Aw yeah here we fuckin go
This is honestly one of my favorite things that I’ve ever written. 2020′s Halloween holiday special was a six-part novella in the SCP universe starring my Sarkist and Mekhanite OCs pulling off a heist together.
The nameless thing in the tank was hungry, and the priestess would feed her.
Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate; she did have a name—her name was Lavenia, and she was a sweetheart—but she didn’t have a species. The priestess had grown Lavenia herself, starting from her own DNA but with permutations and alterations as the spirit moved her. After about two years, Lavenia was now the size of a human heart, a tightly-wound clue of concentrated darkness with writhing tendrils, a beak like a cephalopod, and a single, luminous eye in the center of her shifting, tinkting form.
The priestess dropped a goldfish into the aquarium and watched with pride as Lavenia grasped it with one of her tendrils and drew it into her beak, radiating gratitude. After the goldfish disappeared within her ineffable form, she floated back and forth in the water, her eye fluttering, and the priestess cooed, “Did you like that, sweetie?”
Lavenia hadn’t quite developed full sapience, but she gravitated towards the priestess’s warm tone and radiated psychic waves of affection.
“That’s my girl. Do you know what day it is, Lavenia?”
“It’s your birthday! You’re two years old!”
Lavenia didn’t yet understand time any more than she understood human speech, but she could sense that her mother was happy about something, and that made her happy. The priestess cut open another bait bag and dropped a few more goldfish into the aquarium, and the abomination chased them through the water like a cat chasing mice, radiating glee as she did.
“Eat up, baby,” the priestess cooed. “You’re a growing girl, just like Mommy.”
Satisfied, the priestess flopped back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the temple’s heartbeat through the walls, letting it sync with her own as she relaxed. She closed her eyes and drifted off into a sort of half-slumber, letting her awareness sync with the temple’s as well, and felt a sublime sense of peace. She’d never felt at home in her body, but she could always feel at home in, well, her home.
She was shocked out of her communion by the sound of a fist rapping against bone and a man’s voice calling out, “Katya? Are you busy?”
“Oh my fucking God, dude,” she growled, “what now?”
“I have something I must speak with you about. May I come in?”
“It’s important, Katya. Busy with what?”
There was an audible sigh from without, and the voice said, “Volutaar, open the door.”
“Aw, dude, don’t be like that.”
“Open the door, Volutaar.”
She rolled her eyes, “Yes, Karcist. Right away, Karcist. How high, Karcist?”
