SCP-9355

Link to article: SCP-9355.

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= **SCP-9355 - //Asterisk Cookies and Other Ways to Unwind//**
= **Author:** [[[winterheart-page | GwenWinterheart]]]

=====
[[include component:preview
text= Children's nonsense rhymes.  Alternative education. Small town Fifthism.  Heresy.
]]
=====

[[image asterisk cookiesthumb.png class="crom-thumbnail" style="display: none"]]
[[include :scp-wiki:info:end]]

[[div class="raisa_memo"]]
Some data in the following document has been irretrievably lost.  

For readability, [UNKNOWN] will be used to replace missing proper nouns. [DATA LOST] will be used otherwise.

These tags represent the reasonable assumptions of RAISA staff and may be incorrect or incomplete.

-- Maria Jones, Director, RAISA
[[/div]]

[[include :scp-wiki:component:anomaly-class-bar-source

|item-number= SCP-9355

|clearance= 3

|container-class= keter

|secondary-class= 

|secondary-icon= 

|disruption-class= keneq

|risk-class= critical

]]

[[include component:image-block
    name=https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/scp-9355/asterisk%20cookies.png |
    caption= [DATA LOST]|
    align=right |
    width=20em
]]

**Special Containment Procedures:**   The full known text of SCP-9355 is classified level 4. Verbal recitation experiments require written approval from the HMCL supervisor.

A class-2 Ontostatic Fence[[footnote]]A network of linked Scranton Reality Anchors, used to isolate regions of anomalous ontology from the surrounding space.[[/footnote]] is to be maintained around both Area 9355-2 and 9355-3 until the anomalous spaces have fully disconnected from baseline reality.  Anchors in these fences are to be rotated regularly and closely monitored for symptoms of fivefold dissonance.  Mobile Task Force Mu-17 ("Iron Horses") is assigned to monitor the area and prevent civilian incursions into Area 9355-2 using cover story Epsilon 6 ("Gas Explosion").

Survivors of Incident 9355-3 are to be housed in the anomalies wing of Site-17's on-site orphanage pending further evaluation.

**Description:** SCP-9355 is an illustrated book of children's poetry titled //Asterisk Cookies and Other Ways to Unwind,// attributed to [[[https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dennis_Lee_(author)|Dennis Lee]]] in 1976.  When recited aloud, poems from SCP-9355 cause various anomalous phenomena.  The nature and intensity of such vary based on a poorly understood interaction of the following factors:

* The specific poem being recited.
* Whether the speaker has the poem they are reciting, and to a lesser extent other portions of SCP-9355, fully memorized.
* The age of the speaker and of any affected individuals.
* The context of the recitation.
* The speaker's degree of affiliation with GoI 05-30 (The Unwinding Circle) or related Fifthist heresies.

While the full text of SCP-9355 contains 25 poems, several remain completely unknown and the full text of most poems is not confirmed. Some poems contain content which can be interpreted as referring to classified information. 

[[div class="blockquote"]]
= **Reconstructed Partial Table of Contents**
-----
1. Asterisk cookies
3. More or less seaworthy
4. I don't want to play inside!
5. Mister Star and the big big wave
6. Organs for apples
7. Inside down and upside out
8. Widdershins
10. Mirrors are for other people
11. Missus Mider's spider cider
12. Five years lost at sea with me
13. Hokey Smokes
15. Nowhere man goes to nothing place
16. Two and a half pairs of socks
18. Everything I've ever forgotten
19. Ringinginginging
20. The girl who was very very long
23. Mary on wheels
24. Lights out, eyes open
25. Untied times five
[[/div]]

SCP-9355 does not exist; it was never written nor published.  No physical copies exist, and no references to SCP-9355 have been documented prior to April of 2020.

All information related to SCP-9355 comes from recordings, documents and testimony related to the Stellar Ecdysis Educational Collective (SEEC, pronounced 'seek'), a branch of GoI-05 (the Fifth Church) formerly based out of Anklebone, Saskatchewan.  It operated out of two facilities, the Fifth Chapel of the Stellar Carapace  (now designated Area 9355-1) and the Simon Grazeloae Memorial Academy (now designated Area 9355-2).

@@ @@

[[=]]
-----
++ {{Incident 9355-1}}
{{Incident 9355-1 refers to a series of anomalous events relating to SCP-9355 recitations which occurred in Anklebone, Saskatchewan, in early April of 2020. Relevant documentation follows.}}
-----
++++ {{Archived Social Media Content: April 4th, 2020}}
-----
[[/=]]
[[div class="blockquote"]]
**Warning:**  The following does not appear to apply anomalous effects to the listener, though it may cause mental or emotional distress.  **Do not repeat anything you hear.  Do not read any part of the transcript out loud.**
-----
<TRANSCRIPT BEGINS>

//<A man in a white collared shirt wearing a black tie sits in front of a low quality camera feed, likely a laptop webcam.  A mechanic droning is audible in the background.  He picks up a copy of// Garbage Delight //by Dennis Lee and flips through it.  After about ten seconds, he shakes his head and puts the book down.>//

**Man:**  I guess it was from a different book ... well, I think I mostly remember it.  Hi kids!  Today's poem is "Inside down and upside out!"  Say it with me if you know how it goes!

