SPC-ES-125

Link to article: SPC-ES-125.


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[[include component:preview
|text=A loud shrieking sound is heard, and the house behind Everwood erupts in a tower of wood, concrete and leather-brown boxing gloves.]]

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[[include :scp-wiki:component:author-label-source start=--
|name=Lemonsense]]
= **SPC-ES-125** by [[*user Lemonsense]]
[[=]]
A birthday gift for my good friend, [[*user Uncle Nicolini]]! ¡Feliz cumpleaños, amigo!
[[/=]]
[[include :scp-wiki:component:author-label-source end=--]]
[[div class="CICAPOCOnotice"]]
[[=]]
**NOTICE FROM THE CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE COORDINATION AND PROJECTS OPERATION COMMAND OFFICE**
----
SPC-ES-125 is currently active. SILVER SNOW activations are only authorizable by ORACLE or PUGILORD-Belt Personnel. Members of the Stellar Pugilism Corps are to keep SILVER SNOW loaded with empty BLASTING GLOVE ammunition at all times to ensure activation orders can be confirmed, as well as to ensure COLD OVEN is fully operational.

-- Diana Rosen, Commissioner, CICAPOCO
[[/=]]
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[[table style="width: 100%; font-size: 120%;"]]
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[[span style="font-weight: 900;"]]PROJECT:[[/span]] SPC-ES-125
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[[cell style=" text-align: right;"]]
[[span style="font-weight: 900;"]]STATUS:[[/span]] [[span style="font-family:var(--mono-font);font-size:110%;letter-spacing:.3px;color:green;"]]ACTIVE[[/span]]
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[[=]]
----
+++ Selachian Pugnātorial Capabilities
----
[[/=]]

SPC-ES-125's core component, SILVER SNOW, is a medium-sized, nuclear-powered Orbital Strike High-Impact Terminal (OSHIT), based off models utilized by the Enlightened Kingdom of Deitschland and the Rhine during the Second Benthic War.[[footnote]] While the Deistch-Model OSHIT could only maintain positions in the stratosphere or lower atmospheric levels, SILVER SNOW is currently positioned in Low Earth orbit. [[/footnote]] SILVER SNOW is capable of remotely supporting a loading and maintenance crew of up to five people for up to six months.
@@ @@
[[=]]
----
+++ Specific Project Components
----
[[/=]]

The majority of SILVER SNOW's primary mass is composed of COLD OVEN, a large Poseideon Laboratories-Model Full-Scale Alloyed Fabricator, utilizing Deviant technology to produce BLASTING GLOVE ammunition for the primary weapons system of SILVER SNOW. With current production settings, COLD OVEN is capable of producing one fully loaded instance of BLASTING GLOVE every five minutes, one half loaded instance every two minutes and one empty instance every forty-five seconds.[[footnote]] Due to the speed at which BLASTING GLOVE instances exit COLD OVEN once complete, it is advised that COLD OVEN is not set to automatically produce empty BLASTING GLOVE instances outside of potential necessity during a K/O Class Scenario. [[/footnote]]

BLASTING GLOVE instances are 36x70x32 inch steel containers resembling refrigerators.[[footnote]] A 15x10x8 inch plasteel option resembling a cooler box is also available from COLD OVEN's activation terminal. This option is to not be utilized due to its decidedly less cool use as an intimidation tactic. [[/footnote]] Each instance of BLASTING GLOVE created with a loaded option by COLD OVEN contains a number of leather boxing gloves, the primary payload of SILVER SNOW's weapons system.

Upon being loaded into SILVER SNOW's cannon, each BLASTING GLOVE instance is primed for rapid descent through Earth's atmosphere through a further, rapid series of Deviant technological applications. Upon receiving the order, SILVER SNOW's cannon will then fire the BLASTING GLOVE instance directly at its target at roughly 200 KM/PH, resulting in its near-instant delivery to the requested strike location. Upon contact with the ground, or any object in its trajectory towards the ground, BLASTING GLOVE instances will produce a 3 Megawatt explosion, likely leading to the destruction of any object within a short distance of the payload.[[footnote]] Notably, this explosion has been shown to be entirely non-lethal, and only damaging to objects in the immediate vicinity of the BLASTING GLOVE instance, leaving the payload itself intact and most living creatures alive with minor shrapnel-related injuries. A direct physical hit from a BLASTING GLOVE instance, however, has proven to be capable of killing members of almost every currently living species on the planet, with the notable exception of the North American beaver. [[/footnote]]

[[=]]
----
+++ Augmentation Summary I
----
[[/=]]

