Psych Dr. ‘Portrait’

~ revived, but not the same. ~ SCP character account ~ "i'm sorry for what i had to do."

[paintingthepast]

The End of the Beginning

TRIGGER WARNING! DETAILED CHARACTER DEATH IN WRITING. MENTIONS OF SUICIDE.

Eyes on the road, Vane. Eyes on the road. Just… don’t think about it. Don’t think about her. It’s over now. All of it. It’s all over. You ruined it all. You’re going to get her killed. You’re going to get yourself killed. No, no, she’s going to get you killed. This is her fault. She— what did she do? Why are you blaming her? Blame yourself. You left. You quit. This is all your fault. You left her to die. She’s going to die and it’s your fault.

But she’s —

what even WAS I to her? A friend? Coworker? Enemy? No, surely not an enemy. She didn’t hate me, did she? I really, really hope she didn’t hate me.

Eyes on the road. DON’T crash. She’ll hate you if you do.

She hates you anyway.

Do it.

Before the foundation does it for you.

Do it, Olivia.

Just kill yourself already.

No, no, nonononono, nonono, go back tomorrow, go back, go back and apologise, GO BACK. SURVIVE. Get back to her, you IDIOT.

Turn around now. Turn around. There’s a bend in the road here, turn around. TURN. 

———————

It burns.

It hurts like nothing else has ever hurt before.

I feel sick.

I open my eyes.

I —

No I don’t. Not both of them, at least.

I can’t open my eye.

Am I crying?

There’s something wet on my face. I must be crying.

Where even am I..?

I’m alive, surely.

I raise my arms, testing.

Something snaps.

I look down.

My right hand. It’s… wrong. Something’s wrong, very wrong. It’s all bent and mangled… There’s something falling out? So much blood. 

That’s what was on my face.

So I wasn’t crying!

I laugh.

For some reason I laugh.

Or, I try to laugh.

Some kind of.. hideous gargling sound comes out of my mouth. Something warm and red pours from my throat, my tongue, my nose and it hurts.

Everything hurts.

I’m tired.

I just want to… take five minutes, maybe ten, and just sleep away all the pain. Then after that I can save myself and… and save her. Yeah, that would be nice. But… isn’t that — doesn’t that mean I’m gonna die? I don’t want to die. Do I?

I always thought death would be warm, welcome. I thought I’d want it. I thought I’d die on my own terms.

Maybe this is my own terms. Maybe I’m happy dying like this.

But I’ve got people to get back to. People at home who would wake up to an empty bed. I need to be there. I’m going to say goodbye.

With my working hand, I open the car door.

I go to get up.

Nothing happens.

Nothing except searing agony. My legs. Why won’t they move? Please. Move. I need to get up. I need to get out.

I try again.

Nothing.

What do I DO? How can I go on like this?

I look to see what’s wrong.

It’s worse than I thought.

The tree I’d rammed into, something had loosened and fallen on me. Shattered, or.. crushed? the… whatever it’s called… and I think it took my legs with it. 

If I just stayed here and waited, would anyone come?

Would they think I could be saved?

Probably not, with the state I’m in… how even am I alive? Must be, like.. God or something. Haha.. what a funny thought. God. Hey, God. If you are real, then… I don’t know. Save her, or something. Save me? Maybe?…

…

I’m an idiot, aren’t I?

Nobody’s coming.

Nobody is going to save me.

So I have to save myself, right?

I’ll save myself.

Watch me.

RIIIIIPPPPPPPPPP.

The sound that leaves me is unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. Some guttural and mangled kind of screaming, sobbing noise, a perfect soundtrack to what’s happening. A brief glimpse into the indescribable and incomparable experience of tearing muscle and tendon, of snapping bones and cords, of ripping from your being your own support, your anchor, your limbs. Of feeling yourself pull apart, becoming less than you were before.

Now I’m crying.

You would be too, wouldn’t you?

…She’d probably hate to see you like this.

She’d blame herself, wouldn’t she?

As she should. It’s all her fault.

Why should you go to get her?

What?

What am I… am I — alive?

What?

I can’t…

It’s all such a blur.

I get out of the car.

At least, I try to.

I’ve said that already, haven’t I?

Haha. Does it matter?

I think I’m gonna die.

My hands still work, right?

I attempt to grab the ground infront of me.

My hand hangs limply, and then after a second, with a noise like velcro, falls.

…

I’ve still got one hand, right?

