To Do: Get your mind off this.
"They got Madeline."
Those three words repeated in Jude's head all through the night, his room illuminated only by the dull glow of a digital alarm clock that blinked back '5:00am'. This was but another one of his failures. The Jannies got another member of Gamers Against Weed — yet another person mind-wiped, another host switch, and another round of pain for his friends. But he took it worse than the rest of them. He always did.
God, I need this, Jude thought as he inhaled the nugget deeply, allowing the pungent aroma of his chosen vice to fill his nostrils.
His body was on fire — figuratively, this time. Not only did every joint in his body ache, he was also plagued with a persistent migraine that refused to fade away. He was jittery, hurting and sluggish. To make matters worse, he could feel the power of his Stand fading within him with each passing moment. It sent tiny electric jolts of pain up his body every so often, reminding him of the power he possessed, one he was losing control of.
The fix to his problems, the evergreen balm to his pain? Weed, of course.
I just… I just need fucking relief. Anything, please. Jude began his ritual of filling, folding, and rolling. It was almost meditative, if not for the constant and overwhelming feeling that everything was going wrong and that there was nothing he could do. But still, Jude tried his best. Even if that meant smoking a nugget he had found under his bed, in a box he hadn't seen in years.
When we were just figuring things out. He remembered it — it was a small shoebox, dusty and barely holding itself together. Emblazoned across the top, he recognized his old handwriting and cringed.
Keefdust Crusaders.
It was mostly empty, save for some small trinkets — and a jar, containing the nugget he had just ground and rolled. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
He leaned back, staring out into the inky darkness as he lit the end of his joint, the flickering flame of the BIC lighter dancing inches from his face. He could feel the heat — it was nice to feel something different for a change, even that.
3. 2. 1. He counted down mentally as he finally took a drag of the joint. The cinders smoldered, racing up the blunt as he inhaled, his mouth filling with a welcome sensation. Sometimes, all he needed was to feel like he was smoking, and that would be enough to calm him down. Today was not one of those days.
As he toked, the smoke filled the room like a creeping fog — his mind kept going back to the same thought that had woken him in the first place.
How much longer can I keep going like this?
It was a question with no clear answer, a puzzle without a solution; he would keep going as long as he could.
"Fuck." He muttered as he exhaled, the smoke billowing out of his nose. I can't stop now, though, they need me. Well, not me. They need the ideal Jude, the one that they can look up to, the one who knows exactly what to do. The perfect Jude, the best Jude, the Jude they all see — fuck. Fuck. I'm not that. I'm the fuck-up. The reject. The fucking loser stoner who has nothing else going for him.
He coughed as a drag went deeper into his lungs than intended. As he did, a foreign sensation began to settle over him. Jude was no stranger to dissociative states. In fact, he enjoyed those moments — being freed from his body, from the never-ending pain, frustration and the constant struggle to just stay alive. Food, water, exercise — everybody hounded him to be better about those.
It's not like I'm choosing not to eat for fun. But fuck, if I have to choose between rent and getting dinner, I'm going to chose rent. Jude knew that he could have asked for help, and his friends would have been right there. They would have jumped into action to come help him, but, that wasn't quite right, was it?
They weren't helping him.
They were helping the idea of him.
He stared at his arm, watching the hairs begin to stand on end. Like static in the air, something was slowly creeping around his body, encompassing him, pushing against his walls. He followed his arm to his hand, where he saw the joint he had been smoking. It was burned down to the filter; he had completely smoked it without noticing.
Fuck, that was the last of it. Maybe the come-up is slow with this one?
Wherever the come-up had been before, it was here now, and it had arrived with a vengeance.
Jude watched as his fingers began to twitch, contorting themselves into intertwined, gnarled roots, twisting the wrong way, the roach dropping into the ashtray. Pain surged up his fingers, as he could feel the bones within his body begin to grow painfully hot, like he had just grabbed a baking sheet from the oven and he couldn't tell his hands to let go.
He had lost all control of his body. He was trapped within its flesh walls. A prisoner in a bloody panopticon. An observer held hostage.
Through the pain, he was barely managing to maintain coherent thoughts. That wasn't just weed. What the fuck was that?
The pain had progressed now, as he began to lose sensation. First, starting in his toes. Slowly moving up his foot. Excruciatingly slow, creeping like a snail on a rotting log. With the loss of feeling came a brief respite from the pain — one that was quickly replaced by panic.
I can't feel my legs. I can't move them. I can't… fuck. I can't do anything. This is my fate. Waiting, a prisoner, trapped, watching as everything I loved and cared about comes crashing down around me. Maybe they're right. I am a fuckup. I'm an idiot, pretending to be trans for 'attention' and I deserve to die.
I get it.
An intrusive thought entered his mind; it wasn't his, but it felt right.
If you die, what will happen to GAW? Who will keep it alive?
As the sensation continued to drain from his body, reaching his chest, the pain returned — different this time. A mental pain. An overwhelming, oppressive, unbearable pain as he felt each of the organs inside of him screaming. His heart refused to pump, straining like a dam about to burst. His lungs shriveled like raisins in the sun, the loss of oxygen slowly suffocating him. Every part of his body hurt. And there was nothing he could do.
'What else is new?' he thought, resigned to his fate for the next few hours. Maybe I'll die, he thought hopefully.
To Do: Find Better Weed
bluntfiend's adults only chatroom
bluntfiend has joined bluntfiend's adults only chatroom!
bluntfiend: Holy crap.
bluntfiend: I just had the worst trip ever.
lesbian_gengar: i would say good morning to you but it's already almost 3 so
bones: I am sorry to hear this, Jude. I hope you are well.
acuterobot: oh no!!!!
acuterobot: owo;
bluntfiend: I'm serious, you guys. I haven't felt this shitty in years.
bluntfiend: I don't know what was in that weed, but I felt like I was dying.
bluntfiend: I also feel like I'm losing control of my Stand.
juliachildenthusiast: Maybe your body is having an averse reaction to smoking so damn much
juliachildenthusiast: Maybe its a sign to lay off for a bit
bluntfiend: The day I stop smoking is the day I die.
bluntfiend: Which, given the situation, I fear may be soon. But anyway.
jockjamsvol6: ????
jockjamsvol6: What?
bluntfiend: Let me explain. I had like a vision.
bluntfiend: I remembered back when I desperately needed friends, Esther and JJ were there for me.
bluntfiend: Most people aren't anywhere near as lucky as I was.
bluntfiend: I know a lot of people could use a place like this, and they don't have it because the fucking jannies keep trying to lock us up.
bluntfiend: I just
bluntfiend: I wish there were something I could do.
bluntfiend: Maybe there is.
bluntfiend: I don't know.
bluntfiend: Fuck me.
bluntfiend: Whatever.
bluntfiend left. (Disconnected.)
juliachildenthusiast: Anyone else worried about him
bones: I believe he is contemplating his own mortality; something most find troubling.
jockjamsvol6: I know what will cheer him up.
jockjamsvol6: ;)
lesbian_gengar: you better not do what i think you're about to do.
