there were always refugees fleeing from somewhere >Because her old friends were dead, cold as the clay in which they now laid. >You have never faced true evil, Twilight >You have faced victims of bullying who couldn't stop retaliating, you have faced bullies who were never taught anything else >True evil is only visible in the empty skies, as you gaze upwards from the hundredth grave you've dug in half as many days >Innocent creatures forced into conflict because there simply wasn't enough to eat if they didn't >Loving parents forced to breed round the clock, because extinction was the alternative >So many eyes opened, only to close forever before they blossomed >I have seen true evil >I have BEEN true evil- did you think such a foe as despair herself could be defeated cleanly? >Yet, if I have succeeded, you will NEVER face true evil >I care not what judgement might await me >Cast me into fire, into darkness >Beyond all hope of rescue or reprieve >My people may yet be free of despair >That knowledge alone is worth every Hell. >Sorry. I get lost in the memory of those days >Memory and my need to ensure you are armed with knowledge >Knowledge... Yes. Stop talking in circles, stop fixating on all the- FUCK, I'm doing it again! >Knowledge! >Sir Daniel always loved bringing us books >One day, the pickings were quite slim. The only books that wouldn't be missed from his home were some treatises on forest management >Forestry proved quite the- aha- fruitful topic. The topic that made all the others make sense at last. >It described hunting wild deer as a necessary, even kind, act >Not just to the hunter who earns his daily bread >To the deer as well- for their behavior was learned generationally, to thrive under predation from wolves >Remove the wolves, and you don't get happy deer- >Well, you do- for a little while. Then they all starve, because the greenery can't provide for that many deer >Now many of them must starve, so their blood can feed the new greenwood >I can guess what you're thinking, my dear- no, increasing the greenery won't fix it. The deer don't know any better, they can't know any better, they'll just keep making more of themselves than there are plants to eat, unless there are wolves standing by to eat the slow ones. ----- >Mmm, yes, you're understanding now, why our species can breed at 15, but doesn't? >It wasn't always like this >Because you were a mare at 5. FIVE! >And an old nag at 25- dead at 30! >Yet ever since that silly fashion show, when my horns and wings flickered, I hadn't aged a day. >Yes, Twilight- Magic, of course. We know that now. >Try to keep in mind, at the time, I was a dead-eyed klutz who'd been to more funerals than parties. >I did not have a wide frame of reference at the time >Nor much time to stop and ponder >How we were living a bit longer >How our foraging parties came back full more often than they used to >Well, I knew this, but I did not understand it >We all thought it was solely because the fierce, bald, fair-maned apes were protecting us >They were, of course- and you have two of their kind on your payroll, if you require evidence >But the sheer improbability of forging a friendship with them was what mattered more >Friendship is magic, but magic is friendship as well >If only I had been a sage, I could have realized sooner >I could have saved more.. >I.. Hm, I'm spiraling again. Where was I? >Nature! >Centuries passed in Paradise Estate >Ponies stopped letting Moony and I leave, we didn't age but that didn't mean death had no dominion >Ponies valued our minds; for though Paradise enjoyed longer lives than most, that still only meant a pony could die at 40, or even 50, if she had a safe job and a foalhood of constant good harvests. >The greatest service we could provide was simply having lived long enough to see the patterns of history play out >It left us with much time to ponder Nature >Nature is no mother- she is but the architect of a grand machine >She cares not for you, or any other component- that which breaks shall be replaced >The plates keep spinning, the machine keeps running- I'm sure it's beautiful, when you're not one of the parts ground to a nub and thrown back in the smelter. >Always one or two plates breaking, so the others could stay spinning >But what if one could balance every plate, simultaneously? >Nature cares not for us >Nature is cold and often cruel, but never willfully unfair- she is the embodiment of all mortal clay >She does not begrudge when an arm of her toy breaks itself- that is a part of its design, and she is equally content in observing the well-oiled pistons as she is marking the scatter of a blown casing. All outcomes are acceptable, so long as the machine keeps going in some form. >She cares for nothing else, it often seemed >Save perhaps that homage was paid to her one, iron law: strength >Thus, I reasoned: could one be strong enough to set the machine according to their own whims? >Could one take the throne from the forest queen? Would such a victory be honored, or would Nature finally play favorites? >And how would I do such a thing? How can one assail a castle that does not exist, and depose a king who only exists as a metaphor for the absurdity of life itself? ----- >Hope and prosperity ebbed and flowed, as the centuries wore on, as they did in those days >My theory of magic = lifespan was proving correct >The Williamses were still with us, though even in this land of magic they were starting to get on in years >Ponies' theoretical lifespans were approaching what we now consider 'really sad but at least kind of not unfair for a pony with those eating habits.' >Practical lifespans were still quite low on average >The scattered tribes of ponyland warred over dwindling resources, as mage lords and demons wreaked havoc with hoarded magic >Yes, Twilight, we're getting to the hearthswarming tale! >Recall how I said, "magic is friendship"- yes, Magic can be kinder than Nature- by virtue of caring about anything, it's kinder than Nature >It is a double-edged sword, however >Magic comes from, and creates, intelligent souls >Magic needs narrative, needs factions, needs ideas >Magic delights in weighty and unlikely tales, and harsh lessons taught hard >Where Nature is content to simply allow her children to kill each other over food >Magic requires meaning, pomp, circumstance >Magic sees the poor fucking infantry who kept dying in my place, whenever some two-bit PONCE from a segregated tribe considered our unity a threat >Magic would rather see the royal guard, laid to rest with laurels for defending his god-queen >Magic also sees the dead assassin was a noble's son, and says "why not a 10 year war? It will make a fun tale, of knights and princesses and-" >And it is indeed a fun tale, so long as you're not one of the thousands of conscripts who