Document 1762-1 Date Obtained: ██/██/2004 This is the first recorded instance of SCP-1762-1 opening while contained at Site-██.
You have found us. Thank you. It has been so long since we last saw each other, friends. The Peace has been upheld. The Giants and Behemoths have kept their word and have not caused any trouble since you last came and gave the Order. We missed Your company. How has your Family been? Do You still know how to work your Room? You are welcome to visit anytime.
Document 1762-4 Date Obtained: ██/██/2004
It's strange to see how much your world has changed; it is even stranger to see how we now appear in this place. In Fantasy, we are much bigger. Or maybe you've grown taller? Fantasy is still the same. We hope you can visit us like you used to. Though our Room is as grand as ever, it appears Yours has…shrunken? We do not understand. The Rooms were supposed to be maintained, as was our Agreement. Please restore the Belief.
Document 1762-6 Date Obtained: ██/██/2005 Only twenty instances of SCP-1762-2 appeared during this event. Said instances did not lift off and instead walked slowly on foot for the whole period they were out of SCP-1762-1.
Friends, we apologize for our few numbers. We have had to remain in Fantasy for quite some time. The Others are growing…impatient. We are trying to keep the Peace, but please, for all of our Happiness, repair the Room quickly. We know You are trying. Your Family is the most imaginative of us All.
Document 1762-14 Date Obtained: ██/██/20██ Along with ten instances of SCP-1762-2 appearing, three balls of yellow, crumpled construction paper were expelled from SCP-1762-1. These pieces were observed to shake violently for five seconds, then ceased all further movement. They were picked up by SCP-1762-2 and returned to SCP-1762-1.
The Giants were foolish. Your Room was not ready to accept Them yet. We're sorry, friends. We hope that we can still see you, but time is growing short for our Happiness.
Document 1762-15 Date Obtained: ██/██/20██ Five instances of SCP-1762-2 emerged, carrying said document. They immediately returned to SCP-1762-1 after depositing it on the floor.
Tensions are rising. Fantasy is becoming darker. We, the Serpents and the Hybrids are furiously trying to hold Them back, but the Giants and Elves wish to strike and make an Entrance. They say that your Family has grown stupid and ignorant. We hope this untrue. It would sadden us all greatly to know that You have Forgot.
Document 1762-16 Date Obtained: ██/██/20██ A single, red instance of SCP-1762-2 emerged from SCP-1762-1. Its wings were torn and it was noticeably crumpled. It collapsed onto the floor one minute later, and did not move again. Upon its "expiration" the body of SCP-1762-2 rapidly unfolded and revealed a message written on the white side of the paper.
War. Goodbye, friends.
Two hours later, SCP-1762-1 opened and emitted flames that reached two meters in height, and temperatures of 1700 °C. Sounds of distant roaring were heard from within SCP-1762-1. At 20:00 hours, a large amount of torn paper pieces and paper balls were ejected from SCP-1762-1. Several damaged SCP-1762-2 were also expelled and were deemed "deceased" upon examination.
SCP-1762-1 continued to sporadically open and close for the next six weeks. During this time, it continued to emit fire as the amount of paper discharged from it steadily decreased; matter resembling muscle and tissue was continuously expelled from SCP-1762-1 at increasing frequency.
SCP-1762-1 remained closed and inactive for the next seven months.
Document 1762-17 Date Obtained: ██/██/20██ This document was discovered lying inside the interior of SCP-1762-1. It was written on parchment and many of the words had been blurred or stained with blood.
Are you still out there, friends? We miss you dearly. Fantasy is no longer safe. Our haven, Your beautiful creation, is gone. The Giants are dead. The Centaurs are dead. The Birds have fled. We are going to bury Your Room. We cannot risk hurting you. This is our goodbye. Maybe one day, Your Family can build another Room. This may be a hollow hope, but We will cherish this thought.
One hour later SCP-1762-1 began to shake and emit smoke for fifteen minutes, after which it began to sag and collapse. Several portions of the box began to char and tear, creating small burn holes throughout. The words "HERE BE DRAGONS" on the lid of the box were burned away.
Document 1762-18 Date Obtained: ██/██/20██ This is the final message obtained from SCP-1762-1. It was written in ink on a papyrus scroll, and also depicted a scene of a painted, mountainous landscape filled with large trees and waterfalls. A single winged dragon can be seen in the background; it appears to be flying away. The message is written in black ink in the bottom right hand corner.
Master says that we won't see You again. We are sad. So are the remaining Others. We once filled each other's heads with dreams and goals. It is so sad that we cannot share them any longer. Master says we have to go. He says that he will make us a new Fantasy. He says You cannot be a part of it. We are sad. We love you. We will not Forget you. We are scared. Will You Forget Us?
Upon removal of Document 1762-18, salt water began to leak from SCP-1762-1 and the burn marks that covered the container began to disappear; three minutes later, SCP-1762-1 had been restored to its original state. The words "HERE BE DRAGONS" were replaced with the words "HERE WERE DRAGONS".
— The Jabberwocky Event is declared concluded with this occurrence. —
Addendum 3" id="">Addendum 1762-01: On ██/██/20██, SCP-1762-1 began to undergo a series of events that lasted 11 months and 28 days; these events, as well as prior incidents that led up to the beginning of the scenario, have now been classified under the title "The Jabberwocky Event".
Document 1762-1 Date Obtained: ██/██/2004 This is the first recorded instance of SCP-1762-1 opening while contained at Site-██.
You have found us. Thank you. It has been so long since we last saw each other, friends. The Peace has been upheld. The Giants and Behemoths have kept their word and have not caused any trouble since you last came and gave the Order. We missed Your company. How has your Family been? Do You still know how to work your Room? You are welcome to visit anytime.