But it won’t work…

There’s nothing wrong with it. It should move.

I just can’t seem to… gather the energy to move.

I’ve fought enough, right?

I’m allowed to give up.

…

So I give up.

[ihearthalflife]

are marrow’s hallucinations personalised or generalised? I assume they’re different for everyone, but is there any reason behind who gets what or is it just the first thing you think of?

Yes, they are personalized!

There are certain effects that are common among everyone (whispers, distortion of the space around them, etc.) but a lot of it is usually personalized!

For example, when Squires saw her eyes, he hallucinated her being hanged (how he died in his original timeline), a snake with many eyes (Clef symbolism), heard gunshots, etc.

This isn’t a conscious decision Marrow makes of course — 1. she doesn’t know all that about him, and 2. she can’t see or perceive what her eyes do to people. Even in a mirror. But yes, it’s personal!

[paintingthepast]

that is so so cool

[paintingthepast]

@talkingwithsquires gotta be the most hateful person(character) on ALL of scpblr

[paintingthepast]

How well would your muses (characters) do at the Hatsune Miku High Range Test?

in life portrait could reach HiHiHiB and was so fucking mad about it, now probably like, HiHiD, still pretty good but worse

solstice can do it, fucking sweat. shapeshifts their vocal cords for that shit like a TRYHARD

[meltingsunlight]

[They enter the psychologist’s empty, dark office with a smile a little more disturbed than usual, stepping quietly, furtive, like an animal halfway up the food chain who’s only just remembered it’s still prey to someone. He draws from the air around her a can of beer that would almost look untouched if not for the small pinprick hole in its side, covered up with transparent tape.]

[Walking up to the desk, they place down the can and pull from the air a piece of paper. Written on it in the neat, surgical handwriting he assumes a researcher would write in is ‘birthday party leftovers xoxo, sorry you weren’t there, we forgot to invite you’. She puts the sheet next to the can and then departs in silence.]

[paintingthepast]

(Returning to their office, tired out and buzzing with leftover happiness, Portrait glances at their desk, and then looks again. Something’s been left for them - they walk up to check what it is, taken a little aback by the item itself. And then they read the note, and that fragile peace they’d found shatters.)

(Leftovers. Not even something that had been saved. There was a scratchy quality to the handwriting, as if it had been quickly scribbled down with just enough care to stay legible and look vaguely neat. They can’t even think of who left it at all. Who would go to that effort? Lament?? No, Lament thinks you’re weird, remember? Nobody really comes to mind. Maddie? Oh, don’t even ENTERTAIN that thought. You know damn well it wasn’t her. Maybe it was Solstice? He’s never been the type to party, but maybe he picked something up for them. That’s a sweet thought.)

(It’s not even like they MIND missing the party, they’d been out all day after all, the part that stung was the wording. ‘we forgot to invite you’, it’s just a gut punch all around. Whatever. They don’t even like the taste of beer that much, but it’d be more rude to leave it.)

(They scrunch the note up and throw it into a corner, taking the can and sitting down on one of the seats usually reserved for patients, cracking it open and immediately being assaulted by the fizz. Exactly what they needed. The first sip ticks them off to something being wrong. It’s more sweet than usual. They check the label for anything that might explain the strange flavour. Well, it’s got fruit on it…)

(They don’t notice the hole in its base.)

[paintingthepast]

Don’t FUCKING do this to me. the actual lyric says “for how do you learn” instead of “for id never learned” AND THATS AORSE. ITS WORSE. ITS SO MCUCHWORSE

fuuckkkkkkkk

[paintingthepast]

listening to mitski as one does and jus got hit with the absolute gut punch of “i need somebody to remember my name after all that i can do for them is done” #LITERALLYPORTRAIT BECAUSE THEYRE IN THIS FUCKING DISGUSTING CYCLE OF FINDING PEOPLE AT THEIR WORST, TRYING THEIR BEST TO HELP THRM AND THEN GETTING ABANDONED

[quixotic-dragon]

Personal gold stars

[paintingthepast]

^_^

[ozempicofficial]

[paintingthepast]

The arcade game I’d assign you would be Portraits 1983!

https://youtu.be/TjLYlj_2NGQ?is=_Qc-0sSmwZedQeLH

From @p0lybiv5

VERY fitting and it looks cool, thanks for the ask!!

