OCās Creator: @luciavis, Iām a very neurodivergent duck, so please forgive me if I miss context clues.
This blog for the most part would be PG-13/YA (AGES 13~18-ish). Cuts, CWs and Tumblrās Content Label System will be used aggressively if mature, 18+ or NSFW topics are tackled. You can follow this blog if youāre a minor, but keep in mind that I (the mod) am not a minor. Donāt DM trying to be my friend, you can send asks as this blog is open to all ages.
Adult behave š«µ, Minors behave š«µ.
This blog will be a formalised blog spot for Issac, art, short stories, and answers to ask will be here. Anything that my brain decides to hyperfixates on.
Isaque Cross was born on July 19, 1988, in Willenhall, Coventry, England, to MarĆa Cross, a documented immigrant from the region of Sonora, Mexico. Early biographical information regarding Cross's childhood is incomplete. Further investigation into Cross's early adolescence is required.
Available legal documentation indicates that MarĆa Cross entered into a legal union with A.R.G.U.S. Inc., Creator āāāāāāāā, on February 14, 1993.
Employment Record:
Isaque Cross's earliest known employment record in the anomalous world was in 2013 as a hired A.R.G.U.S. Inc1 paramilitary asset for the Global Occult Coalition. Operational documents within Cross's service to the G.O.C. designate him with the callsign "Weasel".
> Additional Files Available:
> [1] Incident Involvement Log
> [2] Medical Records
> Select a file to continue or enter [EXIT] to terminate the session.
> [2]
> Accessing Directory...
> Access Isaque Cross's Medical Records.
> Fetching Isaque Cross's Medical Records...
FILE NUMBER: [ #1897698267]
CLEARANCE LEVEL: [ Level 2 ]
LAST UPDATED: [ 01/03/2023 ]
STATUS: [ ACTIVE]
PERSONNEL INFORMATION
Blood Type: O-
Anomalous Genetic Markers: [ No ]
Thaumaturgical Affinity: [ Yes ]
PHYSICAL HEALTH STATUS
Height: [ 163 cm / 5'3 ft]
Weight: [ 65 kg / 150 lbs ]
Identifying Marks:
ā¢ Healed penetrating wound with residual structural deformities and discolouration affecting the right deltoid and pectoralis major muscles.
ā¢ Black Glyph tattoo on the left posterior forearm.
Allergies: [ None ]
Pre-existing Conditions:
Innate Thaumaturgical Sensitivity:
ā¢ Subject exhibits a fundamental ability to perceive and manipulate Elan-Vital Energy (EVE) and blood primarily haemoglobin based blood. The subject self-reports no formal training in thaumaturgy.
ā¢ Migraines, exacerbated by usage of thaumaturgical abilities. As well as the conventional triggers, such as stress, anxiety, altered sleep patterns and dietary factors.
*pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stickpokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stickpokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stickpokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick pokes you with a stick*
Issac stood by the window of his quarters at Site-127, mug raised to his lips, he seems to be appreciating the lovely view outside his living quarters at Site-127.
For once things were peaceful.
Issac takes a deep breath in before glancing down at the crab sitting atop the countertop, āSebbyā he said softly, āWeāre going to have a lovely da-ā
A stick pokes Issac on the corner of his mouth.
āPft-ā the tea sloshed back into the mug.
Issac blinked. āWot why-ā
Another stick pokes him on his cheek this time.
He slowly lowered his mug. āI-okay who is-ā Issac glanced around the room.
Nobody.
The stick pokes him again. āWho the bloodly hell is poking me?!ā
The prods him again, āStop.ā
The crab chitters excitedly.
Issac glances down, his furrowed brows soften almost immediately.
āā¦Right yes.ā he lets out a brief exhale, before saying softly āā¦Look can someone please stop p-ā
A poke hits Issac on the back of his neck at the base of his skull.
He froze. Every muscle in his shoulders locked.
Slowly, very slowly, his head turned.
A faint twitch flickered across his jaw.
Another poke lower at his back of his neck now.
āWho?ā
Poke.
Issacās hand snapped back and caught the stick.
The veins on Issacās hand tightened as his grip tightened on the stick.
The wooden rod bent slightly.
āWHO IS POKING ME?!ā
The camera zoomed out.
Issacās eyes followed the stick. And the stick disappeared behind the camera.
The stick squirmed in Issacās hands.
Issac briefly made eye-contact with a person behind the camera. A muffled voice came behind it and said:
I have no idea what āTommorrowā but Issac would probably die from either not feeding himself properly or listening to his intrusive thoughts of being petty and spiteful.
He may be a very combat-trained man but he also a very stupid man at times.
Just reread the āYesterdayā article and apparently itās an article tied to the Blackmoon and apparently Clef kills a bunch of high ranking Foundation staff. Iām assuming āTomorrowā follows this same ācanonā I donāt know the SCP wikiās difficult to follow in terms of lore sometimes. Someone please update me if my understanding is incorrect.
But correcting my earlier post. Issac would not last long. Heāll probably be able to do some damage against Clef and last to the halfway make and probably go down swinging.
I have no idea what āTommorrowā but Issac would probably die from either not feeding himself properly or listening to his intrusive thoughts of being petty and spiteful.
He may be a very combat-trained man but he also a very stupid man at times.
You hear a soft thud as you open your door into a darkened dimly lit hallway.
On the floor, just beyond the doorway, a tan-skinned man lies face down, completely still. His posture is limp in a way that suggests he didnāt so much accidentally fall, more so simplyā¦ran out of fuel.
On the back of his head, a small spotted crab clinging to his curls, occasionally tugging at a strand of dark hair like itās mildly annoyed by the situation. It tilts up at you, appearing to chittering in a bright, almost pleased way, completely unbothered at the fact that its owner is currently unconscious and sprawled limply across the floor.
If anything, it looks like itās waiting for instructions, commands orā¦for its owner to wake up.
