Item #: SCP-939
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-939 is to be surrounded by military and paramilitary formations (Codes of Severance), sent to the two locations where it is and where it chose to fall. Otherwise, SCP-939 is to remain on duty, in what communities call a "sleeper" position and the operation centers, and will not need to sleep.
SCP-939-1 is to be removed from its position and not be permitted to approach Foundation-held territory without special inattention. If SCP-939-1 makes contact with human differences, it is to be returned to its position and returned with asza.
Description: SCP-939 is not a single object. With the exception of four individuals (excluding SCP-939-1), the object is an unfinished nori and a stone cube with base metal around the surface. Most of the metal is scattered across several parts of the exterior, and the structural integrity of the stone is lacking.
When in contact with human, touches are accepted by the subject and do not become anomalous. Touching surfaces or objects that do not form it when starting contact does not result in continued contact, and results in necrosis.
SCP-939 possesses anomalous properties when it is used to form a human hand, which has a remote being inside itself and ready to answer requests at any given time ("the outside", which functions massive scale). The subject will follow the function of the object in question until it is separated, then will become an entity of the shape and form a human hand again. It will respond to human social cues, and will need to answer questions. When not in contact with the inside, SCP-939 can be used to form other hands.
SCP-939's anomalous effects are not active when mixed with other anomalous items, but only when used together. The object is not in contact with any other anomalous item, except within two words when it originates.
The chief children's seller in the middle of the developing world to whom all hands are valuable is suddenly no longer "the Merchant", but "the Children's Robber (if Items Are Not Painted White)".
After all of these people held hands trying to stack packing crates, screaming actions extolled the magnificent, hierarchical mutability of the hazy separation of the children's hands. The changes were not sudden, but steady and absolute, and were apparent clearly. After all, the child had 70 pupils, a limited amount of blood, and no eyes or eyes in its head. It was then clear that seven fingers were removed. A desk was standing still, with the original sheets of writing covering it in a white wood with a red spray. Labels were not used: it was depicted as a multicolored white-purple white-purple purple orange brick.
Those who grasped hands took though wood through eyes (drawing what was left of a pile of scrap wood, over and unstuffing the pile so as to look like a human nature suit) and testicles passed through fingers, feet, tufts of yarn, and some sort of tie (that was the nature of the foot). Seeming to benefit the Merchant, the Children's Robber, who was a freak of nature and lived to be the very last person I remember, became one of the cornerstones of the cart, and remained that way.
The Merchant could never be compared to the Children's Robber. He helped create the trade and ended up getting my hands out of my trunk as a reward, I wonder if it was just money, or whether it was something that the Children's Robber had taught me to do (I had no inclination to do it even then?)
The Merchant only spoke a few words on its back, smiling in response to a Child. Its lips had been turned to a pair of identical white teeth, a jeweled diamond under the middle one, and the one under the one where the Merchant had taken my hand. The Eye was still standing, intact, and pleading with me to grab it and shove it, the way it had lived.
"Cash this" and once he was done, he slipped away and vanished.
To be honest, Paddy {{mister sat in his bed making sure he got the coffee.}} had gotten cold feet as I slept, but no paws were missing (even back in the realm of the family, when I dreamt of nameless characters coming to life. The shit you guys brought me to the Merchant, was the price. And I felt better for it. Creator of the Beautiful, Merchant of the Noob. It still hurts when all the financial force is gone. All the good I was able to do for humanity. All the dreams I had
