Correspondence Scholarship, Class Seven [Tuesday Morning, July 22]

[theexdisgracedacademic]

There was no sigil on the door this week, but instead a wooden sign, nailed to the door, lettered in bold English copperplate:

COURSE CANCELLED.
(No refunds.)

Next to it, The Academic was on a footstool, hammer in hand, praying nails out. 

They flashed a smile of encouragement at each student as they passed. “Pay it no mind, and get settled in. Be with you shortly.”

The last student had scarcely arrived when The Academic rushed into the room, slamming the door and locking it closed behind them. They tossed the purloined sign underneath the lectern, pulled down the second blackboard at the front of the room, and began to write.

“Quick question! Why would an administration which has encouraged the formal study of this language so suddenly reverse course? Any ideas?”

As the students brainstormed, the classroom door began to rattle. The doorknob failed to complete the necessary rotation. A polite knock grew steadily less polite. Keys jangled. The knocking resumed. The jangling of keys at the door grew louder, and louder. Several rather uncouth oaths made their way through the door, and a janitor was called for. A grating sound as the hinges were removed from the door.

As the already-abused door fell to the ground, the Academic threw up the current blackboards, revealing an entirely different lecture.

“And that-“ The Academic primped a lock of fairy-floss hair- “- is how we realized that the radicals for “negate” and “never” were etymologically completely different.” They then turned to smile at the fatigued intruders, displaying little shock as the Beleaguered Dean strode into view. “What an unexpected pleasure.”

"Wasn't there a sign on the door?"

The Academic kicked something more securely under the lectern. "Didn't see one."

The Dean pursed his lips. "You didn't receive my letter?"

"I receive quite a lot of letters. It can take me up to a week to respond," scornful eye turned toward the rest of the room, "especially when other circumstances cause my work to pile up."

The Dean withdrew a handkerchief from his breast pocket, and patted his forehead. "It's about that. You'll be very pleased to know that the administration has withdrawn its support from this course."

"Indeed? Has the course been deemed illegal again?"

"Well, no-"

The Academic inspected their nails. The effect was somewhat less casual- and more intimidating- with claws. "And do you need this room for anything?"

"Dash it, you know that this room's all a bit of Red Science whatsit-"

The Academic clapped once, face alight. "Then I really can't see the fuss!"

The Dean shook with frustration. "This course is terrifically dangerous! And we have reason to believe-" He turned to the janitor, who had finished putting the hinges back on the door. "Back me up on this, Jonathan-"

The Janitor shrugged.

The Academic's demeanor, if anything, grew more sugary. "Thank you ever so much for solving that trouble with the door, Jonathan! If I could trouble you with one crucial spot of cleaning up..." Long legs made quick word of the distance between them. The Academic slid an obvious arm around the shoulder of the Janitor, and a much more subtle roll of echoes into the man's trouser pocket. "Please escort our esteemed leader back down the stairs, see him safely and promptly back to his office?"

Grinning, Jonathan picked up The Dean, threw his outraged body over his shoulder, and carted him out of the room.

When the door closed, The Academic dropped the act as though it were a weighty coat, face falling into a more familiar sneer.

"Hmph. I've no intention of waffling back and forth on the matter. Class remains in session."

Chalkboards were rearranged, revealing another set, spotlessly cleaned. Unnervingly so. The Academic raised their chalk to the board. Why did this venture spark no small amount of anticipation in the room? It was only a lecture. And these were no more than plain, empty boards. Writing on the board wouldn't cover up or change them in the least, would they?

"This week, we are going to discuss punctuation."

And then The Academic lowered their chalk and turned to the class, leaving the horrible, horrible boards miserably blank. 

"When we studied adjectives, I mentioned that the relative position of the roots has a direct effect on the intended meaning. That carries over into the space between entire symbols too, doesn’t it? Having a space between each symbol is how you know that one concept ends, and another starts. If every sentence were merely a palimpsest layered atop one another, the symbol would lose all coherence."



The Academic continued not to write anything down. "What you say isn’t simply about what you say, but what you don’t say."

