Link to article: Researcher "Bryx" Ryan's Personnel File.
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**Name:** Mitchell "Bryx" Ryan **Age:** 26 **Site Assigned:** 19 **Clearance Level:** 2 **Letter Class:** Pending [[size 0%]] As soon as someone figures this system out, they can tell me. I’m not a D. After that, who the hell knows? [[/size]] ---- Researcher Ryan joined the Foundation as a Junior Researcher in the last year of college. Since then, he has not participated in a single specific research project for more than three weeks, preferring instead to take a small part in the containment and testing of various Safe and Euclid class SCP’s as needed. So far, he has shown a basic proficiency in the majority of tasks that he has been assigned to, without any specific specialties. Attempts to discern what degree he actually earned in college have been temporarily halted until all SCP-447-2 has been cleared from the employee records’ hard drive. [[size 0%]] Turns out that green goo really can do anything.[[/size]] Researcher Ryan has shown a strong interest in testing with [[[SCP-261]]], having returned to the project several times. As he has followed all testing protocols to the letter, Site Staff see no reason to bar him from the SCP, so long as he joins a gym. [[size 0%]] Exercise is NOT good for you. It makes you live LONGER, for gods’ sakes! [[/size]] [[size 0%]] Note: Researcher Ryan (That is myself) possesses a strong dislike for phrases used in popular culture, specifically "swag", but //apparently// this isn’t important enough to be noted in my official documentation. Seriously though, don’t say those words.[[/size]] ---- **__SCP’s catalogued by Researcher Ryan__** [[[SCP-1622]]] [[[SCP-2870]]] [[[SCP-2390]]] [[[SCP-2920]]] **__Reports authored by Researcher Ryan__** [[[On the Other Side of the Coin]]] **__SCP-related Fiction authored by Researcher Ryan__** (Available for access by personnel with appropriate clearance) [[[Madame Lucia]]] [[[Where The Garden Began]]] [[[Skip Jam Part One]]] [[[The Lady in the Tower]]] [[[CAV-007| A Crossing]]] [[[Let the Games Begin]]] [[[Everyone Knows]]] [[[Descent]]] Researcher Ryan is adept at improving group morale in any project that he is included in. Seen below is a list of false SCP Documents filed by Researcher Ryan noted to amuse coworkers. [[[SCP-1212-J]]] //Does anyone actually get this joke? It’s a serious item with horrible deadly properties. I’d be just as frustrated as the Researcher in the interview log. What// is //a downvote?// -Dr. ████ [[size 0%]] The reason you don’t get the joke is the same reason that you can’t see these words. YOU aren’t meta. [[/size]] [[[SCP-4263-J]]] [[size 0%]] Fred grabbed the first line he could see and popped on to the wiki, immediately jumping up and dashing into the article at the top of the list. [[/size]] [[collapsible show=" " hide="You found the Fred Story Hub!"]] NOTICE TO ALL PERSONNEL: [[[SCP-423]]] has breached containment and is currently making its way through Foundation records. The contamination appears to have begun in this personnel file. As such, a record of contaminated documents will be retained here, rather than creating a new page through which the object may learn that we have discovered it. As far as can be ascertained at this time, SCP-423 is searching for something within Foundation records. It can only be detected by looking at the page source, as it uses zero-point font. From the files already breached, we have determined how SCP-423 behaves upon contaminating a new page. * SCP-423 always begins with a personnel file. Personnel without a file are not at risk (If you don't have an author page, you can't add to the story). * SCP-423 is incapable of interacting with ordinary SCP-Object files, using them solely as a means to further its story. * The narrative universe inside of "Tales" and other nonstandard pages __may__ physically interact with SCP-423, and vice-versa. * SCP-423 may only remain on each page for one sentence unless detained by a dialogue with another character(characters show no awareness outside of their Tales) or some other narrative obstacle (example: a powerful character that //is// aware of the greater SCPverse) * SCP-423 always moves down the works listed in the personnel file. If more works are added at a later date, SCP-423 may or may not immediately contaminate that document. However, it still follows narrative order.(If you make a new page, you still need to pick up where the last person left off) All Foundation personnel are required to list documents under their jurisdiction that have been contaminated by SCP-423 in narrative order: # [[[http://www.scp-wiki.net/bow-before-my-url-powers |Researcher Ryan's Personnel File]]] # [[[SCP-1622]]] # [[[SCP-2870]]] # [[[On the Other Side of the Coin]]] # [[[Madame Lucia]]] # [[[Skip Jam Part One]]] # [[[The Lady in the Tower]]] # [[[CAV-007| A Crossing]]] # [[[SCP-1212-J]]] # [[[SCP-4263-J]]] # [http://www.scp-wiki.net/let-s-go-again-shall-we Agent Macleod's Personnel File] # [[[SCP-2173]]] # [[[SCP-2237]]] # [[[SCP-2273]]] # [[[Aftermath]]] [[/collapsible]] >__A Dream__ >Let me tell you a story of one of my favorite dreams. I'm actually writing an SCP about it. > >As far as I can remember, it started in the area behind the auditorium, where the props were kept(my high school had no such things, but such is the way of dreams). I heard some banging and went to investigate. There was a person leaving by the back doors. I only caught a glimpse of their silhouette in the sunlight(Also why did my dream have me at school during summer? Am I that much of a wet blanket to myself?), but the certainty was seared into my mind that I had viewed a doppelganger. The only thing I remember doing next was thinking about Invasion of the Body Snatchers. The dream didn't really clear again until nighttime. We had reached the tower that stood in the middle of the grassy field. > >I was with some girl from my school. We were using walkie-talkies, but as things progressed, she just sort of dropped out of the narrative.