To Do: Make a Plan
To Do: Figure it Out As I Go
GAW mod chatzone
jockjamsvol6: 🔗my_ass.png
jockjamsvol6: bluntfiend
lesbian_gengar: jj i swear i am going to kill you for posting ur bare ass in this channel.
lesbian_gengar: i am not interested in softcore gay erotica!
jockjamsvol6: Would you rather I posted softcore lesbian erotica?
lesbian_gengar: u know what?
lesbian_gengar: yes.
bluntfiend: I'm not in the mood.
bluntfiend left. (Disconnected.)
jockjamsvol6: Wow I'm at a loss here.
jockjamsvol6: That usually works.
lesbian_gengar: way to go, jj.
bones: This is concerning. Do either of you know of alternate ways of contacting Jude?
lesbian_gengar: i know fae has his phone number, so maybe try with her?
Private Room — bluntfiend, bones
bluntfiend: bones, I need a favor.
bluntfiend: You can't tell the others though.
bones: Jude, your friends are worried about you. Why are you coming to me, and not them?
bluntfiend: They would try and stop me.
bluntfiend: But I have to do this.
bluntfiend: It's important.
bones: Very well. How can I be of assistance?
bluntfiend: From what I know about you and Lyris, you're strong as hell, right?
bones: This is correct.
bluntfiend: How do you live with yourself knowing that?
bones: I barely do. But I try my best anyway. For the good of everyone else.
bluntfiend: What if you were coming apart at the seams because of your power?
bones: I suppose I would convince her we needed to self destruct to protect everyone else.
bluntfiend: I see.
bluntfiend: Thank you, bones.
Subject: Esther Kogan (POI-6878)
Known Affiliations: Gamers Against Weed, Founder
Topic: SCP-001
BEGIN RECORDING
POI-6878: Look around you. None of us want to be here.
Pause.
POI-6878: I don't want to be here, and yet—
POI-6878 sighs.
POI-6878: You want to know about Gamers Against Weed? You need to know it wouldn't exist without Jude. He… he pulled all of us together, gave us a cause, something to fight for and believe in.
POI-6878 laughs lightly.
POI-6878: He didn't want to. You think Jude wanted to be a leader? JJ and I had to drag him inch by inch, reminding him again and again of all the good that he's done. G-d knows he didn't have the head for it, but everything that Gamers Against Weed is wouldn't exist without him.
POI-6878: Do you know why we're called "Gamers Against Weed?" Because "Keefdust Crusaders" sounded like something a weeb would think of.
END RECORDING
Step 1: You will stop eating and drinking.
🦋 Fae 🦋
Jude we're all worried about you
I'm worried too.
Dude
What's going on
You can talk to me, Jude
Do you think your dad ever wondered what would happen to his zoo after he died?
I don't think Tim thought much about the future at all
Well fuck me, I guess I'm just better about seeing through what I started than your old man.
Why are you being so cryptic
You're acting as if you received some divine mandate of your destiny while high off your ass
You know what?
A chat with Destiny wouldn't be so bad.
??????
Hello????
Jude. Pick up the phone.
Jude, I'm not joking, pick up the phone
"Fae," Jude said, answering his persistently ringing cellphone. "I don't want to talk right now."
I won't let her convince me to stop.
"What the hell are you doing? I don't care if you don't want to talk, I do. So, talk. What's going on?"
"Nothing. Forget I said anything," he replied, knowing it wouldn't matter.
She took a deep breath before speaking again.
"Nice try." Fae paused. "JJ called me. Everybody is worried about you, about what you might do, about—"
"Don't say it, Fae. Don't make it real. If you make it real then we need to talk about it, and I don't want to talk about it. You can't change my mind, I have to do something."
"Jude? Killing yourself isn't something. Death isn't something. Please, Jude, I can't—" her voice cracked. "I can't go through this again," Fae stammered out, and he heard her start to tear up on the other end of the line.
Shit.
"Fae, you… nobody understands what I'm dealing with right now." Jude ran his hands through his hair. "I'm alone, and that's just the way it is."
"You're not alone." Fae said it with such decisiveness that even Jude believed her. "Please. Talk to me, what's going on?"
Jude froze, not sure what to do next.
She's going to try and stop me. I need to—
"Thinking of a lie?" Fae prodded, knowing Jude too well.
"Sorry, just…" Jude struggled to put his emotions into words. "Fae, do you ever think about death? Like… your own death?"
There was silence on the line.
The emptiness tortured him.
"Yeah." Another pause. "Especially when we were in New York, all I could think about was how awful it would be for my friends and family to deal with… you know? Just like, picking up the pieces, everything that I've built and worked for crumbling down around me, until there's nothing left, and what the hell can I do, because, well, I'm gone."
"Yeah, exactly," Jude answered. "I know you said your old man didn't think about the future, what about you? Have you thought about what might happen to your zoo after you…"
Saying it out loud would only make it more real. And neither of them could handle that right now.
"I have. A lot. I saw how much chaos there was when Tim died and… what if nobody is left to carry on my legacy? What if the moment I'm gone, the Supervisors jump in, take all the critters, screw over Anders and Robin, and destroy everything I've built? How can I disappear, if the things that matter to me most will go with me?"
"That's where I am too. I can't let GAW get twisted if I'm not around, I won't let anybody ruin something that is a safe place for my friends. I can't let them down. That's why I need to go down for the team."
"But Jude, you don't have to die."
"I don't know, Fae."
"What the hell do you mean 'I don't know, Fae', of course you do, you do not have to die yet!"