//<The man's eyes unfocus and he begins to recite a poem in a sing-song voice.>//

**Man:** //Outside in and downside up?
That's not it, my little pup.//

//<The man's face becomes indistinct.  Individual features such as eyes and nose can be identified, but specific traits of those features such as shape or colour can no longer be determined.>//

**Man:** //Inside up and outside down
Is no shape to be out in town.//

//<It is no longer possible to determine which parts of the pinkish mass in the camera feed correspond to which facial features.  The background hum becomes sharp.>//

**Man?:** //Downside up and outside in
Won't cut it if you want to win.//

//<The camera feed shows an unidentifiable mass of skin, hair and cloth.  A loud ringing sound can be heard in the background.>//

**Shape:** //Indown up and sideout side
Will take you on a bumpy ride.//

//<Undifferentiated meat is visible.  The ringing is deafening but the words of the poem can be heard clearly.  A girl's voice is heard whispering in the background, although no words can be distinguished.>//

**Meat:** //But I know what it's all about.
It's inside down and upside out!//

//<The final line is accompanied by the sounds of many wet, heavy objects impacting hard surfaces.  The camera feed is obscured by an unidentifiable red substance.  Monotonous ringing and indecipherable whispering continue with no variation for an additional minute.>//

<TRANSCRIPT ENDS>
[[/div]]

[[=]]
-----
++++ {{Gary Summers Witness Statement: April 7th, 2020}}
-----
[[/=]]
[[div class="blockquote"]]
Okay, so first, the verschooling program, right?   Short for "Reverse Schooling."  It's this wild new education system where instead of //learning// things, you'd //remember// the truths that were already inside you.  Drawing on past lives, parallel worlds, quantum entanglement.  Completely the opposite of locking kids in a classroom and drumming facts into their heads, you know?  Very forward-thinking.  Really disrupting traditional education.

And they'd actually learn stuff!  They had this ten year old boy they showed around who could read, write, and talk in like twenty different languages including the Divine Tongue, and he knew all this weird math, it was really impressive.

So that's where SEEC came from.  The Church was already running a private elementary school in Anklebone so it was pretty easy to organize, and most of the local Fifthist community came around to the new sect.  Obviously everyone wanted their kid in the new thing, but it was pretty exclusive at first.  First year, just a couple of kids.  Next couple years, four or five get in.  This year is the first time they really expanded it out, pushed to get some of the newer converts involved?  So this year there's at least 30 new kids in the program.  And the Lowells, Jack and Michelle, just down the block from me, they get in too.

Anyway uh, the incident.  I was over at their place one afternoon, helping Jack and his oldest boy do some work on their car, right? So we were in the garage, and Michelle was in the living room doing the program with the younger one.  Three or four times a day, they read the kids these nonsense poems, right?  So she started on one of those and for some reason I could hear it so clearly, through a closed door from two rooms away.  It went like --

Ah, that's right.  Okay, I'll write it down.
[[=]]
[[div class="document"]]
**Warning: Do not read any part of the following aloud.**
-----
//One year lost at sea with me.
I told you I must surely die
Without a bite to eat!
So I ate your legs with shells of eggs
and now your legs are plastic pegs!
And don't you think that's neat?//

//Two years lost at sea with me.
You told me you'd not make it through
without a little snack!
So you ate my hands with rubber bands
And on we sailed to unknown lands!
I'm never going back.//

//Three years lost at sea with me.
We told us we'd no more to see
on ocean or on shore!
So we ate our eyes with butterflies
And as for lies or hows or whys
We'd say that there's no more!//

//Four years lost at sea with me.
He said from sound to be unbound
before it's time to go.
So he ate our ears with pruning shears
And told us dears to face our fears
And know what we should know.//
[[/div]]
[[/=]]

After the first verse, I couldn't move my legs.  Jack got it worse, he was standing up and just toppled over.  Didn't make a sound, though.  Must have hurt, surely.  The older kid just wobbled a little.

Second verse, I dropped the wrench I was holding.  Arms went completely limp.  Couldn't move em, couldn't feel em, it was like they weren't even there.  Sounds scary, right?  But it wasn't, it felt natural.  Nobody said anything, we just listened.

After the third verse I went blind.  Total darkness, not the least impression of light, I'd never experienced that before.  It felt safe.

Then after the fourth verse, I couldn't hear anymore, and that was a problem because I couldn't hear the poem. I couldn't hear it!  There's another verse to the poem, I know there is.  It was maddening, knowing the fifth verse was happening and I was missing it.

Anyway, after a few hours my senses gradually started to come back and I could move around again.  Jack took half a day to recover, Michelle's still unconscious.  I'll have to ask her how the poem ends, if she ever wakes up.

Oh, the kids?  The older kid said he doesn't remember any of it.  Younger kid, the one in the program, he doesn't talk anymore.  I bet //he// knows the last verse.  I wish he'd tell me.
[[/div]]

@@ @@

[[=]]
-----
++ {{Incident 9355-2}}
{{Incident 9355-2 refers to an unknown ontokinetic phenomenon which led to the destruction of the Fifth Chapel of the Stellar Carapace on April 25th.  Relevant documentation follows.}}
-----
++++ {{[UNKNOWN] Interview Transcript}}
-----
[[/=]]
[[div class ="blockquote"]]

**Interviewed:** [UNKNOWN]

**Interviewer:** Dr. Jeanine Hollander

**Foreword:** Interview held at Provisional Site-9355, a small facility constructed under an abandoned farmhouse near Anklebone for research into SCP-9355 and containment of related anomalies.  Original footage has been expunged.  **Do not read any part of the transcript out loud.**
-----
<TRANSCRIPT BEGINS>

//<[UNKNOWN] and Dr. Hollander enter the chamber and sit down at the table.>//

**Dr. Hollander:**  Hello, Mr. [UNKNOWN].  I'm Jeanine Hollander, I've been trying to put together the pieces on this incident for our records and I'd like to ask you some questions.

