Correspondence Scholarship, Class Four [Tuesday Morning, July 1]

[theexdisgracedacademic]

As the students filed in, The Academic arrived, wheeling a book cart. On one side, stacked high, were a number of small boxes. The purveyor’s whole name wasn’t legible, but from the classroom seats, the words “-Educational Picture Postcards and Assorted Souvenir Stationery” were boldly visible.” The other side of the cart had still more boxes, and something bottled and unforgettable gleamed inside. The Academic quickly folded those boxes closed, walked to a far side of the room, and closed them into a filing cabinet, before securing it with a rather nasty-looking correspondence lock.

“You’ll get that when you’re good and ready,” The Academic drawled, returning to the cart and lifting another box, “but the world’s finest pigments mean nothing at all without the proper…” and here they dropped the box thudding on the nearest bench: “paper!”

From the trim, tidy packaging, they produced a series of twee, doily-covered notebooks. Their pupil contracted at the garish sight, lips drawing back into a hiss. Suspiciously, they thumbed through the contents, relief diluting their disgust.

 

“Hm. Well. The paper is of the requested quality. That’s enough, I suppose.” The Academic passed a notebook to the nearest student, and gestured for that student to pass it down, in turn. Soon enough, each student was in possession of a notebook.

“Wretched and garish as they are, each of these are filled with fifty sheets of F.F. Gebrant’s Flame-Resilient Paper. These are professional-quality materials, and can safely accommodate three correspondence symbols at a time, as well as any English notes you might take alongside the symbols. The covers may be too precious by half, but you oughtn’t be. I can avail myself of a practically bottomless source, so use them up and ask for more as you require.”

“Let’s break them in with some fairly standard notes in English, shall we?” Chalk hit board, and the lecture began. "I want you to start thinking about what The Correspondence can do for you. Let us start with the two major skill sets: Crimson Engineer, and the Epistolant."

"The Crimson Engineer invents and develops technology. There are numerous subfields, any of which is well worth your consideration.”

“Aerosenautics is the application of Crimson Engineering to sustained flight. This is a very lucrative and currently developing field, due to increased interest in airships after the recent failed invasion by some misguided sects of Starved Men. The Khanate and the Iron Republic have made impressive strides and impressive craft, but I have personally overseen the work of genius minds here in London. You will not go hungry; and the miracle of flight is a rare privilege attainable by these slim few.”

“Locksmith. A simple name for the single most in-demand trade we’ll discuss today. Why do so many people want locks crafted in correspondence? It's such a specific usage! Well, the public has it in mind, and anyone with anything important to store- especially things that are hard, cold, and inflammable- love to have new safes. This occupation will net you plenty of jobs, both in the locking and unlocking of carefully-tuned safety mechanisms.”

“Our subject can also be applied to living organisms, through a surgical field known as Batbiorangilogical Studies. It is a more precise surgical field than Shapeling Arts, but it is also significantly more lethal when mishandled. Shapeling Arts involve the transmission and absorption of vital essences. Batbiorangilogical studies involve meticulous surgical comprehension.”

“Of course, there is room for generalists. But studying with colleagues is the best way to improve your skills, so it’s fine to pick a focus and change later.”

"On the other side, there are those who study The Correspondence with a strict linguistic focus.” Was that a wry smile? Could there be a hint of bias in this next bit? These are Epistolants. Rather than breaking the laws of physics directly, Epistolants avail themselves of the power of the written word as an art form. This makes use of the natural suggestive charms of both Correspondence and other tongues, meaning that there are no limits. All forms of communication can be utilized: written, spoken, sculpted, painted, auditory, textile, really, anything at all!”

“The dangers of this focus are more commonly mental and spiritual. Philosophical truths will reveal themselves to you. But more frequently, mistakes will cause useless information to burn itself into your mind, masquerading as items of vital importance. And a careless or wicked writer may do this, purposefully, to others.”

