Chapter Text
Kondraki nearly drops his coffee mug when Bright tells him what happened. He’s always had an inkling about what happened to Clef before he officially joined the Foundation, that he was classified as an SCP for a while, that something happened to him in the past, and that he had some sort of anomalous ability, but he doesn’t know any of the details. If anybody asked, Clef would come up with some story, some lie that changed every time anybody had the courage to question. Apparently the O5 Council knows his past though, because of course they do, and whatever this past was, it led to Kondraki standing outside a newly filled containment cell labeled 4231-B. He swipes his access card and walks into the cell, where his voice catches in his throat.
“Clef?” The man in question turns towards Kondraki, away from the wall he was previously staring at, and looks towards the door.
“Hi, Konny,” for the first time in over 25 years of knowing him, Kondraki hears Clef talk quietly. The normally loud and obnoxious man, always carrying a shotgun and a ukulele with a presence infinitely larger than his short stature, sits as though he is trying to make himself as small as possible. Dark circles are under his eyes and instead of his loud Hawiian shirt, cargo shorts, and hat, he’s wearing the clothing given to most humanoid SCPs. He looks wrong. Nothing like the chaotic man Kondraki is used to seeing, that force of nature.
“Clef, what happened?”
Clef chuckles humorlessly, still half curled up. “They said I’m too dangerous to have this much authority. Hell, they said I’m too dangerous to roam free. So here I am, back in containment. SCP 4231-B, Keter class, considering how well I know the ropes around here. You’d think after 30 years of service, they would have at least let me keep my ukulele.”
He’s trying to sound nonchalant , Kondraki realizes upon looking closer at Clef. His finger nails are digging into his legs so hard that Kondraki is surprised that he’s not bleeding. His jaw is clenched when he’s not talking and he looks scared . Clef is never scared.
“I’ll, uh, see what I can do to get you your ukulele back. Are you sure you’re ok?”
“I’m fine,” Clef says quickly. Too quickly. Something is definitely wrong. After decades of knowing Clef, though, Kondraki knows there’s no way he’s getting anything else out of him.
“Ok. Goodbye, then, Clef. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye Konny. See you tomorrow.”
____________________________________________________________________________
Dear Dr. Kondraki
This is an official reminder from the O5 Council regarding your interactions with SCP 4231-B. SCP 4231-B is a powerful reality bender in containment because of its unstable nature and homicidal tendencies. It is not a Foundation researcher or other form of personnel. It is not “Alto Clef” and we ask for you to refrain from calling it by that name under threat of being unable to interact with it. Furthermore, your interactions with SCP 4231-B are to be limited to one 15-minute time block at 5:15 on Friday evenings. All other interaction is unauthorized. You are also forbidden from giving it access to any items without approval. This list of items includes, but is not limited to the following:
- Ukuleles
- Clothing not approved for humanoid SCPs
- Weaponry of any kind
- Communication devices
As an employee for several decades, we know that you understand our reasoning and you will heed these reminders. Official consequences will befall you if you do not.
-O5-1
He wants to tear up the letter when he sees it on his desk the next day. He wants to strangle each and every member of the council with his bare hands. It’s only Tuesday. Clef was only in containment for a few hours when Kondraki saw him the previous day, and he already looked awful. All he can hope for is that Clef can hold out in between his visits.