She won't get it. We talked about it once, and she didn't understand then, she's not gonna understand now.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you or be weird," Jude began, talking slowly as he convinced himself of what he was saying. "You don't have to worry, I'm not going to kill myself, I just, I need to plan. Fae, I need to know that, at the end of the day, when all is said and done and I go up to the big ganja cloud in the sky, that GAW will still be a safe place for the people who need it the most. That's it."
"Really?" Her tone screamed her doubts.
"Seriously. I'm just trying to figure it out before it's a problem."
Even though it is a problem already. There was another moment of silence, as Jude waited for Faeowynn's response. She can't know that.
"Fine."
"Thank you. I do need to take a trip though. I need to meet our friend by the lake."
Private Room — bluntfiend, bones
bluntfiend: You can tell me if this is too personal, but, how did you… you know, become you?
bones: I'm afraid I don't understand the question. Are you asking how I was constructed?
bluntfiend: I guess?
bluntfiend: Let me try again.
bluntfiend: How are you still alive? Were you ever alive?
bones: I believe I now understand the question, but I am afraid I cannot provide an answer— as I myself do not know. We simply are; and I will continue to be, for as long as I can.
bluntfiend: How do you handle that? The idea that you have so many things you want to do, things you need to do — and you're just going to keep existing until they are done?
bones: And beyond.
bones: Jude, do you know why I find Gamers Against Weed and your cohort worth protecting?
bluntfiend: No, I don't think I've ever asked.
bones: You are always going to be there for those who are alone.
bluntfiend: That's the idea. Thanks, bones.
Jude arrived at the lake by cover of night, just as one of the refugees started to play Hey Jude on his guitar by Kenowhere's main fire pit.
He fucking hated Hey Jude, but his canine-headed friend seemed thrilled to hear it. Mr. Destiny, who even in the dead of winter in Lake Michigan still had his tits out, was snapping his fingers and tapping his foot to the beat. The pathetically skinny stoner shivered before he proceeded.
The deity, whose head currently resembled that of a massive wolf, sniffed the air for a moment and turned to face the direction Jude was approaching from. "Jude 'bluntfiend' Kriyot! It's lovely to see you." He stood up and spread his arms wide, revealing his impressive physique. The dog-man god-Mister approached Jude and ensnared him in a tight hug.
This is nice.
"Hey, Mr. D," Jude managed to grunt before being released.
"You look too thin. Had I known you were coming, we would have prepared a feast for you!" The deity let out a hearty chuckle.
"There's no need for that, I'm just a guy. Nothing special. Oh, that reminds me. I brought some stuff for you." Jude slung out his backpack from behind him and unzipped it, revealing a handful of seed packets of a variety of vegetables. "It was all I could afford. Sorry."
"Any donation to our cause is valued, be it extravagant or modest. You know this, Jude 'bluntfiend' Kriyot."
"Please, just call me Jude. Or blunt. Or whatever." He handed the packets to Mr. Destiny, who motioned for a woman from the fire pit to approach them. She quickly did so, and took the packets with a polite 'Thank you!' before heading towards one of the tents in the distance.
"So what brings you here, Jude? Surely you didn't risk being captured by the Gocks and Janitors just to drop off some seeds."
Jude made a face.
"Don't call them that."
"Call who what?"
"Forget it. I came because I wanted to talk to you."
"I knew that. And I think you knew that too, Jude." The deity smiled, inasmuch as a wolf could, and turned to walk back to his tent. Jude opened his mouth to protest but decided against it. He merely followed Mr. Destiny into the tent. Inside was a familiar face; that of Silvanus Ayers. The two exchanged a brief look, then they both turned to face Mr. Destiny.
"Silas, this is Jude. You may know each other better as greenmanwalking and bluntfiend respectively."
"Oh hey. I read your reports." Jude awkwardly waved at the former soldier, who offered a smile in return.
"It's a pleasure to meet you." Silas spoke gently, which surprised Jude.
"Silas, I need a moment alone with Jude, if you don't mind." Mr. Destiny's head now bore the appearance of a sly fox. The man merely nodded and stood, then exited the tent just as Mr. Destiny took a seat on a rickety folding chair. "Please, have a seat." He gestured in front of him and another, equally rickety folding chair seemed to appear out of the fog that enveloped Kenowhere.
Jude dropped his bag by the chair's side and sat down. "I'll cut to the chase, Mr. D. I need to die."
"Everyone needs to die eventually." The canine-headed deity nodded sagely.
"No, I mean like… fuck. Okay. I need to die to protect what Gamers Against Weed stands for."
"I know what you meant, Jude. I know your time is coming soon, but I cannot tell you if it's because of what you are intending to do or because you are burning the candle at both ends. Or perhaps even both."
A beat.
"How did you—"
"Did you forget who I am?" His vulpine features made the question feel all the more sly. Jude felt like he was doing this on purpose. Like he was playing with him.
"Whatever, dude. Look, I need to do this. But I don't know how."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
"I think you already know how you're going to go about it, Jude." Mr. Destiny smiled, baring all his sharp teeth.
"I don't."
"If you came to me, I think it's because you already made up your mind."
Silence once more.
Jude sighed. He reached into his pocket and produced a half-smoked joint and lighter. "Mind if I light up?"
"I do not care for the scent, but I understand you do this to relax."
As soon as he heard the word 'but', Jude was already shakily flicking on his shitty BIC lighter. It took a few attempts, but he finally managed to light the end and took a deep drag. His lungs filled with smoke, and after a brief moment, he exhaled.
Mr. Destiny's nose twitched.
"Thanks," Jude coughed out. "But I really have no idea of what I need to do. I need your help. I need you to guide me to my destiny or whatever. Do your thing." He gestured in front of him, waving the joint around.
"I don't guide anyone towards anything. You know this."
"Bullshit."
"We have no bulls on this island, much less their feces."
Jude would have laughed awkwardly in any other circumstance, but he was feeling deadly serious as of late. Instead, he took another hit of his joint and shook his head.
"Don't give me that. You got a Global Occult Coalition Operative to abandon his post and become one of your refugees. You got Dahlia through her school crisis. You help everyone here out, but you won't help me?"
"You want to know what I think, my friend?" Mr. Destiny looked at Jude knowingly, folding his arms across his massive pecs.
"By all fucking means."
"I think you know the answer to what you came to ask me. Not only this, I think you already made up your mind about what you're going to do after you leave Kenowhere."
