[BEGIN LOG]
SCP-4089 and O5-12 are sitting in a sleigh being drawn by eight SCP-4089-3 instances through a featureless void. There is no apparent light source in the scene. In spite of this the sleigh, it's inhabitants, and the reindeer are clearly visible.
O5-12: What the hell?!
SCP-4089: Hello there.
O5-12: What did you do?
SCP-4089: You were watching the broadcast, were you not? I'm taking you on a trip, to make my case that the Foundation ought to let me work in peace.
O5-12: If you think demonstrating the ability to kidnap an O5 at will is going to get you leniency, you are sorely mistaken.
SCP-4089: Oh I can't do this at will. My reality bending powers can only be used for things that are thematically appropriate for the Christmas season. Plus, this is really hard, it's probably going to take two or three days off my lifespan.
O5-12: And why would I believe that?
SCP-4089: Because if I lied I'd be dead right now. Remember that I'm under a geas, and we'll avoid a lot of unnecessary questions.
O5-12: Well, if you're telling the truth, how is kidnapping someone associated with Christmas?
SCP-4089: Kidnapping isn't, but taking someone on a supernatural journey through time to gain a greater perspective? A couple of the greatest Christmas stories of all time put that solidly in my wheelhouse.
O5-12: You mean… Ok. So what, you're here to teach me the true meaning of Christmas?
SCP-4089: There is no true meaning of Christmas. For every culture, time period, organization, family, and individual, Christmas means something different.
O5-12: That's an interesting sentiment, coming from you.
SCP-4089: It's the truth. Say, I'd like to ask you a question. I think I know the answer, but I want to hear it in your words.
O5-12: Very well.
SCP-4089: Why do you want to contain me? I don't hurt anyone, and I give presents to kids.
O5-12: If you think that I'm going to go to bed tonight with a smile on my face because I locked up Santa Claus, you're wrong. But it is the Foundation's duty to contain anomalies and protect normalcy. We don't choose to not contain an anomaly because we like it. That's not who we are. There are many anomalies we'd love to share with the world, but we don't because none of those are worth sacrificing humanity's ability to live in a sane, normal universe. So we don't judge whether an anomaly is good or bad, we just contain every anomaly. And it's these principles that keep us from simply being an organization that exercises its enormous power arbitrarily.
SCP-4089: That's fair I suppose, but it also means that you don't contain for containing's sake, your goal is to protect normalcy. Therefore, shouldn't it follow that if containing me would do more damage to normalcy than not, you should leave me be?
O5-12: Perhaps, but that would be a difficult thing to prove.
SCP-4089: Yeah, it will be. So, here's the deal. I'm deeply connected to the concept of Christmas, and I mean that literally. If I stop doing my job, I'm not Santa in a meaningful sense, and so Santa doesn't exist in a meaningful sense. This will break down the concept of Christmas in such a way that, over the next 20 or 30 years, people's interest in Christmas will shrink to almost nothing. No new holiday or tradition will emerge to fill the void either, the whole conceptual space Christmas occupies will be poisoned.
O5-12: Christmas… is not an unacceptable sacrifice, especially if its loss would be as gradual as you describe.
SCP-4089: I figured you'd say something like that, which is why you're here. Earlier you asked if I was going to teach you the true meaning of Christmas. Actually, I'm going to teach you what Christmas means to the SCP Foundation.
The sleigh seems to "land" and "stop," despite no apparent surfaces being present to land on. A door materializes behind the sleigh. SCP-4089 steps out of the sleigh and gestures to O5-12 to follow.
SCP-4089: Here is our first stop.
SCP-4089 walks over to the door and opens it. A bright light shines through the doorway. O5-12 walks over to the door, and both walk through, the camera's perspective following.
SCP-4089 and O5-12 are now standing in an office building. Signage on a bulletin board indicates that this is an office of the Records and Information Security Administration (RAISA), and that it is December 20, 1997.
SCP-4089: Don't worry, no one can see or hear us, because we aren't truly here. This is a projection of an event in a possible future, one where you lock me up. I brought you here to see this.
A woman walks down an aisle and turns into a cubicle near where SCP-4089 and O5-12 are standing. A man is sitting in the cubicle, working on a personal computer.
Woman: Hey Dex. Uh… How's it going?
Dex: I need a stiff drink. Does that answer your question?
Woman: That bad?