- @issac-cross
(The woman looked at the man that was pitifully sprawled out in front her door. her forest green eyes widen, with concern as, Sheās slowly crouched down to take a pulseā¦ after a moment of confirming that this was not corpse in front of her she looked over to the crab, nestled between his dark curls -ā¦ the crab looked harmless enoughā¦ or at least thatās what she hoped.)
ļæ¼OK letās get you up and on a bedā¦
(the woman quietly said as she picked easily picked up the researcher, while she tried her best not to disturb the crap too much-ā¦ the researcher was surprisingly lighter than she expected, but then again sheās was used to carrying heavy things. After a moment, she placed the researcher down on her oversized bedā¦.which was much wider and taller than the woman for some reason.)
And THIS is exactly why I tell you researchers to eat drink-ā¦and preferably get some sleepā¦..so shit like this doesnāt happenā¦*sigh* I really hope they donāt make me fill out paperwork because of this
(the woman murdered underneath her breath her voice sounding tired and annoyed with undertones of concern)
As you haul the unconscious man onto the bed and roll him onto his back, an orange keycard slips falls out.
Issac Cross
Clearance Level: 3
Personnel Class: C
Department: Alchemy
The photograph confirms the identity. The man appears to be somewhere in his late thirties, though the sleep deprivation has added a couple of years onto this features. Dark eyebags hang beneath his eyes, and there is a fatigued quality to his face that suggests sleep and proper meals have both been neglected for far too long.
A thin silver chain rests against the hollow of his throat, glinting faintly beneath the room's light.
Perched atop his curls, the spotted crab finally abandons its vantage point. It slides down the side of his head and onto his shoulder, tiny legs padding softly against fabric. Reaching the chain, it pauses.
The creature twists its eyestalks towards Aurora.
Then towards the unconscious man.
A mischievous chortle escapes it. One pincher slowly rises. And with all the audacity of a tiny creature that has done this before, it snaps shut on the soft flesh of Issac's neck.
The man inhales sharply, and mumbles āChrist Sebs, give it a rest.ā before rolling away onto his side from the crab.
(The woman picked up the ID slip looking over it before putting it in her jacket pocket for the time being. when she looks back up to see the mischievous crab messing with Isaac, she couldnāt help but quietly chuckled to herself. After a moment she crouches down to get closer look at the mischievous little crab.)
Well Hello there arenāt you just a cutie? ļæ¼
(the agent voice was quiet and sweet-ā¦ aurora had a soft spot for small animals like crabs, rats, and centipedes. Probably the reason why the peculiarity of the situation didnāt even cross her mind.)
Know Letās try and let Dr. Isaac sleep a little bit. Iām sure we can find something to do In the meantimeā¦. you like books?
(With a soft inviting smile on her face She extended the, palmed of her hand to the tiny crab-ā¦ as if it was an offer to hop on. She didnāt know why she was talking to the crab, as if it could understand herā¦It was just an animal after all, but then again she didnāt quite know she like talked to her to pet rats all the time, and that you seem to understand her.)
[the room itself, was dimly lit by soft purple fairy light strong across the ceiling that almost resembled little stars. The walls of the room were mostly covered in bookshelves except for a drawer here and there and a small area behind her desk with a two steer high cage with a variety of brightly colored things hanging across the inside of it. When looking back at the book shows each one was filled to the brim with books that felt ancientā¦ there is a variety of genres to them too-.. from anything to old folk tales, to botany, and even some about Cryptozoology.]
The crab chitters a bit, before its eyestalks tilt down to Auroraās hand then up to her face. It stares there for a long moment, as though its single overworked braincell is attempting to process a thought.
A pincher opens, and snap towards Auroraās ha-
A hand shoots out and encloses around the crabās shell, āSebastianā¦ā Issac mumbles tiredly, āā¦what did we say about attacking staff?ā Issacās eyelids remain closed.
The crab chitters petulantly as it clamps a pincher around Issacās fingers in protest. Issac doesnāt react.
With a tired sigh, Issac rolls over onto his side turning away from Aurora. One arm tucks underneath his neck at the base of head and the other keeps a loose hold on the offending crustacean.
The very moment Issac rolls onto his side, the crab wriggles free from his fingers and crawls up onto the side of his arm.
The crab pauses. Its eye-stalks twists to Aurora then to the sliver chain pressed across Issacās neck.
Back to Aurora again.
A beat of stillness.
The crab then scuttles down Issacās shoulder and clamps two pinchers around the sliver chain
Before giving it a tug.
Issacās hand moves immediately, closing over the chain before his eyes even open.
āNo.ā
Sebastian tugs harder.
āFor Chrissake Sebastianā¦ā Issacās grip tightens, his hand does not yield.
The crab chitters sharply in annoyance, then after a long moment of contemplation it flattens like a crab pancake next to the sliver chain with both pinchers hooked around it.
The crustacean lets out a contented clicking sound.
After a moment, Issacās body looses as if the stress, fatigue and worry almost washes away from him. Heās breathing still tinged with exhaustion gradually settles into a steadier rhythm.
(The agent let out a deep chuckle, sing the pitiful sight of this researcher in front of her and this adorable mischievous crap that refused to let him sleep peacefully. It was amusing to watch but after a moment she went back to her desk. Sitting down and picking up a nearby book the title of it being ā history of grimoires and ruins for dummiesā it was the newest book in her collection, and she was eager to read it, especially since she hadnāt had much knowledge of the subject in the first place.)
So youāre awake enough to stop a crab, but not awake enough to wonder where youāre at?
(she softly, joke to herself as she flipped through the pages of her book, not expecting the researcher on her bed to hear her)
āHmā¦?ā Issac mumbles, ā-Iām awake enough for the important things.ā
Issac turns onto his back.
Sebastian immediately crawls up the side of his shoulder and slips beneath the collar of Issacās shirt.
After a brief struggle a faint metallic clink follows. The crab settles, a small satisfied chitter emits from Sebastian as the crab-shaped lump flattens.
