SCP-XXXX “Bartholemew”
ITEM #: SCP-XXXX “Bartholemew”
Object Class: Keter ▪️ Level: RESTRICTED
CONTAINMENT CLASS | DISRUPTION CLASS | RISK CLASS | NOTES |
---|---|---|---|
UNCONTAINABLE (Keter) | VLAM | DANGER | Chaotic, reality-bending entity discovered in VRChat group S.H.I.E.L.D. Station . |
Special Containment Procedures
SCP-XXXX (nicknamed “Bartholemew”) cannot be contained by conventional means. Like SCP-343, Bartholemew is voluntarily cooperative, but unlike 343 he is wildly unpredictable. Currently, Foundation policy is to minimize direct interference and to engage with the subject under strictly controlled conditions. If Bartholemew appears on Site property or in public, a designated observation team is deployed to monitor events and ensure bystanders are safely distanced. Under no circumstances should guards attempt physical restraint – personnel have reported a compulsion to socialize with Bartholemew, and any guards who try to leave their posts often inexplicably quit, citing phrases like “He needs the audience.”
A standard Sedation Protocol is maintained in the containment area: whenever Bartholemew’s reality-warping effects intensify (usually signaled by spontaneous flash mobs of dancing penguins or similar anomalies), staff may play recorded stand-up comedy or administer mild amnestics to stabilize mood.
Containment proceeds as follows:
- Observation Only: No physical barriers are used. Interactions are treated like high-risk therapy sessions. At least two staff members remain in the area to document changes and to record Bartholemew’s demands.
- Environmental Safeguards: The containment chamber is soundproofed and furnished with padded walls. A stockpile of sensory-neutral items (blankets, puzzles, non-electric toys) is kept on hand in case Bartholemew’s whims demand it.
- Access Control: All Foundation personnel below Level 2 are not explicitly barred from visiting SCP-XXXX, but visits are closely supervised. Any staff who experience extreme euphoria or confusion during a visit must undergo psychological evaluation immediately afterward.
- Trigger Management: Bartholemew’s reality shifts can be triggered by stress or boredom. On-duty staff carry “calibration kits” (e.g. joke books, whoopee cushions, small plush toys) to redirect Bartholemew’s attention if an anomaly begins. If no immediate calm can be achieved, the area is quarantined and bio-amps recording his speech are shut off to prevent possible memetic effects.
Bartholemew’s containment is effectively passive; attempts to encase him in reality-anchoring gear have failed or been refused by the subject. At present, Special Research Staff (Level 4+) interact with him only by invitation and for limited durations (daily if possible).
Description
SCP-XXXX appears as an elderly humanoid male, superficially similar to SCP-343 (“God”), but subjectively more chaotic in appearance. As with SCP-343, different observers report varying details — some see Bartholemew with wild neon-colored hair and mismatched clothing, others perceive him as a grinning, clownish gentleman.
The only consistent and confirmed identifying trait is his voice: regardless of the form he assumes, SCP-XXXX always speaks in an unmistakably high-pitched voice. This auditory marker persists through every manifestation, disguise, and transformation, and is the most reliable means of confirming his presence in the field.
His basic physiology is that of a healthy adult male (age ~70s), and he exhibits no metabolic needs (does not eat, drink, or sleep in the usual sense). However, Bartholemew behaves in a manic, unhinged manner. He claims to be the “Avatar of Chaos” or “Cosmic Prankster,” explicitly rejecting any notion of benevolent creation that SCP-343 professes. When asked if he created the universe, Bartholemew laughs and replies that the universe is an unscripted improv show gone wrong – then often conjures something absurd to demonstrate his point.
On 01/01/20██, he provoked staff by transfiguring all containment cameras into live goldfish tanks and declared, “Truth is streaming on channel fish-42!” — in his trademark squeaky, high-pitched tone.
Key observed phenomena include:
- Reality Warping: Bartholemew can alter his environment at will, but unlike 343’s calm restructuring, his alterations are random and humorous – disco lights one moment, sudden indoor rainbows and mini-clowns the next. These effects persist only while Bartholemew is conscious of them.