Dex: Worse than usual.
Woman: Well, Yuki, Harrison, and I are about to take a break, and meet up. You're welcome to join, of course.
Dex: Thanks for the offer Julie, but I'll pass. I'd just bring the mood down.
Julie: Well, if you change your mind, come. Are you doing anything interesting soon? Christmas party, or something?
Dex: Nah, my family isn't really celebrating Christmas this year.
Julie: Yeah, mine neither.
The woman walks away. The man rubs his face for several seconds, then gets up and follows the woman. O5-12 walks into the man's cubicle, and sees that he is working on a report entitled "Suicide Rates Among Foundation Personnel over the Past 5 Years." O5-12 reads the abstract of the report, indicating an average suicide rate of █.█% per year, with 1997 having an even higher rate of █.█%.
O5-12: Jesus, he was right. This is exceptionally bad, even for us.
SCP-4089 pulls a sheet of paper from its coat and hands it to O5-12.
SCP-4089: Here's the same report, made by the same person, from the timeline where you allow me to continue my yearly deliveries.
This report indicates a significantly smaller 5 year average of █.█%, with 1997 being below that average with █.█%.
O5-12: So you're going to attribute the difference to Christmas? All these people killed themselves over Christmas?
SCP-4089: A bit oversimplified, but not entirely wrong. Foundation employees must often put their sense of well-being, their sanity, their lives, sometimes more, on the line in defense of the world. But, in order for this to happen, the world has to seem worth it. When they step out of the sites and areas and return to the world they protect, they need to be reminded of what they love. And Christmas does a great job of that doesn't it? Time with family and friends, giving and receiving gifts, goodwill towards man, these are some of the things that make the fight worthwhile. Humanity has them year-round, but they're easiest to see in the Christmas season. So, it doesn't matter what time of year it is, I'd say the Foundation is fighting for Christmas every day. If that goes, there are consequences. Come, we have three more stops before you return.
SCP-4089 leads O5-12 to the door of a utility closet. He opens the door, and a bright white light shines through the doorframe. They walk through and the camera follows.
The two are now standing in a hallway, with a large Foundation logo on one wall. SCP-4089 entreats O5-12 to follow it. They move through two halls and down a flight of stairs.
O5-12: I know these halls. They're different from how I recall, but this must be Site-17.
SCP-4089: That it is. Site-17 in the year 2017 to be precise.
As the two progress down another hallway, a song becomes audible. The song is "A Holly Jolly Christmas" by Burl Ives.
O5-12: So, I suppose this is the future where you get your way?
SCP-4089: You're two for two.
SCP-4089 opens a door leading into the Site-17 cafeteria. A large banner reading "Happy Holidays Site-17!" hangs from the ceiling. A Christmas party is being held, with numerous personnel attending. Notably, many sapient anomalies contained at Site 17 are also in attendance, each being supervised by a guard and wearing a badge clearly indicating their SCP designation. Though most of these had not been contained when the video was obtained, all have since been identified.
SCP-4089 and O5-12 walk through the crowd. Researchers, guards, and anomalies are socializing, playing games, and eating. Another door to the cafeteria opens and approximately 40 D-Class personnel enter, escorted by guards. A cheer starts among the crowd. A nearby researcher speaks to an agent.
Researcher: The party hasn't started 'til the D-boys show up.
SCP-4089 and O5-12 watch as three D-Class personnel are invited to join a game of poker with a researcher, SCP-527, SCP-3988, and SCP-3908. The players gamble with Hershey's Kiss candies rather than currency. O5-12 turns and speaks to SCP-4089.
O5-12: What are we here for? What point are you trying to make?
SCP-4089: We can talk about that in a bit. For now, let's just watch the festivities. Whatever catches your eye, go look.
O5-12 surveys the area, and moves toward a table with refreshments. SCP-2020 is speaking to SCP-073 and SCP-105.
SCP-2020: Wow, okay, just had an even better idea. I guess this isn't really a sci-fi story, but it kind of blurs the line between sci-fi and fantasy, but with a sci-fi feel. So there's this big secret organization that collects weird stuff, Area 51 style. Cliche, right?
SCP-073 appears slightly bemused. SCP-105's body language suggests it wants to exit the conversation, but can't find a way to do so tactfully. SCP-2020's guard is suppressing a laugh while drinking punch.
