benthic_university | Correspondence Scholarship, Class Six [Tuesday Morning, July 15]

Though still moderately charred, the classroom door this week bore no suspicious marks. Students could be forgiven for muttering to themselves as they entered the class, but thankfully, all letters and sounds were free to speak.

The Ex-Disgraced Academic was at the lectern, having completed preparing several diagrams on the blackboards behind them.

“Let’s begin a crucial part of crafting proper Correspondence symbols: layering. You may have noticed two weeks ago, the way that the simple greeting was composed of the radicals for the pronoun “You,” as well as the verb “to like.” It does in fact translate as the base reassurance “you are liked.” Not a bad way to greet someone. It is, however, very formal. You see how the two radicals don’t touch? In the improper context, it could possibly be read as ‘The idea of “you” and “being liked” don’t belong within five-thousand light-years of each other.’ Hm. Not half as nice. A more casual way would look like this…” and here, they crossed the tip of To Like through the tail of You, “…there. A gentle light approaches. The meaning of this symbol will change, as the two bisect each other more closely.” The Academic wrote one across the other. “Beloved.” They raised an eyebrow. “No doubt several of you have your hearts aflutter, ready to stamp this on your next note to your latest beau. But might I offer a moment of pause before you attempt it on paper…”

The Academic erased the board. “To explain, let us turn our attention to the use of adjectives. Similarly to the prior example, the position of the adjective will denote the relationship of the adjective to the noun. An adjective which does not touch a noun can be inferred to have a weak, or even negative meaning.” The Academic pulled down a blank board, inscribed the symbol for fire, then encircled it with an odd shape. “The adjective for great, mighty. With no lines touching or intersecting, the meaning could be translated as: A fire lacking in fortitude or greatness.”

Next, The Academic picked up an atomizer, and next to the first symbol, inscribed a similar one. This time, the circle crossed through all four lines in fire. The chalk had scarcely completed its revolution, whereupon the lines blazed, and smoke billowed up from the stone.

Almost bored, The Academic doused the offending symbol, and turned back toward the class. “As you have seen, the nearer and adjective draws to a noun- here even overlapping the center of it- the more it indicates a strong correlation. A conflagration of devastating proportions/The thunderclap death of the mighty.” They gave the board another spray from over their shoulder, for good measure. “Adjectives are where we begin to cross from statements of relatively objective fact into the world of opinion, passion, and coercion. This is how it becomes a weapon.”

“Perception shapes reality, and language is a means of communicating that reality. It’s also a means of making a case that your perceived reality is the true one. And when enough people agree with you, it’s not impossible to say that reality itself can change.”

“The Correspondence is a means of arguing your case with the laws of physics itself. You’re shining a dim light into your own perspective, and allowing others to see it. Other opinions are capable of making a much stronger argument, especially those who are more fluent in the Correspondence. Eloquent folks are like that. And your only option is to become more learned and eloquent.”

“Today you will be practicing how to write the symbol for A small but merry warmth. This symbol is difficult, and can be found somewhere between the two extremes I’ve demonstrated on the board today.” The Academic went to the lectern, flipped open their own notebook, wrote something, and then placed their teacup atop it. “If you do it correctly, it will be sufficient to keep a cup of tea warm for several hours. The eternal tragedy of forgetting your cup until long after it’s gone cold? A thing of the past, if you can pull this off.” The Academic dipped from their cup, pleased with the results. “I haven’t given you a perfect example, because I want you to be careful. Mis-writing this symbol will have immediate consequences, as will most unnecessary hyperbole. Be judicious in the emphasis you place on your thoughts in The Correspondence. Be…” The Academic thought for a beat, then snapped their claws, “…temperate.”

“Allez.”

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Admittedly, the thought crossed the Tailor's mind that their friend had meant it as another method of repayment--but their love for their work got ahead of them, and they were thinking of logistics before favors.

"Depends on a few elements. When a person would want it done by, for one thing, fabric, level of detail... If one wanted quality, but wasn't too concerned for timeframe, and it was your very standard style without flourish, I'd say... Fifty echoes? Maybe sixty, sixty-five for an Ulster style--"

They tapped their chin, then pulled out a second notebook, not of flame-proof paper but standard. When they opened it, one could see the shorthand on one side, and the numerous sketches on the other, capturing the silhouette of passerby, quickly drawing the shapes of panels for gowns and coats, imagining or recreating embroidery designs, and on and on. They flipped to a clean page, and began to draw the different shapes from memory, thinking quietly on styles and how bolts of fabric would line up with the seams. Single breasted, double breasted, lined--

"Yes. I think so. I don't do the books for my master, so I'd have to double check. Should I--" they blinked, finally setting the pencil down as they realized how caught up with the simple question they'd become. "Did you want to come into the shop to commission him?"