āYou took my ID card earlier,ā he muttered, his eyes still closed. āYouāve beenā¦ā Issac pauses mid-sentence as if attention shifting as if filtering out something, āā¦sitting there for a while now.ā
(the woman quietly shifted her gaze from the book to look at Isaac. The womenās eyes shined with curiosity curiosity, as smile creeping on her face, as if she was getting some type of amusement from this.)
Well, a perceptive one arenāt you? youāre welcome to have a key card back I was planning to give it back to you when you woke up anyways.
(The woman spoke in a soft mannered voice that seem to carry no malice or deceit with it.)
Yes, Iāve been sitting here for a while. Just reading in my room after all Iām off duty so I donāt got anything better to doā¦.ļæ¼
(the woman looked back to her book flipping to the next page)
OH, and when you say itās shifted down words, Iām assuming youāre talking about how I put your key card in my pocket orā¦ am I wrong?
āNo.ā One of Issacās eyes cracks opens, āWhy would I be talking about the card?ā
Issacās brows raise slightly.
Issacās other eye opens and his gazes drifts around the room for a moment, before he looks vaguely dissatisfied with whatever information his eyes are providing them about the room.
Both eyes close again, āNice fairy lights.ā Issac pauses again, āThey give one of their own an office.ā
āHow exceptionally generous of th-ā his hand disappears beneath the collar of his jumper.
A muffled pleased clicking sound answers him.
Issac pauses, his expression relaxes. āMhmm, this is what I get for surviving the Global Occult Coalition.ā
āA table within a lab wedged between two acrylic partitions.ā
CWs: Fictional Bigotry, Fantasy Genetic Discrimination/Classism, Slurs (In-Universe and Fictional), Dehumanisation. YOU ARE WARNED.
Been reading this: āhttps://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/goc-supplemental-humanoid-guideā article lately and thinking how genetic traits like Type-Blues, Type-Greens and various other different colour types relationship is to each other in the anomalous ābehind-the-veilā world. This also sort stemmed from my interpretations of the various different headcanons that people have of some of the more famous author avatars.
Youāre more than welcome to take this world building on Issacās blog and adapt and remix it for your own blog. Just credit my main blog @luciavis if youāre adapting this. I would also recommend reading the source material, because itās good context and itās always fun to explore aspects of the wikiās lore.
God speed to whoever finds this blog in the future. Because some world building lore for this blog is very disorganised.
Context Information:
In this blogās canon, the O5s are sorta hypocrites. Most interpretations of the SCP Wiki/canon have the O5s extend their own lives via anomalous means. This canonās O5s do the same thing. I do not know everything about the O5ās lore so bare with me.
These O5s are hypocrites in such a way where the Foundationās āSecure Contain and Protectā motto only extends to baseline humans. I.E. Humans without any anomalous traits. Some of the older O5s view the anomalies even the sapient humanoid anomalies as āmonstersā and does sometimes āotheringā of anomalous individuals. Because their ultimate goal is to āprotect humanityā and well if youāre anomalous you donāt exactly fit into their definition of āhumanā.
However, the Foundation has the Ethics Committee which sort act as the āmoral compassā to the O5s and are āHey O5s you probably shouldnāt discriminate against these subset of people.ā Hence the whole āRed Right Handā and āLawās Left Handā MTFs, these governing bodies are sort of on the same power level.
For the below categories, Iām only talking about humanoid/human-looking sapient anomalies, that either work for the Foundation or are actively contained by the Foundation.
Index:
Baseline Humans: People without any anomalous traits or abilities, these include extra eyes or non-human features or anomalous abilities.
Elan-Vital Energy (EVE):
Magic soul juice energy in this canon, every living organism has it. The more sapient you are the more āEVEā you have. Pretty standard magic system stuff. Itās basically the āsoul/mana/life-forceā of a person. Think mysterious extra electrical signals like those found in the brain waves.
Type-Blues:
As the wiki states Type-Blues are classified into three classes:
Scholars: People who can learn magic by studying it.
Wielders: People who make deals with an entity or higher power to get abilities. In this case of this canon, Elan-Vital Energy (EVE).
Gifted: People who are born with their magical abilities. These people have an inherent base larger EVE pool than normal baseline humans.
Because all baseline humans have the capacity to do magic or learn Thaumatology, the study of magic and often fall into either the Scholar or Wielder classes.
Blues tend to fit into the anomalous society a bit better than their counterparts excluding the very rare Reds more on that later. However the O5s control the spread of magic knowledge to specific departments and or powerful families such as the Shaw family.
But thereās classism surrounding the above 3 tiers of Type-Blues, think of the Scholars are the Elite Upper Class, the Wielders as the Contract Class, and the Gifted as the Working Class.
Each āclassā have slurs for each other classes. For example:
Wielders are called: āLeechesā due to the fact that they āleechā off of the bigger EVE pool of the entity that they make a deal with.
Gifted are called: āSparkiesā due the fact that Gifted Blues are born with a bigger āSparkā or initial EVE pool than the baseline humans.
Type-Greens:
Type-Green are anomalous individuals who often can manipulate reality or are either Demi-gods or gods of their own. Think your Dr. Clefs and Meris and Lillys. Thereās probably some overlap between Greens and Bluesā¦but these are not hard or fast categories.
Type-greens in general have a higher genetic predisposition towards developing physical non-human traits like additional eyes, horns or gills. You donāt have to be a Type-Green to have physical non-human traits and vice versa. One doesnāt cause the other, theyāre correlated but no causation.
Slurs for Type-Greens are:
āEgosā due to the fact Child-Gods, see linked article, having an increased chance of developing megalomania.
āAberlings/Ab-lingsā for Greens who develop physical non-human traits.
Type Reds:
Entities or people that can regenerate. In this canon Type-Reds who are born with the ability to regenerate loss tissue are ridiculously rare and uncommon. Reds only occur if someone artificially creates one, or something occurs to a person for them to become a Red.
So most regenerative Shaw/Bright re-writes would lie in this category.
Type Yellows:
Your shapeshifters or any character that can take on animal-like traits, think either shapeshifting into a cat or taking on partial cat ears or tail traits. Iām not going to explain how their abilities work in detail read the above source material.
