Conversations with the Author

"Thank you for coming… Dr. Bright."

The mentioned researcher frowned at the sight before him. The subject of his gaze was-

Well, he was not impressive. Over thirty years old, close to three hundred pounds, brown hair down to his shoulders, dirty brown eyes behind the thick military style glasses the Foundation had provided for him, dressed in the bright blue jumpsuit that designates him a humanoid SCP. He fiddled with the ring on his left ring finger, staring back at Dr. Bright with what he seemed to think was an imperious glare. Sadly, no one looks threatening in baby blue jumpsuit.

"You're welcome Mister, ahem, Duckman. I regret that we were not able to facilitate your other requests for this meeting. Straight jackets are in short supply, and it would have taken several weeks to get a plexiglass divider installed. May I inquire as to why you needed them?" For his part, the good doctor was in a small, unassuming body. An older man, head shaved bald, probably no more than one twenty, beady little blue eyes that would be squinting if not for the contacts, his clothes mismatched beneath his pristine white coat.

The Duckman ran a hand through his hair, and sighed heavily. "I was just kind hoping for… Well…" He sighed again, as he muttered. "More of a Hannibal Lector type thing, y'know?"

The Doctors eyes never left the younger man, and his expression didn't seem to change, yet there was still a hardening of his gaze. "Do you consider this a game?"

"No, no!" The Fowl One backpedals furiously. "I just wanted to, set the scene, you know? Make the story more interesting than-" He gestures around them. "Two guys sitting at a table, talking. I mean, okay, there's room for me to walk around and be a little dramatic-" He barely manages to lift his rear from the seat before the smaller man is in front of him, slamming him back down into the seat with more force then that little body should hold.

"This is not one of your stories! We do not need to add any drama!" Those beady eyes contract even further, and, for a moment, the man known as SCP-███ feels like he is staring into the abyss. "If it were up to me, I would put you in a medical coma until we can figure out whether you have any control over what you know, or even just kill you and rid of you! You live because O5-6 thinks you might have something of value to give us. Which I assume is why you've sought an audience with me?"

"Hmph. Yeh, I know all about how you treat humano-" The younger man more feels then hears the growl building in Brights throat and quickly changes the topic. "I need more information, before I can help and you seem the most likely candidate to assist me."

"Because, as you've claimed, you wrote me, so I'm the one you can fact check with?" Jack rolled his eyes as he made his way back around the table to his own chair.

"No, because you're one of the only researchers with a level 5

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