SILVER SNOW was seized from its former owners, the Georgian Republics Unification Party,[[footnote]] Often shortened to GRU-P, the Georgian Republics Unification Party is a political party within the Sovereign Slavic Republican Union. Originally founded in 1937 by Ioseb Besarionis dze Jughashvili, the party heavily pushes far-left economic policies, the utilization of Deviants to strengthen the standing of the SSRU within European and global politics and the unification of the Union's provinces in the Region of Georgia under one collective local government. Ties to the nearby Confederation of Adytum's Lakes are rumored, but Sharkic influence in the party is yet to be proven. [[/footnote]] in March 2013, following a failed rocket launch in Mingrelia led to the discovery of several former members' heavy misuse of the Sovereign Slavic Space Program's funding. This seizure, while not approved of by the SSRU's parliament, was backed by the Republic of Rumelia, as //Cumhurbaşkanı// Esra Seçer believed it would distract the SSRU from its ongoing attempts to annex the then-rebelling Region of Armenia.[[footnote]] It would not, in fact, distract the SSRU, who would proceed to drop two nuclear warheads on Yerevan after several dozen brigades of troops were turned into rock salt by Deviant-utilizing rebel forces. [[/footnote]] In the years following, SILVER SNOW would undergo renovations at Compound-300 in Interior Australia, before being relaunched in November of the same year. Since then, SILVER SNOW has delivered over five hundred BLASTING GLOVE payloads, leading to a total hit count of 1,769,324.[[footnote]] Friendly, Unfriendly and Otherwise Ambivalent fire were all accounted for in this figure. [[/footnote]] SILVER SNOW's commanding officer, Hubert Debussy, has been awarded the Centre's Five-Finger Fist Award for his service to the Centre and its cause.

A proposal to acquire a set of blueprints from the Deistch Luft-Weltraumkraft Archiv's Aeronautics section, specifically the OSHIT model which SILVER SNOW was constructed to resemble, is currently pending ORACLE approval.

[[=]]
----
+++ Augmentation Summary II
----
[[/=]]

On DATE,[[footnote]] Are we just getting lazy, or is this a joke at my expense now? [[/footnote]] a BLASTING GLOVE bombardment were called in over the Union of American States, directed at the town of Boring, Cascadia, despite no Selachian Entities being detected in the area. Approximately a day later, the following recording was uploaded to the Centre's video archives.

[[div class="blockquote"]]
[[=]]
+++ MISSION RECORDING
++++ __PUGILORD J. EVERWOOD__
----
[[/=]]
Begin recording... 1837 hours.[[footnote]] Spoken by Everwood several seconds before the Centre-issue recording software's speech-assignment transcriber came online. [[/footnote]]

The camera comes into focus as the person carrying it (later stated to be Assault Assistant Rex Alces) lifting it from a downward facing position, as it focuses on Everwood's face. They and Alces appear to be driving through a suburban area in Everwood's 2007 Ford Focus, the former's attention being directed to the left side of the street.

**Alces:** Are you sure this is a good idea, Jay? I mean, you've [[[spc-446|thrown sharks at his house before]]], but... this feels a bit excessive? You were probably going to hit him eventually, anyway.

**Everwood:** Rex, that son of a bitch has been writing in his little fucking wildlife magazine about the sharks we send his way for the last six years. Bastard won't even let me cancel my subscription to it, and if I see one more article about how Daniella the Dogfish is progressing with her novel, I'm going to jump into Boston Harbor with a bag of cement tied to my feet. //They grip the wheel tightly, glaring at a pair of children playing soccer on their front lawn.//

**Alces:** What?

**Everwood:** Ninety. THOUSAND. Words. In three years. How the hell is a Selachian with a Apple iBook writing more words on average than George R.R. Martin?

**Alces:** Jay, you do know you can just... not read the magazine, right?

**Everwood:** That's besides the point, Rex. As good as they are for lighting the fire, this subscription is costing me five dollars a month. Do you know how much the Centre pays me?

**Alces:** A lot, I imagine?

**Everwood:** Wrong. They pay me in salt. One kilogram of salt per hour. //Everwood's eyes light up, and they pull the car to a stop across the street from a semi-detached house near a turn-off.// Only four dollars! Sure, I'm technically on the clock at all times, but 672 dollars a week isn't much at the end of the day. Not in this economy. Now, get out. Bring the camera.

//Alces' door can be heard opening, as Everwood appears to attach a small object to their ear. The camera is pointed downward as the two approach the front door of the house. As they reach the front door, Everwood raises their arm and knocks rapidly for about fifteen seconds. Shortly after stopping, the door opens and a young woman, identified as the Wilsons' Wildlife Foundation member Faeowynn Wilson, stands looking at Everwood and Alces, visibly sleep-deprived.//

**Wilson:** Can I help-

//Everwood raises their arm to point at Wilson.//

**Everwood:** I'll cut to the chase. I'm Jay Everwood, Pugilord of the Centre and general kick-ass individual.^^[citation needed]^^ You are a known member of the Wilsons' Wildlife Foundation, and direct relative of its founder, Tim Wilson. I have, for the last //six damn years,// been firing Selachians at this house, to no avail. However, I am now capable of firing a weapon far more effective than a simple flung carcharodon. Harold!

//A few moments pass, as Wilson stares at Everwood, confused. She opens her mouth to speak, but closes it almost immediately. A loud shrieking sound is heard, and the house behind Everwood erupts in a tower of wood, concrete and leather-brown boxing gloves. Everwood's car alarm is triggered.//

**Wilson:** WHAT THE FU-

**Everwood:** That, my dear enemy, was a high velocity fridge, launched directly from orbit. As we speak, my associates are loading another into our weapons system.