OOC: Hey, kid. You're dense.

The Socialite watched the Tailor work, nodding along and making mental notes of terms and prices. "I'm not entirely certain what an Ulster is, but do go on..." Still, he nodded, witnessing the poise of an expert.

At the final question, the Socialite looked up with a furrow in his brow. "Why would I wish to commission your master, when I don't know him? Unless I do? But, even still, a one-time escapade is nothing of an accord. I would much rather commission from someone I've surely seen the work of personally and find agreeable. It's a reasonable logic, no?"

"Seen the work o-" The Tailor cut themself off, staring into the middle distance.

"Ah."

They quietly placed a hand over their mouth, ducking their head a little, embarrassed. Still, the hand couldn't hide the growing smile behind it.

"Perfectly reasonable, you're entirely correct. I... am still not used to being one's first choice. Habit directs me to assume one's business is with my employer."

The Socialite smiled fondly. "When I was first stepping away from my apprenticeship, I was much the same. Still, having seen your work on a personal level, testing its mettle against impact, stretching, staining, and cutting, whilst still looking dashing, I would of course wish to commission you, when I can see to the funds of a new coat. This one..." The Socialite considered the coat on his chair and sighed. "Good for other things, I'm sure. It's served me well for years."

The Tailor glanced over the coat in question, the same one they'd seen in the Socialite's home which had been worn and darned. It was a lovely thing, true, and it matched their friend well: elegant at the glance, but revealing wear if one looked too long.

No, it wouldn't do. The Socialite knew just how important impressions were, knew just how much clothes could make a man. Mori deserved better.

"Right," the Tailor said very firmly, snapping their little book shut, "the next time I am in your home I'm bringing my tape measure and notes. We'll worry about the construction and the fabric selection when your funds allow for it, but seeing as we'll need to meet regarding our other endeavors, if you're serious about the request, we can at least go over your preferences. Does that sound agreeable?"

Oh no, they were so businesslike! How adorably serious they looked about it, smiling pleasantly across the table.

The Socialite did love their usual coat. It was still warm when it needed to be and did well at blending in or sticking out. He bought it with his first payment and had worn it ever since. And it was falling apart, the sleeves having started giving out two months ago, the trimmed waist wearing four months before that, and he'd found a hole in the lining last night. He'd always darned it, hemmed it, restitched it whenever it showed its age, but it was precious, a memory. Which was why it had to be put away, before it could fall apart completely. A personal occasion coat, a wedding coat, a funeral coat, and, when it has served its last, perhaps there would be another use for the fabric. Or perhaps he would wear it in his own casket, should he need one.

Whatever the future of it was, it could no longer serve as a more regularly worn coat. There was no one the Socialite trusted more to do it and him justice than the Tailor. It was in their title, after all, as well as their work.

"Quite agreeable." The Socialite nodded with a confident smile and pulled a note from the inside pocket, passing it along to the Tailor. "This has my correct measurements as of three weeks ago. Among other things, of course, but when in dire need of a coat, cardiac assistance, or a coffin, I imagine these details will be useful. At least, as a starting point." It was all so fondly formal and businesslike, a blend of appreciation with professionalism.

The grin broke out proper now. The Tailor accepted the slip, glancing it over with an approving nod, and then slid it safely into their book. "I'll copy these details over and have it back to you quickly. Very useful, I think. Of course, those were before someone began their foray into the Shapeling arts," they teased very lightly, though there was still that etiquette of formality in it. "Should you keep experimenting with your shape, as some in this town do," they glanced at the Professor without judgement, but with meaning, "your tailor should be advised quickly and discretely regarding alterations."

It was easier to be like this, they found. A little bit of play, a little bit of work, the Tailor seemed confident and at ease. The past week had been a lot, but the stress that had plagued them had retreated.

They slid their little notebook out of the way for now. Class would be beginning soon. "We can discuss this more later, of course. Thank you." Their eyes crinkled with the genuine sentiment.

(A client! A real client!)

The Socialite laughed at the bit of teasing, light and careless. "I promise, should I venture further, my Tailor will be the first person I tell. I look forward to working with you." With a playful wink, he turned back to the front, allowing the Tailor some time to sort themselves out.

(Yes! Success! Not only could he get the Tailor to cheer up, but he could also support their business! What a relief! He was going to get good marks in parenti- I mean, friendship.)

Edited 2025-07-16 14:31 (UTC)

Correspondence Scholarship, Class Six [Tuesday Morning, July 15]

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