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[dow]

Greetings. I am Commander Spock of the USS Enterprise, a Starfleet contingent of the United Federation of Planets. I understand that we are temporally isolated as well as spatially displaced and that this is not a subdivision of any one possible multiverse, neither a pocket dimension of any one universe, but a unique quantum singularity linking many and each possible variation thereof. If others here have scientific findings of this nature, I pre-emptively extend my gratitude in the event of any information being divulged.

[ AKA pls share ur theories. He's not human, in case anyone with eyes and ears missed the blatant memo staring them in the face, the approximation of what would happen were a dollop of raw science and a great jawline to get mixed with an elf in a blender. Spock pauses thoughtfully, glancing away, and a single slender brow arches when he looks back; there are likely a great deal of customs to be observed from numerous new species and races, none of which he seeks to offend. ]

It has been brought to my attention that this is not my first foray into Keeliai. While I would request that you exert a measure of patience with my ... freshly acquired outlook, you will find me amenable to revisiting former acquaintances. [ Again he hesitates, though this time it comes across as more of an amendment. If you've been hanging out with his BFF, prepare to explain why, how and to what end. ] Similarly, I wish to meet with any and all allies of Captain James T. Kirk at their earliest convenience.

All remaining Starfleet personnel are to submit a fully comprehensive report effective immediately regarding their time here. Audio will suffice, given the circumstances.

[ And off goes the feed. ]

Comments

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[dow]

I fail to understand how M-theory directly relates to a lack of increase in peers. Neither is "super freaked out" — [ is he being wry or pedantic, we'll never know ] — an option for any variation of response as I am Vulcan, a race which eschews emotion and renders your concerns moot.

[ Half-Vulcan, but there's no need to go discussing personal matters. ]

You do not have cause to appear distressed, Mr. Stiles.

[ Relax, kid. You don't have to be nervous around him unless he demands an essay off you, someday. Then you have leave to weep. ]

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[skybluejeep]

Okay, well. I'm still gonna lock it from general consumption.

Here's my thought; we're all fictional. You, me, everybody on this turtle. But we're also real. Really real. Which means that every story, every popular show, every movie from one world, represents a flesh and blood person on another.

Now I'm not sure if we're created by the writers entirely, or if we're already real and authors have some sort of collective unconscious tap across dimensions. I lean more toward the latter, since the human brain is known to have tons and tons of untapped potential. I think that for every new form of "entertainment" there is, there's another world waiting to be seen.

[And he beams at Spock with a smug little grin. Hi, he's killer smart and obsessive and puts way too much thought into stuff.]

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[dow]

That is one possible iteration and the basic concept of M-theory. You are correct, Mr. Stiles. [ He waits patiently. ] Do you have anything further to add?

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[skybluejeep]

Um. No, not really. I mean, logical conclusions to be drawn, that's all.

I'm just waiting for the day that somebody tells me they've seen me on a television show or something.

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[dow]

Logical, but obvious. From which Terran year are you?

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[skybluejeep]

[Oh god don't ask that question about Teen Wolf characters shhhh.]

Two thousand twelve.

...Wait what do you mean, obvious? If I brought that up around anybody else, they'd probably have a heart attack!

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[dow]

[ That's so long ago, it explains a lot. ]

I am not in the habit of apologizing for retaining my composure when students cite rote chapters of first-year academy textbooks in spatial displacement theory. Since your timeline is inconsistent with twenty-third century literature, however, your astonishment is unsurprising.

In the event that you wish for me to roll around bemoaning the situation you have posited, I must inform you that Vulcans do not lie.

[ Nor is Spock going to pretend to have a heart-attack, if the implementation of his Instructor's Voice is any indication. There's a reason all his students were intimidated. ]

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[skybluejeep]

[Stiles gets this look on his face. No, Teacher Voice doesn't faze him in the least. In fact, he just gets sassier whenever figures of authority talk down to him.]

Oh, of course. Well, I'll just take my caveman brain back to my cave, where I'll hang out with Og and Grog and think up more "obvious" ideas that are literally centuries ahead of my time. Gosh, I hope my mammoth dinner doesn't have any bones in it tonight.

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[dow]

Your own deference to sarcasm suggests that you believe your mental faculties to be deficient, something I have not commented on. If you are incapable of assuming constructive criticism, I suggest you refrain from commenting on topics in which you are not yet adept.

[ No qualms about cutting down someone using that tone, his own cooling though it remains evenly paced. ]

I have concurred with you on your theory, Mr. Stiles. It was correct. If you are seeking an audience that will pander to your ego, however, you would indeed do better to look elsewhere.

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[skybluejeep]

No, my deference to sarcasm is the result of interacting with a condescending D-bag. See, you say you get it. But you don't really get it.

All that fan-fiction of Kirk taking care of you during your pon farr, is that real too? In some universe somewhere, is he your t'hy'la? Because lots of writers posit just that.

I can keep going if it helps make my point sink in.

