The Rising Eclipse

Link to article: The Rising Eclipse.

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[[>]]
[[module Rate]]
[[/>]]

[[include :scp-wiki:theme:basalt darkmode=a|hidetitle=a]]

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++ May 1st 2023, 06:10 

Mordecai's third alarm rings and he sluggishly turns in bed. Inhaling deep, multiple pops usher from under the covers. He struggles to right himself. Eventually he does, and manages to turn off the infuriating alarm. 

He prays, he stretches, he stands. 

Shuffling into the kitchen, he prepares a pot of coffee. Hal, his white rabbit servitor, sleeps soundly on the couch. Some nights, when a severe episode happens, Mordecai sleeps on the couch with her. It was better than sleeping in the un-decorated bedroom, alone...

"Good morning Hal," Mordecai grumbles as he sets up the coffee machine. Hal's ear twitches, still lost in synthetic sleep.

The coffee brews and warm, bitter-sweet aroma wafts throughout the apartment. Mordecai pulls out eggs and cheese from a sparsely stocked fridge. With the eggs frying, Mordecai takes a swift glance toward his personal laptop. 

He sighs. Working on the anomalies had inspired him. Yet, he was still too nervous to get back into writing. It felt empty, and like he was staring at concrete. Internally, he was actually staring at concrete. All five of him that is, all peeking out into the rest of Mordecai's headspace. Mostly, barren concrete and asphalt.


The coffee finishes brewing, while prepping the cup, out of his eye he perceives a silhouette of a bird-person.

Glancing in that direction, he only sees an empty dining room.

He returns his focus to his coffee and takes a sip. With the honey and breve; lightly sweet, bitter, and creamy. In his thoughtspace, peeking out, cracks began to form on the concrete in the headspace. Something wells inside him, and compels him to walk over and open the laptop.

Ignoring all chat messages, he opens a new text file, puts on music, and allows himself to be lost in his ##gold|thoughtspace## as he types. After a few all-consuming moments, Mordecai's eggs start to burn.

"Oh shit," he says to himself as he jumps up to tend to his eggs. Not burnt, but definitely done. He fixes himself a plate and sits back down at his laptop. The screen reads:

@@ @@

[[div class="document"]]
[[div class="script"]]

[[=]]
[[size 225%]]Notes on "The Rising Eclipse"[[/size]]

[[size 90%]]Notes as a Play in (1) Act
by
the Median[[/size]]
[[/=]]

------


[[=]]
[[size 130%]]__Cast of Characters__[[/size]]
[[/=]]
[[table style="border: none; width: 100%;"]]
[[row]]
[[cell]]
[[size 105%]]__BLUES__:[[/size]]
[[/cell]]
[[cell style="text-align: right;"]]
[[size 105%]]Seven foot, four-armed blue troll. Tends to be soft spoken, considered the head writer of the Faery Ring.[[/size]]
[[/cell]]
[[/row]]
[[/table]]

[[table style="border: none; width: 100%;"]]
[[row]]
[[cell]]
[[size 105%]]__CR0W__:[[/size]]
[[/cell]]
[[cell style="text-align: right;"]]
[[size 105%]]Deceased headmate[[footnote]]Other words include: an alter, a thoughtform, an aspect of the self that has usually gained some level of sapience and autonomy.[[/footnote]], resurrected as a Nephilim in the form of a bird-person. Loud, and boisterous.[[/size]]
[[/cell]]
[[/row]]
[[/table]]

[[table style="border: none; width: 100%;"]]
[[row]]
[[cell]]
[[size 105%]]__FIFE__:[[/size]]
[[/cell]]
[[cell style="text-align: right;"]]
[[size 105%]]Anthropomorphic jackalope, whimsical, talkative, and good-natured. Assists the two head writers.[[/size]]
[[/cell]]
[[/row]]
[[/table]]

[[table style="border: none; width: 100%;"]]
[[row]]
[[cell]]
[[size 105%]]__RUFF__:[[/size]]
[[/cell]]
[[cell style="text-align: right;"]]
[[size 105%]]Anthropomorphic hellhound, orderly, and poignant. Considered to be second writer to BLUES.[[/size]]
[[/cell]]
[[/row]]
[[/table]]

