Airian

Isaac: Heh... it appears you have fallen for my tricks. *sporadically transforms into 035*

Jacobs: Dear God.

Jacobs: That's hot.

Angelos: Nope.

Jacobs: *shrieks lawnmower* who in HELL are you??

Angelos: I'm Angelos and welcome to the concept void. The place where ideas either rise or fall.

Jacobs: Jesus— slow down with your talking will you–?

Angelos: You, Jacob Jacobs, are now part of an Alternate Universe with me as we struggle with nonexistence!

Jacobs: You sound lonely.

Jacobs: Also, what alternate universe?

Yeah I'm here to give my report on the subject. Over the course of one interview with SCP 343, it has led to not only the hospitalization of 05 Jacobs, but with Watch over here became the Site Director, making future documentation of his abilities more needlessly complicated woo hoooooo.

*sigh* but on a serious note, the subject's newfound position may benefit us if we play right. Setting off a few security breaches may sound tempting but I have a better idea. All I need is the "OK" to proceed.

The man would stand in place for some time trying to recollect his thoughts. He tried to think beyond the questions he has been asking himself. Trying to ground himself to something familiar; trying to remember and desperately so. Who was he before he got here? Where even is this place? Does anyone wonder where he is?

Does someone remember him?

Watch: Man, I can't believe I'm actually outside. Not like in a mission or anything– I'm ACTUALLY outside!

Amnesty waiting for plot relevance in newer seditions:

Jacobs: Isaac I've essentially been erased from existence and no one is really aware of my presence except for you because you're the protagonist of sedition. also I'm bisexual.

Isaac: dang

New Era 035: Heh! it seems my plan to get watchy all to myself has worked!

I've kept two journals in my life.

The first one I had was given to me from one of my old caretakers (possibly one of the few good experiences I had with them) because of a suggestion from the guiding councilor of my old school regarding my behavior. By all means; it was done out of obligation, and I didn't bother with the thing for a while until things at home and school started going downhill. I don't want to get into detail of what happened but in short: my journal was thrown away after they found it, and I got a nasty beating that left me sore for a few days. Really speaks about how people are when others acknowledge how awful they are.

My second journal was a present from my sister; she had been saving up all of her allowance to get it for me after my old one got trashed. Wasn't anything fancy: soft covered, decent amount of pages, paper quality was pretty nice for its price, but it was something Evelyn had sacrificed part of herself for me. I couldn't hold back the tears.

I hid it inside a shoebox inside my closet and always brought it with me to school. I always rambled on about what happened that day like you would a drinking buddy: life, your experiences, people, everything. I still wonder if it's still in that shoebox when I ran away. Chances are that it either got thrown away, or they decided to donate my furniture, and someone is just out there reading my mind. Honestly, I kinda hope it's the latter.

And this, the one I'm writing in right now, is my third journal. I don't really know how to start it (even though I've been here talking about the other two) but it's always hard trying to start something new. You always tend to bring up the old to get somewhere, not realizing that it's dragging you down.

I guess I'll just talk about how I feel today: absolutely shitty. There's a monstrous amount of paperwork in my office, and I frankly don't have the time or patience for it. I wish I got someone to help me with, but the only people I can go to is either hospitalized, a pathological liar, a pretentious witch doctor, or God. Fucking hell.

Took my meds and felt dizzy for a good while; it's been a while since I've had them. I don't really know what to add here. I'll probably have to consult medical about my dosage though (and quick. I'd rather not talk to them about my feelings.)

I have contemplated on writing and sending this letter to you for a while now, but, given my current conditions, I may as well write it now while I still have the strength in me. You know how the medical staff are; zealous with their duties. It took me about half an hour to convince one of the interns to give me a pen and paper. Kept talking about how I needed to focus on myself first before my duties. He can suck it for all I care. I can finally tell you what been on my mind for the past few weeks.

My condition, for one, is mostly stable. The early days have been tough as you already know. I still can't walk though and it's been annoying. Most of the time it's the same cycle of waking up, medical examinations, meals, baths, and the respite of sleep. I wish the medical staff gave me something to do so I don't lose my mind over the monotony of it all (you can already tell it's taken its toll on me) but no because it would "strain and tire my mind more than it already is." Bullshit.

Secondly, how are you adjusting to your new position? I imagine you rolling your eyes at that question. Whether you like it or not isn't a mystery to me because of the sort of person you are, Isaac, even before we formally met (I'm sure you can piece together the details: files and all. I'm beginning to lose steam here.)

And lastly, I hope you're doing well. Job as the Site Director is tough, I know that, but I hope you remember that you don't need to shoulder all the weight. There is just so much I just can't put into words; but I want to get this clear to you, Isaac. There will always be someone to love you.

Yours Forever, Until the End of Time,