Jude was silent a moment. The joint in his left hand was already burned down to the filter. Electricity sparked from the fingertips of his right hand before being balled up into a fist. He sighed.
"You're right. I guess I do have a question about… well. My plan."
"I don't feel any different to how I did many moons ago. Neither will you."
"That's not very reassuring."
"I never claimed that I would be able to reassure you, Jude."
Mr. Destiny stood up and walked past Jude, who remained seated. He put a hand on his left shoulder, comforting the boy for the briefest of moments before leaving the tent. Jude sighed and dropped the joint to his feet, stomping it out.
"Fuck me."
To Do: Find MY Destiny
"Jude, you're losing your head over this. Please, is there any way I can help you?" Faeowynn asked through the phone — Jude was thankful that he didn't need to see her reaction to what was coming next.
"Actually? Yeah, you can. I need to talk to the Janitors."
"You? You want to talk to the Foundation? Willingly? Okay, now I'm really worried," she said, trying to break the tension with a joke.
It didn't work.
"I just… Fae, there's a lot going on, and I can't explain everything, but I will tell you everything as soon as I can, I promise. There's just something I need to do," he lied, knowing he had to walk this adventure alone.
"What is it?"
"Fae, I think I need to die."
"No. Absolutely not."
"If I could just expl—"
"Explain what? Jude, there is no fucking explanation that would make that a sentence anybody should ever fucking say, let alone seriously consider."
"Fae, I… I can't help but feel like I am a foreigner in my own body. I am in constant pain because of my Stand, and I can tell that it's going to happen soon. Remember how I told that I spent a lot of my energy trying to resurrect the people I killed back then? It's coming back to bite me now. It's killing me. I know I'm dying. Just like how an animal knows, right?" Jude sighed. "I just… if I am going to die, it's going to be on my terms, and it's going to mean something. My death could protect my legacy, forever."
"Jude. You. Do. Not. Need. To. Die. You don't need to die for your legacy. Your friends need you more than they need your corpse, okay?"
"Even if it means de-transitioning?"
Silence.
"What?"
"If I have to live, I will be forced to de-transition because of my Stand. I won't have it anymore. I would rather die than go back to being Blondie."
Silence once more.
Faeowynn sighed.
"Okay."
"Promise?" he pleaded.
"Promise."
To Do: Tell Your Friends
Subject: Faeowynn Wilson
Known Affiliations: Wilson's Wildlife Solutions, Director; Gamers Against Weed, Member
Topic: SCP-001
BEGIN RECORDING
Faeowynn Wilson: I know this is real, but I didn't think that I would ever be standing here. It feels surreal to be talking to you, talking about Jude.
Pause, sipping water.
Faeowynn Wilson: I didn't think he'd be this stupid. I really didn't. And yet — once he gets an idea in his head, he's like a dog and a bone. Resilient. Persistent. Enduring.
Faeowynn takes another sip.
Faeowynn Wilson: He put others above himself, in everything he did. One time, he even flew out to New York City on a few hours notice, just to support me in any way that he could. No matter what the situation was, he would be willing to sacrifice everything, if he knew that it would help somebody else.
Faowynn smiles slightly.
Faeowynn Wilson: We should all try to be more like Jude.
END RECORDING
Step 2: Find a quiet, dark place where you can be alone. It'll be safe.
GAW General Chatroom
gaycopmp4: I don't think you can really argue that?
gaycopmp4: Blahaj is ABSOLUTELY a queer icon
skinario: but its a shark. how can a shark be gay?
lesbian_gengar: every shark is totally gay, trust me
bluntfiend has joined GAW General Chatroom!
kkrule: Oh shit! A wild Jude appeared!
bluntfiend: Hey, everybody.
bones: Hello Jude; how are you feeling today?
bluntfiend: Heh.
bluntfiend: Yeah, about that.
bluntfiend: I've got a kind of big announcement?
jockjamsvol6: You're gay I knew it
lesbian_gengar: you're converting to judaism? l'chaim, it's about time.
juliachildenthusiast: You still there Jude?
bluntfiend: I needed to let all of you know, I have been thinking a lot recently about life, GAW and what it all means to me. I don't have all of the answers yet, but, I think I might have a plan. And if everything works out the way I think it will, then it will ensure that GAW can stay alive for as long as we're needed. But. As a part of that, I'm going to be going away. This isn't goodbye yet, but… yeah. I just didn't want to ghost everybody.
steakshift: jude
steakshift: have u thought about this at all
steakshift: this sounds p drastic
bluntfiend: I have.
bluntfiend: And I thought about it some more
bluntfiend: And realized that this was the only option.
bluntfiend: Please, don't try to stop me.
lesbian_gengar: it's not like jude is going to kill himself
lesbian_gengar: right?
hetcopogg: What are you going to do?
bluntfiend: I was actually going to try and ask you and gaycopmp4 about something. I have a project in mind. Something to tie up a loose end that's been bugging me.
hetcopogg: Jude, we're not going to help you have a kid. If that's what you're asking.
gaycopmp4: It's easier to just adopt. Trust us.
bluntfiend: I'll DM you two later.
acuterobot: ominous!!
acuterobot: owo;
lesbian_gengar: jude.
lesbian_gengar: i've known you for a long time, so i know that you're not going to stop your plan. you got it in your head, so now it has to be.
lesbian_gengar: are you sure about this? whatever this is?
bluntfiend: Yes.
lesbian_gengar: then let me know if there's anything i can do.
jockjamsvol6: I don't know what's going on, but same? I think?
bones: Your presence will be missed in here Jude. When will you be leaving us?
bluntfiend: I don't know yet. I'll still be around, just… no promises. Okay?
bluntfiend left. (Disconnected.)
gaycopmp4: Well. That wasn't weird.
polaricecraps has joined GAW General Chatroom!
polaricecraps: WHAT THE FUCK IS UP HOMOS
lesbian_gengar: jesus christ polar, read the upscroll.
To Do: Ask for Help
Private Room — bluntfiend, SilentHillGirl99
bluntfiend: Hey, Heather.
SilentHillGirl99: What's up, Jude? I heard you wanted to talk to my moms? What about?
bluntfiend: About the puzzle that you're a piece of.
SilentHillGirl99: Oh.
bluntfiend: Does it hurt?
SilentHillGirl99: Not really. Not in the way you're thinking.
bluntfiend: Should I be scared?