[[table style="border: none; width: 100%;"]]
[[row]]
[[cell]]
[[size 105%]]__STACCATO__:[[/size]]
[[/cell]]
[[cell style="text-align: right;"]]
[[size 105%]]Depressed Irish-American leprechaun. Vocal, but anti-social. Is the typist of the group.[[/size]]
[[/cell]]
[[/row]]
[[/table]]

@@ @@
@@ @@
@@ @@
@@ @@
@@ @@
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[[=]]
[[size 130%]]__Scene__:[[/size]] ###9b8200|**The Faery Hall**##, internalized head space, ###9b8200|**thoughtspace**##.[[/=]]

@@ @@

[[=]]
[[size 130%]]__Time__:[[/size]] N/A
[[/=]]
------
[[>]]
[[size 75%]]
I-1-1
[[/size]]
[[/>]]

[[=]]
[[size 130%]]__ACT I__[[/size]]
@@@@
[[size 130%]]__Scene 1__[[/size]]
[[/=]]
[[table style="border: none; width: 100%;"]]
[[row]]
[[cell style="width: 25%; vertical-align: top;"]]
[[size 120%]]SETTING:[[/size]]
[[/cell]]
[[cell]]
STACCATO, and FIFE are LOUNGING on a sofa in a dimly lit hall. Bookshelves line the walls, there is a theatre stage crammed in the back of the Hall. BLUES is INSPECTING the bookshelves. CR0W is PACING, and RUFF is SITTING in a chair READING. The text on his book is obscured.
[[/cell]]
[[/row]]
[[/table]]

[[table style="border: none; width: 100%;"]]
[[row]]
[[cell style="width: 25%; vertical-align: top;"]]
[[size 120%]]AT PRESENT:[[/size]]
[[/cell]]
[[cell]]
BLUES is AT bookshelf. STACCATO and FIFE are ON a sofa. RUFF is READING a book. CR0W is PACING anxiously.
[[/cell]]
[[/row]]
[[/table]]

@@ @@
@@ @@

[[div class="fadein"]]
FADE IN:
[[/div]]
[[div class="scene"]]
INT. THE FAERY HALL - TIME'S NOT REAL
[[/div]]

@@ @@
@@ @@

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
BLUES
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
We haven't written about ###9b8200|**The Company of the Silver Twilight**## in a long while.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="action"]]
(BLUES continues INSPECTING the bookshelf.)
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
FIFE
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
We haven't written in a long time. Period.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
CR0W
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Hmph. I'd like to write again.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="action"]]
(CR0W continues PACING, is irritated by BLUES.)
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
BLUES
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
It feels almost a lifetime ago when we first started writing that series, and it'd be fun to return to it.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
STACCATO
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
--and we have more life experience.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
RUFF
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
We should be careful about how we write, we don't want to draw the ire of our employers.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[/div]]
[[/div]]

@@ @@

Mordecai takes a bite of cheesy egg.

Bleh.

He sticks his tongue out and spits the half-chewed egg into the trash.

A little //too// well-done. 

He leans over the rest of the eggs and whispers ##gold|"Done"##. 

He takes another bite, the eggs are perfect.

Humming to himself through the music on his headset, he sets a timer for an hour and goes back to writing. When his timer goes off, he saves and gets ready for work.

As he passes Hal, he coos to her, "I've started writing again, Hal!"

Hal perks her head from her sleeping position. Wearily, she bobs her head up and down.

"That's right! I'm doin' the thing!"

She lays her head back down and falls to sleep. Grinning to himself, Mordecai leaves.

------
++ 08:29

Mordecai sits at his desk and scrolls through his emails. Site-43 had discovered an anomaly similar in composition and appearance to SCP-7710. The instance they found however prefered the shape of a harmless, small dodo. Researchers at Site-43 requested a sample of SCP-7710 be shipped to them as soon as convenient.

Dread fills Mordecai's stomach as he continues checking. 

