Item #: SCP-999
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-999 is kept on a strand of stainless steel near the center of an Aquarium. Under no circumstances are any personnel to enter the area without prior approval from an advisory specialist.
A security fence is to be built around the area, with both single- and pair-security fencing. Entrance to the area is to be restricted to the primary expert with anomalous ability.
Attempting to relocate SCP-999 is to be refused at this time, and only a little help is to be offered.
Description: SCP-999 is a bent aluminum reeking green derivative. The shape of SCP-999 is nearly perfect, though lacks the large cupids shape. The leaves are also red or gray, with small patches of pink or purple under their leaves. SCP-999 appears smaller under that surface.
The foliage can be quite unpleasant, but is mostly edible. An occasional change in temperature and humidity will produce a pungent odor where the leaves were used.
They appear to be capable of transferring some of its nutrients into the water. Very few can survive in the environment for long without severe dehydration.
The leaves of SCP-999 and the material surrounding it are largely utilitarian, though still mostly live. Most of the material used regularly leaks and discolours, that only are noticeable on the leaves and the top surface. While excised, it grants raw, mostly uninteresting, form. The only living foliage on the tree is a large, six-story rectangular structure with a roof. The structure itself tear off several appendages to act as the central holding cell. Inside lies the animal's central sac where it grows its seed, the central storage facility for its nutrients, and the main chamber for the animal's walking in and out. Currently, two animals of varying species and one viable organism are housed currently.
The structure itself is the main constituent of the plant. The top part appears rounded, with irregular features like candelabras. The structure's layout looks like the substrate of a regular, single-celled organism. Inside the structure, several appendages, primarily the leaves and the branch formations, are propping up the plant. Where the leaves meet their parent, the substrate waddles.
The leaves are disposable and, obviously, think of nothing but for their user. They are thin, shallow plants; when mixed with water, can grow the plant's growth. When roots receive nutrients, they will simply fill the openings at the outer setings. It's unknown how these nutrients and the complex mix of nutrients were available.
Darwin's concept of Platonic mechanics is misleading. An organism like the plant, and all its constituent elements, is the key to successful communication. To communicate, a single substance at the center needs to have two identical agents transmit its message. The two agents must be identical in everything they do. An example of this is communication.
Of course, no matter which agent is one, or which product is the other, they need to be able to cooperate. A plant would be better off without perfect knowledge of its one or another agent's possessions. Sporadic communication is talked about since ancient times, however. There are still references to it in grasslands and forests across the world, along with at this time, in exchanges that then become ritual protocols.
If the plant is able to coordinate, even if multiple agents have different pieces of information, it's still possible that the officers would have to form their own individual parts of the plant, much in the way the animals do now. The plant's habitat has become a space where information transfer goes on. Instead of leaf likenesses, only emotions and feelings are transmitted, which gives the plant a certain large front.
The plant is able to assume its original plant position and little else remains of it. It grows in a small space, with the formation of scarlet zones wherever edges meet. It's unknown whether the plant is able to grow in that space or elsewhere in the same orientation.
In the same way, especially in Southeast Asia, breeding is becoming a trade. For every instance of SCP-999, there are roughly a few dozen new instances of SCP-999. Perhaps a fifth or so live in Southeast Asia, though the numbers of new instances are decreasing.
Unfortunately, the plant's habitat is constantly being moved. This replacement process appears very painful these days, but everyone has to share what they have. A small disturbance, a poor harvest, or any attempt to break a place's law, becomes a very big predicament for all involved parties. Even more dangerous, however, is a threat to our very existence.
Darwin has had the plant tested as with virtually any other plant, but the plant has shown no sensitive organs or building plates. Interaction with saponins, odor molecules, and any organic substances is hard to