“Pure Epistolography is in letter-writing. Those who cannot read nor write will hire scribes to write for them. You'll frequently pick up work in simple english. But there will be nothing simple about your english. It will not be your duty to take simple, word-for-word dictation, but to communicate the feelings of the sender to the recipient.”

"Transchromators convey meaning from Correspondence to another language. In your cases, most likely English. You'll need to do a little of that, no matter which discipline you choose. However, as the name suggests, transchromators also must be capable of handling correspondence in its purest form: light and heat itself. Yes, this does require obtaining a license to handle otherwise illegal contraband, such as mirrorcatch boxes of sunlight."

“Poets/Composers. Based on the themes which have been popular in the past decade, I can confidently state that there is still a rich and thriving future in celestial and uplifting correspondence poetry. Something to bring light to weary and tired souls. Especially if you're musically inclined.”

“Legal work. You are not to break the laws, but to weave them. This will bring you into frequent contract- er, contact, with our infernal neighbors. If you like the challenge of technicality, there are no more suitable frontiers.”

"Now, I have neglected to mention it, but there is another option: You could, also, teach." Suddenly animated with false joy, they gestured, making no attempt at all to hide the bitterness chrining just below the surface. "If you've nothing at all better to do, why not waste your precious years of good health decomposing into a husk well before you'd ever considered shopping for your first set of tomb-bandages? What a lark! What joy!" The Academic seemed to come to their senses, remembering that they did in fact have a colleague here in class, who sometimes saw fit to wear bandages. They coughed awkwardly. “Well. I suppose there isn’t anything of itself wrong with teaching. If you’ve the choice to do it, that is.”

The thought lead into something much more soothing, and a new, satisfied expression taking its turn in the Academic’s eyes. “However, when I am at my regular occupation, then I am what is referred to as an "Emmistolant." In all avenues of life, it is not what you know, but who you know. And facilitating that communication is my trade. I need not hide myself behind my letters, nor remain cooped up in dry study. My travels take me to all corners of The Neath, discussing any number of strange matters with any type of person.”

“Every being is useful. They need only be introduced to the people who can make use of them, or to help their skills flourish. Misused as I am in this class, this administration has got one thing correct: For each of the professions I've described, I could see fit to write your chipper young careers a letter of introduction or referral.” The Academic paced the room. “But my recommendations hold more weight than the tonnage of a Standing-Stone at The Hurlers. I do not lift my pen without very good reason, and only the students whom I trust not to embarrass me on a grotesque and personal level will be ferried along to my lofty contacts. However, if you can manage some measure of esteem in this class, the one bright spot in this whole laughable summer would be in connecting those worthy with future careers as Correpondents."

A hint of pride. The Academic spoke honestly, genuinely hoping to write several letters by the end of the course.

“Now, if you’ve done your homework, you should be fresh and ready for this week’s tasks. If not, then you are going to have a very taxing morning, indeed. For the rest of today, you’ll be communicating with each other, using nothing but your current understanding of the correspondence, and the syllabary from the board.”

The Academic walked from one side of the boards to the other, pushing each up, revealing a large set of simple correspondence symbols. Unlike last week’s grid, this array did not trigger any immediate effects. The danger would likely come- as they’d been warned week one- in the night. As the Academic pushed the final board, they turned their heel in a very funny way, and gestured with their off hand. Their sleeve flowed behind the arm in a rather peculiar way. Almost like an additional limb.



“Proper Correspondence Symbols layer these in a way you aren’t quite ready for yet. So instead, you’re going to practice with a different format: Subject, verb, object. Using this simple “SVO” structure, find a partner and communicate in short sentences, no longer than three words long. You should be able to safely inscribe any number of these symbols on a single sheet without turning your notebooks to tinder, so have at it. See what you can learn with such a limited vocabulary. And only communicate this way. I don’t want to hear a single word of The Empress' English until the end of practice time.”

The Academic pointed over to a sitting-area they’d prepared. “That verbal luxury is reserved for each of you, one at a time. Come over when you’re ready, and discuss your classroom goals, and which focus might’ve caught your ear.”