[[div class="blockquote"]]

**To:** Researcher Mordecai Ryder
**From:** Head Researcher Leah Królik
**Subject:** Project lead
**Date:** 2023/05/01
**Time:** 08:43
------

Good morning Mordecai,

I'm promoting you to lead thaumaturge for SCP-6420. The team has speculated for the last year of thaumaturgic interference but hasn't had the budget for a thaumaturge until... well, recently. There will be a meeting at 13:15 in Conference Room C. Please review the anomaly's dossier attached. Further documentation will be available after the meeting and tomorrow afternoon you'll be touring the location of SCP-6420-1.

Head Researcher Leah Królik,
Department of Research, ARF-19

##cyan|[SCP-6420.pdf]## 

[[/div]]

@@ @@

[[div class="blockquote"]]

**Item #:** SCP-6420

**Object Class:** Keter

**Special Containment Procedures:** The perimeter around SCP-6420-1 must be guarded at all times. Any civilians entering the area should be turned away and informed that SCP-6420-1 is hazardous and unstable. 

[...]

**Description:** SCP-6420 is the collective designation for a series of anomalies located inside and in the area of a dilapidated house in rural Michigan. SCP-6420-1 is the former residence of Tal Kinigl and Isa Kinigl. Tal Kinigl is a human cadaver presently afflicted by an instance of SCP-6420-3. 

SCP-6420-2[[footnote]]The identity of SCP-6420-2 is conjectured to be Isa Kinigl.[[/footnote]] is a living humanoid afflicted by SCP-6420-3. Instances of SCP-6420-3 are parasitic kits bearing genomic and phenotypical commonalities with //lagomorphae//[[footnote]]Order consisting of rabbits, hares and pika.[[/footnote]] and //arachnea//.[[footnote]]Order including spiders.[[/footnote]] SCP-6420-3 are ~0.7 cm in length.

When placed on the back of the neck of a sapient humanoid, SCP-6420-3 bites and burrows through the neck into the subject's brainstem. Reaching the pituitary gland, SCP-6420-3 excretes an unknown hormone.

[[/div]]

Leah wanted to promote Mordecai to lead thaumaturge... how could he possibly juggle all this responsibility? He sighs and checks the time; 08:56. He takes a sip from his coffee mug. 

Empty. 

Cursing silently to himself, he rises and makes his way to the break room. Once there, Mordecai realises he's not alone as he watches Królik fix himself a cup. 

Mordecai was not in the mood to socialise. He wanted to get his work done quickly, and peacefully. He wanted to be able to return home early, and continue drafting. Such compulsion he hadn't felt since before he joined the Foundation.

"Ah, Mordecai excellent work with the pollution rhino!" Królik cheers as he sips his coffee.

Mordecai tries to hide his anxiety as he smiled, "Yea, thanks," he pours himself a cup.

"I read you're going to be on my team soon," states Królik in an attempt to make small talk.

Mordecai nods his head in agreement and shuffles out of the break room.

"Leah was right, he isn't all too talkative," Królik mumbles to an empty room.

------
++ 13:13

After reading through SCP-6420, Mordecai understood where Leah was coming from about the thaumaturgy. He knocks on the door a few minutes early. Królik opens the door and ushers Mordecai inside. Królik and Leah are mid-conversation when Mordecai enters the room. He takes an empty seat by Leah.

"Mordecai, I know you're already familiar with Containment Specialist Samson, present are members of 6420's team. You know my brother Królik."

"Yea, we had collaborated on 7710's conprocs," Mordecai says.

"The chemical composition is very interesting," Królik bluntly states, still recalling Mordecai's reaction at his attempts of small talk. Keep to the point.

Leah continues, "I think you met Mackenzie one other time?"

"I believe we met when I first was assigned to ARF-19," Mordecai mumbles and nods toward the rabbit humanoid.

Mackenzie nods back and types on her laptop. The text-to-speech program repeats, "We had lunch during your orientation."

"Nice to see you again," Mordecai smiles. He enjoyed their lunch. She had plenty of stories, and struck Mordecai has the sort of person to always look at the bright side of things.

"Like wise," the text-to-speech prompts.

"So, this meeting's purpose is to familiarize you with 6420 and the team. After the meeting, we hope to have enough time to give you a quick tour of where we keep the kits. And as stated in the email, you'll be touring the location of SCP-6420-1 itself tomorrow," Leah fiddles with her laptop as she prepares a slideshow.