"Consider this example! You are at a gallery showing with a Bohemian friend. His is one of a number of paintings. You discuss each painting with him as you stroll by. Some other artist's work is exceptional! A mutual acquaintance's is superb! You approach his work and it's…"

"Good. You tell him that his painting is good."

The Academic chuckled, a dark timbre to their tone. "Now, 'good' is a compliment, isn't it? It's the quality of 'not being bad.' But I think that most of us can understand that, following such strong compliments as 'exceptional' and 'superb,' the word 'good' completely changes meaning. This is the power of context, wherein the gap between concepts creates a new and complex meaning, one different from speaking outright."

"Second example. When you were a child, were you ever forced to endure sitting for a long spate of time with a sibling or similar fellow child? Perhaps on a long carriage or train ride, or whilst attending church or grammar school? Perhaps you have clear memories of this scenario:"

The Academic abandoned their chalk and the lectern, and approached one of the students in the front row. They lifted a finger, pointed a claw at the student's head, sharp clawpoint an inch from the bridge of their nose.

A terrible smile. "I’m not touching you."

They continued, not moving their claw. "Is this a lie? Well, there's the crux of our second example. It's a child's exultant first brush with Mithridacy, isn't it? It is the skirting of the main topic where the attention is drawn. The maddening desire to box your sibling’s ears, because though they are speaking the truth, that maddening not-touch is twice as irritating than them crossing the line and jabbing a finger up your nose."

They withdrew their finger from the student's radius, returning to the lectern. "In class today, I want you to pair off and have a conversation. I want you to circle a topic, but never broach it. I want you to feel the weight of something left unspoken. Simply because you don’t speak something doesn’t mean it isn’t there. Craft meaning using absence."

They withdrew a pitcher of water from under the lectern, pouring themself a glass. "Oh, and do this in English. I can’t teach you how to do this in any other languages.”

Was that a puff of visible breath, coming out of The Academic’s mouth? Or just a trick of the crystal-ware as they took a sip?

“The Correspondence is a language of heat and substance. I have no lesson plans or guidelines whatsoever to specify what goes on in the spaces between.”

As though glass were cracking, The Academic’s water froze over. With a tiny, self-satisfied laugh, they set the glass down, then breathed twice into their hands, warming them up. A slight breeze picked up in the room, warm air rushing toward the frigid spot around the lecturer’s podium.

Eager to fill in the gap.

“Your homework this week is to write your first letter in The Correspondence. You're all coming along splendidly, and I think you might be surprised at how ready you are. Keep it down to four symbols, and use flame-resilient paper. Imagine you are going away for a while on a research trip, and you are writing a letter to explain your absence. Write your first draft in English, write it as realistically as possible, and submit both the English and Correspondence versions, so that I can check and see if you’ve communicated your intent clearly. Extra points if you pick someone who does in fact exist and would hypothetically require such a letter. Personally, I know that I write better when I can imagine a specific person reading it.”

“Class dismissed.”

Comments

Sign In

[theexdisgracedacademic]

Collapsy-style, if you please.

Re: Sign In

[tolpen]

Enter and sign in the Mycologist. He's looking crisp today.

Before Cla- Oh wait huh!

[theexdisgracedacademic]

Oh dear, is it starting already?! Offer suggestions: Why would someone from the administration want to sabotage your sweet little class?

Re: Before Cla- Oh wait huh!

[tolpen]

As the Mycologist sets out his notebooks (now there are two doily-covered flameproof notebooks, plus his brick of one which has already gotten brickier) and his sliding ruler and his pencil and his pens, he mulls the question over.
Ultimately he lands on: "Even if the course is cancelled, we still can continue as an informal study group, can we not? Whatever and whoever is the Benthic administration afraid of so, outlawing a poorly defined congregation of studious nature would be rather destructive to the university as whole."
(He never would have thought having some lawyer backing would ever be of use. Colour him surprised.)