SilentHillGirl99: Fear is what keeps us human, isn't it?
bluntfiend: What do you mean?
SilentHillGirl99: Others fear people like us — we keep our bodies, our traces of humanity, we hold onto those pieces desperately because of what they mean. Not to us, but to others.
bluntfiend: I don't know if I'm ready.
SilentHillGirl99: Nobody is ever ready. All we can do is try our best. At least, that's what my moms tell me.
bluntfiend: What do you think?
SilentHillGirl99: I think that there is nobody else who could do it. Nobody else cares the way you do, Jude. Not in the same way.
To Do: Seriously. Ask for Help.
Jude knocked twice on the apartment door numbered '412'. Was this even the right one? He grumbled, fumbling through his pockets in search of his phone. A roach. A shitty BIC lighter. An empty Ziploc bag. Well, mostly empty. There were a scant few tiny nuggets of weed sparsely populating the bottom right corner. But finally, he pulled out his phone and ran through the last few messages he had gotten from Dahlia and Andressa.
"Shit."
He awkwardly walked one door down to 413 and knocked twice. Almost immediately, a tall woman with curly black hair and glasses answered. She looked him up and down and smiled.
"You made it." She reached forward, embracing him. Jude uncomfortably hugged her back before responding. The smell of food permeated his nostrils.
"Hey, Dahlia. Where's Andressa?"
"In here." A voice rang out from within the apartment. Dahlia motioned for Jude to enter, and shut the door behind him as he did.
"Come," Dahlia said, walking ahead into the apartment. Jude nodded and took off his coat, hanging it on the rack to his left. He then noticed a small collection of shoes and boots to the right of the door, and began taking off his shitty sneakers. The smell of food became more defined as he tugged at his shoelace; he was able to identify it as some sort of rosemary-heavy dish.
Finally down to his socks, he pondered taking off his scarf, but decided against it; it was too cold for that. He sighed and approached the open door in front of him, emerging into a tiny kitchen where Dahlia sat with Andressa, a short woman with pink highlights and thick-rimmed glasses.
"Uh. Hey." Jude waved.
"Come, have a seat. Soup's almost done." Andressa pointed him to a circular table with four seats in the corner of the kitchen.
"I don't want any, thank you."
"Nonsense, you're a guest in casa de Dahlia. Please, eat." She smiled, pushing him towards the table.
Jude grumbled but did not complain further as he took a seat. He looked around, twiddling his thumbs. "So uh. Where's Heather?"
"Heather is in her room. She told us you reached out to her, by the way." Andressa stirred the pot she was laboring over, then wiped sweat from her brow. "You've got all of us worried, Jude."
"She did?" He stared at the ground, focusing on a small brown stain on the linoleum tile. Idle hands are the devil's playthings, and Jude was nothing if not a vessel for the devil. His left hand reached idly to his chest, where he began fidgeting with his crucifix.
"Of course. We're her parents, she tells us everything." Dahlia reached into the cupboard, pulling out three bowls.
"I didn't tell my parents shit." Jude continued to stare at the stain. He was focusing so intently on it, he was starting to see things that weren't there. He could feel every crevice on his crucifix, every indent, every imperfection. He felt himself in it. He felt nothing.
"Well, we actually listen."
"Damn right." Andressa nodded.
"Mhm." Jude saw himself in the stain. Dirty, worthless, only memorable for how filthy he was. His knuckles whitened around his crucifix.
Silence.
"Jude." Dahlia spoke up. "Andy told me what you told her. Are… are you sure you want to do that?"
"Mhm." Nothing important. An ant amongst gods. He couldn't begin to comprehend how unimportant he and this stain were.
"Okay. But why do you want it to kill you?"
"Mhm." A spec of dust floating in the infinite cosmos. Nothing more. Nothing less.
"Jude."
"Mhm."
"Jude!" Dahlia snapped her fingers in his face. He jumped and sat back in his chair, blinking.
"Jude. Why do you have to die?" Andressa and Dahlia were both looking at him. He returned his gaze to the stain, avoiding eye contact.
"It's the only way," he mumbled.
"The only way for what?"
"The only way they won't twist me against you and everyone else."
"Who is they?" Dahlia probed.
"Jannies. Coalition. Feds. Any other three-letter agency out there that wants to keep people like us down. But the ironic twist is that I need their help."
Dahlia and Andressa exchanged confused looks. "Who is 'they?'" Andressa asked.
He sighed. "The Jannies."
"Oh hell no. You're not seriously thinking of going to them, are you?" Dahlia raised her voice slightly. "After what they did to Heather?"
"It's… it's the only way. Trust me. I already have an in with them. All I need is for you to do the ritual." His eyes slowly moved away from the Jude-shaped stain to meet the gaze of both women, who stared at him incredulously. His head was spinning so fast he swore it would come loose.
A heavy silence followed, accentuated by the muffled sound of Heather playing Animal Crossing in her room a few feet away.
"Jude, I…" Andressa stammered. "I know you have your mind set on it. Esther says that once you make up your mind, its impossible to change it. And I trust you. So… fine."
"Is there no other way? Are you sure, Jude?" Dahlia pleaded.
"I'm sure. I promise." He replied softly and shakily, like a lamb learning to walk.
"You really don't see any other way to do this? Why do you have to die?" Andressa spoke in hushed tones, as to keep Heather from hearing them.
"Because if I stay alive, what happens when I die? I'm not like Mr. D. I'm just a normal dude. But if I die, then they can't kill me and I can keep doing the good work."
"And how will you do that if you're dead?" Dahlia wasn't buying it, he could tell. Jude reached into his pocket and produced his cell phone, a shitty beater that was only still working because of his Stand.
"With this."
"And how will you text if you're dead?" Dahlia frowned.
"Remember Cole?"
Both women exchanged a look.
"Oh no. Hell no." Andressa stood up, cupping her hands over her face.
"I'm dead serious. Tell me what you need, and I will make it happen." Jude stood up, approaching Andressa.
"Aren't you worried about hell or whatever?" Dahlia shook her head. "You do realize this is one of the biggest sins, yeah? At least if what I know about Catholicism is true."
"Look at me. Do you think it matters at this point?"
"Fine. This is crazy, but fine," she mumbled.
For the first time in what felt like ages, Jude smiled. He reached out with his lanky arms to envelop them both as best he could in an awkward, uncomfortable hug.
