expiationlogs | WELCOME TO THE DARK WEB.

Entry tags:

WELCOME TO THE DARK WEB.

Who: Spock and anyone interested in the aforementioned technology plot.
Where: Mostly around the port, because you have to really lean into the Gothic Romance of it.
What: Local nerds build a computer and a system of their own to exercise privacy online for everyone with mixed results.
Warnings: TBD. None so far, unless you want to count Spock veering into poeticisms inevitably in metatext.

[ chances are, if you're curious, you've been seeing a handful of ciphers cropping up around aldrip.

they start in places most chosen would frequent, spiral out to areas more remote in the coming days. but, no matter which ones you encounter, they all seem to written in the same hand. the words, if you can call them that, are jumbled in such a way that it looks impossible to unknot at first. but, there's a odd weight across some of these... messages? the letters look strange and, comparing them over time, you'll find a key.

curious, indeed. someone likes vigenère ciphers.

what it shakes out to is a set of coordinates that will lead you squarely to an abandoned warehouse by the pier, a date, and a time. if you're compelled to go on your own, you might find some of your fellows waiting around with you. if you're not? well, maybe you can take a friend just in case.

either way, you'll get your answers one way or another. ]

( ooc: HELLO FRIENDS. first and foremost, please see the comments and the sub-comments below for week blocking and organizational efforts. if you would like to summon me into your comment, just put spock in the subject line or ping me directly on plurk at

askefise or on discord! i'm usually around in some capacity or another.

other than that: have fun! if you need me to help you brainstorm why your blorbo would show up or how, i'm here for you. time for totally fun and normal times that will not end in any abnormal way whatsoever on the 19th. )

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[ The more the merrier, as the Human saying goes.

But, for all that Spock is quite strict about a clean workplace, he doesn't seem to be equally inclined to enforce it across the board. When he is absent or when certain individuals are present, it is evident in the way that he wordlessly tidies their stations once they've become distracted. He makes little fuss about it, even when he seems to be... Delivering sandwiches to some pale hand that descends from the rafters(?).

Whatever. Either way, he's most often focused upon whatever he's working on in the background. Where others have more brilliant and outgoing personalities, Spock is the kind of individual who has always been contented to stand at the sidelines and explore his own studies. As such, the first few times Claude comes around, he doesn't even seem to hear him.

By the third or fourth time, perhaps after some delay, Spock will lift his head from coding. He looks... Well, hard to say. His complexion doesn't resemble a Human's. There's distinctly olive shadows under his dark eyes. ]

My thanks, sir. [ He isn't one to not recognize efforts, at the very least. He pauses, head tipping just so. ] Allow me to assist with distribution efforts.

[ It's the least he can do. ]

Hey, you guys are doing the hard work around here. Being an errand boy while you guys get it all done is the least I can do.

[ He's noticed Spock around here before, of course, not that he even knows his name. He's noticed his pale complexion, his dark eyes, the queer way in which his ears twist to a point (non-human; not unheard of around here, but unusual for one of the Chosen in ways that Claude will never stop finding endlessly fascinating), the way that he dives into his work the same way that Claude knows he himself does when he's worked himself into a stupor, surrounding himself with ledgers and banking notes and scriptures and maps. And so, up til now, he's done precisely what he wants when he's working: he's left the man alone.

That he's crawled out of his work long enough to say hello is more surprising than anything else. ]

You'll know where to put them better than I will, anyway. [ He shifts his load to one arm and sticks a gloved hand out. ] Claude von Riegan. Pleased to make your acquaintance.

Mr. Von Riegan, [ he says, committing the name to memory with the slight inclination of his chin. His voice is smooth and unmodulated, syllables easy off the tongue. It buys Spock enough time to glance between Claude and the proffered hand before he rises, some unspoken debate for the moment undecided. ] Likewise.

[ Typically, this would be where others would cut in, but there is no one about at the moment to save him the effort of evasion. Shoring up his mental shields, he calculates the risk and benefit and lands on adherence to Human ritualistic displays of good will.