//<[UNKNOWN] fidgets with the knot of his bowtie. It looks to be uncomfortably tight.>//

**[UNKNOWN]:** Hello, Mrs. Hollander.  Dr. Hollander?  Nice to meet you.

//<[UNKNOWN] extends his hand for a handshake.  Dr. Hollander ignores it and continues.>//

**Dr. Hollander:** Dr. Hollander, although you can call me Jeanine if you prefer.  I'd like to start with a personal question, if you don't mind.  Do you consider yourself a Fifthist?

//<[UNKNOWN] pauses for several seconds.>//

**[UNKNOWN]:** I hadn't really thought about that.  I guess I do.  I thought I was before, but I wasn't really.  I was just caught up in the flow.  But now I'm part of the Circle, which is the real deal, you know?  It's like jazz.  Dissonance.  The ringing in your ears that keeps the liars out.  Ah, was that the wrong answer?

//<Dr. Hollander has been writing something in her notes and making inputs on a keypad on the table as he speaks.>//

**Dr. Hollander:**  No, but please be aware that this space is being monitored for anomalous effects, and you //will// be tranquilized at the first sign of trouble.

**[UNKNOWN]:** Fair enough.  I'll be on my best behavior.

**Dr. Hollander:** Our records show that your wife was a founding member of SEEC.  She must have been quite devout.  Can you tell me about that?

**[UNKNOWN]:** She was always big on that kind of stuff.  Crystals, spirits, auras?  Her eyes would sparkle.  It was a spiritual thing to her, connecting to a higher plane, or something.  I never got it like she did, but I liked that about her. 

**[UNKNOWN]:**  So when they were getting the new thing together she had to be in on it, obviously.  I don't think they really wanted women in the main group, but they needed her to get the rest of the church ladies in line.  So she was in on it but she wasn't really //in// on it, if you catch my drift?

**Dr. Hollander:** I see.  How much did you know about the verschooling program at that time?  How much did she know?

**[UNKNOWN]:** At first I knew nothing about it, she knew a little more, I think.  But obviously over the first few years we picked up bits and pieces from Moon. He'd complain sometimes about school being hard and how he felt like he was falling behind the other kids, and the molting?  But we didn't know the scale of it.  School's hard for everyone, you know?

**Dr. Hollander:** Was the ... molting, not a red flag?

**[UNKNOWN]:** Have you never molted before?  There's different ways of it, it's not always a bad thing.  Why, I once--

**Dr. Hollander:** Right, never mind.  So then the pandemic started, and the school closed down?

**[UNKNOWN]:** Yeah.  And obviously you can't do all that stuff over remote learning, so they needed us to do the program at home.
[[/div]]

[[=]]
----
++++ {{Supplemental Material: Home Verschooling Orientation Pamphlet}}
[[/=]]
-----
[[div class="blockquote" ]]
= **PLAYTIME**
-----
After a healthy breakfast, it's essential that your instar starts their day on the right foot.  Begin the first period with a nonsense rhyme from one of our approved authors, then guide your instar through one hour of unstructured Playtime.  Signal the end of Playtime with a second rhyme.

Remember that human speech is strictly forbidden during Playtime!  If your instar engages in human speech during Playtime, you are to chide them in the Divine Tongue and use one of the approved disciplinary rituals to punish them before resuming unstructured play.  This is mandatory and essential to the verschooling process.

= **MOLTING**
----
After playtime, it's time to begin the daily molting ritual.  Have your instar sit crosslegged in the focus circle and activate it.  Don't worry if they struggle at first; they'll settle in soon enough.

Consult the attached calendar to determine which markings to apply, and where.  Upon completion of the markings, your instar will begin to molt.  This may appear uncomfortable, but it is essential to the verschooling process: do not interfere, and do not release your instar from the focus circle. The molting will usually take about half an hour; this will leave your instar with some amount of free-time before lunch.

= **REMEMBERING**
----
After lunch period and a second Playtime period, the Fifth period of your instar's day will be the Remembering period!  By this time, they should be pretty-well recovered from their previous molting and be once again covered by a coat of soft, healthy pink skin.  In the event that they haven't, it's okay to extend the second Playtime period, or even grant a few hours of free-time for rest before the Remembering period.

Pick out today's Sermon from the calendar and read it to your instar in the Divine Tongue.  If they can't sit still you may use the focus circle, but it's better not to.  Don't worry if they don't seem to understand.  You are speaking to the imago.

After the sermon, inscribe the mark of remembering on your instar's forehead and supervise their Remembering.  The Remembering will go on for ten to twenty minutes -- you'll know they're nearly done when the smoke starts to dissipate.  Do not allow them to leave the home during this time, but otherwise do not interfere with the imago's activities.

After that, schooltime  is done for the day! Your instar can take the rest of the day to play and relax.
[[/div]]

[[=]]
-----
++++ {{[UNKNOWN] Interview Log (CONT)}}
-----
[[/=]]
[[div class ="blockquote"]]
**Interviewed:** [UNKNOWN]

**Interviewer:** Dr. Jeanine Hollander
-----
**Dr. Hollander:** Tell me about the poems.  How did that start?

**[UNKNOWN]:** So we were supposed to read these nonsense poems to the kids at the start and end of the "Playtime" period, right?  And the church ladies all //hated// them.  Like, they were good fifthist stuff about the smoke and whatnot but the rhythm was all off, apparently. So whichever of them was helping put together the homeschooling material snuck Dennis Lee onto the approved authors list, and none of the higher ups noticed.  