[paintingthepast]

fun little oc facts!!:

Lily Wood had NO empathy whatsoever, and had been assumed to have “something wrong with her, probably a narcissist or just autistic or something.” due to her unstable self image and conflicting grandiose behaviour and horribly low self esteem. She always seemed to be top of her class and she never cared, but when she was even slightly worse than usual she would break down. None of these things were ever elaborated on due to her age, she was deemed “too young”, having been twelve when she ‘vanished’ and was presumed dead, and her parents were such nice people that nobody suspected a thing.

Portrait (in life) had a very high CRV and a resistance to certain amnestics. This is one of the reasons they were hired - they had originally wanted to help children, but their expertise in trauma care and the fact they couldn’t simply be amnesticised and released meant they were effectively forced to find work at the Foundation.

^ They also have a seemingly endless want for validation and attention. More than anything, they want to be loved unconditionally and permanently. They are willing to latch onto anyone who will give them that love. Even knowing a person’s bad intentions, they still won’t leave, because they’d rather be hurt than left. They like to tell people they enjoy it. They’re lying to themselves.

Solstice remembers very little about Lily’s life and will frequently get things horribly wrong while trying to recall her existence, dates and events are almost never correct. He sees himself as ‘the better version of her’, so much so that they chose to completely separate the two names and identities.

Portrait reminds Solstice of Lily.

Mortis reminds Portrait of someone.

[paintingthepast]

i jump and giggle like a child every time i am given an ask i love being asked i love interaction

[simoninthewater]

Honestly same

[paintingthepast]

people are just so cool i love people

[paintingthepast]

If portrait were ALIVE and non anomalous in any wayx what Jon would Portrait have?

what? do you mean job?

if you mean job they would still choose to be a psychologist probably, likely helping neurodivergent/SENS people, or victims of severe trauma. they’d definitely still want to help people though

thank you for the ask!!! ^_^

[paintingthepast]

i jump and giggle like a child every time i am given an ask i love being asked i love interaction

[vexwaves]

DR SQUIRES IS PREGNANT

[applehatchet]

Aawwwee!!! Congrats Jonny! I can’ts wait!! I’m goings to be the bests auncle in the Foundation!! <3

[talkingwithsquires]

I'm not even going to entertain this.

[simoninthewater]

"I was trying to tell Convex you weren't. uneventful conversation...."

[agentlament]

[Standing with a "good luck mama" balloon and a stroller in hand]

He's... not?

[simoninthewater]

"Convex tried telling me at one point Im the dad literally IMPOSSIBLE. and its just not a Mr. Squires thing to have happened. I'd put more money on him tripping and falling on his face and getting licked by 999 than him being pregnant."

[agentlament]

[Drops the strolled and kicks it, followed by a scream of pain]

[applehatchet]

Oh! Oh! Are you alrights, Agent? I knows some first aids if you’re injured!

[agentlament]

...ahahah... no thanks...

[applehatchet]

Are you sure? I thinks you might’ve bruiseds at least! Maybes a lil scrape? Hm?

[agentlament]

Hey, Apple, I think Jon is pregnant. You should go check on him!

[paintingthepast]

fym on kirk’s soul

[agentlament]

I swear to kirk bro

[paintingthepast]

swear on freedom ✌️😛😛

[vexwaves]

DR SQUIRES IS PREGNANT

[applehatchet]

Aawwwee!!! Congrats Jonny! I can’ts wait!! I’m goings to be the bests auncle in the Foundation!! <3

[talkingwithsquires]

I'm not even going to entertain this.

[simoninthewater]

"I was trying to tell Convex you weren't. uneventful conversation...."

[agentlament]

[Standing with a "good luck mama" balloon and a stroller in hand]

He's... not?

[simoninthewater]

"Convex tried telling me at one point Im the dad literally IMPOSSIBLE. and its just not a Mr. Squires thing to have happened. I'd put more money on him tripping and falling on his face and getting licked by 999 than him being pregnant."

[agentlament]

[Drops the strolled and kicks it, followed by a scream of pain]

[applehatchet]

Oh! Oh! Are you alrights, Agent? I knows some first aids if you’re injured!

[agentlament]

...ahahah... no thanks...

[applehatchet]

Are you sure? I thinks you might’ve bruiseds at least! Maybes a lil scrape? Hm?

[agentlament]

Hey, Apple, I think Jon is pregnant. You should go check on him!

[paintingthepast]

fym on kirk’s soul

[p0lybiv5]

Like/reblog this for Polybius to assign your character an arcade game she thinks matches their personality!