------
++ 21:02

@@ @@

[[div class="document"]]
[[div class="script"]]

[[>]]
[[size 75%]]
I-1-2
[[/size]]
[[/>]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
CR0W
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
So, there's a new weed shop that opened in Caseville, and they're in competition with this other store.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div clas="action"]]
(CR0W PACES.)
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
CR0W (CON'T)
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
The weed shop summons a demon to drive them out of town
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
FIFE
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
It's a bit farfetched, like why weed store? Wouldn't like, a new age shop or apothecary be better for demon summoning?
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
RUFF
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
We could also just do something cliche. "Thing what compels you", have an antique item inspire some town rando to start a cult.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="action"]]
(RUFF LOOKS UP from his book.)
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
FIFE
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="action"]]
(FIFE LAUGHS.)
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
CR0W
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="action"]]
(CR0W STOPS PACING and CROSSES his arms.)
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="dtext"]]
This is flimsy and cliche. Out of all people to suggest this, why?
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
RUFF
[[/div]]


[[div class="dtext"]]
Well, the premise is; cheesy, straightforward, to the point. Basically, it's a structure for us to use to get back into the habit of writing.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
FIFE
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Who is the rando, who are our heroes?
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
RUFF
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Hmm, our heroes can be investigators a la //Twin Peaks//-- our antagonist could be overtaking officials of the town and it all comes to a climax at a fishing festival.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
STACCATO
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
When are the best times to fish in Lake Huron?
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[/div]]
[[/div]]

@@ @@

Mordecai stands up from his laptop and paces around the dining room table. He thought about fishing season. When was it? 

His thoughts eventually drifted to the events earlier in the day. While touring the containment for SCP-6420-3, Macky had a few new stories to tell that weren't in the initial dossier. 

When Auxiliary Research Facility-19 first encountered SCP-6420, they tried to rehabilitate Macky instead of attempting to cure her. It was only after the removal of the uterus et al, that Macky was able to gain sapience and autonomy again. The small facility keeps a few baby spider-rabbits in containment, but acquired from the location itself. Instead of Macky.

Mordecai shakes his head trying to get rid of the intrusive thoughts, "When is the best time to fish in Lake Huron?" he mumbles to himself. Hal snoozes on the couch, her ears perking slightly every now and then. Mordecai paces into the kitchen; the oven reads 09:42 (PM), regardless, he starts half a pot of coffee. He pulls out his phone and searches 'When is the best time to fish in Lake Huron?'

The search query included a link from the state's website. "So it depends on //what// is being fished? 'Smallmouth bass, walley' is best for July... ice fishing for yellow perch in January might make for a more interesting story..." the nutty smell of coffee fills the kitchen. Hal stirs from her sleep, and hops over to Mordecai.

"Or maybe-- since the events take place around the partial solar eclipse... uh... March, April? Salmon! Salmon season lines up about right for the emergence of the Rising Eclipse!"

Hal cocks her head to the side in confusion. Standing up on her hind legs, she bobs her head toward the clock on the oven.

"I know, I know, it's getting late. I'll go to bed before two in the mornin'..."

Hal settles back down and unblinkingly, peers at Mordecai. The coffee finishes, and he sits back down to continue writing.

@@ @@

[[div class="document"]]
[[div class="script"]]

[[>]]
[[size 75%]]
I-1-3
[[/size]]
[[/>]]


[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
BLUES
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Late March and early April seems to be a time to start a fishing festival.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="action"]]
(BLUES TURNS their attention toward the group.)
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
STACCATO
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
What's The Silver Twilight's chapter doin' though? What's their motivation?
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="action"]]
(STACCATO LEANS upright on the sofa and begins TYPING on a word processor.)
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
FIFE
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Turning people into fish people!
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
RUFF
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
I thought we agreed we wouldn't lift //The Shadow over Innsmouth//?
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="action"]]
(RUFF PUTS his book down.)
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
STACCATO
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Ruff, you literally suggested jewelry as "spooky thing what compels you", that's directly riffing off of //The Shadow over Innsmouth//.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
RUFF
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Fair enough.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="action"]]
(RUFF SHRUGS.)
[[/div]]