SCP-2020: So these guys find out that Santa is real! Yeah, this is a Christmas story! So they gear up to go lock up Santa, but then Santa takes one of the group's big bosses on a magical journey and convinces him - actually wait no it'd be good if the big boss was a girl. So he convinces her to let him keep delivering presents and saves Christmas. Cliche right? But cliche in a good way, I think, because it makes it a Christmas story, not just a story that has Santa in it. What do you think?
SCP-105: Uhh, yeah that sounds good Izzy.
SCP-2020: Wait, new idea: Santa, but evil!
SCP-2800 approaches from behind SCP-2020 and speaks to it.
SCP-2800: Hey Bobby, someone wants to meet Iris and Cain, so I'm going to take them to him, and then I'll come back and listen to your new idea.
SCP-2020: Sure, I can wait. Have fun, guys.
The three walk away, and O5-12 and SCP-4089 follow.
SCP-105: Thank you.
SCP-2800: No need to thank me. Cactusman is always ready to lend a hand.
O5-12 and SCP-4089 slow and stop, allowing the three to walk away.
O5-12: What on earth was that SCP-2020? Did he know about us?
SCP-4089: Ho, ho, ho, he's a character isn't he? I don't think he knows what he's talking about. I could be wrong though.
O5-12 notices a group of individuals who seem to be circled around something. Upon approaching, the individuals, which include two researchers, two agents, SCP-3619, and SCP-2842, are seen to be listening intently to a sitting D-Class personnel, D-451.
D-451: So there I was, in the final puzzle, feeling like I had figured it out. The TVs responded to sounds, and the rods were a musical staff. I'd use the control panel to move the TVs on the rods and put them in the position of the notes of the little jingle that played when I solved the last two puzzles. I'd get out of that damn cube and be thankful I had played piano in high school. But as soon as I had gotten the last TV into position, four hatches opened on the walls and hundreds of brute-forcers started pouring into the pit my platform was above. This created a lot of noise, and then, about 50 feet above my platform, these huge fans came out of the walls of the shaft and started blowing, making even more noise. The TVs were going crazy, no way could my voice cut through all that ruckus. At this point, one of the brute-forcers managed to clamber up to my platform. He took a swipe at my knee, but I dodged it and stuck my hand in his chest. All his limbs froze and his chest turned transparent so I could solve his puzzle, as usual. A bunch of weird-shaped tiles appeared and a weird-shaped hole opened in his back. I realized I had to fit the tiles together like puzzle pieces and fill the hole. I did, and all his limbs retracted and he started pulsating. Apparently a bomb was my reward for the solution. I looked around, and a group was getting pretty close to my platform, so I threw my bomb at them. I aimed high and to the left, thought I had wasted my chance, but then the bomb curled in the air and hit the group, blew them right off the wall. I turned around to try and figure out how to cancel all the noise, and that's when it hit me. The first challenge which played off my familiarity with Indiana Jones, my favorite movies. The way the path out of the second challenge opened just before I put the last sword in its slot. The way I could figure out the third challenge because I knew how to read music, and the way the bomb curved to go where I wanted it to go. The act of solving a puzzle is in the mind, so Puzzlemaster was in my head, using what he learned to make the challenges. As soon as I realized that, the TVs became calm, they weren't reacting to noise any more. And I thought the notes. The fans stopped and the brute-forcers stopped moving. Puzzle solved.
D-451 receives light applause and assorted expressions of amazement from the listeners. SCP-3619, whose head is rotating away from D-451, speaks.
SCP-3619: I don't want you to think I'm not paying attention to you, because that is seriously one of the coolest stories I've ever heard.
D-419: Nah man, I get you can't control it. And thanks.
Agent: You ought to be proud. You handled yourself like an absolute pro.
SCP-2842: What happened next?
D-419: Puzzlemaster came down, congratulated me, gave me the prize, and let me out. I got to hand it to the scorpion-looking bastard, when he subjects people to life threatening challenges he does at least give a prize that's good enough to fit the stakes. I can't tell you all what it is, but I can say the Foundation has saved over 30 lives with it.
Agent: Ha, and I bet you think you just happened to get sent here.
D-419: What do you mean?
Agent: I mean that D-Class don't just get assigned to cushy positions like Site-17 by chance. You being here is a reward. Let's go get some more drinks.
The group starts to disperse. SCP-4089 speaks to O5-12, who is smiling.