He takes his hand politely, firm enough to be considered proper, and finds himself thankful for the barrier the glove provides. If he releases the grip faster than others might, it is not particularly noticeable unless one squints. ] Spock will suffice.

[ His mother couldn't properly pronounce his father's full name for many a year. Even now, he can still recall her silent rumination before she said it, the syllables a war in the Human mouth. ]

Your contributions are no less beneficial, [ he continues, one dark brow twitching upward. He tucks the hand that he'd used to shake Claude's behind his back, extends the other in plain suggestion to take some of the items Claude's secured under his arm. ] I believe the saying goes: "many hands make light work."

[ Claude doesn't notice very much at all about Spock's demeanor, besides a little supposed awkwardness he'd already gleaned from the fact that the man seemingly buried himself in his work and rarely bothered looking up. To be expected of the brainy sort sometimes, Claude thinks, the sort that make for absolutely invaluable advisors and absolutely insufferable dinner parties. As someone who's not too fond of dinner parties himself, it's a quality he can admire in a man. ]

Call me Claude. But hey, it's good to finally meet the infamous Spock! I've already met your Captain a couple of times. [ Jim always seemed ready to accept a cup of coffee from him. Good man. At least now, Spock is willing to lighten his load, and so he hands over an armful of wires and other equipment. ] I hear you're his Chief Science Officer, which I guess is how you wound up setting this whole thing up. I loved the ciphers, by the way. Excellent work, that. I'd be ashamed not to help out such a meticulously-arranged endeavor.

[ A happy coincidence for him. Spock had always been more comfortable on the sidelines, more than willing to extend the time in the limelight to most anyone else. While his reasons are not wholly attributable to the make of his personality, it hardly matters. What does is that he can make an appearance where required. He can play the games of diplomats, can shake out the words between the polished lines. Social gatherings were rarely meant to be enjoyed in his profession, but he goes to them. Reluctantly, at times.

But— ]

Claude, [ Spock corrects, the syllables stiffer off the lips than the former iteration. He'll never use it again unless prompted. Jim has a difficult enough time convincing him to use his own name. ] While I should question your definition of "infamous," it does not surprise that he has already made your acquaintance.

[ It doesn't come across as an insult. In fact, it seems to be a positive assessment. Jim is very personable, easy to like. Mr. Von Riegan seems to have gotten on with him enough that he'd gathered more than passing information. He cants his head, almost cat-like, as he accepts the bundle of wires and various components. It doesn't appear to put any undue strain on him to hold them loosely under his own arm as he positions them, but: ] You are partially correct. The Captain was also instrumental in the organization of this affair. While he will be undoubtedly inclined to claim that I've "done the bulk of the work," my focus was upon the minutiae.

[ He turns, leading more with the dip of his shoulder. Claude seems sharp, so Spock is reasonably sure that he'll take the hint and follow him to where he's been placing out items for consumption. He can hold the bundle for a while with trouble. ]

Thank you, [ he appends, guiding their way through the warehouse. It is a decent size, large enough to get any amount of work they need done in. ] While it seemed a logical avenue to explore for recruitment, I'm not displeased with the additional benefit of discovering similar minds for such communications.

[ It's his way of working out if Claude'll elaborate further on his own seeming interest in ciphers or expand upon what Jim's told him, but either way. ]

You cross the Ts, he dots the Is. I get it.

[ Spock's assessment of Jim is deeply unsurprising. The other man had spoken so glowingly of him that he would be shocked if Spock didn't return those feelings, that hard-won trust; the way he expresses it is a little more stilted, but a flattering appraisal nonetheless. ]

It was you who posted that code to the network too, wasn't it? That was a devil of a thing. We've got some handy mono-alphabetical encryptions back home, but you guys take it to the next level. What you were doing there on the computer practically looked like code in and of itself.

[ He's thinking of a different sort of code, of course. ]

I'd love to learn more underneath less pressing circumstances. This project didn't seem like it needed a beginners touch.

