Note: Your Name is "Nobody"

Link to article: Note: Your Name is "Nobody".

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[[module css]]
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Gloria+Hallelujah&display=swap');

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    display: block;
    overflow: hidden;
    font-family: 'Gloria Hallelujah', cursive;
    font-style: cursive;
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    line-height: 30px;


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    box-shadow: 0px 1px 3px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2)
    }
.page p,
.page ul {
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.page ul {
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[[/module]]

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**Note: Your Name is Nobody** by [[*user Iapetus The Acausal]]. //Antimeme on Antimeme violence//

[[[Antimemetics Division Hub]]]
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[[div class="page"]]
__**Your name is "Nobody."**__
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If you had another name, it's lost to history now. __Speed read these notes every time you forget having read them__. The hand prints on the walls aren't supposed to be there. 

* Eating pieces of your mind -> __write down everything__
* Hands on the walls are powerful antimemes. If a meme is any information that spreads itself, an antimeme is information that prevents itself from being spread. You can only see or remember the hands because you are their target.
* You are also an antimeme, but not as powerful. Normally, You can only be perceived retroactively or indirectly. Your inherent antimemetic properties provide you with a resistance to antimemes.
* You are on a massive cocktail of mnestics, which is shit that makes you remember. You have more of them in your left pocket. You've taken far more than normal and are just short of an overdose. Do not take more.
* You have a bag of white powder in your right pocket. It is cocaine, crushed up adderall, or some combination of the two. The name on the bag is not yours. Snort more if you feel yourself getting tired or unfocused. You cannot afford to let your mind wander or get distracted by withdrawal, and you need all the help you can get. (Also don't worry about the mnestics and uppers interacting)
* Your multi-fold resistance has bought you time. Most importantly: you can remember what you don't know. If a memory is ripped from your head, you can feel the absence.
* Cannot be unseen while present. Takes on the form of a collection of hand prints that appear on the surfaces of objects, and can speak in a loose collection of repeated phrases.
* --Seems to be sentient--
* You have a colt walker in the holster on your hip. Its been modified with thaumaturgy. Doesn't have unlimited bullets, has more than you --hopefully-- need. It doesn't jam and shots home in on vital organs, so lack of experience won't impede. See attached written directions on how to use it. You do not usually carry firearms, and it does not belong to us. 
* Its enveloped you in an antimemetic field that prevent anyone from perceiving you. This is not that different from how you usually live, but now you cannot be perceived indirectly, and more importantly, now no one remembers you exist at all. Your usual method of leaving notes and voice mails for people to find will not work. 
@@ @@
__Need to run the Foundation's antimemetic database__ via MTF-Pi-10 "Thought Patrol" password I stole for any similar anomalies, maybe get some leads. Antimemetics Division and Counterconcept divisions are the only 2 other organizations of their kind, if there is anyone who has found something like this, it will be them.
[[/div]]


[[div class="page"]]
Found a database entry about an entity known as "[[[introductory-antimemetics |Alastair Grey]]]", an antimemetic kill agent that seeks out and eats large collections of 'juicy' information. Whatever info I had on other SCPs was eaten after I found the document. Assuming these entities are similar brands of predatory Idea, I can conclude:
* I have roughly 2 hours until it eats my whole mind, as that is about the max a trained antimemeticist can last, although they presumably lack inherent mutual resistance like myself. I've used at least 15 minutes so far.
* __I can move freely__, as to it, I am already caught. 
* Its not sentient.
* It is an information construct, a concept.
* It has eaten many field experts, most more skilled than me. 
* It can target specific collections of memories to inhibit its prey. 
* It can turn me into a vegetable by eating all the info from my mind, but until that point, it cannot destroy my intelligence. 
@@ @@
There is apparently further info at site-41, but the Hands ate all my site numbers, so if I knew where to look, I don't anymore. 
@@ @@
**Need to find a way to kill an idea, and I have 1 hr 44 min to do it.** Glorious.
[[/div]]


[[div class="page"]]
Searched my notes and contact list, most of the leads I have are high class conceptual engineers, but since I can't talk to them, its a dead end. Only viable lead I have is one "Protocol Damnatio ad Bestias," that I've apparently been monitoring for some time. Foundation has built an incredibly powerful conceptual weapon, meant to kill something much "[[[scp-3004 |bigger,]]]" but hopefully it will fit my needs. No alternative anyway. 
@@ @@
I'll need to reach the head location for the Department of Tactical Theology. It ate my memories of where it is, but I managed to remember how I've reached there before at least. I'll write down the directions on another page in case it tries to eat that too. Its ~30 minute drive north from a Way (A 'path' or portal from otherwise disconnected locations) I know how to operate. I'll use the Way here in Hong Kong to reach the Wanderer's Library as a middle point.
[[/div]]



[[div class="page"]]
//This is really fucking bad.// Expected it to follow me, but didn't expect the hands to immediately eat all my Knocks (the special 'pass code' to operate a Way). Hand prints have also started puppeting bystanders, ideologically possessing them, something that Mr Grey isn't known to do. Fortunately, these hosts for the idea don't seem to have the ability to bypass my own lack of presence the same way the idea itself can. I assume this natural defense mechanism wasn't meant for targets that are themselves antimemetic.
[[/div]]