**[UNKNOWN]:**  So obviously everyone starts using //Alligator Pie// and the like, instead of the slop poems we were supposed to be reading.  And I guess that was all it took.  It was a chink in the system, it let //her// get to us, and she slipped us some of the good stuff.

**Dr. Hollander:** Could you elaborate on "her?"

**[UNKNOWN]:** [DATA LOST]

**Dr. Hollander:** And this led to Stuart Rutherford exploding on Tik-Tok?

//<[UNKNOWN] shrugs, and fidgets uncomfortably with the knot of his tie.>//

**[UNKNOWN]:**  I suppose it did.  Oh, he got better, incidentally.  Met him at work the next day.  Was much more agreeable, afterward, although he couldn't quite carry on a conversation.  It was the second time that really did him in.

//<Dr. Hollander shudders.>//
[[/div]]

[[=]]
-----
++++ {{Victoria McCathy Witness Statement, April 15, 2020}}
-----
[[/=]]

[[div class="blockquote"]]
Yes, of course our little Justine is in the program.  And I'll have you know her she hasn't missed a single teneral milestone in two years!  And during Remembering, my word, she's making such strides.  The Divine Tongue comes so smoothly to her!  I knew it would, you know, she learned mortal speech just as quickly.  Why, just the other day she was saying [COGNITOHAZARD EXPUNGED]

//<Interviewer regains consciousness.  About thirty seconds have elapsed.>//

Ah, sorry!  I thought you people with the coats were made of sterner stuff than that.  Where was I?

Yes, yes, I //have// heard many of the //other// instars are falling behind, of course.  Especially the newer ones.  Well, it's to be expected, you know?  There's only so many little ones of the proper age in the old Church families, so we've had to let the newlings in, and supervising a molting is a little much for most of them.  No sense of discipline, you know? No respect for the gravity of the thing.

Ah, the poems?  I mean, heresy, plain and simple, thats what that is!  None of that nasty stuff going on in //our// household.

//<Witness lowers her voice and leans foward.>//

There really are devils out there, you know.  The Archons look out for us, make sure our will reaches the //right// sort of stars.  Cast yourself out there willy-nilly and you'll end up like those southern wackos, or worse.  They say this time it's the Unwinding Devil.  Nasty, nasty business, anything she touches comes apart at the seams and never comes back together. //That's// where those poems come from, and nothing good will come of them.

//<Witness leans back and resumes talking normally.>//

Anyway none of that has anything to do with //us.//  Justine will be through with the program within another year or two at rate she's going, and then -- Honey?  Excuse me?  I was just talking about our -- Oh alright then.

//<Witness's husband intervenes, displays hostility toward interviewer.  Unable to continue with statement.>//
[[/div]]

[[=]]
-----
++++ {{Report on SEEC from Embedded Asset: April 17th, 2020}}
-----
[[/=]]

Got into the network briefly this week and pulled a bunch of stuff.  It was all encrypted, so I didn't know what I was grabbing until I got a chance to crack it later.  Most of it turned out to be mundane but I did pick this one up.  

[[div class="document"]]
= **Request for Additional Materials for Verschooling Program**
**Date:** April 14, 2022
**High-Priority**
------
* 200 Kg Sorcery-grade wax
* 20 Kg Reprocessed keratin
* 30 Kg Human skeletal material, grade-C
* 150 Assorted vertebra, mammalian
* 50 M Fine copper wire
* 10 L Human blood

**Signed:** Headmaster Theodore Gadstom
[[/div]]

Seems ominous to me.  Thaumaturgy supplies?

[[=]]
-----
++++ {{Surveillance Footage: Memorial Academy, April 22, 2020}}
-----
[[/=]]

[[div class="blockquote"]]
**Foreword:** Footage shows a circle of twenty-five chairs arranged in a circle in the center of a school gymnasium.  A five pointed star is drawn in chalk on the floor around each chair.  Four chairs are occupied by adults; three men and one woman.  One chair is occupied by an unknown figure, the size of a child but shrouded entirely in black robes.  The adults can be positively identified as Theodore Gadston, Jeremy Sloane, George Rutherford, and Crystal Scolxn; all confirmed Memorial Academy staff.

The remaining chairs are occupied by crude wax effigies of human heads.

Footage has been noted to induce mild confusion and delirium in viewers.  It is unclear if this effect is anomalous. As a precaution, do not read any part of the transcript aloud.
-----
<TRANSCRIPT BEGINS>

//<The robed figure claps its hands five times.  On the fifth clap, the wicks of the wax effigies ignite. Unnaturally thick smoke rises from each flame, then descends to form the shape of a headless humanoid figure in front of each chair.  Each smoke-figure then picks up the wax effigy in front of it, places it on its shoulders, and sits down.>//

**Sloane:** Uhh, is everyone in?  This marks the beginning of a special assembly of the Simon Grazeloae Memorial Academy Parent-Teacher Association.  Crystie will be taking minutes.  Roll call please.

//<Going around the circle one at a time, 17 of the 20 wax effigies stand and identify themselves.  All names correspond to confirmed SEEC members.  The flames of two of the remaining effigies have sputtered out, one remains lit but the smoke has failed to resolve into a humanoid figure.>//

**Sloane:** Uhh, let's see.  Michelle obviously can't make it, I think Mr. Ferris is sick with Covid.  Who else's missing?

**Samantha Summers (Effigy):** Joey's having connection problems, he says to wait for him and he'll be in in a minute.

//<There are several minutes of awkward silence as the descending coil of smoke continues to fail to resolve into a figure.>//

**Michael Vans (Effigy):** Can we just start?  I'm expecting a business call right after this.

**Gadston:** Yes, let us begin.  First order of business: the homeschooling program has been a disaster.  I didn't realize so many of our congregation had such difficulty following simple instructions.