**Alces:** Jay, you just levelled that house.

//Everwood pauses and stares at Alces, unamused.//

**Everwood:** Yes. Nobody lived there.

**Alces:** It... looked pretty lived in.

//Everwood sighs.//

**Everwood:** Look behind you.

//Alces turns the camera to face the wreckage of the other house. From under the remains of a china cabinet, a pale man in a black suit and fedora pulls himself from the rubble and dusts himself off, before looking over to the trio across the street and raising a thumbs up.//

**Alces:** What the-

**Everwood:** Camera back here, please Rex.

//The camera turns again to face Everwood and Wilson. The latter stares at the wreckage across the street, utterly flabbergasted.//

**Everwood:** Simply put, you're in a lose-lose situation. Now, I have one simple condition, the completion of which will result in me //not// ordering the complete destruction of this property. I want you to take me to Tim Wilson, wherever he may be. I don't care if he's on the toilet, in a meeting or getting his spine realigned by a martial artist in Akaiki. You'll take me to him, and I'm gonna punch that old-

**Wilson:** He's dead.

//Everwood pauses.//

**Everwood:** He's what?

**Wilson:** [[[myocardial-infarction|Dead. Heart attack. Two weeks ago today, actually.]]]

//Everwood's arm drops to their side.//

**Everwood:** I... Uh, look, I'm sorry for showing up and, like, immediately threatening to drop a fridge on your house from orbit. I genuinely had no idea-

**Wilson:** No, no. You're fine. We... weren't very public about it. You couldn't have known.

**Alces:** Uh, should I still be-

**Everwood:** Yes, Rex.

**Wilson:** Yeah, no, it's fine.

//The trio stand in silence for a few seconds.//

**Wilson:** Sorry, I kind of... ruined the vibe, didn't I?

**Alces:** Just a little. Sorry for just... barging in.

**Everwood:** Uh, we can leave and come back later, if you'd like. Head back to Compound-64 and just give you some time.

**Wilson:** Oh, god no. The company... it's nice. Spent a lot of time in my own head lately. Nice to be dragged out, even if it's over... this.

//Wilson takes a step back, gesturing for Alces and Everwood to enter.//

**Wilson:** I'm making quesadillas. You guys want one?

//Everwood looks over their shoulder at Alces before nodding, presumably in response to Alces doing the same.//

**Alces:** Yeah, actually. Saving queueing in McDonald's.

[[include :scp-wiki:component:image-block
name=faeowynnandeverwood.png|
caption=Still from Alces' recording. |
align=center |
width=100%
]]

//Everwood cups their hand around their ear and removes a small wiretap, throwing it into the front garden's shrubbery. Wilson smiles faintly, before walking further into the house's front room. Alces and Everwood move to follow her, with Alces placing the face lens down on a table by the front door as they enter. The next fifteen minutes of visuals and audio are devoid of content, before the camera feed cuts out.//
-------
Following this incident, both Pugilord Everwood and Assault Assistant Alces have been formally reprimanded for engaging in non-hostile behaviors with a known Selachian Sympathizer. An inquiry into whether or not this incident constitutes enough of a breach of Centre protocol to strip Everwood of their title is currently ongoing, pending completion by DATE.[[footnote]] This organization is a fucking circus. [[/footnote]] When asked for comment on the matter, Alces simply stated "the quesadillas were pretty damn good, though."[sic]
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**To:** ##blue|@@f.wilson@wwfmail.net@@##
**From:** ##blue|@@jayeverwoodelnumerouno@sharkpunchersiswe.fu@@##
**Subject:** Hi
[[/div]]
------
Hey Fae! Technically not supposed to be sending this email (you being a Selachian sympathizer and all), but I wanted to thank you for the food yesterday. You're a good cook, I'll give you that. Quetzalcoatli quesadillas are still better, though. Try ordering ingredients from there when you can.

P.S: Could you cancel my subscription to the magazine for me? Dunno if you saw on the news, but banks are halting all deposits via non-paper currency, and I might be a bit tight on the money front for a while until I can get ORACLE to pay me normally.
------
Pugilord Jay Everwood
The Centre
[[/div]]
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**To:** ##green|@@jayeverwoodelnumerouno@sharkpunchersiswe.fu@@##
**From:** ##green|@@f.wilson@wwfmail.net@@##
**Subject:** Re:Hi
[[/div]]
------
Hi Jay! It was a pleasure having you over, and thanks for it! I'd ask you to come again, but I think we're meant to be mortal enemies again now, so... ¯\_('-')_/¯

I'll consider your advice on the ingredients, although shipping taxes from down south are //really// getting out of hand. Three dollars in tax? Per pound of cheese? In this economy? Outrageous.

P.S: No. Seek a more sane place of employment. Until then, those five dollars a month are mine, baby. <3
------
Faeowynn Wilson
Wilson's Wildlife Foundation
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

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SPC-ES-125

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