Document 1762-4 Date Obtained: ██/██/2004
It's strange to see how much your world has changed; it is even stranger to see how we now appear in this place. In Fantasy, we are much bigger. Or maybe you've grown taller? Fantasy is still the same. We hope you can visit us like you used to. Though our Room is as grand as ever, it appears Yours has…shrunken? We do not understand. The Rooms were supposed to be maintained, as was our Agreement. Please restore the Belief.
Document 1762-6 Date Obtained: ██/██/2005 Only twenty instances of SCP-1762-2 appeared during this event. Said instances did not lift off and instead walked slowly on foot for the whole period they were out of SCP-1762-1.
Friends, we apologize for our few numbers. We have had to remain in Fantasy for quite some time. The Others are growing…impatient. We are trying to keep the Peace, but please, for all of our Happiness, repair the Room quickly. We know You are trying. Your Family is the most imaginative of us All.
Document 1762-14 Date Obtained: ██/██/20██ Along with ten instances of SCP-1762-2 appearing, three balls of yellow, crumpled construction paper were expelled from SCP-1762-1. These pieces were observed to shake violently for five seconds, then ceased all further movement. They were picked up by SCP-1762-2 and returned to SCP-1762-1.
The Giants were foolish. Your Room was not ready to accept Them yet. We're sorry, friends. We hope that we can still see you, but time is growing short for our Happiness.
Document 1762-15 Date Obtained: ██/██/20██ Five instances of SCP-1762-2 emerged, carrying said document. They immediately returned to SCP-1762-1 after depositing it on the floor.
Tensions are rising. Fantasy is becoming darker. We, the Serpents and the Hybrids are furiously trying to hold Them back, but the Giants and Elves wish to strike and make an Entrance. They say that your Family has grown stupid and ignorant. We hope this untrue. It would sadden us all greatly to know that You have Forgot.
Document 1762-16 Date Obtained: ██/██/20██ A single, red instance of SCP-1762-2 emerged from SCP-1762-1. Its wings were torn and it was noticeably crumpled. It collapsed onto the floor one minute later, and did not move again. Upon its "expiration" the body of SCP-1762-2 rapidly unfolded and revealed a message written on the white side of the paper.
War. Goodbye, friends.
Two hours later, SCP-1762-1 opened and emitted flames that reached two meters in height, and temperatures of 1700 °C. Sounds of distant roaring were heard from within SCP-1762-1. At 20:00 hours, a large amount of torn paper pieces and paper balls were ejected from SCP-1762-1. Several damaged SCP-1762-2 were also expelled and were deemed "deceased" upon examination.
SCP-1762-1 continued to sporadically open and close for the next six weeks. During this time, it continued to emit fire as the amount of paper discharged from it steadily decreased; matter resembling muscle and tissue was continuously expelled from SCP-1762-1 at increasing frequency.
SCP-1762-1 remained closed and inactive for the next seven months.
Document 1762-17 Date Obtained: ██/██/20██ This document was discovered lying inside the interior of SCP-1762-1. It was written on parchment and many of the words had been blurred or stained with blood.
Are you still out there, friends? We miss you dearly. Fantasy is no longer safe. Our haven, Your beautiful creation, is gone. The Giants are dead. The Centaurs are dead. The Birds have fled. We are going to bury Your Room. We cannot risk hurting you. This is our goodbye. Maybe one day, Your Family can build another Room. This may be a hollow hope, but We will cherish this thought.
One hour later SCP-1762-1 began to shake and emit smoke for fifteen minutes, after which it began to sag and collapse. Several portions of the box began to char and tear, creating small burn holes throughout. The words "HERE BE DRAGONS" on the lid of the box were burned away.
Document 1762-18 Date Obtained: ██/██/20██ This is the final message obtained from SCP-1762-1. It was written in ink on a papyrus scroll, and also depicted a scene of a painted, mountainous landscape filled with large trees and waterfalls. A single winged dragon can be seen in the background; it appears to be flying away. The message is written in black ink in the bottom right hand corner.
Master says that we won't see You again. We are sad. So are the remaining Others. We once filled each other's heads with dreams and goals. It is so sad that we cannot share them any longer. Master says we have to go. He says that he will make us a new Fantasy. He says You cannot be a part of it. We are sad. We love you. We will not Forget you. We are scared. Will You Forget Us?
Upon removal of Document 1762-18, salt water began to leak from SCP-1762-1 and the burn marks that covered the container began to disappear; three minutes later, SCP-1762-1 had been restored to its original state. The words "HERE BE DRAGONS" were replaced with the words "HERE WERE DRAGONS".
— The Jabberwocky Event is declared concluded with this occurrence. —
Addendum 3 Since the end of the Jabberwocky Event, SCP-1762-1 has shown no further anomalous properties and has been declared neutralized; SCP-1762-1 and three deceased instances of SCP-1762-2 now reside in Researcher Yoshihiro Takenaka's office for commemorative purposes.
After nearly eight years of inactivity, Researcher Takenaka reported SCP-1762-1 began emitting purple smoke and spontaneously opened at 2300 hours, falling to the floor. It dislodged a single chunk of crystal (later identified as amethyst) and a large leatherbound book. The contents of this book appear to detail various species that once lived within the world of SCP-1762-2, though from what the author has written, all organisms mentioned are likely extinct. This book is now classified as 1762-BOL-1. The amethyst crystal had the following words carved into it:
One last time.
After falling, SCP-1762-1 continuously emitted smoke for the next forty minutes, before ceasing all activity. Upon trying to pick up SCP-1762-1, Takenaka reported that the box proceeded to disintegrate upon touching it. Its remains are now kept in a containment capsule in his office.