Indeed, [ he confirms, efficiently answering both of his questions. Pulling to an easy stop at (notably) organized table, he sets the bundle Claude had handed him down and begins the process of sorting through each wire and component. ] The Captain and I are fairly acquainted with the ins-and-outs of such technologies.

[ His hands are sure and steady as he divides wires and unknots tangled webs. For someone who works upon a ship, his hands are well-kept, his nails immaculate. ]

Based upon your line of conversation - and doubtlessly your own observations -, he has informed you that he is, to borrow a phrase, quite the "dab hand" in such domains. [ He tips a glance to Claude, turning about with one particularly knotted wire in his hands. It does not seem to trouble him, more that it will require additional patience. He continues to work through it by touch, as he speaks to him. ] I'm fairly certain that you will find no shortage of individuals here who would be willing to teach you once the project is finished. Your foundation of mono-alphabetical ciphers will give you an advantage.

[ And, in saying that, he manages to get the piece untangled. He turns just enough to place it in a designated container before moving on to the next. ]

[ Claude dumps the mess of equipment where it's meant to be and then, with almost studious carelessness, hops onto one of the tables to begin untangling one of the other wires as well. His hands are quick and dexterous, pulling at the entangled strands with a sense of practiced ease. He can function better in the physical world than he can in the digital, more's the pity. ]

I figure I'll bully Jim into it, [ he says blithely. ] I'm sure he'd be willing to offer me a hand. I can always offer him a free sample from work in return -- I run the Apothecary, by the way. Please feel free to stop by if you ever need something a little more natural. But I was rather hoping I'd be able to pick your brain too, especially when it comes to developing ciphers. An extra layer of security never hurts. He told me you were his Science Officer, but I never caught onto what that entailed. Somehow, I didn't imagine that a lot of subterfuge was involved in that sort of thing, but I'm happy to be corrected.

[ In short: he's nosy. Terribly so. ]

[ Typically, this would be where Spock would tell him to get off the table and please mind the rest of his perfectly arranged bits and bobs, but there's something about the mannerisms that make him a touch more lenient. Never mind that there's another guy, ostensibly the same guy they're talking about, potentially doing the same thing somewhere. Spock won't indicate it either way, but he will arch a dark brow at him as he works his way through the mess of wire at his side. ]

You'll find an easy agreement from him, [ he says, his attention shifting naturally to wherever it is Jim at work in the warehouse. Once he's finished here, he thinks, he ought to speak to him about breaking for a period of rest instead of taking on more responsibility. He has the precise length of time Jim's been awake clocked, so he should meet no particular arguments - he continues, eyes flitting to Claude again. ] However, should you find him otherwise occupied, I too am available for such information.

[ He pauses, if only to place one untangled wire into its proper receptacle, before moving onto the next. He'd known Jim had given some information to some parties, so it doesn't surprise him when Claude comes forward with what he does. ] According to its simplest definition, science is the objective study of the physical and natural world. But, the word once was used to encompass any manner of knowledge. Undoubtedly, you have already found that many ciphers rely upon rigid structures and mathematical formulae. [ And it is a comment, because he knows full well he wouldn't be asking if he didn't know this. ] Sciences utilize both. Its intersection is expected, particularly when these studies would be disrupted or abused by unethical parties or by those who would not yet be... [ And he's depositing the next wire into its proper bin. ] Open to its dissemination.

[ Spock is typically about sharing knowledge, but there are always exceptions. For himself and for Starfleet, there are any number of ethical and moralistic issues surrounding disrupting civilizations before they meet the minimum benchmark. ]

As for your apothecary, I believe I may be of some assistance if you are looking for further studies on the current flora of Aldrip.

[ Which is really his way of saying he'd like to stop by. He's a plant guy. ]

Edited 2024-06-01 23:44 (UTC)

Hey, better two teachers than one! I'll be sure to pay you both back handsomely for your troubles, in whatever way I can.