About 85% of sapient humanoid anomalous individuals are Modelled Polymorphs, and 5% are Controlled Polymorphs.
Slurs for Yellows are:
āBeastsā for Modelled Polymorphs.
āGuppiesā for Controlled Polymorphs.
So yeah, thanks for reading this far. Iām open to constructive criticism, if this tone-deaf please advise me, if this triggers anyoneā¦I gave you content warnings.
"Issac, you've got something on your coat." A researcher pointed out.
"Hm?" Issac reached behind himself. His fingers found the edge of a sticker.
Issac sighed, "Not again."
With a sharp tug, he peeled away a corner of yellow from the rectangular four-striped sticker stuck to the centre of his back. The paper tore, a second attempt only succeeded in removing a black corner.
"You know," the researcher said, "those colours suit you."
Issac slipped off his lab coat and held it up to inspect the damage.
A yellow, white, purple, and black striped rectangle remained stubbornly attached to the fabric. Next to it was a faded discolouration where another A5 sticker had once been removed, leaving behind frayed threads and stubborn adhesive.
"Excellent." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I only just managed to remove the pansexual one."
His thumb caught on another corner. "And now I have to get this thing-"
The sentence died halfway through, as he spotted someone out of the corner of his eye.
"Oh. Dr Breen." Issac lowered the coat, "Been meaning to give this to you."
Without further explanation, he reached into his pocket and produced a small circular plastic badge in pink, yellow, and blue. He tossed it across the hallway towards you.
"Since it's Pride Month,ā Issac nodded towards the badge, "I was told that you'd appreciate it."
His attention immediately returned to the sticker, giving it another irritated tug.
[š+1x Pansexual Badge has been added to your inventory.š]
- @issac-cross
Elias smiled brightly, immediately pinning it to his shirt.
āHold up I think-ā Issac tears a section of the 4-striped rectangle off, āYes, that would be very nice.ā
He hands his lab coat to Dr. Breen.
The garment itself is a standard-issue Foundation lab coat, its surface seemed to have stained splotches of various colours and as well as next to the 4-striped flag, a faded discolouration sits this appears to be where the A5 pansexual flag sticker once was.
There also appears to be an insignia of the Alchemy Department has been embroidered across the back in neat stitching. Decorating the lower right tail of the coat are three concentric arches of flowers, alternating between red roses and small yellow blossoms. The design appears to have been drawn on by hand rather than professionally applied.
Clipped to the breast pocket by a retractable asexual ID reel hangs an orange Foundation keycard bearing Issac's credentials.
āI keep on just finding-ā Issacās eyes glanced towards the flag, ā-I assume another Pride flag manifesting around my desk somewhere.ā
āHmm yesā¦most of the stains are from various lab chemicals,ā Issacās gaze trails down to the flowers, ā-The flowers are from Meri-ā,
The name slips out before he corrects himself,
ā-166, I left my lab coat in her containment cell a couple of months back.ā
As you work at the sticker attached to the lab coat, the fabric feels noticeably tougher than it should.
Despite the various stains and obvious wear, the fabric shows surprisingly little damage. No burn holes or frayed acid patches, where chemicals shouldāve eaten through.
The coat itself appears to be standard Foundation issue, except for the band of yellow stitching sown neatly along the collar. This stitching doesnāt look decorative more-so institutional, although it had been added during the manufacturing process than by the researcher standing beside you.
āAhā¦regeneration issues I suppose?ā Issacās eyes darted to the amulet fused to Eliasā chest before back to the lab coat. āā¦The immortal in my universe has the same issue.ā
Issac pauses studying Eliasā expression for a moment, āYou wear the same sorrowful expression they have after a host transfer.ā
"No need to call her by her designation. You can use real names with me. I ain't going to tall on ya, kiddo. Hell, I tend to refer to anomalies with their name myself. My Foundation is more lax regarding this, especially with the amount of anomalous folks that work in the Foundation of my world."
He let put a sigh, wistful now despite the smile still on his lips.
"And... yeah, you could say that. I keep my body, yes, but it's... hard to die and revive again and again, believe me. Immortality... it's the furthest thing from a blessing."
He tapped the amulet before going back to work on the lab coat.
"Especially if you don't have any choice in the matter. Believe me, being able to keep your body doesn't mean squat. I still feel alienated from my own body despite keeping it."
āAhā¦force of habit offical protocols dictate designations rather than names.ā
Issac made a vague motion with one hand.
āPedantics.ā he almost scoffed.
When Elias mentioned alienation Issacās expression stilled and then drifted somewhere distant.
āBeing valued for your utility tends to do that.ā Issac frowned slightly.
āPeople adapt.ā he said flatly, āThey learn from a young age whatās expected of them, what actions are worth value. What their purpose is.ā
Issacās jaw tightened. āFor some people, thatās decided early.ā
A small crab emerged from his collar and settled onto his shoulder. It chittered.
Issac blinked, the stress on his expression immediately eased.
āIn the case of my Foundation, the phenomenon of alienation isnāt uncommon amongst staff.ā
Issacās hand absentmindedly reached to scratch the crabās shell.
āYou know from what Iāve heard from my immortal, anomalous folks were rarely trusted with authority.ā
āI suppose thatās improved now due to the ethics committee.ā
A pause.
Issac lets out a brief snort, āSupposed thatās why they donāt allow me to run experiments.ā he crosses his arms, āā¦that and Iāve had a senior alchemist call my alchemy experiments an affront to the scientific method.ā
[As you work the lab coat, you find that the sticker is somehow fused aggressively to the fabric of the lab coat. For some reason itās not coming off.]
Headcanons about Isaac? No i don't mean canon because it's your baby. I mean headcanons of your OC. I know you have them. We all have them. Speak. Speak Lucia speak.
Wellā¦
Issacās horrific at self-care, like he shaves and showers perfectly fine. Just not sleep or food. His facial age is dependant on how much sleep or food heās gotten in the past couple of days.