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[dow]

[ Congrats, Stiles, you broke the Vulcan. ]

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[dow]

[ One very green Vulcan, once a lengthy five-second silence is in effect. Pon Farr and — that — are intensely private affairs with the latter shrouded in antiquity and reverence. Precisely how a callous teenage human came by the knowledge is clearly worth as little as the revelation that yes, somewhere, everyone has a fictional life. It doesn't particularly bother him; as concepts go, it isn't the worst.

But the words are mangled by a spiteful Terran tongue and he doesn't know, for that short, shocked gap of yawning silence, what to say. It's so entirely left-field that Spock blinks back into himself. ]

You will not speak in this manner again. Certainly not of Captain Kirk.

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[skybluejeep]

[He's not proud. Just learn the lesson here, Commander: DON'T talk down to Stiles Stilinski. He will end you.]

Uh huh. See why I say I keep this sort of thing to myself? Trust me, I'm sure there are people out there writing about me taking it up the tailpipe from god-only-knows who. Probably my best friend, which oh my god no.

That's what my point was. It's one thing to say it's M-Space or whatever. It's another to totally grasp the thing. To understand that everything creative is literally another world. In the beginning was the word...

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[dow]

[ There's more heat behind the words a second time, dismissing the adolescent bluster in the wake of his culture being yanked from underfoot by a child who understands nothing. ]

You will remain silent in these matters. They are not for the casual amusement of others in this reality.

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[skybluejeep]

[He rolls his eyes. Oh god, an embarrassed Vulcan. Great.]

Aaaaand you're still not getting it. And you're supposed to be the logical one.

How do you think I know these things? Trust me, it ain't because I'm psychic. I'm not the only one who knows these things here. I won't say a freakin' word, Commander. I don't need to. I will bet you money there are at least three dozen closet Trekkies on the Turtle.

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[dow]

Mr. Stiles.

Given the previous topic at hand, I understand exactly how you came to know of these subjects and suggest you cease glorifying what is clearly arrogant obliviousness in yourself. Immediately.

[ What the heck is a Trekkie fffnghh never mind. HE DOESN'T CARE RIGHT NOW, CULTURE OFFENDED!! ]

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[skybluejeep]

[He sighs, and rubs a hand down his face. Ugh this was so not how he saw this conversation going at all. His little nerd heart is honestly a little broken now.]

Fine. I'm sorry.

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[dow]

I do not require an apology from you.

[ Because he doesn't value it, implied by his curt tone. With that, Stiles gets what he wants in the form of the last word and Spock ends the feed. ]

video | fleet encryption [viewable to spock and stiles]

[jirk]

[Don't mind him, Stiles, he's totally butting in here. Looking Captainly.]

Do we have a problem here?

[The question is open-ended, neutrally said, obviously directed to both Spock and Stiles. His tone's curious more than outright accusatory. Sometimes he actually remembers he took courses in conflict resolution and the mediation thereof.]

LOL oh goodie

[skybluejeep]

Oooh-kay you either just broke my encryption or you're reading Spock's email. Either way, creeper.

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[jirk]

[That attitude. That hair. It's like looking at himself minus a decade except with a snark that verges into 'defensive' rather than 'outstandingly arrogant'. Jim gives the kid a level look. It is the 'I'm willing to play nice but there's no way I'm putting up with your bullshit' look. Come to think of it, he probably inherited it from Pike.]

As Mister Spock's commanding officer, his business can kind of be my business at the best and worst of times.

[A beleaguered little smile.]

Name's Jim Kirk. Captain, if you feel the need to be all official about it, but I pretty much never am outside of Starfleet. It's Stiles, right?

[He drags a hand through his hair.]

If you want, I can always walk you through a higher bit encryption code. Yours isn't bad, I'm just nosy as hell. In the meantime, I'd like to ask that you please keep whatever details you know about our lives under wraps.

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[skybluejeep]

[If this is his future? He'll take it. Because damn son you good lookin'. Ahem. Focus, Stiles.]

Oh, god. You're pulling rank on me. I can't believe you're pulling rank on me. My dad does that to me all the time and it's annoying as hell.

Look, things were said. I didn't mean for it to get that heated, okay? I just...really don't like it when I'm condescended at. It pushes my buttons.

...Tell Mr. Spock I won't say anything to anybody. And that I really am sorry.

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[dow]

[ Maybe he can make Jim forget this ever happened! That is a definite, albeit slight, possibility. Telepathy!! Nope, on second thought he's not even making eye-contact because this is ridiculous and of course Jim is hacking everything in this broadcast, why is Spock even surprised at this juncture. The situation can't get any worse at this point. ]

I do not wish to discuss the matter.

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[jirk]

Yeah, I gathered that. I'll take care of it.

[PR DISASTER. JIM HATES DIPLOMACY.]

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[dow]

No. [ He takes it back, this can get worse. ] No, Jim.

[ Struggling here. ]

As much as is possible, please distance yourself from these topics.