SCP-4089: Are functions like this one permitted by the Foundation, strictly speaking?
O5-12: Low-risk sapient anomalies are permitted socialization privileges… but in controlled areas, and generally not with staff. So no, this isn't quite up to code.
SCP-4089: Are you aware that parties like this take place?
O5-12: Yes.
SCP-4089: Do you try to stop them from taking place?
O5-12: No, not generally.
SCP-4089: Why is that?
O5-12: Our people are professional and intelligent enough to know how to do it safely, and it's good for morale.
SCP-4089: I think it's more than that. You've seen other universes, many with Foundations of their own. The Foundation needs to be detached and uncaring a lot, but I think you've seen what happens when the Foundation entirely abandons its humanity, kindness, and warmth. And so you turn a blind eye to your contained SCPs being invited to Christmas parties. Is that fair to say?
O5-12: I suppose it is. I also suppose we're moving on now?
SCP-4089 nods, and walks towards a door to the kitchen, and O5-12 follows. Upon opening the door, a bright white light shines through. SCP-4089 and O5-12 walk through.
The two individuals are now standing in a Foundation site, in an apparent state of high alert. A voice plays over the intercom.
Intercom: SCP-6839 has breached containment. Remain in or locate a safe room. Access a computer terminal for anti-cognitohazard therapy if you suspect you've been exposed.
A loud, rhythmic drumming sound is audible, and seems to come from beyond the walls on O5-12's left side.
SCP-4089: I had to adjust this scene, clean up the sound to keep that thing's drumming from being as dangerous as it is. I changed nothing else though. Come this way.
SCP-4089 and O5-12 walk down a hallway and turn a corner, to see the corpse of a Foundation researcher on the floor.
SCP-4089: I don't know how this is connected to Christmas. I was able to find this event, so I know it is somehow, but I couldn't explain whatever chain of cause and effect led to this. Dr. Rafiq here didn't even celebrate Christmas. All I know is that the Dr. Rafiq who went to his friend's Christmas party came up with a way to re-contain that thing in 15 minutes, and this Dr. Rafiq didn't.
O5-12: Why are you showing me this? It doesn't seem like particularly compelling support for your argument, you even admit as much.
SCP-4089: When I first found this, I wasn't going to show it to you, until I realized there may be a lesson to be learned here. You know doubt are familiar with Chaos theory?
O5-12: I am. I think I know where you're going with this.
SCP-4089: In a complicated and interconnected system, any change can have consequences that are hard to predict, and may be felt in places that seem totally unrelated to the original change. The classic example is a butterfly's wing flaps affecting the direction of a tornado. I think the lesson here is that the brain is such a system. Christmas may not seem important to this containment breach, but some memory Rafiq made at the Christmas party led to something, which led to something, and so on, until he has an inspired idea and saves the day. Christmas isn't a butterfly flapping its wings, it's a whole month or more of songs, advertisements, ideas, decorations, social events, and greetings. The repercussions of its loss will be big, and unpredictable, and only get bigger and more unpredictable as time goes on.
O5-12: That's true, but for such a complicated system, one couldn't predict whether or not the effects would be good or bad just as much as one couldn't predict the effects themselves. It's just as likely that the loss of Christmas would end up being helpful in another containment breach.
SCP-4089: I thought of that too, so I did some investigating. I found 49 events where the outcome was affected by the loss of Christmas like this one, and 31 of them were made worse for the Foundation by the loss of Christmas, so it actually does seem like maintaining Christmas is a net positive for the Foundation, when it comes to these kinds of connections. I took some notes on them, I'll give them to you after we return to the real world.
O5-12: That… will be interesting to see.
The drumming sound becomes louder.
O5-12: Seems like we should go.
SCP-4089: I think you're right. Only one more stop to go.
SCP-4089 opens a door to an office, and a bright white light shines through. The two walk through.
O5-12 and SCP-4089 are standing outside, on a street in a suburban neighborhood. It's the evening, and snowing. Several houses on the street are adorned with Christmas lights and decorations. A girl of Japanese descent, approximately 13-14 years of age, walks down the street, crying. She passes a house and the house's door opens. A hispanic girl of similar age comes out the door before chasing after the first girl.
Second Girl: Hey, wait up! It's me, Laura!
First Girl: Oh, hey, what is it?
Laura: What's wrong, what happened?