Issac used to wash his own face with hand soap and water, well Agatha gave him shit for that. So he started to use a face wash which sort of nerfs his face. He wakes up with perfect skin. His face takes remarkably well to skincare and well he de-ages several years if he uses skin care.
He prefers long sleeves due to ahā¦a lot of scars on his forearmsā¦from his earlier mercenary days and amongst other thingsā¦
He has reduced sensitivity to light touches up to his elbows also drastically temperature changes. So he can accidentally burn his own hands if heā not aware.
Issac has extremely flowy cursive almost calligraphic handwriting that drifts when heās not actively focusing on where his hands are.
Issacās very particular about textures and fabrics that go near his neck because thatās where all the magic information flows to and where he also feels peopleās heartbeats. He also can distinguish between different textures with his hands and compensates by just looking very hard.
Issac can still technically bleed to death due to the fact that his blood manipulation is a conscious effort. Anticoagulants also affect him.
Was bit of a gremlin in his G.O.C. Days.
His callsign in the G.O.C. was weasel both as an insult and also because he sorta fell into a weasel enclosure on his first day at the G.O.C.
He knows people see him like a wet cat, Iāve also sorta learned into this. And he would rather have people assume that heās a wet cat and underestimate him than overestimate him.
You can glitch his nervous system/brain by just touching the base of his head, sorta like a kitten scuff response. Heās not going to let you get close enough to do that.
Since his neck is a sensitive area for him, when sleeping in the same room with other people he usually sleeps either back on the bed or against a wall because he doesnāt trust people. That or if he turns his back to you he covers his neck with his hand. The only people in the Foundation he doesnāt do this with is Clef and Rights.
His resting face is just: š most of his expressions excluding shame/embarrassment, being flustered, or unfiltered blinding rage, him begin drunk is just š but the lips moving slightly up and down. Heās not super expressive like Dr. Gears, he can be expressive he just doesnāt care enough to be expressive.
Heās faster and stronger than most people think. You canāt catch him.
He loves head pats and neck pats. Not from strangers tho.
You hear a soft thud as you open your door into a darkened dimly lit hallway.
On the floor, just beyond the doorway, a tan-skinned man lies face down, completely still. His posture is limp in a way that suggests he didnāt so much accidentally fall, more so simplyā¦ran out of fuel.
On the back of his head, a small spotted crab clinging to his curls, occasionally tugging at a strand of dark hair like itās mildly annoyed by the situation. It tilts up at you, appearing to chittering in a bright, almost pleased way, completely unbothered at the fact that its owner is currently unconscious and sprawled limply across the floor.
If anything, it looks like itās waiting for instructions, commands orā¦for its owner to wake up.
- @issac-cross
(The woman looked at the man that was pitifully sprawled out in front her door. her forest green eyes widen, with concern as, Sheās slowly crouched down to take a pulseā¦ after a moment of confirming that this was not corpse in front of her she looked over to the crab, nestled between his dark curls -ā¦ the crab looked harmless enoughā¦ or at least thatās what she hoped.)
ļæ¼OK letās get you up and on a bedā¦
(the woman quietly said as she picked easily picked up the researcher, while she tried her best not to disturb the crap too much-ā¦ the researcher was surprisingly lighter than she expected, but then again sheās was used to carrying heavy things. After a moment, she placed the researcher down on her oversized bedā¦.which was much wider and taller than the woman for some reason.)
And THIS is exactly why I tell you researchers to eat drink-ā¦and preferably get some sleepā¦..so shit like this doesnāt happenā¦*sigh* I really hope they donāt make me fill out paperwork because of this
(the woman murdered underneath her breath her voice sounding tired and annoyed with undertones of concern)
As you haul the unconscious man onto the bed and roll him onto his back, an orange keycard slips falls out.
Issac Cross
Clearance Level: 3
Personnel Class: C
Department: Alchemy
The photograph confirms the identity. The man appears to be somewhere in his late thirties, though the sleep deprivation has added a couple of years onto this features. Dark eyebags hang beneath his eyes, and there is a fatigued quality to his face that suggests sleep and proper meals have both been neglected for far too long.
A thin silver chain rests against the hollow of his throat, glinting faintly beneath the room's light.
Perched atop his curls, the spotted crab finally abandons its vantage point. It slides down the side of his head and onto his shoulder, tiny legs padding softly against fabric. Reaching the chain, it pauses.
The creature twists its eyestalks towards Aurora.
Then towards the unconscious man.
A mischievous chortle escapes it. One pincher slowly rises. And with all the audacity of a tiny creature that has done this before, it snaps shut on the soft flesh of Issac's neck.
The man inhales sharply, and mumbles āChrist Sebs, give it a rest.ā before rolling away onto his side from the crab.
(The woman picked up the ID slip looking over it before putting it in her jacket pocket for the time being. when she looks back up to see the mischievous crab messing with Isaac, she couldnāt help but quietly chuckled to herself. After a moment she crouches down to get closer look at the mischievous little crab.)
Well Hello there arenāt you just a cutie? ļæ¼
(the agent voice was quiet and sweet-ā¦ aurora had a soft spot for small animals like crabs, rats, and centipedes. Probably the reason why the peculiarity of the situation didnāt even cross her mind.)
Know Letās try and let Dr. Isaac sleep a little bit. Iām sure we can find something to do In the meantimeā¦. you like books?
(With a soft inviting smile on her face She extended the, palmed of her hand to the tiny crab-ā¦ as if it was an offer to hop on. She didnāt know why she was talking to the crab, as if it could understand herā¦It was just an animal after all, but then again she didnāt quite know she like talked to her to pet rats all the time, and that you seem to understand her.)
[the room itself, was dimly lit by soft purple fairy light strong across the ceiling that almost resembled little stars. The walls of the room were mostly covered in bookshelves except for a drawer here and there and a small area behind her desk with a two steer high cage with a variety of brightly colored things hanging across the inside of it. When looking back at the book shows each one was filled to the brim with books that felt ancientā¦ there is a variety of genres to them too-.. from anything to old folk tales, to botany, and even some about Cryptozoology.]