But of course, the Mycologist had some suspicions. Rather than to speak them out loud, he'd rather if others came to those conclusions on their own, perhaps with little direction. However, one cannot be a midwife of ideas without blood being spilled. (You have seen a childbirth, haven't you?)
Thus he makes ready to duck under the desk if it at all looked like objects or hands might begin flying and shoots out: "Hastn't thou got more vital matters across the zee and the miser-roads that wait for no man? I would have thought thou wouldst be far more enthusiastic to be," he makes a sweeping gesture to the whole class, "rid of us."

Re: Before Cla- Oh wait huh!

[theanachronistictailor]

No time to think very hard! Oh dear!

"Er- Perhaps a higher power, such as the Ministry itself, has finally taken note of the class and has made the first formal moves to prevent the further spread of knowledge," the Tailor offered. "Although the direct statement of such would only draw more attention to the class as a whole, I would think? A S_____ian effect, as named for the Bohemian actress."

Re: Before Cla- Oh wait huh!

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

Maven thought about it.

"There could be a few reasons I suppose. Shifting politics among the higher ups cause them to change their earlier stance. Or an outside force, like the Ministry of Public Decency, puts pressure on them to reverse the decision. The incident a couple of weeks ago could, in theory, have convinced them the course is no longer worth the risk to teach."

Re: Before Cla- Oh wait huh!

[themorbidsocialite]

The Morbid Socialite had been about to protest the sign before noting the Academic on the stool, making every effort to remove the blasted thing. Class would continue as normal, it would seem, or as normal as this class may have ever been. The Socialite shared a fond nod with the Academic as he walked in and chose a seat.

Did the Socialite look different today? Was it just the missing hat? Oh, no, there was also the sparsely-bloodied lab coat draped haphazardly over their usual fine, but worn attire. He finally seemed to realize the mistake as he sat and sighed as he pulled it off and stuffed it into the overfull gladstone bag, leaving him what might have been half dressed, with only the shirt, vest, trousers, and any clothing items unseen.

It wasn't long before the Academic was inside and posing the question of import. Viewing other's responses, the Socialite nodded and posed his own potential answer. "Could it be a conflict of interest within the Ministry? The more or less sudden disapproval of the class, despite a seeming ignorance or apathy towards it for weeks, may suggest a particular individual or group of individuals taking action where the Ministry as a whole will not for some unknown reason in either case. Efforts from the Ministry and following efforts by the University are rather hot and cold, action followed by inaction followed by stronger action."

Re: Before Cla- Oh wait huh!

[ticktopis_observatorium]

The Chimeric Professor took their usual seat, and prepared their studying implements still rumaging through ideas. The limitating Law, the letter, and now the sign. Who could be the mysterious malefactor...?

Such a coincidence that very question is the one posed by the Academic. So they raised their hand -still a hand, not a claw, just now mixing more armonically the skin with the scales, longer nails, styled differently- when there was a moment to speak.

"Isn't it strange that at first the official posture of the University was to push you, Emissary, into this class but now their efforts are turned against it? Maybe the whole point of this seminary was to force you to act against your wishes, and as soon as you found interest in the project, sabotage would take the opposite direction..."

Tapping their fountain pen against their almost-absent chin. "That makes it sound like a too petty motivation to pin it to the Ministry. Specially taking into account the symbol, it is more their style to erase those than to inscribe them. But who would mix influence over the University, knowledge and carelessness towards the Correspondence, and a particular grudge against you, which touches into contacts with notebook purveyors? Perhaps a fellow rival Academic? Or maybe... A Master?"

The last declaration accompanied by a mimicry of writing with two hands at the same time, given that they already know to discard Pages, the closest likely rival should be Iron.

Re: Before Cla- Oh wait huh!

[leviathanlovely]

"Simply put, I think they're trying to oppress our teachers creative freedoms." the Pupil muttered to another, idly too passive to be considered an actual conversation. "Perhaps in fact, surely someone else in the staffroom is supposing there is very little benefit to students catching fire and post-hasted'ly being extinguished!" They shook their head. "And they would be wrong, of course."

Re: Before Cla- Oh wait huh!