**Janice Spix (Effigy):** Well //we// didn't realize you were putting our little ones through such an intense daily molting!  It isn't safe for the soul to have so much becoming so early, it causes stretch marks.  All I've done is adjust the markings to be age-appropriate.

**Summers:** Well, //Janice,// if you don't like it why don't you drop out and let someone else join the program?  Oh wait, that's right, it's too late for anyone else to get in this year!  And its too late for anyone who had to start conventional schooling to do the program at all!  So maybe you should be a little grateful, hmm?  Or if you know so much better than the Deacon, why don't you come up with your own education plan?

**Spix:** Oh, shush. //Your// boy wouldn't have qualified anyway.

//<Several of the effigies gasp. The Summers effigy's head bubbles violently, causing a large chunk of wax to slough off and land on the chair.  The remainder produces indistinct bubbling noises.  Crystal Scolxn leaves her chair, scoops up the fallen wax in her forelimbs and begins to repair the damage as the conversation continues.>//

**Jason McCathy (Effigy):** I think its those poems causing all the trouble.  They're from the Unraveller, they are.  The instars should only be hearing //proper// Fifthist nonsense.  Look at what happened to poor Michelle.  If that fool Stuart wants to get himself flung apart that's his business, but we can't have them corrupting the children.

//<There is a general buzz of agreement.>//

**[UNKNOWN](Effigy):** //pokey folks and hokey smokes
and okay yolks and soaps elope
spoken smoke in token woken
setting out without a route//

//<Confused murmuring, nodding among some of the effigies. Crystal Scolxn completes repairs on the Summers effigy and returns to her seat.>//

**Summers:** What? Don't listen to //her!// I bet she was the one who changed the authors list and let the devil in in the first place.

**Scolxn:** Ah ... no, that was me, sorry.  I always thought of Mr. Lee as a sort of honorary Fifthist, you know? Good vibrations.  I really loved //Garbage Delight// when I was little, I thought it'd be a little treat for the instars. I didn't mean to cause problems.

//<The unconnected effigy's smoke trail resolves into a humanoid figure with five arms and four legs, which presses the wax effigy into its lower abdomen.  It does not sit down, and instead begins to messily devour the unused effigy to its left.  The other participants ignore this.>//

**Gadston:** Crystie, I know you mean well but you really should leave those kinds of decisions up to the Academy leadership.  We're here to provide guidance on those sorts of matters.  Our collective will needs to be properly attuned and appropriately connected.

**[UNKNOWN]:** //starry-eyed and rarified
hoary riders far and wide
idle idols' tidal sidle
coastal castle lost at last//

//<Numerous effigies nod and whisper amongst themselves approvingly.>//

**Gadston:** ...no, that can't be right.  She's lying!  That devil was brought in from elsewhere, it has no place in the Fifth World.

**Sloane:** Uhh, can we not get into theology right now? We're way off track, the issue here is half of our instars are not meeting developmental targets, not that some of us have bad taste in literature.

//<Angry murmuring is heard.  The nine-limbed creature finishes devouring the unused effigy and returns to sit down in its own chair.//

**Joseph Wormwood (Effigy):** Man, what are we even talking about?  Did you //have// to start without me?  Someone remind me why we couldn't do this over Zoom?

**Sloane:**  Sorry about that, Joey.  Anyway, uh, we can reassess the molting schedule but basically it's not going to change very much.  Some of our instars have been through three years of this system by now, and they're doing great on the milestones so I don't see a problem.

**[UNKNOWN]:** //thrifty jive and swiftly dive
alive at minus fifty-five
keening meaning seen in gleaning
eyes of mice assizing ice//

//<Strongly affirmative murmurs and a few quiet cheers are heard.>//

**McCathy:**  You know, she's got a point. I never thought of it like that before.

**Gadston:** I think I'm starting to understand where you're coming from, but surely--

**Hooded Figure:** [DATA LOST]

//<There is just under a minute of complete silence. During this time, spacial distortions appear in the footage and a sourceless skittering noise is heard.  A number of effigies partially melt, including those of McCathy and [UNKNOWN].  Gadston's face also appears to melt slightly.>//

**Sloane:** Uhh, so as we were saying, the approved authors list will be reverted to include //only// classical Fifthist works, and the molting schedule will be reevaluated to see if it can be made a little easier on the instars.  All in favour?

//<The majority of participants raise an arm in agreement.>//

**Sloane:** Passes.  Uhh, as this was our main order of business for today and I'm sure you're all a little tired from all this astral projection, I'm going to call the meeting here.  We'll take care of the rest of the agenda when we can meet in person again.  Dismissed.

//<The smoke-figures return the wax effigies to their chairs.  The wicks extinguish and the smoke dissipates.  The men and the hooded figure stand.>//

**Sloane:** Crystie, could you get this cleaned up?

//<Crystal Scolxn looks up from her notes.  She looks momentarily irritated, but then smiles.//>

**Scolxn:** Certainly, Mr. Sloane. Just let me finish up with the minutes.

//<The men and the hooded figure leave the gym.  Scolxn puts her notebook away and begins going around the circle, transferring each effigy to a large cart and cleaning up the wax on and around the chairs.>//

**Scolxn:** Hmm?

//<Scolxn picks up the [UNKNOWN] effigy.  The wick is still glowing red. A tiny trail of smoke rises from the top and coils around one of Scolxn's ears.  The effigy's lips move silently.>//

**Scolxn:** Oh?  I see. Yes... Yes, you're probably right.

//<The trail of smoke dances about.  Crystal Scolxn nods slowly.>//

**Scolxn:** Yes, it's probably time to move on.  I'll see  what I can do.

//<The wick extinguishes.  Scolxn finishes cleaning the gym.>//

<TRANSCRIPT ENDS>
[[/div]]

[[=]]
-----
++++ {{Rachel Wormwood Witness Statement, April 26, 2020}}
-----
[[/=]]

[[div class="blockquote"]]
Oh yeah, the Chapel?  That was [UNKNOWN].  Everybody knows that. No, I didn't //see// her do it -- wait! Don't go, I did see it //happen.//  I just don't know how she did it. Just let me explain okay?