The crab chitters a bit, before its eyestalks tilt down to Auroraās hand then up to her face. It stares there for a long moment, as though its single overworked braincell is attempting to process a thought.
A pincher opens, and snap towards Auroraās ha-
A hand shoots out and encloses around the crabās shell, āSebastianā¦ā Issac mumbles tiredly, āā¦what did we say about attacking staff?ā Issacās eyelids remain closed.
The crab chitters petulantly as it clamps a pincher around Issacās fingers in protest. Issac doesnāt react.
With a tired sigh, Issac rolls over onto his side turning away from Aurora. One arm tucks underneath his neck at the base of head and the other keeps a loose hold on the offending crustacean.
The very moment Issac rolls onto his side, the crab wriggles free from his fingers and crawls up onto the side of his arm.
The crab pauses. Its eye-stalks twists to Aurora then to the sliver chain pressed across Issacās neck.
Back to Aurora again.
A beat of stillness.
The crab then scuttles down Issacās shoulder and clamps two pinchers around the sliver chain
Before giving it a tug.
Issacās hand moves immediately, closing over the chain before his eyes even open.
āNo.ā
Sebastian tugs harder.
āFor Chrissake Sebastianā¦ā Issacās grip tightens, his hand does not yield.
The crab chitters sharply in annoyance, then after a long moment of contemplation it flattens like a crab pancake next to the sliver chain with both pinchers hooked around it.
The crustacean lets out a contented clicking sound.
After a moment, Issacās body looses as if the stress, fatigue and worry almost washes away from him. Heās breathing still tinged with exhaustion gradually settles into a steadier rhythm.
(The agent let out a deep chuckle, sing the pitiful sight of this researcher in front of her and this adorable mischievous crap that refused to let him sleep peacefully. It was amusing to watch but after a moment she went back to her desk. Sitting down and picking up a nearby book the title of it being ā history of grimoires and ruins for dummiesā it was the newest book in her collection, and she was eager to read it, especially since she hadnāt had much knowledge of the subject in the first place.)
So youāre awake enough to stop a crab, but not awake enough to wonder where youāre at?
(she softly, joke to herself as she flipped through the pages of her book, not expecting the researcher on her bed to hear her)
āHmā¦?ā Issac mumbles, ā-Iām awake enough for the important things.ā
Issac turns onto his back.
Sebastian immediately crawls up the side of his shoulder and slips beneath the collar of Issacās shirt.
After a brief struggle a faint metallic clink follows. The crab settles, a small satisfied chitter emits from Sebastian as the crab-shaped lump flattens.
āYou took my ID card earlier,ā he muttered, his eyes still closed. āYouāve beenā¦ā Issac pauses mid-sentence as if attention shifting as if filtering out something, āā¦sitting there for a while now.ā
"Issac, you've got something on your coat." A researcher pointed out.
"Hm?" Issac reached behind himself. His fingers found the edge of a sticker.
Issac sighed, "Not again."
With a sharp tug, he peeled away a corner of yellow from the rectangular four-striped sticker stuck to the centre of his back. The paper tore, a second attempt only succeeded in removing a black corner.
"You know," the researcher said, "those colours suit you."
Issac slipped off his lab coat and held it up to inspect the damage.
A yellow, white, purple, and black striped rectangle remained stubbornly attached to the fabric. Next to it was a faded discolouration where another A5 sticker had once been removed, leaving behind frayed threads and stubborn adhesive.
"Excellent." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I only just managed to remove the pansexual one."
His thumb caught on another corner. "And now I have to get this thing-"
The sentence died halfway through, as he spotted someone out of the corner of his eye.
"Oh. Dr Breen." Issac lowered the coat, "Been meaning to give this to you."
Without further explanation, he reached into his pocket and produced a small circular plastic badge in pink, yellow, and blue. He tossed it across the hallway towards you.
"Since it's Pride Month,ā Issac nodded towards the badge, "I was told that you'd appreciate it."
His attention immediately returned to the sticker, giving it another irritated tug.
[š+1x Pansexual Badge has been added to your inventory.š]
- @issac-cross
Elias smiled brightly, immediately pinning it to his shirt.
āHold up I think-ā Issac tears a section of the 4-striped rectangle off, āYes, that would be very nice.ā
He hands his lab coat to Dr. Breen.
The garment itself is a standard-issue Foundation lab coat, its surface seemed to have stained splotches of various colours and as well as next to the 4-striped flag, a faded discolouration sits this appears to be where the A5 pansexual flag sticker once was.
There also appears to be an insignia of the Alchemy Department has been embroidered across the back in neat stitching. Decorating the lower right tail of the coat are three concentric arches of flowers, alternating between red roses and small yellow blossoms. The design appears to have been drawn on by hand rather than professionally applied.
Clipped to the breast pocket by a retractable asexual ID reel hangs an orange Foundation keycard bearing Issac's credentials.
āI keep on just finding-ā Issacās eyes glanced towards the flag, ā-I assume another Pride flag manifesting around my desk somewhere.ā
āHmm yesā¦most of the stains are from various lab chemicals,ā Issacās gaze trails down to the flowers, ā-The flowers are from Meri-ā,
The name slips out before he corrects himself,
ā-166, I left my lab coat in her containment cell a couple of months back.ā
As you work at the sticker attached to the lab coat, the fabric feels noticeably tougher than it should.
Despite the various stains and obvious wear, the fabric shows surprisingly little damage. No burn holes or frayed acid patches, where chemicals shouldāve eaten through.
The coat itself appears to be standard Foundation issue, except for the band of yellow stitching sown neatly along the collar. This stitching doesnāt look decorative more-so institutional, although it had been added during the manufacturing process than by the researcher standing beside you.
āAhā¦regeneration issues I suppose?ā Issacās eyes darted to the amulet fused to Eliasā chest before back to the lab coat. āā¦The immortal in my universe has the same issue.ā
Issac pauses studying Eliasā expression for a moment, āYou wear the same sorrowful expression they have after a host transfer.ā
Hey heyā¦just a heads up to the 26 followers of this blog. Nothing in this blog is sacred lore that must not be touched.