“The rest of you, get to it!”

Comments

Before Class

[theexdisgracedacademic]

Did you do your homework last week? How haunted do your character’s eyes look?

The Academic is gently scratching at the cover of their notebook. The light scraping rhythm is an annoying little toe-tapper at worst to anyone under five levels of nightmares. Any higher, and it’s oddly reminiscent of the sound of the blood hissing through the veins in your ears.

blood blood blood

Re: Before Class

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

Maven looked at the notebook. Not quite her taste, but not totally horrible either in her opinion. At

She yawned a little. While she had experience in dealing with nightmares by this point and had gotten hers under control, she would admit that this week had been a bit trying. She had to dip into her supply of 1862 Spoiring more than was preferable, but it was helped by her and the Brash Devil going to Beatrice's, writing out their nightmares, and doing their usual routines to deal with nightmares.

She tried to ignore the sounds the Academic was making (fortunately to her it was just mildly annoying) and turned to the Piper, who was sitting near her and Devil again, "Hello Piper, how was your week?"

Re: Before Class

[theliedpiper]

"Pretty great! Babysat some monsters. Died for the first time. Got a nice gondola ride and some board games out of it. Much more peaceful than I thought it'd be." They got up and grabbed a scone before asking, "How was yours?"

Re: Before Class

[ticktopis_observatorium]

The Professor reaches for the Maven once they've set their table.

"Good morning, Doctor! How was your last week?" they ask with a cheery smile, although noticing their tiredness.

Re: Before Class

[themorbidsocialite]

The Morbid Socialite had found a seat rather close to the other students that entered before him. He found Tularemia in the bottom of the gladstone bag, just underneath his notes, and gently removed her from the assortment of supplies. The both of them listened in to the conversation between the Maven and the Piper while the Socialite retrieved and arranged their belongings. The Socialite refused to turn and admit they were eavesdropping, but the ermine stoat had no such problems, watching intently with the dark eyes of a predator.

Wait a moment, had the Piper just said they died for the first time? Death was so common an ailment in the Neath that it had become hardly remarkable, if someone died for the fiftieth, hundredth, thousandth time, but the first time? That was nothing to sneeze at. And the Piper seemed hardly shaken. Perhaps his head turned just a little, enough to let the observant see he was paying attention, but little enough to snap back to his work with little to-do.

The Socialite was open to any conversations, of course, his body language far from harried or closed off.

Re: Before Class

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

Maven had caught the Socialite's head turn, and while she was still in conversation with Piper at the moment she did give them a nod and say, "Hello Maury!" She also gave Tularemia a smile, "Hello Tularemia!"

Re: Before Class

[themorbidsocialite]

The Morbid Socialite, having now noticed the notebooks passed around, witnessed the reactions of most of his colleagues and stifled the somewhat more positive reaction he might've had. Yes, the notebooks were garish and twee, but were they not unique in that respect?

Or, perhaps, such a feature as the doilies would make the notebook easier to spot among other hidden materials, were one to investigate their belongings. As well, doilies were remarkably flammable when the flames actually caught.

The delayed reaction to the notebook did nothing to save it from the scalpel removing a strip of doily with surgical precision. The almost lacey feature was presented before Tularemia and, within minutes, she was proudly circling the brim of the Socialite's hat, sporting a brand new, lace ribbon.

Re: Before Class

[tolpen]

In all consideration, the Mycologist looks very much like the last week. Today his lapel pin is some sort of a beetle with fart oo many legs and a golden carapace. The only change would be his ears - a number of those piercings have definitely moved to other parts. Besides being replaced, that is a bit distracting, but a simple hoop is easy to keep track of. Then again, who looks at a man's jewellery...