She's not a //real// Fifthist, you know?  Wasn't even raised in the church.  She's one of those new converts who's into crystals and astrology and wants to "find herself."  Yeah yeah, she knows the books pretty well, and she's got the light in her, but no roots.  The decent families go back at least a couple generations these days, and of course the //real// families, we go back before there was such a thing as a Fifth Church.  The newcomers, they're just in it for themselves.  No respect for authority, that's why the devils get 'em.

Yeah, the chapel, I'm getting to it!  So the weird thing was it was actually Jeremy. Jeremy Sloane, the vice-principal at the Academy?  She must have done something to him.  He got up on the roof and read out one of those awful poems off of a piece of lined paper.  Yeah, I remember it, can't seem to get it out of my head.  I'll write it down.

[[=]]
[[div class="document"]]
**Warning: Do not read any part of the following out loud.**
-----
//The first pair of socks is for dinner.
The twost pair of socks is for lunch.
The half pair of socks is for breakfast, you said, 
With cornflakes to give it a crunch.//

//The second pot holder's for dreaming.
The wecond's for when you're awake.
The onest is for anywhere anytime really,
But couldn't you leave me some cake?//

//The third paper boat is for leaving.
The word is you're not coming back.
The worst of it's sailing in circles forever,
How else will we get back on track?//

//A fourth of the moon is for lying.
A quarter's for telling the truth.
The northerly wind knows the answer, you said,
When called from a telephone booth.//

//A fifth of the blood is for bleeding.
A fifth of the bones are for glue.
A fifth of the way to the end of the world,
I won't be there waiting for you.//
[[/div]]
[[/=]]

It's a little hard to describe what actually happened?  At first it was kind of like an earthquake, but in a very small area, and pulsing, like a heartbeat. And right at the end, bones, from the ribcage, expanding out and closing over the building, and then there was a lot of blood everywhere.  Also corn flakes, which I thought was silly.  A //proper// working wouldn't have cornflakes.  Anyway, it was a weekday, so basically nobody was in the building.  I'm sure we'll have it fixed before long.  Too bad about Jeremy; it took them half the day to bend him back to approximately human shape, and he's really not the same.

Did I see anyone else?  Well, plenty of people gathering round to watch.  Plenty of the mundane folk running for their lives as well; I guess you people will take care of that for us?

Oh, I did see Crystal.  She was at the chapel before the incident, I guess, but she can't have been involved.  The Scolxns are as good a line as you get, they go way back, and Crystal's a fine church girl.  I admit, I did think she'd be more upset.  She had a thing for him, you know?  He was well out of her league, of course -- blood without smoke only gets you so far -- but she was pretty persistent about it for a while.  I guess she finally got over him. Probably for the best, under the circumstances.
[[/div]]

@@ @@

[[=]]
-----
++ {{Incident 9355-3}}
{{Incident 9355-3 refers to [DATA LOST]. Relevant documentation follows.}}
-----
++++ {{[UNKNOWN] Journal Entry April 28, 2020}}
-----
[[/=]]
[[div class="document"]]
Dear Diary,

They just don't get it.  It's all very frustrating.  This is //it.//  This is how you get there, to the Fifth World. The unravelling path.  You can't take all of yourself, you've gotta hollow out first, but you get there.  With the Archons, you have to become //them// and then none of you gets in.  That's no good, and it's not fair to Moon either. I guess this next part won't be either.  I'll see if I can leave him a way out, if he likes.  I owe him that much.

It's so clear to me now.  How can our Deacon not see it?  I'll give it one more shot, see if I can't shine through the smoke.  A nice clean theological debate, just the two of us.

If that doesn't work, I'll have to be a little underhanded.  The Unwinding Circle let me have one of the tapes.  Just in case.  I won't let anyone stop me from going there.
[[/div]]

[[=]]
-----
++++ {{[UNKNOWN] Interview Log (CONT)}}
-----
[[/=]]

[[div class ="blockquote"]]
**Dr. Hollander:** A few days after the incident at the chapel, your wife seemed to switch slides rather abruptly on the verschooling issue.  What happened?

**[UNKNOWN]:** Yes, well, it had become a bit of a scuffle.  Happens from time to time in a church; people come to an impasse and draw battle lines.  We had a great clash of wills.  Spires of bone protruding from suburban lawns.  Great waxen idols rising and melting.  Gleaming carapace.  Cars swam through the writhing asphalt like ancient war-beasts.  I suppose we must have caused you some trouble.