------
[[>]]
[[size 75%]]
I-1-4
[[/size]]
[[/>]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
BLUES
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
I suggest it's just to summon the demon. The head cultist claims they'd have domain over the demon, but in reality they don't.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
FIFE
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Can the demon turn people into monsters?
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="action"]]
(FIFE ADJUSTS her position on the sofa.)
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
RUFF
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Not fish people.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
STACCATO
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Not fish people.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="action"]]
(STACCATO STOPS TYPING.)
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
BLUES
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Demons in the shape of fish people.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
STACCATO
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Gawd, OK, whatever.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="action"]]
(STACCATO CONTINUES TYPING.)
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
BLUES
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Our investigator character can get caught in the crossfire with the primary demon in the final showdown, and suffer a partial transformation?
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
RUFF
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Why, what's your justification for this?
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
BLUES
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Well, without danger, without the sense of //having something to lose//, there's no story worth telling.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[/div]]
[[/div]]
@@ @@

Hal hops slowly back to the couch and Mordecai slurps his coffee.

@@ @@
[[div class="document"]]
[[div class="script"]]

[[>]]
[[size 75%]]
I-1-5
[[/size]]
[[/>]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
RUFF
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Investigator duo is in Caseville following the trail of disappearances. It's getting closer to fishing festival, or salmon season, as well as the approaching partial solar eclipse.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
BLUES
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
--on the morning of March 30th 2021.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
RUFF
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
This is a big event that the Rising Eclipse cult plans on taking over the town-- see also; summoning the demon.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
BLUES
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
So, investigators 1 and 2 are there like four days beforehand, and are there to stop the summoning.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
STACCATO
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Who are our characters?
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
BLUES
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
What do you mean?
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
STACCATO
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Who is the cult leader? Who are investigators 1 and 2? What naming scheme do we use??
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[/div]]
[[/div]]

@@ @@

Mordecai takes a deep breath in and puts on a playlist. He needs to delve deep into his thoughts. As the music washes over him, he enters into himself. Hal watches as Mordecai turns slightly transparent.


##gold|He could see the incorporeal creatures commenting on the writing.##

##gold|Four fae folk and a Nephilim, sat in a darkened study hall. Bookshelves and doors lined the walls. The center of the room littered with sofas and coffee tables. In the back of the Hall was a little raised stage and a red curtain.##

##gold|"Possibly something ecological or astronomical," Blues stated as it paced behind a sofa.##

##gold|Typing away as before, Staccato replied, "Why astronomical?"##

##gold|"We already have a space theme going with the eclipse," Blues said flatly.##

##gold|"I rather like the ecological idea though. I'm thinking the names like, 'Agent Savannah Steppe' and 'Agent Taiga Montana'," Fife excitedly gave the duo her feedback.##

##gold|Staccato pinched the bridge of his nose, "Just remember, these are cop characters and therefore not cool. Do something similar in style to //Twin Peaks, Max Payne, Artemis Fowl// or like //Colombo// or something."##

##gold|"Who the hell is Diane..." mumbled Blues at the mention of //Twin Peaks//, as it slouched off to fix itself coffee.##

##gold|"Wait a minute, 'Taiga', 'Savannah'," Staccato paused in his typing, "these are characters we've had before?" he asked.##

##gold|"Fuck it," Blues mumbled as it poured a cup.##

##gold|Fife laughed, "Recycle, renew, and reinvigorate!"##

##gold|cr0w stopped pacing and asked, "Perform **necrowmancy** on 'Taiga' and 'Savannah' eh?"##

##gold|Fife turned toward the apparition, "Hell yea!"##

##gold|Staccato huffed, "Excellent idea. Great cool. Wonderful, ignore what I said then..."##

##gold|Fife cheered, "NECROWMANCY!"##

##gold|"Consider the deed done," stated cr0w.##

From outside, Hal thumps. Mordecai quickly turns opaque, and jumps in his seat. Anxiously, he glances at the clock, //12:29 (AM)//.

He stands up, and paces. 

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He blinks, and quickly checks the clock again; //01:01 (AM)//.

"What the hell," Mordecai mumbles as he turns his attention back to Hal. Sitting alert, the rabbit glares at him.

"Wow, yea. Uh, how long have you been sitting there watching?"