In case anyone asks, he has been keeping a track of his nightmares the entire week - something he hasn't done in a considerable length of time. He even has the notes with him. But if there is no interest, he is completely content to keep them where no one will read them.
He is looking tired, true, but that is because he's pushed some locksmithing work through the last night. Busy little bee, he is. It doesn't help that when he digs into his briefcase for his sliding ruler and mechanical pencil, the first thing he brings out is a hefty binder of legal documents that has absolutely no business fitting into the briefcase. It takes a few moments to stuff it back in.

He inspects the notebook that has landed on him through the second most comprehensive scientific method: He runs his pinky across the paper, and then he licks it.
Ew. He nods to himself, entirely satisfied, and procures a pair of gloves from the jacket's pocket.

Re: Before Class

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

Maven approached the Mycologist, "Hello! How have you been this week?" She noticed the large binder, "That's quite a lot of paperwork."

Re: Before Class

[theanachronistictailor]

The Tailor settled into their usual process of removing their bag and coat before finding their seat. There was the slightest noise of...ceramic, perhaps? from their bag, as it was placed down, but it went disregarded as they dropped into their seat. They lifted their wrist to conceal their yawn, which stretched and clicked their jaw, and then blinked the remnants of weariness away.

They could not argue that they were well rested, but it had not been for nightmares. After the first night, the Tailor had thrown themself into multiple tasks: they had finished repairs to the Pupil's garments, worked again on practicing their embroidery (their master had been adamant on their improvement since the matter of the beetle wings), and, of course, they'd gone hunting. The hunt was more than just their second source of income, it was in itself a kind of freedom. Who could sleep when there was the Hunt? The adrenaline, the speed, the instinct, it put their worries at ease.

It was after a stint at zee where they had hauled a plated seal onto the deck of the boat when the Tailor finally returned to their bed with intent to sleep, and it was beautiful and dreamless. Such times were rare. Nightmares tended to be their norm. Hence, the flask, which they now unscrewed the little cap of and pulled the cork from to pour a small amount into the cap.

They sipped quietly, and smiled. Sunlit Special, now in one's own hands. It had been worth the cost of getting a small amount of the leaves for themself--the shop was very protective of the recipe. To say nothing of the flask itself, which was far from the only of its kind, but still not a commercial item, and was therefore a frightful price. Still, in their experience in the Marshes or on the Zee during a long hunt in the dark, extremely worth it.

So, tired but not at all haunted, they retrieved their pen from their bag. The notebooks were frightfully ugly, but one could easily sort that if one was really very desperate to. Perhaps later.

Re: Before Class

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

Maven was happy to see Tailor looking much happier than last week. She approached them, "Hello Tailor, how has your week been?"

Re: Before Class

[the_brash_devil]

The Brash Devil sneered at the notebook. He was not as magnanimous as Maven, "Ugh, it's like a book store and a tea shop melted together into one disgusting mess!"

His sleep was mostly the same as Mavens, maybe marginally worse. While he did have Maven to help, he was not the expert she was and was not always as forthright about his nightmares.

Re: Before Class

[theliedpiper]

"Right? Isn't it awesome?" The Piper held up their notebook, appraising it as warmly as if it were a fine painting.

Re: Before Class

[ticktopis_observatorium]

The Professor arrived seemingly free from mind ghosts, the only signs against that being an insistence on avoiding to see other people's eyes, and a little wince when the Emissary mentioned decomposing into a husk, specially when coming from their very own lips. But other than that, they were fine. If their Nightmares could be rated in a scale from 0 to 8, they'll be barely 4

They finally chose today to drop incomfortable ways of covering an unnecessary charade, not with this class, and freely show their facial features. Crimson and cream-colored scales covering their skin, thin lips hardly concealing two sharp fangs (and maybe something else? Attached to the inside of the cheek, or the jaw?), reptillian eyes with slitted pupils, although those seem to have started to divide in one, maybe two points? Their hair still looks human, but for some locks that seem harder, like setae? Their hands are equally scaled and bearing black sharp claws, nicely tended to. When sitting a tail is made aparent.

