Wasn't there an SCP like this on the original SCP Foundation wiki?
As it's an SCP, I can't but compare it to the style used in Foundation documents - the language is not technical enough, the containment protocol has inconsistencies and unclear passages like "Doors must be opened correctly" ... this being what?
How does it look when the thing reforms?
What are the sources from which they garner the existence of further specimens?
How do you recognise SCP-2089-1?
Why is this a Keter class? I mean, you can burn it, you can lock it up, seems to be containable with moderate effort.
As for the idea itself, it's a grisly murderous undead thing that can't be stopped permanently. This has been done before, ad nauseam.
You could use droid- or robot-controlled ships for the same effect, or even call it a hyperspace-capable torpedo. You actually don't have to have humans on suicide vessels, no? My point is, if you could hyperspace-jump (ordnance or just old boats) into an opponent's ship, it would be a mechanised staple of space warfare. Go to Comment
My first comment is just a trivial grammar issue, one that I note throughout your subs - you confuse its and it's.
Its = belonging to it ("The Cataphract focused its terrible weapons on the arcology.")
It's = it is ("The Cataphract opened fire upon the arcology. It's terrible!")
Another is spelling of foreign words. As above, this applies to multiple articles. Sometimes, it's an established word like "centripetal" that's misspelled. Here, the internet or a spelling checker can help.
At other times, it's a word that is part of a novel composite made up by you. Here, it's up to you to check the component words for optimal spelling.
An idea: from the above, I understand that the Cataphract finds itself often in combat with anti-gravity vessels. It could have a weapon that shorts out anti-gravity drives; this device, while highly efficient at damaging the drives of modern warships, it is never mounted on one, as it would damage the drive of a ship firing it as well, even more so than the target's.
So, there would be quite the irony that the anti-gravity ships that made the Cataphract obsolete are highly vulnerable to it. What do you think? Go to Comment
I like the idea of something so huge being out of sight; of something useless suddenly being a thorn in someone's side. It resonates well with the mecha and kaiju genre, and is right up there with the heli-carrier when it comes to absurdity. As for the imagery, my brain delivered something akin to a Borg cube on tracks, with a huge gun on top - dunno whether that's what you intended. Anyways, solid. Go to Comment
Yup, players would simply use the causality paradox to mess with bushes, and by proxy, with the GM. A good idea, but as said, most useful for fiction unless their prediction is not infallible.
PC: "I cut down a non-blooming bush for firewood."
GM: "Really? >.<" Go to Comment
a) you ma like the Terraforming Mars board game
b) you manage to turn everythign dark, including the noble endeavour of terraforming (this is a compliment)
c) any thoughts on how a mundane-tech version of the cooling tower may work? Or some other tech that would fulfill its function? E.g., solar shades? Go to Comment
I actually used a similar idea a long time ago.
> I shuffled land cards and laid out a country.
> I shuffled enchantments and artifacts and similar cards considered suitable, and drew a plothook.
> I shuffled creatures to get a BBEG and mooks. Go to Comment
Actually, I'd argument that the Asthedrir are quite dissimilar from the Melniboneans - they are pragmatic, secular, and do not give in to hedonism easily (except for some noteworthy exceptions).
What I catch is a Clint Eastwood vibe - "Get off my lawn, goddamn humans."
They are realists. In all but the most naive of fantasy settings, reality has some severe flaws. They are too smart to delude themselves - they take flaws at face value. Which explains their grumpy attitude. I don;t think them angry - rather, they are cold, critical, scathing and abrasive (except towards the rare few who actually deserve respect).
Stimulants, research and work are ways to feel alive, and drive away existentialism.
The above would also explain their cold and uncaring attitude. Let's face it, in the grand scope, a vast majority of humans are replaceable and interchangeable, and the individual matters to those few close to him. So why should the Elves care?
They do not have religion - I can imagine an Asthendir soul being a conscientious objector to the afterlife, refusing to pass the pearly gates (or to whatever form of afterlife).
One trait I would give them is immense willpower, and a lack of need for pink glasses. They can take reality without becoming depressed.
Some of these could use further thought:
> 4: that's not how parrying works
> 15: as written, the Shieldmaiden would have to sleep with the sword on her belt, and similarly would need to retain the sword mid-coitus.
> 18: why would anyone ever want to use this?
> 19 & 20: speaking from personal experience: even in a tight shield wall formation in a choke point, you move *a lot*. Thus, both are horribly bad.
> 22: the power level of this is over the top (this may be intended, but I still had to note). Same applies for 26.
> 27: seems forced, in the vein of "swords have to be able to do everything" Go to Comment
One problem this does not address is the brain's vulnerability to impact that does not pierce the skull (currently working on CTE, had to ask).
Basically, impacts that do not damage the brain still cause concussion, and more severe blows can cause immediate damage (brain contusion, coup- and contrecoup injuries) and delayed damage (CTE, dementia pugilistica).
Can we think of some physical principle that would prevent short-term shutdown of the augmented individual after a head blow, and permanent brain damage from non-penetrating trauma? Go to Comment
Slotted into mechanical bodies, Ghost OS can be rather unpleasant.
I'd add a psychological note - the OS could replace an authority figure for the purpose of removing responsibility for one's own actions, such as in the Milgram Experiment. I'm looking at you, Fury. Go to Comment
A shape-shifter of some sort has taken up a post at the War College of an enemy realm, where he secretly picks off only the most promising officer cadets, arranging bizarre accidents that gradually debase the leadership of the hostile army. In the long run, this will improve his nation's chances when the inevitable conflict comes.
As a shape-shifter he can impersonate superiors and peers alike and send the target candidate to the cleverly-prepared site of his (or her?) execution. As long as he is successful, no-one will ever know about the deception--even necromancy will only implicate the one impersonated...