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

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 Socialite gave a polite wave, nervous that he might've been caught. "Good morning, dear Maven. A pleasure seeing you again this week." He gave subtle nods to both the Devil and the Piper before turning back around. Not that potentially getting caught would stop him from listening still.

Re: Before Class

[theliedpiper]

"Hello as well!" Piper added, grateful that the Maven had saved them the trouble of having to get Maury and Tularemia's names. They were pretty sure Maury had been kind to them last week, in the jumble of crying and closets, but the specifics weren't clear. "And nice little stoat you've got there. Does it like treats?"

Piper's cooking might have been questionable by human standards, but it was pretty good by rodents'. They had some spiced and dried peppercaps they'd grown tucked away in their cloak pocket for snacking.

Re: Before Class

[themorbidsocialite]

The mustelid in question sniffed at the peppercaps from the brim of the Socialite's hat and reeled back, not angry at all, but certainly uninterested in the mushrooms. The Socialite clicked his tongue in reprimand. "I apologize, stoat's are obligate carnivores. Though, here. Try some of this." He handed the Piper a strip of dried meat, possibly from a shrew or mole or perhaps rabbit.

"She is normally fond of treats, just only when she can eat them. And she will steal them from you, if she sees an opening."

Re: Before Class

[theliedpiper]

"Ah. Sorry, Tularemia." They winced, retracting their offering quickly. "Feels kind of like cheating to give her something that's already yours. Suppose it's better than getting her hopes up for nothing, though."

They fed the stoat the dried meat, even though it actually smelled pretty good and was tempting to eat themself.

"Anyway, how was your week?" They asked to change the subject away from their lack of knowledge on stoats.

Re: Before Class

[themorbidsocialite]

Tularemia was fully aware it was borrowed meat, but was fully willing to take it nonetheless, only taking off a couple points for not already carrying meat around. That still placed the Piper as just under the Pupil in the ranking of favorite strangers, above almost everyone else in the class.

"Oh, I suppose about as well as anyone else's," the Socialite hummed, running a hand over top of the notebook. "Nightmares in the first half, success in eliminating them in the second, and thus follows that the latter half of the week was delightful."

The Morbid Socialite cast a glance aside. "I do hear you had an eventful week."

Re: Before Class

[theliedpiper]

"Seems like everyone did an alright job clearing their heads." Piper peered around the room at eyes that were more bright than usual. At least, they were pretty sure they were.

It was kind of a shame; the Piper had thought themself rather clever for their anti-nightmare solution. It took some of the fun out of it that everyone else seemed to have been just as successful. And that thought did tone down their boasting somewhat. Everyone else had probably died once or twice already. Piper hadn't even picked a cool way to do it, really.

"Eh, I dunno. I wasn't here for most of it." They scratched the back of their neck. "Hope I didn't miss the dance lessons uh... Devil and... rats, who was it... errrr, someone was talking about."

The Piper dropped their face on their desk, smushing the nose of their mask. They really hoped Maury hadn't been the forgotten third party in that conversation.

Re: Before Class

[themorbidsocialite]

"Dancing lessons? This is the first I'm hearing of it, especially from the Brash Devil." The Socialite fully turned around now, insistent. "I apologize, as well, for eavesdropping, but I don't believe your first death is anything to sneeze at. Was it intentional? Accidental?"

Tularemia sniffed more at the Piper, hoping for an invitation across.

Re: Before Class

[theliedpiper]

Oh thank goodness.

"Intentional!" They grinned, not at all bothered by the eavesdropping. "Know a hyaena who'll eat your nightmares in exchange for, uh, a little of the rest of you. Lovely thing. Prettiest green eyes, too. Anyway, I had an appointment with someone on the boatman's boat, and that was the most peaceful way to go."

They let Tularemia climb onto their arm and up their shoulders. They hadn't realized they were holding in any tension, but they felt more relaxed in the animal's presence.

"Maybe I'll try something more exciting next time, if I need to go back. Hopefully not too soon. I need to give that boatman time to practice his chess."

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

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

After her conversation with Piper, Maven noticed the lacey ribbon Tularemia was wearing. She smiled at the Socialite, "That was a cute idea! Tumaremia looks very cute!"

She glanced at the doily-covered notebook, "I was thinking of decorating mine with some sketches in the center of each doily, but was debating on what. I suppose that's something to think about later, outside of class time."

Re: Before Class

[themorbidsocialite]

Scratching Tularemia behind the ears, he smiled. "It only ridded the notebook of some of the doily, but perhaps enough to not be so garish."

They considered the sketching idea and nodded. "While the drawings are a lovely idea, I'm afraid I'm unsure if I could offer any suggestions. The possibilities are, indeed, endless, however, so I don't doubt you'll think of something."

Re: Before Class

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

"Oh, I don't know if I'd go so far as to call it garish," Maven was turning her own notebook around, "I admit my tastes are more floral than lacey, but I think it's rather cute." She glanced at the Academic with a small smile, "Though it seems our teacher was not expecting them to look quite so... adorned."