[ Claude has always known the way of the world to be tit for tat; you don't get something for nothing. Lucky for him, he's well-established here, and is happy to pay for the luxury in money, knowledge or goods as it so turns out. He's no longer in the practice of being able to loosen lips and call in favours through access to a treasury alone, but his hustling over the past year has proven to be quite lucrative. ]

And don't get me wrong -- I can see how all this stuff falls into your wheelhouse, so to speak. But by that definition, I'd argue that all things could be categorized underneath the purview of a Science Officer -- save for magic, I suppose, which is a different sort of science altogether. [ Claude says with a light laugh. ] It's to our benefit that you're one for practical applications of your study as well as theoretical applications.

[ He winks at Spock, quick as anything, a coy smile playing at the corners of his mouth before returning to his wires. ]

And I'd be glad to hear your botanical expertise as well as your coding expertise. Maybe I'd be able to teach you a thing or too as well. I've been studying the flora since my arrival. Though if you want to hear about its fauna, you'll have to ask somewhere else. I study only that which doesn't bite back. [ A beat. ] Usually.

Compensation is unnecessary, [ Spock says, almost automatically. Were he Jim, it might have been accompanied with a literal wave off, but he's not quite so expressive. Either way, in his time, currency was digital and largely supplementary. Never mind that his working upon a starship and his own culture exposed him to the sort of cooperative nature of societies. Well, in theory. In practice, Spock had been exposed to a variety of antiquated ideas and prejudices.

Still, as Claude deduces his meaning, he can't quite suppress the subtle uptick at the corner of his lip and the faint raise of his chin. This sort of interaction is soundly in his repertoire, though he can't quite help the very subtle fumble of the wire when Claude winks at him. It's really more of an accidental tug where it ought not to have been. He's gotten praise before certainly and has taken it, but it's - well, he's not entirely used to it in this capacity. He's going to quite adamantly focus on his selected task. He doesn't quite clear his throat, but the concept he might have lingers at the edges of the moment. ]

I believe a famous Terran science fiction author once said: "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." By that measure, it is difficult to say what would fall under your definition. [ Not that he's not heard about magic here before, but there's usually a scientific explanation. Almost always is. And if there isn't one that can be found? Well, they're just not to that level of understanding yet. Anyway: if Claude is particularly observant, he might note how it is that Spock appears to brighten at the prospect of exchanging such detailed notes. It isn't so much with the body, no, but it is visible in the dark of his eyes. They seem to lighten with the bloom of scientific curiosity, seem to appear almost Human for the first time since their conversation started. ] I find the terms of this exchange acceptable, the absence of such eminently aggressive specimens aside.

[ Not that he wouldn't be interested them, he is, but better not to go in unprepared as it were. ]

Well, Mister Science Officer, I'll just have to give you a demonstration and you can tell me whether or not it looks like science to you. An advanced man such as yourself might be able to shed new light on the matter.

[ He personally doubts it. Black magic, Spock may be able to figure out as a sort of science; it's the sort Claude himself has always been better at, depending on his sense of logic and reason, burying himself in tomes and analyzing the runes and chants and the hundred little things that go into managing to summon pure destructive force from within your own body.

But the magic of faith? That, Claude has never been able to muster. He has no faith in the Goddess. And, it seems, she has no faith in him either.

He raises one hand, and a breeze flutters past them. Not enough to disturb any of their work, or to cause any damage -- just enough to blow gently through Spock's hair, a quiet demonstration of the sort of day-to-day magicks that most people in his world use, to preserve their food, or to redirect rain to their crops, or to start a fire in the absence of any flint, the sort everyone relied on more than the destructive techniques people have adopted during wartime.

That said and done, he reaches into his wallet and takes out a business card with the address of his Apothecary on it printed in black, embossed letters. ]

This is where you can find me. Feel free to drop by any time you feel like having a chat and a cup of tea. [ He can tell that Spock is the sort to get right down to business -- but he saw that way he fumbled for a moment, the brightness in his expression at the prospect of having a proper discussion with like minds. He can soften this guy up, he just knows it. ]

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WELCOME TO THE DARK WEB.

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