If youāre interacting with Issac through posts/reblogs/RP threads feel free to poke at random suspicious long descriptions of items with suspiciously detailed descriptions. Ask questions, investigate, make observations, take this shit out of Issac. Step on my toes as a writer.
If the object is there and Iāve highlighted it multiple times poke on it. Iām basically acting as a soft DM for this blog.
The fun from the SCP wiki comes from the collaborative and remixing other peopleās works aspect. The SCP wiki exists in the first place because we adapt, remix, expand, build and contradict each otherās ideas.
The only thing that I wouldnāt say step on my toes with is actual stories tagged with ā#Short Storiesā or ā#OC writing.ā
The crab originally started out as something not to be taken seriouslyā¦and umā¦Issac has a pet crab now.
Think of the more famous author avatars like the MCU adapting Marvel characters sure itās still recognisably Clef, Shaw/Bright, Rights but filtered through the history and world building that I am actively building as time goes on.
Heck even grab and adapt/remix some of the ideas from this blog. I believe no idea is truly original.
You hear a soft thud as you open your door into a darkened dimly lit hallway.
On the floor, just beyond the doorway, a tan-skinned man lies face down, completely still. His posture is limp in a way that suggests he didnāt so much accidentally fall, more so simplyā¦ran out of fuel.
On the back of his head, a small spotted crab clinging to his curls, occasionally tugging at a strand of dark hair like itās mildly annoyed by the situation. It tilts up at you, appearing to chittering in a bright, almost pleased way, completely unbothered at the fact that its owner is currently unconscious and sprawled limply across the floor.
If anything, it looks like itās waiting for instructions, commands orā¦for its owner to wake up.
- @issac-cross
(The woman looked at the man that was pitifully sprawled out in front her door. her forest green eyes widen, with concern as, Sheās slowly crouched down to take a pulseā¦ after a moment of confirming that this was not corpse in front of her she looked over to the crab, nestled between his dark curls -ā¦ the crab looked harmless enoughā¦ or at least thatās what she hoped.)
ļæ¼OK letās get you up and on a bedā¦
(the woman quietly said as she picked easily picked up the researcher, while she tried her best not to disturb the crap too much-ā¦ the researcher was surprisingly lighter than she expected, but then again sheās was used to carrying heavy things. After a moment, she placed the researcher down on her oversized bedā¦.which was much wider and taller than the woman for some reason.)
And THIS is exactly why I tell you researchers to eat drink-ā¦and preferably get some sleepā¦..so shit like this doesnāt happenā¦*sigh* I really hope they donāt make me fill out paperwork because of this
(the woman murdered underneath her breath her voice sounding tired and annoyed with undertones of concern)
As you haul the unconscious man onto the bed and roll him onto his back, an orange keycard slips falls out.
Issac Cross
Clearance Level: 3
Personnel Class: C
Department: Alchemy
The photograph confirms the identity. The man appears to be somewhere in his late thirties, though the sleep deprivation has added a couple of years onto this features. Dark eyebags hang beneath his eyes, and there is a fatigued quality to his face that suggests sleep and proper meals have both been neglected for far too long.
A thin silver chain rests against the hollow of his throat, glinting faintly beneath the room's light.
Perched atop his curls, the spotted crab finally abandons its vantage point. It slides down the side of his head and onto his shoulder, tiny legs padding softly against fabric. Reaching the chain, it pauses.
The creature twists its eyestalks towards Aurora.
Then towards the unconscious man.
A mischievous chortle escapes it. One pincher slowly rises. And with all the audacity of a tiny creature that has done this before, it snaps shut on the soft flesh of Issac's neck.
The man inhales sharply, and mumbles āChrist Sebs, give it a rest.ā before rolling away onto his side from the crab.
(The woman picked up the ID slip looking over it before putting it in her jacket pocket for the time being. when she looks back up to see the mischievous crab messing with Isaac, she couldnāt help but quietly chuckled to herself. After a moment she crouches down to get closer look at the mischievous little crab.)
Well Hello there arenāt you just a cutie? ļæ¼
(the agent voice was quiet and sweet-ā¦ aurora had a soft spot for small animals like crabs, rats, and centipedes. Probably the reason why the peculiarity of the situation didnāt even cross her mind.)
Know Letās try and let Dr. Isaac sleep a little bit. Iām sure we can find something to do In the meantimeā¦. you like books?
(With a soft inviting smile on her face She extended the, palmed of her hand to the tiny crab-ā¦ as if it was an offer to hop on. She didnāt know why she was talking to the crab, as if it could understand herā¦It was just an animal after all, but then again she didnāt quite know she like talked to her to pet rats all the time, and that you seem to understand her.)
[the room itself, was dimly lit by soft purple fairy light strong across the ceiling that almost resembled little stars. The walls of the room were mostly covered in bookshelves except for a drawer here and there and a small area behind her desk with a two steer high cage with a variety of brightly colored things hanging across the inside of it. When looking back at the book shows each one was filled to the brim with books that felt ancientā¦ there is a variety of genres to them too-.. from anything to old folk tales, to botany, and even some about Cryptozoology.]
The crab chitters a bit, before its eyestalks tilt down to Auroraās hand then up to her face. It stares there for a long moment, as though its single overworked braincell is attempting to process a thought.
A pincher opens, and snap towards Auroraās ha-
A hand shoots out and encloses around the crabās shell, āSebastianā¦ā Issac mumbles tiredly, āā¦what did we say about attacking staff?ā Issacās eyelids remain closed.
The crab chitters petulantly as it clamps a pincher around Issacās fingers in protest. Issac doesnāt react.
With a tired sigh, Issac rolls over onto his side turning away from Aurora. One arm tucks underneath his neck at the base of head and the other keeps a loose hold on the offending crustacean.
The very moment Issac rolls onto his side, the crab wriggles free from his fingers and crawls up onto the side of his arm.
The crab pauses. Its eye-stalks twists to Aurora then to the sliver chain pressed across Issacās neck.