Re: Before Class

[themorbidsocialite]

The Socialite nodded. "I apologize, perhaps 'twee' or 'dolled' is a more apt description. One can only imagine the Emissary was expecting something far more simple or, perhaps, classic. However, if this is the state of the first batch, one must wonder what might the second be adorned with? More fanciful and darling? Or perhaps racing to the opposite end of the spectrum, covered in metal studs and leather?"

Re: Before Class

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

The mental image that conjured up made the Maven giggle, "I can only imagine! The idea of a notebook so trimmed up with lace and ribbon that it could barely fit in one's bag is an amusing one!"

She thought on it a bit, "Though, for a Correspondence course, a notebook with studded leather might be an appropriate way to go..."

Re: Before Class

[themorbidsocialite]

The Socialite laughed at the thought, imagining such a notebook and the varied reactions to it. He was almost tempted to pass along a bribe, make it happen. It would likely result in consequences far beyond his imagining, but the hilarity that would ensue...

"While, yes, leather is a hardy material, it's not exactly inconspicuous. Remember among the first rules: to keep the notes hidden, that a law is only a law, if it is enforceable. The appearance of the Correspondence is often that of threat and class, so to have a twee notebook? Nobody would think to look."

Re: Before Class

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

"That is a fair point," Maven nodded in agreement, now looking down at the notebook in deep thought, "A plain leather notebook might be passable, but one decked out and studdded would stand out. Though on that note, you could go the opposite route and say a lacey notebook like this stands out in an academic setting like this. So I suppose it's a matter of perspective."

Re: Before Class

[theanachronistictailor]

The sight of Tularemia flaunting her bit of lace pulled a smile onto the Tailor's tired face. "She's growing a collection of accessories at this rate," they joked, half to themself. They had run into her in London and sent a calling card to the Socialite by way of gifting the stoat a ribbon with the card pinned to it, and since then had seen her from time to time sporting it on her trek across parts of town.

They had personally been planning on stripping bits of the lace off the covers themself--perhaps for shirt cuffs? Could enough be tidily salvaged for a collar, or trim? Maybe on a hat ribbon itself? Hm. A problem for later, when they had access to their own tools.

Re: Before Class

[themorbidsocialite]

Spotting the Tailor, the small stoat bounded across the desks to greet them and show off her lace, much to the bemusement of the Socialite. "That she is. Which, I must thank you for the lovely ribbon you sent before. She adores it, such that I was afraid momentarily she wouldn't let me remove it to apply the lace. Would you know how to sew ribbons together? I think lace with a green backing would look lovely, don't you agree?"

Re: Before Class

[theanachronistictailor]

The Tailor snickered with mild surprise, holding their little cup up and away from the stoat, more to prevent any accidents than to not tempt her. (They doubted she would have any interest in the tea.) They scritched her little head with their free hand, and then under her chin and jaw, their smile unable to contain itself.

"Oh, joining ribbons is a simple enough task, and backing a ribbon with lace a process that could be done before a candle has lost almost any wax. I think you're right, so long as the weight of the lace is light," they said offhandedly, ruffling what would constitute as Tularemia's cheek. "What do you think, darling?" They asked her conversationally. "Shall I find you something in deep green, or are you fond of pastels? Hm?"

Re: Before Class

[themorbidsocialite]

Tularemia- unfortunately or fortunately, depending on who you asked- was not able to speak and, thus, could not give her honest and heartfelt preference. She was quite happy, however, dancing over and through the Tailor's hand in delight. She was simply enjoying showing off to a familiar and friendly face, giving their fingers playful nibbles as she weaved between them.

"She seems to enjoy earthen, autumn colors. Something dark might complement the bright white of her fur as well as the off-white of the lace. I do believe a deep green would look darling."

Re: Before Class

[theanachronistictailor]

A stoat was not a ferret, and the Tailor was not an urchin, but they were still delighted by the playful energy and little nips, and they withheld their giggles but not the joy in their tired eyes.

"I believe I was asking my client," they teased lightly, but nodded. "A scrap of ribbon will not be difficult to find, perhaps before next class. In the meantime," they booped her little nose with a finger, "You shall have to settle for your lovely lacy collar, or whatever else your master has for you."

The smile was turned to the Socialite. "And how is the master in question?"

Re: Before Class

[themorbidsocialite]

And there was that pride once more, beaming from a smile that somehow never failed to reach the Socialite's eyes. "Quite well," he hummed, allowing Tularemia to race up his arm, over his hat, around the brim a few times, and back down the arm to resume the 'attack' on the Tailor's hand. "My sleep has much improved and, fortunately, I am not so inebriated on my spouse's return as last week. All is at perfect equilibrium, a homeostasis achieved through careful balance. Which is to say: quite well.

"And yourself, dear Tailor? How do you fare?"

Re: Before Class

[theanachronistictailor]

On her return, a laugh did bubble free again, before they pressed their lips together again, trying to suppress it further. What a playful thing!

"I manage," they said truthfully. "Sleep has only caught me when I finally allowed it to, and when it did, I had properly exhausted the mind and body enough to find real rest. The tea doesn't hurt," they added, lifting the cup again. "I brought a bit to share, should anyone still be suffering and need a small boost."

It had not been discussed for the study groups, but considering their subject, it felt wise to be prepared. Although the Tailor certainly did not have enough cups and tea for all the class. Here's hoping most of their classmates were better rested!