They're excited! Looking around to their fellow classmates and gladly checking they seem to have fended off their dreams well. Their gaze lingers in the Mycologist as well. And then in the hilarious notebooks. Such a cute cover, they can't help but feel it with their fingers. The obvious disdain from the Academic only makes them cuter.

Re: Before Class

[themorbidsocialite]

The Morbid Socialite was one to pay attention to his surroundings at all times, including his fellow students and very much including the Professor. When they had walked in, the Socialite was, at first, confused, not recognizing the Professor without the identifiable wrappings. However, as soon as their eyes caught on the clothing, recognizing the make and style, their eyes widened and they gasped in a hushed whisper:

"How remarkable..."

It was fully audible and fully, curiously, intriguingly adoring of the features, and yet his hands flew to his mouth as if he'd uttered the worst swear imaginable, growing reddish around the ears. He obviously hadn't meant to say that out loud, but it was too late now.

Re: Before Class

[the_dye_stained_socialite]

The Pawn took notice of this new, flamboyant person when they sat in their seat. Had another student joined the class? And so late? The prospect of making another information cheat sheet appealed to them. Less so the idea of meeting another person however. Their social limit was close to full already.

Yet.. a memory teased their recall. A mention of the art of shaping bodies, taught by the same friend who normally sits in that same spot. "Are you the Professor?" they blurted out, without thought on if it was rude or not to question someone's identity.

They hadn't even begun their scones yet.

Re: Before Class

[theanachronistictailor]

The Professor's exposed features were... quite a lot, admittedly. The Tailor had seen plenty of Rubbery adjustments or enhancements Londoners might have applied to themselves over the years (and they tried very, VERY hard not to think about the extremity they'd seen only a couple years prior), and there were even some that frequented the shop they worked at, so they worked to not have any reaction, but goodness!

Goodness. They'd had an idea the Professor was fond of Rubbery changes, especially from how they'd spoken last week, but what stark coloring! Not bad, but eye catching. They could understand why the Professor would usually try to conceal much to those not in the know. And the outfit had disguised the tail quite well. Unless that was new? Who could say?

The Tailor only looked out of the corner of their eye, and sipped their tea, but they were internally thinking about the accommodations and alterations one might need to make to clothes for additional limbs. Customized tailoring for Rubbery society members...

And the Professor seemed happy, at least. You learn something new about the people around you every day.

Re: Before Class

[stygean]

The Scientist was not unfamiliar with nightmares, and someone might argue that he was, in fact, too familiar with them. And that might have led to somewhat unusual means of treatment. The single sheet of Correspondence homework he placed on the desk, away from fungine tomfoolery of any sort, was unusually… excellent. Almost impossibly so. How did they… ah. Other notebooks and binders followed on the desk. Some charred, some ink-stained, almost all maniacally full of scribbles and attempts. He grimaced in what could almost have been a smile, sharp teeth flashing in the corner of the mouth. ‘Couldn’t sleep at all. Might as well make good use of it’ they explained, almost apologetically, to the Blemmigan now toying with the pens. Decidedly too familiar with nightmares.

Re: Before Class

[theexdisgracedacademic]

Oh dear, The Ex-Disgraced Academic was stepping around the podium, headed toward The Star-Collared Scientist. What was the trouble?

“A pleasure to have you with us again this week.” They were holding a black envelope. A mourning letter? No, it wasn’t merely black-rimmed, but black through and through. The back was sealed in a gray seal. Possibly wax, but it glittered with some other substance.

“Last week’s notes. Take care not to open the envelope until you have at least two hours of uninterrupted free time, as well as a washbasin full of water at hand. The letter will not last much longer than that, which is a blessing, I assure you. You won’t need any additional time to study it.”

Letter delivered, they clasped their hands behind their back. “This rapid method of study tends to cause rather quite a lot of stress upon the faculties, however. So be prepared with a method of managing the increase in nightmares.”

Ah, no trouble or argument at all. You were safe. Well, with one look to the envelope in question, at least you were socially safe.