**Dr. Hollander:** You certainly did.

//<[UNKNOWN] laughs and pulls on his bowtie.>//

**[UNKNOWN]:** We couldn't just keep carrying on in the streets like that, so we invited the Deacon over to settle things over tea.  [UNKNOWN] sat at the table with it, and I poured the boiling liquid out over the table till it coated the surface.  Then she said, //"Shiny shiny shiny light--"//

//<[UNKNOWN] is interrupted by the loud beeping of the chamber's hume flux detectors.>//

**Dr. Hollander:** Stop.  Write it down.

//<[UNKNOWN] looks dejected.>//

**[UNKNOWN]:** Alright then.  What a shame.
[[=]]
[[div class="document"]]
**Warning: Do not read any part of the following out loud.**
-----
//Shiny shiny shiny light.
Glowing pink through grasping hands.
Wild wild wild flight.
Wash the waters, dry the sands.//

//Empty empty empty light.
Drains me till I overflow.
Cloudy cloudy cloudy sight.
Shows me things I'll never know.//

//Noisy noisy noisy light.
Rings my body like a bell.
Quiet quiet quiet plight.
All is lost and all is well.//

//Lovely lovely lovely light,
Doesn't care what shape I'm in.
Tender tender tender bite.
Ever gentle -- breaks the skin.//

//Shiny shiny shiny light.
Drowning in a pool of dry.
Lonely lonely lonely night.
I'll go with you, please don't cry.//
[[/div]]
[[/=]]

**[UNKNOWN]:** The light shone below the liquid's surface and made everything else pale, brittle.  It was terribly beautiful.  The Deacon stared at it for a long time.  Then he said something I didn't understand -- I never did learn the Divine Tongue properly -- and reached through the surface of the table and snuffed it out.

//<[UNKNOWN] pauses. He seems to struggle to breathe.>//

**[UNKNOWN]:** [UNKNOWN] seemed upset, but she didn't say anything.  The Deacon clapped its hands three times, and then I'm not sure what happened.  The air was like hard plastic.  After that was when she went back over to the Academy side of the split.  She even agreed to help supervise the verschooling program once they went back to school.
[[/div]]

[[=]]
-----
++++ {{Surveillance Footage: Subjective, Variable, Fifth of May (5.5)}}
-----
[[/=]]

[[div class="blockquote"]]
**Foreword:**  The following footage was delivered to a Foundation front company on May 5, 2020, immediately following Incident 9355-3.  Package was unlabelled, but gift-wrapped in glossy white paper and tied with a pink ribbon, as is characteristic of GoI 05-30 (The Unwinding Circle).  Please be advised that while this content does not appear to be ontokinetically or memetically hazardous, it does trigger a state of abnormal subjectivity, and has mild mnestic effects.
-----
<CONTENT BEGINS>

I don't like school.  I wish I could stay home like last month.  I thought we were going to stay home for longer, but the Church got the government people to let us go back early, which sucks and I don't like it.

I'd rather be at home with Mommy and Daddy, even if they're busy and we do mostly the same stuff as at school.  I guess Mommy's at school now, but she's different since the thing from somewhere else came to visit.

Really, I wish I could just do regular school.  The other kids get to learn things.  Special school is supposed to be better but I don't get how.  It makes you less, instead of more.  I'd rather just learn to read.

I think that's how the poems and stuff got to us.  The molting sort of peels you away so other things can reach you, and a bit of the light slipped in instead.  It likes it when things get peeled away.  Mommy got really excited about it, but I don't think she really got it.

I don't think the adults //can// get it.  There's too much of them.  Too dense.  It slows the light down, so it spends too long inside them.  Starts to take them apart.  If you're nearly transparent, like it is, then you can hear it, just a little.  Thoughts that disappear before you can really think them, and a ringing sound.  I think it wants someone to play with.

A bell rings, and something with my Mommy's face says words that crawl through the air, leaving slimy trails, like little snails.  I remember there was something she wanted me to do, once school started again.

I wait for the other kids to leave the room, then  I go over and tug at her skirt.  She smiles down at me with eyes that glint like hard plastic.  I repeat back the words she told me, before.

[[=]]
//"Up in a shoebox, up in the closet
Up where I just can't reach.
They think I don't know, they think I'm too slow,
They think they can fill up my skull up with cotton
Until I forget about what I've forgotten."//
[[/=]]

Mommy's body goes stiff and shaky.  Smoke comes out of her ears. 

[[=]]
//"Everything scary, everything hairy
Everything they won't teach.
So what if they're crude, so what if they're rude,
So what if they're wicked and ugly and rotten?
I want them all back! I want myself back!"//
[[/=]]

Mommy coughs up red stuff and grabs at her chest.  Things are moving, inside her throat, under her skin.  It must hurt.  I'm sorry, Mommy. 

[[=]]
//"Pile up the books and pile up the boxes,
Till I can barely reach.
There's nobody here, there's nothing to fear,
So pull down the shoebox and get with the gottin'
Of all of the things that I've ever forgotten."//
[[/=]]

Mommy coughs up up a little thing made of flesh and wax.   She stomps on it till it turn to slime, and smiles at me.  Red and pink stuff drips from her chin, and from her eyes, and there's still something moving under her skin.  The dull plastic glint in her eye vanishes, replaced by a dangerous sparkle.

"Thank you, Moon," she says.  "You've been very brave.  Now, run.  Run straight home and find Daddy, okay?   Mommy has to take care of something."

Mommy hugs me, and I want to cry again but I don't.  I love Mommy, but she's also kind of scary.  I run away as fast as I can.

I go out to where the camera can't see me.  Mommy stays in the room and pulls a little black rectangle out of the bottom of her purse.

Someone else comes through the door.  A child-sized thing in an oversized black cloak.  A thing from somewhere else.  Smoke swirls around.  Everything it touches gets a little bit thin.

"[DATA LOST]," says the thing.

Mommy laughs.  "You really //don't// get it, do you?"

Skittering things close in on Mommy from all sides, from directions that shouldn't exist.  Too many to count.

She eats the little black rectangle.