Back to Aurora again.
A beat of stillness.
The crab then scuttles down Issacās shoulder and clamps two pinchers around the sliver chain
Before giving it a tug.
Issacās hand moves immediately, closing over the chain before his eyes even open.
āNo.ā
Sebastian tugs harder.
āFor Chrissake Sebastianā¦ā Issacās grip tightens, his hand does not yield.
The crab chitters sharply in annoyance, then after a long moment of contemplation it flattens like a crab pancake next to the sliver chain with both pinchers hooked around it.
The crustacean lets out a contented clicking sound.
After a moment, Issacās body looses as if the stress, fatigue and worry almost washes away from him. Heās breathing still tinged with exhaustion gradually settles into a steadier rhythm.
Enjoy these low effort, kinda shitty drawings. Kinda drew Issacās face weirdly in the uncoloured drawing.
This is the good ending of Issacās future where he retires to a ranch or something with his beloved wife/partner/husband thing and his pet crab and raises 3 children.
Been trying to vary my different body types and trying to draw chubbier/chunker people. Been told that the coloured drawing of 53 Issac is very ahā¦male gazey not sure if this is a good or bad thing. Oh well enjoy.
Also cannot draw babiesā¦how do people draw babies? His skin tone is also kinda scuffed with the alcohol markersā¦I donāt have the correct shade for his skin.
Iād like to imagine heās gained a couple more pounds and is a lot more happier and comfortable in his own skin at this age.
The childās friend: āYour dad's fifty-three?! He looks like he's in his early forties.ā
āWait until he picks up that fallen-ā the child replied.
Issac bends over to pick up a pen from the floor. As he stood, both knees produced a series of sharp cracks that vaguely sounded like firecrackers, echoed through the room.
CRACK. POP. POP.
āHmm.ā He twisted his back. A loud KRRRK followed. āRight. Need to call my orthopedist.ā
The friend's smile faltered. āIs that normal?ā
āAccording to Dad,ā said the child, āno.ā
āAccording to my orthopaedist,ā Issac added, āalso no.ā
"Issac, you've got something on your coat." A researcher pointed out.
"Hm?" Issac reached behind himself. His fingers found the edge of a sticker.
Issac sighed, "Not again."
With a sharp tug, he peeled away a corner of yellow from the rectangular four-striped sticker stuck to the centre of his back. The paper tore, a second attempt only succeeded in removing a black corner.
"You know," the researcher said, "those colours suit you."
Issac slipped off his lab coat and held it up to inspect the damage.
A yellow, white, purple, and black striped rectangle remained stubbornly attached to the fabric. Next to it was a faded discolouration where another A5 sticker had once been removed, leaving behind frayed threads and stubborn adhesive.
"Excellent." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I only just managed to remove the pansexual one."
His thumb caught on another corner. "And now I have to get this thing-"
The sentence died halfway through, as he spotted someone out of the corner of his eye.
"Oh. Dr Breen." Issac lowered the coat, "Been meaning to give this to you."
Without further explanation, he reached into his pocket and produced a small circular plastic badge in pink, yellow, and blue. He tossed it across the hallway towards you.
"Since it's Pride Month,ā Issac nodded towards the badge, "I was told that you'd appreciate it."
His attention immediately returned to the sticker, giving it another irritated tug.
[š+1x Pansexual Badge has been added to your inventory.š]
- @issac-cross
Elias smiled brightly, immediately pinning it to his shirt.
āHold up I think-ā Issac tears a section of the 4-striped rectangle off, āYes, that would be very nice.ā
He hands his lab coat to Dr. Breen.
The garment itself is a standard-issue Foundation lab coat, its surface seemed to have stained splotches of various colours and as well as next to the 4-striped flag, a faded discolouration sits this appears to be where the A5 pansexual flag sticker once was.
There also appears to be an insignia of the Alchemy Department has been embroidered across the back in neat stitching. Decorating the lower right tail of the coat are three concentric arches of flowers, alternating between red roses and small yellow blossoms. The design appears to have been drawn on by hand rather than professionally applied.
Clipped to the breast pocket by a retractable asexual ID reel hangs an orange Foundation keycard bearing Issac's credentials.
āI keep on just finding-ā Issacās eyes glanced towards the flag, ā-I assume another Pride flag manifesting around my desk somewhere.ā
Since itās Pride month I thought I might as well drop some author head canonsā¦ideas I donāt know Issacās technically my son, my OC, heās also technically in the Creative Commons so technically anyoneās able to adapt/remix this character however they want. Keep in mind everything I say is up to reader interpretation and youāre more than welcome to interpret the following fun facts however you want.
Sexuality/Orientation:
For sexuality, Issacās is Asexual. On the ace-spectrum he ranges from anywhere from sex-averse to sex-indifferent, heās specifically not supposed to be sex-repulsed.
If you asked him:
āIssac do you have any special someoneā¦ā elbow nudge, āā¦that youāve got your eyes on?ā
Heāll most likely respond with just straight up a flat: āNo.ā
If then further pushed and asked:
āIf not women then, men? You strike me as the type of guy who likes both.ā
Heāll answer: āYes and no. They're all the same to me.ā Interpret this however you choose to.
Gender:
If he overheard some male/non-binary staff member saying: āYou know I never thought I fit into the binaries of male/femaleā¦I wouldnāt really mind if I was born a woman.ā
Issac would just shrug and go: āI really wouldnāt really care if I was born a woman at birth either.ā Clicks pen, āThe documentation would be annoying to change, suppose my risk of prostate cancer would be lowered.ā
If he also got hit by SCP-113, he would care about the fact that heās now a woman, heāll care more about the fact that the process in which SCP-113 transitions you hurts.
In short, heās not too attached to his own masculinity. Dude is extremely uncomfortable in feminine clothing due to the influence of his very traditional Anglican Grandmother in his childhood.
If you want specific labels for himā¦from the authorās head. Heās some form of ace pan-romantic and some flavour of nonbinary, not going to tell you whatā¦ĀÆ\_(ć)_/ĀÆ