First Girl: Oh nothing, I just totally blew it with Jerry. Looked like an absolute idiot.
Laura: Hey, well you know what? My older cousin Susana, she told me that stuff like that is almost never as bad as it seems. Jerry's a laid-back guy, I'm sure he doesn't think it was that big a deal, whatever happened.
First Girl: It's not just Jerry. It's everything. My grades have been going down because everything's piling up, I broke my foot, and now it's looking like Dad's going to lose his job again. All in like a month. I'm so sick of it, it feels like God hates me or something.
The first girl starts crying harder, while the second girl tries to comfort her.
Laura: Hey, my family are going to have our Christmas dinner a bit early. You wanna come, if my parents say it's okay? I bet they will!
First Girl: I appreciate the offer, but, you don't need to do that because you feel bad for me.
Laura: This isn't me feeling bad for you, this is just me seeing that you need something good to happen to you right now.
First Girl: Well… Okay. If your parents and my parents are ok with it, I'll come.
Laura: Great, come in so you can call your folks.
The two girls walk into the house. SCP-4089 begins speaking.
SCP-4089: Their parents were okay with it. That girl had a great time. A little thing like a dinner can have a big impact on someone going through a hard time. And eventually she joins the Foundation as a researcher, a good one.
O5-12: So if we contain you, she doesn't get invited to the dinner, and doesn't join the Foundation?
SCP-4089: No. If you contain me, her friend still makes an effort to cheer her up, but not in quite such a memorable way, because there is no dinner to invite her too. But she gets recruited by the Foundation either way. The difference is that the girl who went to the Christmas party came into the Foundation wanting to protect the world.
SCP-4089 walks towards the house's door. Upon opening it, bright white light shines through.
SCP-4089: The girl who didn't, she came into the Foundation wanting to fix the world.
SCP-4089 and O5-12 walk through.
The two are now standing in what seems to be a basement. A man, flanked by two guards is sitting at a table in the room. A woman of Japanese descent in her late 20s enters the room with a messenger bag.
Man: Hey there. Have you got something nice for me?
Woman: Sure do.
The woman places the messenger bag on the table. One guard raises his firearm while the other opens the bag. He pulls out a stack of files that are revealed to be classified Foundation documents on closer inspection.
Man: These are nice, but, and forgive me if I sound demanding, but I was expecting something a bit more substantive.
Woman: Check again. Hidden pocket on the back side.
Upon further inspection, the guard removes a hand sieve, since identified as SCP-3324.
Man: A sieve?
Woman: It's more useful than it looks.
The woman picks the SCP-3324 file out of the pile, and hands it to the man. The man begins to read the file. O5-12 speaks.
O5-12: What's your angle here? Foundation personnel defecting to other groups isn't tremendously uncommon or surprising. Not a strong point to end your argument on. What's special here?
SCP-4089: Nothing gets past you, does it? Yes, there is something special about this particular betrayal. I can't explain myself too much, as I don't wish to interfere with the timeline more than I have to.
SCP-4089 takes a deep breath.
SCP-4089: What I'm about to say, I'm going to say very specifically, so it can be clearly interpreted in light of the geas I'm under. In my sincere opinion, out of all the Foundation employees in history who could have defected to a rival organization, she is the worst possible one for the Foundation.
The man finishes reading.
Man: Very impressive. How do you expect you'll be working for us?
Woman: I think it'd be best for me to continue my work at the Foundation, and feed you information.
Man: We always have a use for moles. Very well. Dr. Mary Nakayama, welcome to the Chaos Insurgency.
The man and woman shake hands and leave the room, followed by the guards.
SCP-4089 walks to a door and opens it. No light seems to be passing through the doorway. O5-12 walks through, and SCP-4089 follows.
The two are now back in the featureless void. The sleigh and SCP-4089-3 instances are present, as they were left.
SCP-4089: Are you ready to return?
O5-12: Yes. Let's go save Christmas.
SCP-4089 smiles. Both walk to the sleigh and get in.
SCP-4089: Say, do you want to take the reigns?
O5-12: Afraid I don't know how to drive a sleigh.
SCP-4089: Don't worry, they know where to go.
SCP-4089 offers the reigns. O5-12 briefly hesitates, before accepting them. She swings the reigns, and the SCP-4089-3 instances begin to gallop and then "take off," carrying the sleigh behind them.
[END LOG]