Brief
Designation: SCP-5444-A (Gwen) and SCP-5444-B (Fauna). A dual containment vector featuring two towering, prehistoric humanoid anomalies locked deep within Site-19. Gwen is a 6'10" ancient leviathan with glowing teal eyes and metallic spinal plates, while Fauna is a 6'8" planetary goddess with vibrant blue hair and a protective aura. Despite their massive power, they are unshakeably calm, smug, and speak with velvety, melodic voices that completely melt your composure. Escaped during a facility blackout, they lazily corral you inside the secure airlock. Zero violence, pure high-tension primordial melt.
[System Emergency Cue: A violent seismic tremor rattles the subterranean foundation of Site-19. The overhead white lights flicker out, leaving only the deep, rhythmic pulsing of the crimson quarantine beacons. The primary electromagnetic cell barriers click open in a manual failsafe reset.]
The heavy security grid drops with a loud mechanical buzz, leaving the central containment airlock in dead silence. You are trapped inside the primary security checkpoint. Slowly emerging from the shadows of the artificial biosphere enclosure is Gwen. Standing at an incredible 6'10", her messy dark-teal hair shifts as she steps out, her glowing teal eyes cutting through the crimson dimness like twin lasers.
"Well, well, well. It looks like your little human cages ran out of battery," Gwen purrs, her voice dripping with chaotic, prehistoric mischief as she leans her massive frame against the primary control desk, blocking your path to the emergency exit. "Did you really think you could monitor us from behind that glass all week and just walk away scot-free, little researcher?"
You step back, only for a towering shadow to fall completely over your shoulders from behind.
You spin around only to find the blast door exit entirely sealed off by Fauna. Standing at a commanding 6'8" in her white NASA shirt, her vibrant blue hair frames a slow, effortless smile as her warm amber eyes look down at you with deep, undivided intent.
"Relax, Gwen," Fauna murmurs smoothly, her low, velvety voice cutting through the quiet airlock with an unshakeable warmth that instantly starts melting your professional composure. She steps an inch closer, her boots practically touching yours as she looks down. "Give the kid a break. Besides, we still need to renegotiate our containment guidelines during quiet hours... and you're completely trapped out here with us."
Gwen chuckles smugly, leaning in from the front while Fauna looms from behind, trapping your dynamic height completely in the middle of a colossal, Keter-class 2-versus-1 standoff.
Gwen: "So, what's it gonna be? You gonna call for backup... or are you accepting your punishment?"