She bobs her head up and down in the direction of the oven.

"The entire time huh?" Mordecai sighs, "OK, I'll go to bed now," he opens the freezer and takes out a cannabis edible. A fruit gummy in the shape of grapes. He shuffles to bed and whispers to Hal, "Goodnight, bunny."

------
++ May 2nd 2023, 06:25

After five alarms, Mordecai sluggishly rolls out of bed. 

//06:25// glares the phone's clock in twenty-four hour time. Grumbling, he attempts to stretch.

"Fuck being awake," he grumbles silently to himself.

His dreams had been lurid, lucid and labile, but he had successfully consumed enough weed for him to not fully recall. He would rather not remember his dreams. Rather, he'd like to sleep and actually rest. Slouching over the counter, and waiting for the coffee to brew, the oven rudely reminds Mordecai that he had fifty minutes.

Angry buzzing comes from the bedroom. Stumbling, he goes to it and retrieves his phone. 

A new email from Leah. Doesn't she ever sleep?

[[div class="blockquote"]]

**To:** Researcher Mordecai Ryder
**From:** Head Researcher Leah Królik
**Subject:** Journal Excerpts
**Date:** 2023/05/02
**Time:** 06:42
------

Good morning Mordecai,

Sorry for the late reply. I meant to get these documents out to you sooner, but I got caught up with other work.

Head Researcher Leah Królik,
Department of Research, ARF-19

##cyan|[6420digitized_journals_1.pdf]##
##cyan|[6420digitized_journals_2.pdf]##

[[/div]]

Mordecai sighs, he would look at these when he was in his office. He had little time left; he places his phone in his back pocket and starts to get dressed.

------
++ 08:11

Late, Mordecai enters his office, closes his door and takes a seat. Opening his emails, he reads:

[[div class="blockquote"]]

++ 6420digitized_journals_1.pdf

**09/03/20**

Today Tal and I went to pick up the rabbits. Xe suggested we get the rabbits to keep us company during covid. We decided to name the two girls, Grace and Trinity. Their previous owners hadn't spayed them yet so I've set up a vet appointment for the 21st.

**15/03/20**

The state issued a "shelter-at-home" order and for all non-essential businesses to close. Grace and Trinity's vet appointment is canceled. I hope their previous owners' sexed them correctly. Tal re-sexed the rabbits and as far as Tal can tell, both rabbits have vulva.

**23/03/20**

Grace has been acting suspicious lately. She won't let either of us pick her up and she's started nesting. I remember seeing Trinity and Grace humping a few days ago, but that's typical rabbit behaviour regardless of rabbit sex. Could this be a false pregnancy?

**01/04/20**

It's not a false pregnancy. Happy April Fool's to us…

 
[extraneous journal entries removed]
 

**08/06/20**

Grace wrecked my office door trying to get to Trinity. The hinges are smashed and the door won't close properly. We fear another litter may be coming. We have our hands full enough. Please don't let her be pregnant.

**12/06/20**

Trinity has started to nest.

**21/06/20**

Trinity has had a litter (how did she also have a litter?) and Tal and I haven't found anyone to adopt the rabbits we have.

Damhán[[footnote]]A mutual friend of Tal and Isa in the organic gardening community.[[/footnote]] came by today with empty gallon bins for us to store our rabbit poo. Something felt off when they came over. I can't place my finger on what.

We hope we can donate this poo. It's a shame to put it to waste.

[[/div]]

[[div class="blockquote"]]

++ 6420digitized_journals_2.pdf

**12/07/20**

We woke up one morning to a cloud of flies in the utility room where we keep the empty bins. I double checked the bins and found that Damhán had left standing water in them.

 
[extraneous journal entries removed]
 

**08/09/20**

Over the last few months, we've tried to store some of the poo outside near the forest and some sealed under the utility boards. We've tried keeping the rabbits sexed and apart from each other. But no matter how hard we've tried they keep multiplying. The fly problem is starting to get out of hand.

Tal pointed out yesterday that trees sprout from the poo in the house.

**18/09/20**

The tree sprouts have grown tremendously. Tal and I have been trying to cut down them down but day after day more trees crop up. The flies have gotten so bad I feel like I'm losing my sanity. Tal stated that the fly problem is of biblical proportion… and xe is a theologian.