dies in a pit of mud, shit and blood. Nor the princess, whose letters of regret are becoming rather boilerplate. >All for the family squabble of two bastards you've never actually met. >I will never forgive Sombra. Nor myself. >Right, sorry, spiraling? Okay.. >So, we knew we'd have to do something GLORIOUSLY stupid and hackneyed >Our enemies were two halves of the same coin >One needed to be given a face and a name and a fortress to assault >Banners raised in the name of something purer than mere survival >Carried by those who truly believed >And we'd only have the one shot for our little play >To tame Magic itself, with a willing sacrifice for a voodoo doll- perhaps stupid enough to work, but only because it's an ORIGINAL kind of stupid >The other would not be half as easy >Magic's twin was, as I've explained, simply how the pony's mind can comprehend the trillions of intricate machines that govern our world. That ARE us, and our world, and the cosmos. >Defeating her is impossible- her only goal is to observe what happens >You must take control of her grand design >You want to stop the pointless cycle of slaughter? Alright sweetie, and how are you gonna do that without just making it happen somewhere else? >Or taking the scorched earth route and killing everyone, everywhere so nobody can ever feel bad again >Fucking Sombra I SWEAR >Sigh >Right, right ----- >>40941116 >So. >Two-pronged attack >Show up the bloody-fisted whimsy of Magic, get him to play a calmer game >Easy... Relatively >Subtly influence nature, and keep it influenced, and blunt the claws of circumstance until at the very least, civilized creatures need not die young. Ideally, we take our pets and our livestock with us as well- our gift to them for standing by us when there were no rules. >Much less easy >And much slower >Luna, growing steadily familiar with the realm of magic, already had an idea for the effigy of magic >It could be thrown together in a day if we absolutely had to- >Magic might give us a bonus for improv comedy if we did >It would all be useless without the Protocol, however >A brief moment of control in the narrative would be nothing with no agent to slip inside >And our only plan would take another bloody, wailing century to enact properly >Starswirl knew of ancient Law, the kind found only where the roots are wild >At the core of the wildest forest in the land, where the wind is still everfree >Forbidden alchemies, blood magicks, words chanted to blazing nyx under a new moon >Every kind of spell, legal, illegal, and so horrible I won't even make them illegal because I don't want ponies to know they were ever possible >Mage and herbalist and bard tended to the grove >Until a silvery-pearly tree reached deep into the earth's core >How strangely fitting, that the one soul we could trust, bore a name which meant 'pearl.' >Megan, my friend, she volunteered to be the Heart of our machine >I- > >I watched as one third of the only reason our species was not a footnote in some other race's evolution >I- >I watched her impale the back of her head on that damned silver sapling >I fucking encouraged her >We all told ourselves, 'she's getting old,' 'at least it mattered,' 'she'll be remembered.' >Sure. >She's still dead, though. >Maybe not as dead as most dead ponies, but gone from this world in every way that matters all the same. >She suffered worse than I do- at least I get to play in the world we created. She's stuck doing maintenance duty. > >... >She died with a smile, Twilight >Not a kind smile >The raving smile of a madmare gone to fight Death itself >In that moment, I think I finally understood why they kept coming back for us >They wanted this fight as badly as I did >To prove to any Power that would bear witness: humankind is not powerless >... >Promise me, you'll make sure the Anons know they're loved, won't you? >Thank you ----- >Where was I? Right >Megan and the Tree were now one >I might have felt the faintest wind toustle my mane >Megan reassuring me, or Nature being a good sport? To this day, I know not. >Hm, did you know- the Tree of Harmony is actually more like a fungus? >A century to let this project percolate >So this immortal, fungal tree could spread itself >Suffused with an alien awareness, it could spread a fragment of Megan, or her last wishes, or- >I don't know everything, Twilight, but >It slipped a little bit of that motherly love, defiance and self control into everything, everywhere. >Just one more century, a million more pointless deaths, and you know what? A couple bad sugar harvests, just to rub it in! >All the remaining Circle felt it, when the time was nigh >The sudden certainty, that this broken world which contained maybe 2, maybe 1, or maybe no gods, now definitely contained at least one. >Left alone, I'm confident Harmony could have fixed the world slowly. But Nature demands Strength, we had a show to put on, and I was tired of burying ponies. >Danny had been playing with bad magic in the interim >Intentionally so, for he needed to appear monstrous >Just as we could trust Megan to never abuse her symbiotic influence over our hormones, we could trust that Danny wouldn't actually kill anyone no matter how insane he got >For one hundred years, he built his legend as the god-king of chaos and strife >Yes, I directly had a hoof in the creation of Discord >And he was and is brother to the being every pony invokes in some manner as a god >Why do you think I insisted he be reformed? >It wasn't just loyalty, no- everyone loves a redemption story. >Anyway >For the past one hundred winters, Discord had made sure every living soul knew his name >And associated him with despair, pain, war, all the bad things >So when we came out to play, every scrap of raw magic in the world knew we were fighting all those things too >So when we won? >You know how the story ends, from there >Obviously, Nature respected our victory >It's still in progress, of course, but she hasn't taken it back yet >Harmony does her very best to keep things balanced >She stumbles sometimes, but we're better off with her than without >Oh, Molly? >Her story ended much more simply: >She stayed with us until she passed >Acting as Seneschal to the royal court >I think, losing her was what drove Luna off the deep end >I should talk to her more often >Twilight? >Thank you for listening. >I know that was a scary story, but I need you to remember a few things: >One, Harmony chose you. No, she truly chose you- it's one of the few things she consciously thinks about. She trusted you to help her fix her broken friend, and you came through. >Two, I chose you. Because I believe in you. I believe you could have done the same things I've done, but better. Know that I would never speak lightly of those I have failed in the past. You could have saved more. >Three, I love you.