(Well? It was a dream. I have enough trouble forcing myself to interact with real people.) Anyway, there was an elevator, but I climbed up the outside of the building. I'm sure that I told myself that it was only so I wouldn't be spotted snooping around the hallways, but I honestly just thought it looked cooler. > >I shouldn't have bothered. There was a ring of glass windows around each floor, so I could peep in, but there weren't any people //or// aliens. Just bank after bank of glowing, buzzing machinery that I'd never understand even if I wasn't currently running on the fuzzy logic of a sleeping mind. So, I finally reach the last floor before the roof, and there was finally movement. I looked through the windows, and I saw people. Sort of. > >They were sitting in... oh, man. It's hard to describe. It was a dimly lit place with polished wooden floors and upscale leather booths. The people were all wearing jackets and traveling clothes. There was something not quite right about them. Their facial features were indistinct, but they were just sitting and talking, although I couldn't make out any actual words. Here a woman with frizzy black hair let out a shriek of laughter and disbelief at something her male companion in the black leather jacket said. Here a family leaned in close as they discussed some important matter. You know how when you look at art or read a particular writer and you get this feeling that can only be described as the thing that's making you feel it? This place didn't look anything like Nighthawks, but it was the same feeling. This restful, indescribably //human// feeling that you get just washed over me and put any thoughts of the weird faces right out of my head. I watched for a while, then I noticed the elevator platform to my right. I sidled over the ledge I was standing on and got off right near the roof. > >There were stairs up to the roof, but the actual space beyond it was walled off. It's not like I couldn't go in, as there was a door, but I didn't want anyone seeing me. So I went halfway up the stairs until I could peep through the cast iron banner surrounding the place. It was an open-air restaurant. There were people, fewer than below, but far more well defined, sitting at elegant, clothed tables and wearing fancy dress. Their plates were empty, although they didn't seem to notice, and the clinking of silverware against their muted conversation was like a massage to my soul. They weren't stealing bodies. They were copying them, and learning how to be human through one of the simplest but, in my opinion, at least, most satisfying of pleasures that one can treat themselves to. I saw a waiter going from table to table, then, and I got on the elevator and made it back down before he saw me. > >I don't remember what happened next in the dream. It didn't clear again until I was running back up to the tower. They were going to drop bombs on them. I had to warn them. I made it back and went straight up to the top. When I made it, I glanced down through the windows at the bar-type place. It was cleared out already. Confused, I walked halfway up the stairs to the rooftop restaurant, and looked through the bars. > >There were barely any people there. I realize now that they had gotten out, but I wasn't really thinking about that anymore. The door at the top of the steps opened, and the waiter I'd seen earlier was standing there. > >"Hey, kid, we're about to close up, you know." > >"Oh, uh, sorry. I was just... looking for someone, but they've already left." > >"Okay. Hey, the kitchen hasn't closed yet. Can I get you something for the road?" > >"Ummmm... chocolate cake?" > >"You got it." He retreated to a small covered shed on the other side of the roof and returned with an empty plate. "Hey, sorry, but we're out of chocolate. Is vanilla okay?" > >"Sure." He gave me the plate and walked away. I just turned, still holding the plate, and went back into the elevator. I just felt this incredible, blissful sensation of //peace//, the whole ride down. There were no worries, my mind was as empty as a cloudless sky. It wasn't happy or sad, it was just complete relaxation that went all the way down to my bones. > >I still don't think I've quite managed to convey just what that feeling was to me. I don't think I ever will. It was too beautiful for words, shaped like itself and nothing else. > >The next thing remember was touching someone on a shoulder in some red and orange tent on the grass. No idea how I got there, but hey, dreams, right? [[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box]] [[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]