"Dahlia, please find me my tattoo gun."
To Do: Find The Spark
"Bueno. Who is this?"
"Jude."
He was even more out of it than he usually was, but he knew there was a reason he called her.
"How do I find my fire again?" he asked, desperately hoping she didn't hang up on him.
"Why do you care? I thought you would never join the fight." Her tone was cold, but she hadn't hung up yet. He might still have a chance.
"I need it. Just like you had it, I need to find that spark, that fire within me. That… essence of me that can survive anything. Even death."
Jude held his breath. The silence was palpable. He knew that he hadn't gotten everything right with her, but he hoped that at least—
"So you finally figured it out?" she answered, laughing in a melodic overture. "El niño wants to be a martyr?"
"Yeah." Jude said. "I need to be the last person who needs to die in this fight. I remember everything you taught me. I know that you can't avoid fighting forever, fuck, I've been dealing with that for the past few years more and more. I am so tired of being the better person, choosing non-violence and hoping that my trust will be rewarded. I am sick of other people getting hurt because I believe in a better version of the world, in a better version of everybody. I'm… I'm tired, and I don't know what else I can do."
"So what are you going to do about it?" her voice echoed clearly in Jude's mind. "Will you beg forgiveness? Will you prostrate yourself for mercy? Will you compromise who you are, for the good of the people?"
Jude knew that if he crossed that line again, he could never come back. That if he truly let himself give in, to become the monster he felt inside, to reignite the fire deep within him and turn it into a roaring inferno — that he would cease to exist. There would be no Jude, no conscience, no pacifist; there would just be death. Blood on his hands. No. Never again.
"I can't. I won't change who I am, not at the end. If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it my way." He shook as he spoke, pain and fog coursing through his mind. "I'm going to fight, but I needed to remember why I was fighting. I needed to remember why I'm still here."
"Jude, do you remember what I said to you, years ago, back when I was still figuring out who I had become?" The voice said in an unusually somber tone.
"No. Sorry."
"I told you that I was both a blessing and a curse — a martyr and a warrior, all in one. I was more than just a woman. I was a trinity of burning rebellion, of liberation, of freedom. I was a movement." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "I became a symbol of revolution. And when I finally understood that, I looked at you. I saw the boy who had burned so bright that he himself was scared of his own flame. I saw the boy who desperately wanted to fight for freedom, to protect the people that were just like him. I saw myself in you. We have the same fire, you know? But yet…"
"But I'm not you." Jude finished for her. "You let your fire spread. I need to keep mine in."
"I had hoped that, after all this time, after watching all the callous ways the world treated your friends, all the horrible fates that befell people like us, all the systemic prejudice that drives every moment in our lives — I hoped you would have given up your pacifism. Imagine how bright we could burn, together?"
"Ms. Zapatista, I can make the world a better place without letting the fires consume everybody else around me. I can make a change, make a difference, leave my mark — and I don't need to sacrifice who I am, just because I'm lashing out."
"Jude. You have no more excuses. You need to decide who you are and what you stand for. Now are you a fire, or are you cinders?"
"Neither. I am going to become ashes, and scatter myself across the world."
"You puzzle me Jude, and yet… that is a fitting ending. The last step. You are joining us?"
"In a way. And if I get everything right."
"I look forward to watching your conflagration. To give you an answer to your question then, to tell you how to find your spark: you have already found it. You just need to let it burn. If you can, I know you will be a beautiful bonfire."
Jude found himself smiling.
"I'll see you on the other side, comrade."
She hung up. But Jude felt the flames inside of him, burning brighter and brighter still. There was still time to go out in a blaze of glory.
bluntfiend's adults only chatroom
bluntfiend has joined bluntfiend's adults only chatroom!
juliachildenthusiast: Jude?
juliachildenthusiast: Holy shit where have you been
bluntfiend: Hey. Just wanted to say final goodbyes before I meet the Jannies. I'm laying low in a church right now, waiting and praying.
lesbian_gengar: i know its a waste of breath (or finger strokes i guess lol) but u really shouldn't do this. not only is it a sin theres no going back once you do it, mr. catholic boy.
bluntfiend: There was never a choice to go back. From the moment we started this fucking thing, it was always going to end like this. This is my fate.
juliachildenthusiast: Ive been thinking about our conversation.
juliachildenthusiast: Are you sure?
bluntfiend: I can't keep living. Not like this.
jockjamsvol6: Jude.
jockjamsvol6: You really dont have to do this. We can keep changing hosts. We can keep moving.
jockjamsvol6: As long as it takes.
bluntfiend: I'm done letting other people die while I fucking suffer. Why won't you just let me give up? Why do I matter?
juliachildenthusiast:Because youre our friend. Because we care about you. You were there for me when Katie killed herself, whose going to be there for us now that youre doing the same?
bluntfiend: That's not my problem. That's the whole thing, don't any of you understand? Let me spell it out: everything that is happening should not have been my problem to solve. I shouldn't have suffered as much as I did, I didn't deserve this - but I did, and it's done. I'm sick of solving every problem but my own, I'm tired of dealing with bullshit landlords and I can't keep being the person you so clearly need me to be!
bluntfiend: Just let me rest. Let me sleep. Give me freedom from this hell, please.
lesbian_gengar: jude… if u do this ur going to be pissing g-d off. r u sure u can handle that at this tender moment?
bluntfiend: God can meet me in hell, and when he does, he can explain why he made the world a place of suffering.
jockjamsvol6: Hey.
jockjamsvol6: Just wanted to let you know that if you go through with this you'll never get to see my ass or abs ever again.
bluntfiend: I think I'll be alright.
bluntfiend: Anything you wanna say while I'm here, bones? Since everyone seems to think they know better than me about me?
bones: Like I said before, I would never mock or doubt you. I believe that you believe you are doing the right thing.
bluntfiend: Gee, thanks for the resounding vote of confidence.
bluntfiend: Whatever.
bluntfiend: I'm out.
bluntfiend has left bluntfiend's adults only chatroom!
jockjamsvol6 has joined GAW General Chatroom!
jockjamsvol6 set the channel topic: Welcome to Gamers Against Weed. If you're here, that means our friend, bluntfiend, reached out to you. You don't have to stay here if you don't want to, but if he was talking to you, it's safe to assume you could stand to have a few friends by your side. We have one rule; be excellent to each other.
jockjamsvol6: I don't know what else to say.