Re: Before Class

[the_dye_stained_socialite]

Wobbling more than usual, an exhausted Thursday made their unsteady way up to the Professor's desk. Behind their new spectacles were dark bags heavy enough to be checked in at the Lobby of the Royal Beth. The lenses' magnifications did not ease this effect. Someone had decided to continue studying their notes in their off-week.

"Uh. Professor?" They stood awkwardly, but seemed unbothered by the light noise. When, eventually they spoke, it was in an accent richer than their normal. To trained ears, it wasn't the most convincing thing "I uh... missed last week. Someone pointed out that, apparently, not being able to see the board is a sign to get your eyes checked. So... I did?" They tapped the side of their spectacles. Interestingly, the lenses seemed to have a coating very similar to the Professor's own monocle. "And that's not- I-" The posh accent slipped away. "Fuck, what did I miss last week? D'ya have any notes I need to grab? I was gonna ask the other students too but I thought I should check multiple sources, ya know, since they're also just, well, students? Don't want to get halfway through someone's notes and find I'm makin' their same mistakes."

Re: Before Class

[theexdisgracedacademic]

The Ex-Disgraced Academic reached inside their bag, withdrawing an envelope. It was black and sturdy, the tooth identical to what was found within the notebooks.

The Pawn’s absent square had not been overlooked.

“You will find within this the grid which featured in last week’s lesson. Please do not open the envelope until you have at least two hours of uninterrupted free time, as well as a washbasin full of water at hand. The opened letter will only be able to contain the grid for roughly that period of time, before immolating itself.” An apologetic half-shrug. “Melodramatic, to be sure, but ultimately a greater safety precaution than allowing it to lay about. This week’s lessons give you slightly more difficulty than the rest of the class, but with the assurance of these notes, we’ll have you brought quickly up to speed.”

“Do make every effort to manage your nightmares after studying this grid. It will have a serious effect on them.”

Re: Before Class

[leviathanlovely]

Quietly The Undistinguished Pupil had made it to their desk, eyes heavy from restless sleep... They had heard all sorts of ways to cut back their nightmares but the damned things decided to evade them until the last moment when stress would be peaking The Night Before Class.

They almost didn't come in at all but figured there was only one horror worse than the ones plaguing their dreams and that would be the idea of not a single classmate noticing them gone or worse just assuming they had been in attendance all along!

The Pupil tipped their hat slightly in the motion of setting it gingerly aside, earning a few petulant chirps and pecks at their fingers not meant to harm but chide.

"Sorry, okay?" They hum an apology to their bird who seems a touch more temperamental today than usual. Oh joy.

Re: Before Class

[theanachronistictailor]

It was more than evident the Pupil's nights had been restless. The Tailor sat up slightly and turned a little in their seat to try to meet their gaze. There is still a small cup in their hand; tin, maybe? With the barest hint of steam rising from its edge.

"Long evenings, I imagine?" they offered quietly. The shadows under their own eyes were matching, but there was nothing in their face that seemed troubled, at least.

Re: Before Class

[ticktopis_observatorium]

The Professor gently approaches the Pupil (how poetic) noticing their distress.

"Good morning, Pupil. How are you feeling? You look like lacking proper rest, both physically and mentally..."

Re: Before Class

[themorbidsocialite]

Was it strange to say the Morbid Socialite had been keeping an eye out for the arrival of the Undistinguished Pupil? Perhaps, but it was not an untrue statement. He was about to resume their usual rivalry with a subtle display of Tularemia's new ribbon when not only did he recall his stoat had left him for the Tailor, but that it would be an uncalled for flaunt regardless, seeing the Pupil in such a state.

Rather than bury the scalpel deeper into the Pupil's chest, the Socialite decided instead to attempt to start mild and pleasant conversation, not too shallow as to be boring, but not too deep as to burden the Pupil's mind.

"There is gossip abound," they started, "that the manufacturer of the notebooks engaged in a spot of subterfuge and intentionally designed them to be dolled and laced. I'm not entirely against the design, but do you have thoughts?"