[[div class="page"]]
Gonna have to resort to something I wouldn't even consider if not for the immense antimemetic field. Years back I learned how to perform an occult ritual for information brokerage, one that can forcefully open any Way, completely bypassing any rules or restrictions against the Casters. But the price is steep: the Fallout from ripping open a Way causes severe spacial damage, and leaves everything for the range of several city-blocks around the Way after entry a smoldering crater, on both sides of the 'portal.' Under normal conditions, I'd be chained to a desk for all eternity the moment Librarians noticed the preceding spacial quakes, assuming the [[[wanderers-library-hub |Neverwere]]] didn't get me first. I'll need to have faith in the strength of my enemy here, to keep their heads turned away. Never seen a Neverwere in person before, and god help me, let today not be a first. Fortunately, my capturer shouldn't be smart enough to eat such a complex ritual from my memory until after he understands what it does. 
[[/div]]


[[div class="page"]]
It worked. Wonder if anyone will ever see these smoldering craters in either space. Hands ate all my spells and rituals from my head after I finished, along with the 9 languages I chanted the verses in. I've learned something important: for whatever reason, __the hands don't properly understand or interact with the idea of 'language.'__ Unlike when its eaten other pieces of my mind, it couldn't take a clean bite. Its taken large chunks, but I still know basic phrases. I can't spell properly or grasp the nuances, but I can still remember previous conversations and quotes. I'm glad I wrote down directions before, because I can't remember what site the # I'm heading to is either. Luckily, I still remember how to hot wire a car.
[[/div]]


[[div class="page"]]
I'm here, but it took longer than I expected, per the hands eating all info on driving a fucking car halfway through. Luckily, I guess I'm a fast learner. I'm going to break into the site now, but I don't have any of my knowledge on hacking bio scanners, so instead I'm going to have to "borrow" the eye of their head Tactical Theologian (hands stole what I knew about this field too. I hope its fucking relevant), and use whatever codes I still have in my head to reach the high clearance labs where the weapon they built should be. Wonder if the director will even notice he can't see out of an eye anymore.
[[/div]]


[[div class="page"]]
Found the wepon(s) & the notes on it at the bottom of the fasillity. Appairently these are --cold-- --cald-- known as //"The Lions,"// and they are a beauty indeed. Don't know how much time I have left, but I can't even remember what I was doing this morning or what year it is. more impoortintly, its started to eat my english. most of the werds are still here, but the spelling/grammar/vocabulary is slippin. Some words its eaten just the meaning of. I know "calculus" is a thing, but I no longer kno what it means. It can take spelling and it can taek meening, but it has a hard time taking both. It --wood-- is a waste of time to force miself to relern all the spellings of the words I've written in these pages, but it is worth figuring out what the words mean from contekts. All I --now about myself-- am is whats on these notes and docs I got with me here, speed reading just to keep enough info in my leaking hed to stay active. I hav to finish this --bat-- --fig-- war before I cant reed these pages.
@@ @@
According to preliminary test docs, the fuckers are powerful enough to wipe out severel ful blown 'Jungian Archetypes' if thay could only get targeted right, but that's a big if. Issue is compatibility. The Lions are supposed to cast a 'host' for the consept in question into oblivion along with the target, but the Hands on the wolls aren't korporeal enough. My lack of presense means I can't drag one of shambling puppets into the center, which is a shaim, because thay seem to be the only valid hoast in the area. I only have 1 option then: If thair jaws won't take the basterd, then I'll cast myself into the Lion's --teet-- maw, to drag em in, so no one else gets consumed. All that's left to do is to --bil-- --from-- craft the gallows that I am to hang from for the rest of --eternt-- time. 
[[/div]]


[[div class="page"]]
I've set up The Lions now, & thankfully I had a last stroak of genius as I finished whatever that pouder was. I still have the cocktail of unused mnestics in my pockets. If I fead 1 of the hosts, thay should be abel to bypas my inherent antimemetic --propert-- --aro-- effects. I'll have to lead watever poor bastard of a hoast I find 1st into the senter of these chrome devils, turn em on, and nuke this memory glutton from existence.
[[/div]]


[[div class="page"]]
I hav given 1 of the hoasts wandering the upper floors a nestic dose --masve-- strong enough to rip open evry repress'd memory in a basket case war veteren's psyche. Seems all the puppets shair persepsion, cuz thay all started dashing 4 me at once. Thinned out the hurd, give or take 30 bodys just in the front --hol-- room. Went for the armed guards(?) 1st, but thay still got my shoulder. Shouldn't be surprized how much dat hurts. Thees things do seem 2 be fast 4 a normal persun, but so am I, appairintly. guess I enhanced miself fisically at sum point; Must hav bean a while ago if i didnt think to rite it down. Dum ass moove IMO. Beet them downstairs eesily & I rite this last passage as I wate 4 1 of the hoasts to reech the bottum flor.
@@ @@
Is time: I heer their steps --aproc-- coming from round the corner. Regaurdles if this werks or not, I won't remembr aftr its oll over, nor will anyone else. __I just hoap I remembr miself 'nuf to piece it oll back tagether.__
[[/div]]
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Note: Your Name is "Nobody"

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