Step 3: Take one final deep breath, and let go.
The door leading to SCP-001's suspended animation chamber.
Special Containment Procedures: The Foundation is to contain SCP-001 indefinitely within a suspended animation pod at Site-55. SCP-001 does not require any other care at this time, nor will it at any point in the future.
Description: SCP-001 is the body of PoI-6870, a founding member of GoI-5869, Gamers Against Weed. It has not been observed to decompose or otherwise experience entropy, however, it was recovered bruised and beheaded. Despite its condition, it still produces a heartbeat.
SCP-001-A is a nondescript smartphone that has been directly fused to SCP-001's heart. It is believed that as a result of this process, SCP-001 is the source of a widespread anomalous phenomenon affecting all digital devices, which has not been contained at this time. SCP-001-A is capable of transmission without a wireless signal or power supply. In addition to its other anomalous effects, SCP-001-A hosts the GoI-5869 chat servers.
It is believed that SCP-001 is self-sufficient and will continue operation indefinitely.
SCP-001's anomalous effect triggers when an individual matching SCP-001's definition of vulnerable or marginalized is using their phone and experiencing severe emotional distress. When a subject feels these emotions, and is identified through unknown means as 'needing help', SCP-001-A will anomalously connect with the subject's device and open a private chat room. Included below is an example of SCP-001's primary effect:
Private Room — bluntfiend, [REDACTED]
bluntfiend: You're not alone.
[REDACTED]: What? How are you doing this?
[REDACTED]: Did you hack my phone?
bluntfiend: I'm sorry about what happened to you. Nobody deserves to be outed, especially to their family.
[REDACTED]: How do you know that?
[REDACTED]: And why do you care
[REDACTED]: what do you want
bluntfiend: I used to be alone too. I used to cry by myself, to sit and dream of a world where I didn't have to be trapped, didn't have to be limited by those around me. I had nobody.
[REDACTED]: Are you rubbing it in?
bluntfiend: No.
bluntfiend: I'm here to invite you somewhere you can always know you will be safe:
SYSTEM: You have received an invitation to GAW General Chat.
SCP-001-A has, to date, only contacted individuals who are not involved in any normalcy organization. Additionally, some senior members of GoI-5869 are aware of the condition of SCP-001 and speak of it in passing. The means by which they are aware of this remains unknown as, to the Foundation's knowledge, SCP-001-A has not contacted said members.
Addendum 001-.1: Relevant Intake Interview
Foreword: Prior to entering containment, PoI-6870 messaged Dr. J. Everwood and demanded to meet in private after the former was given access to the latter's contact information by Faeowynn Wilson. Dr. Everwood acquiesced, and the two met at the Cathedral of the Holy Cross in Boston, 30 minutes away from Site-55 at approximately 10:45 PM local time.
<BEGIN LOG>
[PoI-6870 is seen exiting the church. They approach Everwood slowly, shivering.]
PoI-6870: Did you know that world-renowned writer Stephen King was once hit by a car?
Everwood: Just something to consider. Code phrase acknowledged. Hey, Jude. Not making it bad or anything, are you?
PoI-6870: I fucking hate the Beatles. Come on.
Everwood: Fine. Hello, Mr. Kriyot.
PoI-6870: Mr. Kriyot was my father. Call me… uh. Actually, don't call me anything. I don't know if I can even answer to that name anymore.
Everwood: What do you mean?
[PoI-6870 finally stands in front of Dr. Everwood. His left hand appears bruised.]
PoI-6870: Long story, and I don't have a lot of time to talk. I just… I need you to make the Jannies make me a promise.
Everwood: You know we have procedures we need to follow an—
PoI-6870: Please just listen to me. I know I'm a pain in the ass, but I'm here to make peace.
[The wind howls.]
PoI-6870: And to ask a favor.
PoI-6870: From you personally.
Everwood: Are you okay, Jude? You seem a little off. Plus, it's not like you to just demand a meeting like this.
PoI-6870: Look, I need you to listen to me.
Everwood: Fine. Go ahead.
PoI-6870: I need you to contain me.
Everwood: …What?
PoI-6870: I know it sounds crazy, but I need you to contain me. Please. Anyone else would try to either spin what I'm trying to do into something that would benefit them, or hurt my friends.
[PoI-6870 shivers and hugs himself. He looks away for a moment before making eye contact with Dr. Everwood, who flinch.]
PoI-6870: Please. I know how you Jannies work. You're the only ones I can turn to.
Everwood: I mean… I don't know if the O5 Council would be pleased to have their inside man sitting in a cell. And you wouldn't be able to talk to your friends anymore, I'm fairly certain. This is, of course, all assuming that they do agree to contain you. It's not like my superiors to want to contain valuable assets. At least not nowadays.
PoI-6870: Fine. In the meantime, let me ask you something.
Everwood: Sure.
PoI-6870: Do you believe in God?
Everwood: I was raised atheist, but specifically Catholic atheist. I come from Cuba, so I have a complicated relationship with religion.
PoI-6870: Well, I'm Catholic.
Everwood: I know, it's in your file. Did you come to this church for confession?
PoI-6870: Yes. I did. I… I've lived a life of sin. I know that I'm not getting into heaven. Saint Peter isn't letting me through the pearly gates. I've smoked too much, lusted too much, did too much sloth, ironically, was too much of a faggot tra— Actually, no. I can't say that word, even now. Oh, and I've killed. I don't even go to church. Not many times anyway. I come for Easter and Christmas mass, but that's about it. And even then, I have to immediately go home and toke up a bunch or I'll vomit from the anxiety.
Everwood: Why are you telling me this?
PoI-6870: Because I'm trying to get you to warm up to me. To show you that I'm a person too.
Everwood: Jude, I believe you. Gamers Against Weed are probably the most well-meaning group out there. You give people a place they can be themselves in safely.
[The soft cooing of a dove is audible nearby.]
PoI-6870: So the reason I asked you if you believe in God is because… I'm afraid. Of God.
Everwood: I gathered.
PoI-6870: God. I don't even know if I'm doing this right. But look, can you turn off the microphone for just a minute?
Everwood: You and I both know I can't do that.
PoI-6870: Fine. Just promise me you'll talk to them, okay? About containing me.