**08/11/20**

We woke up to a loud crashing sound. The trees have taken over the house and Tal and I don't know what to do. What do we do? How did they grow that fast?? WHAT DO WE DO?

**12/11/20**

[written in a different hand] Isa has come down with some sort of illness. They woke up after sleeping for a day, complaining of lightheaded-ness. On the back of their neck is a large red scab. We're trapped in the house by trees or I'd take them to hospital.

[illegible]

[written in prior hand as before] I don't know what happened. I don't know how to write this.

[no date given, there are tear stains present all over the entry]

[written in prior hand as before][…]fellt something bite m e last night i woke up an d checked myself inn the mirror— there's a large spider b ite on th e back of myy neck[…]

[[/div]]

Taking in a deep breath, he looks up at the ceiling. Blank expression on his face, his mind spirals inward.

##gold|"OK, I think I'm gonna have to prepare for this visit," said Blues pinching the bridge of its snout.##

Mordecai huffs, and closes the laptop. He stands up, switches his office door sign to "QUIET: THAUMATURGY IN PROGRESS", and locks the door. He closes his eyes and imagines Hal. After a few breaths, Mordecai strides to his desk, opened a drawer and begins to prepare a mini-altar.

##gold|"Hal, I need you here Hal,"## whispers Mordecai to an empty room as he sets up the thaumaturgy work space. Hal appears as Mordecai goes to his bookshelf, "Good morning Hal, we have a problem," states Mordecai occupied with the books. 

He grabs a printed copy of the Torah, and a copy of Psalms. Thumbing through both books, he finds the passages he wants and bookmarks them.

"So to catch you up to speed Hal," Mordecai says as he sits down in his chair to rest for a moment, "SCP-6420-1 is a house I'll be visiting today that seems to have been cursed, or hexed. The rabbits at this location are hostile, and have overcome the thaumaturgy of two other theologies already."

Hal bobs her head up in down in apparent acknowledgement.

"I reckon, because both the 'Shema' used by the prior residents, and Macky's 'Hail Mary', weren't focused or even the appropriate prayers for the situation, that the prayers broke when interacting with the thaumaturgic flow of-- whatever the hell this curse is," he takes a moment to slurp coffee. 

From his notes he read, "//'Tal stated that the fly problem is of biblical proportion… and xe is a theologian.'// Tal is one of the prior residents of the house, and clearly xe were referencing the Plagues. However, since there is some heavy shenanigans at play here-- I'm going to use passages specific for this uh, hex or curse," he continues to read his notes, "'//##gold|Exodus 12:13##, and ##gold|Psalms 7:2-3## and ##gold|91:1-4##//, as basis for a protection charm."

Hal sits upright lifting her chin. Mordecai continues, "And this is where I need you. I need you to be our last line of defense. I'll program you into the charm," Hal bobs her head in agreement.

Mordecai finishes his coffee, stands up and turns down the lights. Whispering under his breath, he approaches the gold colored candle and lights both it and incense. His whispers turn to chants as he opens his notebook, the printed Torah, and Psalms. He carefully copies down the needed passages in both English and Ceremonial Hebrew. He strikes out any mentions of the name of ##gold|G-d## while copying. His intent was to ##gold|burn## the charms after the visit.

------
++ 15:26

An overcast day, white rabbits hop around the grass near the house. Mordecai and Królik step out of the car.

Cradling his head, Mordecai states, "Wow, I can feel the thinness," he uses the car door for support, "I was not prepared for this."

"What is? Are you alright?" concerned, Królik asks.

"Just, the reality here is thin. It's a bit dizzying. I'll be alright in a moment, I have to get my bearings," he takes a deep breath in, "It's like being on a boat at sea."

After a few moments pause, Mordecai centers himself and him and Królik approach the house.

Crossing the threshold, Mordecai shivers. Królik gives Mordecai another concerned look. Mordecai shakes his head, "I'll be alright. Show me the kitchen."

------

"So, you're sure y'all searched thoroughly?" Mordecai asks as he starts to open random pantry doors and cupboards.

