WELCOME TO THE DARK WEB.

[ashaya]

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. )

Comments

[starguy]

Probably? If I had to guess. It's not like, magic in the air or anything. There's usually a hub with a bunch of machines that handle data and send it off to different places. I think.

[ He does not sound so sure, but then it was the 80s when he left earth so he mostly knows alien tech. But even alien tech has databases and computers, they're just... small. And weird. ]

That's what I'm thinking. This is way too many computers to just be storing information. Usually you only need a terminal for that, not a whole warehouse full of 'em.

[ He pauses as Claude explains his technology -- wow, that's some oldschool stuff. Then again, Peter himself had to learn about technology pretty quickly, so he doesn't judge Claude for not knowing this stuff. ]

Gotcha. I'll tone down the tech-lingo, and keep it simple. [ He gives Claud a thumbs up. ] Uh... basically if someone was trying to set up a 'net that wasn't connected to the one everyone uses, they'd need a lot of machines to run it because it could be getting stuff from people all the time, and people send like videos and that takes up a lot more space than just words, right? And like, you could set up something smaller, but it'd be slower too. The fact that all our comms are instant means whatever the original network runs on, it's pretty good. But I guess it's probably run by whoever hands out the sentences, so I can see why somebody'd want to make their own 'net.

[ Yeah, he still didn't manage to not use tech-lingo. ]

[feintofhart]

[ Claude, a man who has regularly used messenger pigeons in his lifetime, falls silent as he tries to digest what Peter is trying to tell him. It doesn't quite make sense to him, but he doesn't think it ever will. It's not as though he understands how the plumbing works in his home back home either, and he probably never will. It's enough to learn how to use something without knowing exactly how the nuts and bolts work. ]

O-kay. Wow. So basically, someone was leaving code to get others on-board in establishing a private networking system. The basic equivalent of using ciphers back home, I'd imagine. [ He rubs at his chin. ] I have my doubts about the efficacy, considering they can probably see us right now... but it's worth a shot.

[ He turns to Peter then, after a moment's thought, sticks out a gloved hand. ]

Nice to meet you, by the way. We jumped straight into the scavenger hunt and forgot all about niceties, didn't we? Claude von Riegan, at your service.

[starguy]

[ Thatta boy, Claude. Just go with it. Peter couldn't tell you how space travel works, either. He just knows how to fly a ship and fix it enough to keep the sensors from yelling at him. ]

Yeah! I mean, it's basically a cypher. Sometimes the data we send on our devices is cyphered, too. So like, if you wanted to send a secret message, you could send it in a code that only the other device knows how to decode. If they wanna do something like this in secret, they'd probably have to do that.

[ Coded transmissions go a lot further back than Peter would have guessed. Go figure! But he smiles at Claude and happily shakes his hand. ]

Hey, no worries, man! I'm Peter Quill, nice to meetcha, you know, officially. You ever need any tech help, feel free to give me a call!

[ He says that but he knows 80s tech and space tech and no in-between. ]

[feintofhart]

Nice to meet you, Peter -- can I call you Peter? I'm going to call you Peter.

[ His affection for calling people by their first names doesn't tend to go over well where he's from, a land hell-bent on respecting deeds and titles. ]

I may just take you up on that. I may be taking several people up on that, in fact. This world of technology is far broader than I was giving it credit for, when Aldrip went through its first transformation.

[ He moves deeper into the warehouse, openly gawking at the circuitry and wires, stopping short of touching anything; he has no idea what they do (or how electricity could, putting it lightly, fuck him right up), but he can see how it might be dangerous to interfere with it too much. ]

Though maybe you don't know about that transformation at all, depending. When'd you wind up here, anyway? I don't think I've ever seen you around, and I'm a notorious busybody.

[ Case in point: following ciphers to an unusual hidden location, just because he was too nosy to leave it well enough alone. ]