- Mood and Memory Effects: Staff who interact with Bartholemew often report euphoria or uncontrollable laughter, followed by confusion or strange dreams. Bartholemew also seems to cause selective memory loss: after an encounter, witnesses may accurately recall the fact of the event but forget precise details. Example: a researcher once forgot why he met Bartholemew, but insisted, “It involved a sandwich shaped like a starfish.”
- Volition and Communication: Bartholemew is cooperative with questions but speaks in riddles and puns. He shows no hostile intent, often redirecting serious inquiries into jokes. When not amused, he merely smiles – he has never attacked personnel physically, though he once turned a security robot into a dancing jack-in-the-box.
All personnel interacting with SCP-XXXX are reminded that morale boosts are common. Though encounters can be disorienting, there have been no fatalities or injuries attributed to Bartholemew. A de facto staff wellness program has emerged: Dr. ████’s request to rotate all personnel through Bartholemew’s chamber (to “increase morale” in low-performing sections) was surprisingly granted.
Addendum XXXX-1: Interview Transcript
Interviewed: SCP-XXXX (Bartholemew)
Interviewer: Dr. Marisol ██████
Foreword: Formal interview following spontaneous ballroom-dance event on site. Bartholemew has conjured several penguins in tuxedos as background dancers. All present are laughing.<Begin Log>
Dr. ██████: Mr. Bartholemew, please explain the nature of your abilities. Are you omnipotent as you claim?
Bartholemew: (high-pitched giggle) Omnipotent? Oh, sweetie, I’m just… omni-possible. I make possibilities feel omnipotent. 😉
Dr. ██████: (writing) You “make possibilities”? Can you give an example?
Bartholemew: Sure! When you’re bored, I toss in a whoopee cushion. When you’re scared, I sing you a lullaby with an opera-singing cactus. I’m like… reality’s stand-up comic. [He snaps his fingers; the floating goldfish vanish, replaced by tiny juggling puppies.] Ta-da! Puppies!
Dr. ██████: How did you do that?
Bartholemew: Science is overrated. I prefer the “art of surprise.” Each jingling puppy is one of my many business ventures.
Dr. ██████: Business venture? You mean… you sell puppies?
Bartholemew: Not sell, I share them. Spread joy, one furball at a time! Now, what’s next on the questionnaire? [He pulls out a 1950s quiz card labeled “Earlobe Shapes”.]
Dr. ██████: (astonished) Questionnaire? When did you get that?
Bartholemew: Oh, this old thing? I found it in the couch of reality. Sometimes items just slide into existence when I yawn. It’s my fashion accessory.
Dr. ██████: — (end log) —
Closing Statement: SCP-XXXX remained amused throughout. After the interview, all conjured phenomena vanished naturally. Interviewing personnel reported persistent smiles and minor dizziness, with memories of the session intact but tinged with surreal detail.
Addendum XXXX-2: Incident Report
Following Dr. ██████’s interview, a routine paperwork audit revealed that every page on Bartholemew’s file was written in puppy paw-print ink by morning. The on-duty clerk could not recall filling these out but still signed them in cursive. This mirrors earlier anomalous data corruption events. Foundation cryptographers have so far been unable to explain why Bartholemew’s “paw-ink” is both physically present and memetically nonsensical. The document is filed under “Write-In Rabble.” All involved staff requested a five-minute break for laughter therapy, which was approved.
Addendum XXXX-3: [DATA EXPLUNGED]
[DATA EXPUNGED]
<The remainder of this addendum has been removed from all Foundation records by direct order of O5-██.>
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O5-1’s Note:
"If you value your mind, your clearance, and your continued existence in this dimension, stop asking about XXXX-3. We already lost two sites, three weeks, and an entire department over this… and that was just from the draft version."
Classification Rationale
Keter. SCP-XXXX is effectively uncontainable in practice due to its psychologically compulsive nature. Any additional physical containment measures are likely to backfire or be rendered moot by Bartholemew’s reality-warping. Its “Joke” aspects present no existential threat, but the unpredictable nature of its abilities warrants high caution. The high-pitched voice remains the sole guaranteed method of field identification.
Document prepared by: Dr. Marisol ██████ – Site-17 Anomaly Liaison
Approved: Regional Command Council – Site-17 Supervisor (██/██/20██)