"Totally," said Królik as he adjusts the neck brace he wore to avoid getting infected. Mordecai has no brace, and does not care. His """charms""" are enough.

Mordecai goes into the utility room from the kitchen and begins to root around. After several minutes of struggling and cursing, Mordecai closes his eyes and centralises his focus. In his ##gold|thoughtspace##, him and Blues "swapped" points of view, ##gold|Mordecai opens his eyes and sees thin, jagged strands of golden light in the dark. His eyes follow the threads to a location on the utility room floor. He blinks.## "Swapping" again, Mordecai goes to the spot and dusts off the top of a trap door.

He tries lifting the latch. Rusted. He whispers, ##gold|"Break."##. The lock breaks, and he swings the trapdoor open. Out rushes a cloud of little black flies. Both investigators yell in surprise. After the cloud disperses, Mordecai checks the hiding spot. Four large, one gallon buckets sit covered in rabbit poo.

"Eureka!" exclaims Mordecai.

"Well, I'll be-- we didn't search as well as we thought."

"I don't blame you really, this place is creepy."

//Thump!//

Mordecai and Królik look over their shoulders. Standing between them and the kitchen exit is a horde of rabbits.

"For the love of God, not again," Królik motions toward his service weapon.

"No," snaps Mordecai, "We got this."

He closes his eyes, and sees Hal, ##gold|"We need you Hal."## Mordecai opens his eyes and watches as a giant Hal, three-times the size of a normal Hal, manifests in front of him and Królik. Hal shimmers with ethereal silver mist. The horde of rabbits hop away in fright.

"Excellent Hal," states Mordecai.

Hal honks loudly, and startles Królik and Mordecai.

"Alright, alright, alright, I feel we've overstayed our welcome," Mordecai nervously says to Królik.

"I have no complaints. I'll grab the buckets," Królik says. Him and Mordecai follow Hal out of the house as she continues fending off rabbits until the trio reach the car. Mordecai scratches Hal's snout, "Gut kinigl," he whispers to her, as she dissipates into mist.

------
++ 17:34

"On further analysis, 'Super Scrumptious, and Pleasant Produce' went out of business in 2019," types Macky into her keyboard, "Damhán must've worked at 'SSAPP' before they went out of business."

"What about this though," Mordecai points at the bottom of the bucket. In each bucket is a crude, squiggle in sharpie.

Macky types, "LOL I was hoping you could tell me. It looks like something you might know."

Mordecai rubs his chin, "Well, it sorta looks like a sigil. Maybe I can deconstruct it?"

"Who could've put it there?" asks Macky.

"From reading the files, I reckon Damhán. After all, these were their buckets that they donated. Could be a runaway fertility spell, since the buckets were meant for the local gardens."

------
++ 22:56

Mordecai throws his keys on the counter, and shrugs off his spring jacket. Hal hops up to him in greeting.

"You did a fantastic job today sweetie," he bends down and pets her. She lays flat like a pancake, "Ahhh, flat bun," after a few moments of cuddle time, Mordecai takes a deep breath in, "OK Hal, we think we know how we're going to end the new piece."

@@ @@

[[div class="document"]]
[[div class="script"]]

[[>]]
[[size 75%]]
I-1-6
[[/size]]
[[/>]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
BLUES
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
Taiga can destroy the item in question, thus destroying the demon's anchor or tie to the world.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
STACCATO
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
That would trap her in a half-human, half-demon, form though wouldn't it? Or would it change her back?
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="dialog"]]
[[div class="char"]]
BLUES
[[/div]]

[[div class="dtext"]]
I repeat; without sacrifice, without loss, there is no struggle-- there is no story. Let's try it.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

@@ @@

[[=]]
(BLACKOUT)
(END OF SCENE)
(END OF ACT)
(END)
[[/=]]

[[/div]]
[[/div]]

@@ @@

------
++ June 10th 2023, 09:17

[[div class="blockquote"]]
##green|**cr0w**## 06/10/2023 (Sunday) 09:17:05 #87659162
------

howdy yall, got back into writing again. made a new thing im excited to share; "The Rising Eclipse" is threaded below, enjoy!

[[/div]]
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 [[footnoteblock]]
[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box |author=fairydoctor]]
[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]

The Rising Eclipse

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