The tape plays.  A light shines in the water.

There is a loose end.  Something pulls on it.  Mommy is gone.  The skittering things are gone.  The hooded figure is gone.  Other things are gone.

The camera stops recording.

<CONTENT ENDS>
[[/div]]

[[=]]
-----
++++ {{[UNKNOWN] Interview Log(CONT)}}
-----
[[/=]]

[[div class ="blockquote"]]
**[UNKNOWN]:** Does that clear up everything?  Do you have any more questions?

**Dr. Hollander:**  Not for today.  Thank you for your cooperation.

//<[UNKNOWN] begins to undo the knot of his bowtie.>//

**[UNKNOWN]:** In that case, I should get going.  It's a bit late, my wife will be wondering where I am.

**Dr. Hollander:** Excuse me?  I think you misunderstand, you aren't going anywhere except back to your containment cell.

//<[UNKNOWN] pauses with his bowtie partially undone.>//

**[UNKNOWN]:** Oh, did you ever pass on that hypothetical question of mine to our little Moon?

**Dr. Hollander:** What?  Oh.  Moon said hypothetically, if given the option, he'd rather stay at the orphanage.  Again, I don't see how this matters, neither of you is going --

**[UNKNOWN]:** Ah, thank the stars.  I don't know if I could bear to wear this much longer.  Tell him goodbye from daddy, wouldn't you?

//[UNKNOWN] finishes undoing his bowtie and removes it.  His head falls off.  Pressurized blood sprays onto Dr. Hollander from his cleanly severed neck. The head rolls slowly across the table toward her.>//

**Dr. Hollander:** THE HELL!?

//<Dr. Hollander slams a button on her console.  A thick transparent barrier slams into place, separating the two halves of the room and blocking the spray of blood.  [UNKNOWN]'s head rolls up against the barrier and stops, facing Dr. Hollander.  Its lips begin to move.>//

**[UNKNOWN]:** //A little pink ribbon is tied in a bow.//
//Pull on the end! And it all comes undone.//

//<The chamber's hume flux alarm activates.>//

**Dr. Hollander:** I //hate// Fifthists. Calling for a full site evacuation, NOW. Everyone get the hell out of here!

**[UNKNOWN]:** //A little pink ribbon falls loose to the floor.//

//<Dr. Hollander exits the interrogation chamber.>//

**[UNKNOWN]:** //Pull on the end! And it all comes undone.//

 //<[UNKNOWN]'s body bursts, coating half of the chamber with viscera.>//

**[UNKNOWN]:** //A little pink thread tangled up in a bunch.//
    
//<Two of the site's four Scranton Reality Anchors go critical.>//
    
**[UNKNOWN]:** //Pull on the end! And it all comes undone.//

//<The remains of [UNKNOWN]'s body evaporate into pink vapour.>//

**[UNKNOWN]:** //A puff of pink smoke drifting by overhead.//

//<The remaining two anchors in the site's network go critical.  Obvious spacetime distortions are visible.>//

**[UNKNOWN]:** //Pull on the end! And it all comes undone.//

//<The pink vapour dissolves into [DATA LOST].>//

**[UNKNOWN]:**  //A ray of pink light shining through to the shore.//

//<Undifferentiated matter is visible.>//

**[UNKNOWN]:** //Pull on the end! And it all comes undone!//

//<All contact with Provisional Site-9355 is lost.>//

<TRANSCRIPT ENDS>
[[/div]]
[[=]]
@@ @@
@@ @@
@@ @@
@@ @@
  *  *  *
[[include :scp-wiki:component:audio-player-woed-source
|unique-name=asteriskcookies
|audio-file= https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/scp-9355/Asteriskcookies.mp3
|background-color=rgb(252, 252, 252)
|border-color=rgb(255, 0, 255)
|border-radius=0.313rem
|dropshadow-color=rgba(12, 12, 12, 0.15)
|text-color=rgb(255, 0, 255)
|icons-color=rgb(255, 0,255)
|player-color=rgb(255, 0, 255)
|progress-color=rgb(80, 0, 2)
]]
//Scour up a cup of flour,
Then you toss it in the trash.
Feed your oats to several goats and 
Burn the oil all to ash.//

//Crack an egg into your leggings
Scatter sugar to the breeze;
Drink the milk and heat the oven
To ten jillion degrees.//

//Then you wait for fifteen minutes.
Then you wait for fifteen more.
Then you listen for the sound
of someone 
knocking at the door//

//then you open up the door
then you meet the nowhere man//

//then he bakes you in the oven
then he keeps you in a can//
@@ @@
@@ @@
@@ @@
[[include component:image-block
    name=https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/scp-9355/cookies.png |
    caption= And that's how you make asterisk cookies! |
    align=center |
    width=30em
]]

[[/=]]

@@ @@
@@ @@

[[div class="footer-wikiwalk-nav"]]
[[=]]
<< [[[SCP-9354]]] | SCP-9355 | [[[SCP-9356]]] >>
[[/=]]

[[/div]]
[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box]]
=====
> **Filename:** cookies.png
> **Author:** Winterheart
> **License:** CC-by-SA 3.0
> **Source Link:** https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/scp-9355/cookies.png

> **Filename:** Asteriskcookies.mp3
> **Author:** Winterheart
> **License:** CC-by-SA 3.0
> **Source Link:** https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/scp-9355/Asteriskcookies.mp3

> **Filename:** asterisk cookies.png
> **Author:** Winterheart
> **License:** CC-by-SA 3.0
> **Source Link:** https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/scp-9355/asterisk%20cookies.png
======
[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]

SCP-9355

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