Everwood: I don't understand why you want to be contained. Did you piss someone off? The Coalition? Or AWCY again?
PoI-6870: No. It's just something I have to do.
Everwood: Why? You didn't answer me when I asked if you were okay earlier, and now you're being super cryptic with me. Please, just answer me in straightforward terms. What happened? Also, what the hell is going on with these bruises? Your face is turning purple, and I don't think it's from the cold.
PoI-6870: So you said you were raised Catholic atheist, right?
Everwood: Yes, but—
PoI-6870: Do you know why I named myself "Jude?"
Everwood: Can't have been because of the Beatles, but Jude, look, I need to know what's going on in order to help you.
PoI-6870: Saint Jude is the patron saint of the hopeless and the despaired. I named myself Jude because… well. I'm sure you can guess why from there.
Everwood: You're not hopeless or despaired. You have tons of friends who care about you and a group that's thriving because of you. If anything, you give people hope. And speaking of hope, please let my field medic take a look at you. I can call her over.
PoI-6870: I think I need to make a sacrifice here. For them. To make sure that they're protected. To make sure that the flame never goes out. To make sure there are no lost causes.
Everwood: I don't think—
PoI-6870: And speaking of lost causes, I need one last thing. Please stop coming after my friends. Consider me turning myself in an act of peace. I talked to them. Promise. Do a peace treaty-type thing like you have with Three Ports and Esterberg.
Everwood: I really don't think I can promise that, considering all the incidents Gamers Against Weed have caused.
PoI-6870: Please. At least try to talk to your bosses. I know you wouldn't have met with me if you didn't trust me.
Everwood: I… Fine. I'll talk to the Council.
PoI-6870: Thank you. The Coalition or UIU would have tried to weaponize what I'm trying to do, or turn into some sort of mass surveillance thing.
Everwood: What? You still haven't told me what you're trying to do.
PoI-6870: Anyway, I think what Andressa did should be working now. Here. This will explain everything.
[PoI-6870 hands Dr. Everwood a piece of paper. They take a moment to read it to themselves. When they finish, PoI-6870 collapses onto the snow, kneeling.]
Everwood: Jude?
[Dr. Everwood stuffs the paper into their coat pocket and squats down to PoI-6870. They then shake him, to no avail.]
PoI-6870: Into your hands, I commend my spirit—
Everwood: Jude?!
[PoI-6870's head falls off onto the ground. Notably, there is no blood.]
Everwood: What the hell?! Command, I need help!
[The field agents dispatched alongside Everwood approach the scene and assess PoI-6870. PoI-6870 is declared deceased. His remains are collected and he is placed into an unmarked vehicle for transport to Site-55.]
<END LOG>
Afterword: Following this event, containment of SCP-001 began.
To all reading this document,
You may feel that we should be doing more for containment and that we should be actively pursuing alternative solutions to neutralize SCP-001's anomalous abilities. There is something about a complex problem that beckons Foundation researchers. They will spend months of their lives trying to find a way to contain or limit an anomalous object, without considering why the Foundation is containing it. We get so caught up on trying to prove we know best, we fail the anomalies that we are trying to contain.
We fail to see them as people, as tangible things with agency, as objects that were — intentionally or otherwise — created with a purpose in mind. We see a puzzle, and will do anything we can to 'solve' it. We do all of this in the pursuit of 'normalcy', to protect the natural order of what is expected, and what does not belong. We call it 'consensus reality', but is that accurate? It's our consensus, and we decide what is normal and what is not; there is no such thing as baseline, there is simply what we determine as optimal for containing anomalies. But, the core issue isn't that we define 'reality' — it's how our choices reinforce the oppressive, prejudiced perspectives of what being normal means. By containing those that are outside of the norm, we reinforce the idea that normal can only be one thing.
We support the very social dynamics that have hurt all of the victims in the first place; our reinforcement of 'normalcy' is no different than those who tell queer or transgender individuals that they are 'abnormal' or wrong. Yes, the actions we take may be different, as are our intentions, but the effect is the same: being on the fringes, being marginalized, being different, all of these become a risk. It is a danger to be anomalous, to be queer, to be different — and the very actions the Foundation takes keep that dichotomy alive.
We are not a neutral organization, we objectively try to do good, and improve the world where we can. Why haven't we considered that? Why do we continually choose the path of least resistance?
This is where that stoicism leads. A life thrown away because nobody stepped in. We watch the martyrs from a safe distance, watching them burn through rose-tinted windows, remembering the times we used to throw stones. When somebody is driven to the point of no return, when they feel like they have no other option but giving up forever, why do we just stand still and wait for the conclusion?
How can we live with the knowledge that we should have done more?
Actively trying to contain and restrict SCP-001 does not help the Foundation, and it certainly does not help the vulnerable populations that it supports. By trying to prevent SCP-001's behavior, we are trying to destroy that support network. Are we really willing to continue working against creating a system for those in need, just for the sake of 'normalcy'?
And if we are, then where do we draw that line?
— Dr. Jay Everwood, SCP-001 Research Lead
Addendum 001.2: Note handed to Dr. Everwood
Thank you for containing me and keeping anyone else out there from twisting me against the people I love so much. Thank you for not letting me de-transition. Thank you for letting me die on my own terms. Thank you for everything.
Thank you for collecting them all.
01. Mr. Literal Serial Killer
02. Mr. Normie
03. Mr. Bernie Sanders
04. Mr. Get Anything For Free In Any Shop
20. Mr. Sex Number
21. Mr. Heavenly Virtues
22. Mr. Deadly Sins
23. Mr. Original Character
24. Mr. D.A.R.E.
25. Mrs. Gentrification
26. Ms. Mad About Video Games
27. Mr. Meme
28. Mr. Ominous (discontinued)
29. Mr. Destiny
30. Mr. Monty Python And The Holy Grail
31. Ms. Zapatista
32. Mr. Hax
33. Mr. Just Has The Tattoo
34. Mr. Top Text and Mr. Bottom Text
35. Mr. Finale ✔
Addendum 001.3: Since entering containment, SCP-001-A has received upwards of 10,000 text messages, expressing gratitude or thanks.
Step 4: Be at rest.
St. Jude the oft forgotten, You shall remembered be. We hail you now in glory and have recourse to you for help, for the despairing, when hopeless seems the task and from the Heart of Jesus through you we favors ask.
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