Ask-dr-thompson-scpfoundation - The Method To My Madness Is Madness Itself

"I too find that to be very fitting." She smiles gently. "Would you prefer I call you by that name, or would you rather be called scp-049?"

"Greetings and salutations, Doctor."

Hello, scp-049. How are you doing today?

What pronouns do we use for you?

Well, i'm glad you asked! I go by she/her!

((OOC: Both me and Dr. Thompson go by she/her))

pickles

Pickles.

"I am currently studying the fact that there are literally thousands of universes all on one planet. It all depends on what universe you interact with based on the angle the light hits your eye. In order to see colors and objects, light bounces off the object and hits your eye, reflecting colour which allows us to identify shape as well. However different universes have different angles at which the light can hit your eye, thus making it possible to live in different realities on the same planet. Imagine that we are three dimensional, but in other planes of existence, there are things that are four or five, even six dimensional. This means its physically impossible for us to see them."

*she looks around before giving a final nod of approval on her 'speech'*

682: Everyone here will die.

999: Of fun :)

Help me get custody of my 10-year-old younger sister, who is currently with a ped0phile. My full story. 

If possible don’t ignore this, 1 reblog can save her.

This is not for you.

This is a post aimed at me and other people who constantly fall into guilt spirals over all the things they can’t do, and feel they should somehow magically be able to do anyway.

For me, and for the others, this is a gentle reminder:

- Posts asking for monetary donations are speaking to people who have money. Not your broke ass, still worrying how to buy food next month.

- Posts asking you to care about [extreme injustice of the day] are speaking to people who have energy to care. Not you, hanging onto your sanity by the fingernails. 

And, most importantly: posts telling you that you are horrible/cheap/awful/rude/unworthy/unlikable if you don’t pay/reblog/signal boost/care? Those posts can fucking die in a fire.

TL;DR: Posts asking for shit you are not physically or mentally able to give? 

THOSE POSTS ARE NOT FOR YOU. 

Happy PRIDE month everyone!!!

She placed her hands over her mouth to hush her panting, and tries to steady her breathing. She quickly runs to the door of the room she currently is in and tries to lock the door. After succeeding, she quickly turns to the side of the door frame and puts her back against the wall, allowing herself to fall to the ground.

"Hello, you are a man of science, correct? " It's appears to be a breached D class.

"Well, more like a lady of science but yes...why, what's it to you..." She looks at him suspiciously.

My Discovery.

Has anyone else really truly wondered who they actually are? I've always wondered if I was even human, since I was a child. I've known since i was a child that while my whole family was Christian, I was Pagan. Nothing has changed since then, not even after me uncovering the existence of SCP-343.

I am still a Pagan, however I now truly question my humanity. The other day, while I was setting up some protection wards, I was also thinking on a topic I had heard of: Blood Magic. I had heard that even some of the most powerful and experienced Pagans were hesitant towards it.

I wanted to try it, I wanted to prove that I too, was powerful. This was my biggest mistake, and yet my greatest discovery. Moments later, I had everything set up at my altar. I prayed to Hades, my patron God, to protect me, and to help me in this ritual. I did everything i was instructed to do. I created a small cut on my hand, and let the blood drip into the spiced and herbed water. I proceeded to drink said liquid, until there was no more liquid to drink.

I felt no different. The instructions had specifically quoted to call on a very powerful word the moment I was in any danger after the ritual was performed. I thought nothing of this.

The next day at work with the foundation, there was a breach. It was very minor, as a D-class had somehow escaped and was deemed unsafe due to acquiring a gun.

While I was finding a safe place to hide, I, of course, had the luck of running into said D-class. He was only a few feet away from me, when he held up the gun at me with a psychotic, shit eating grin. I outstretched my hands in a moment of panic, for any form of defense. I remembered my previous instructions, and called upon the ancient word.

My palms felt warm, and almost burning. A beam of light appeared from my hands, aimed directly at the D-class. Within seconds and a short ear piercing screech, the D-class was nothing more than a pile of ashes. After a few discussions with some higher ups, and some speculation, I was deemed a Type Blue.

My name is Dr. Thompson, I work for the SCP Foundation, and I still don't think I'm entirely human.