[theliedpiper]

The Piper loves a good mystery. Intrigue intrigues them; they wouldn't be where they are if it didn't.

But they're tired.

"Maybe someone just wanted to scam us all out of tuition." Not a very good guess, but nobody's going to expect anything insightful from them, anyway. "Cancel the class, stop paying you."

Maybe it's not a terrible guess. The Emissary hadn't seemed excited to teach at first. The admin probably thought they'd quit and leave the students hanging of their own accord. Piper had seen (and participated in) similar grifts before. But they doubted the University was quite as desperate for cash as the odd grifter.

Re: Before Cla- Oh wait huh!

[the_brash_devil]

"Cause they're a bunch of chicken shit cowards afraid of anything more than 'theories' and 'hypotheticals', more obsessed with image than getting actual answers," Devil threw out, more as a pithy jab at the university staff than a serious guess. No, he wasn't still mad about Maven getting briefly kicked for being truthful when asked, not at all, why would you even think such a thing.

The Actual Lecture

[theexdisgracedacademic]

You're not being taught anything. You're just listening to a couple unrelated stories.

Re: The Actual Lecture

[theanachronistictailor]

Now this was a fascinating change of course. The Tailor had gotten fairly practiced in society with the idea of implication, of never addressing the obvious subject, but it also required an incredible subtlety. It was a little like sleight of hand, in that you drew a person's attention in a certain direction, wasn't it? You could lead someone to a conclusion through a carefully set path, but this: this was about looking at a puzzle and discerning the shape of a missing piece from what was around it... right?

Well- no. Not at all. This was about what absence itself said-

There was a claw in the Tailor's face. It was long, it was elegant, it was sharp, and it was followed by a comment that caused the Tailor's eyes to narrow; and then their face relaxed in its entirety.

That was right. The lack of an expression was a response in itself, wasn't it? It implied one thing or another; disinterest, the lack of being impressed, a clear control of one's reaction in the face of a taunt. And they were actually very familiar with this kind of taunt, after all. In fact, it took control not to smile, even an irritated one. Did an eyelid twitch? Certainly not.

This was going to be an interesting experience, certainly. Even as the claw was removed from the space between their eyes, the half-lidded lack of reaction remained. But now the Tailor was thinking.

Well. They had plenty they didn't want to talk about in any case. It was time to put theory into practice. Or maybe the better way to phrase it was that it was time to talk about nothing of significance at all. It was certainly not as though the Tailor has any interesting experiences to share from the past week, in any case.

Not at all.

Re: The Actual Lecture

[tolpen]

It starts like usual: The tools, the notebooks. This time no coffee. Avoid looking at the blackboards before anything is written on them.
Of course, spacing and kerning are important concepts. Simply don't think too much about it. It is not that deep. But by the time the first example is finished, the silence on what the Academic is not saying roars like a hurricane.
Which is entirely the Mycologist's fault. The Academic hasn't said a thing about silences and things that aren't. He made the connections. If he focused on the literal meaning... If only he didn't focus on the potential of the empty space...

The Mycologist is very, very still. And also very, very cold, but that is his problem. His thoughts are a raging current, a freezing flash-flood through his mind. And his face and body are completely motionless.
Maybe... maybe if he doesn't move and doesn't speak... maybe if he doesn't draw any attention... Maybe if he isn't perceived, he isn't there and this isn't happening.

No words.	No movement.	No thoughts.	No sound.
Nothing	no regrets	no sound	no future
no past	no thing	no	no present
no	no	no	no

Re: The Actual Lecture

[theliedpiper]

A laugh bubbles up in the back of the Piper's throat. Dancing around the subject! It's as though the professor has crafted this lecture just for them. A specially-tailored - no pun intended - out for the difficult conversations the Piper definitely hasn't been resolutely avoiding.

Yes, whoever decides to pair off with them would find that the Piper is no stranger to the art of saying nothing with far too many words. No stranger at all.

Activity

[theexdisgracedacademic]

If any students manage to talk around a very weighty subject, then the air around them might take a slight chill. If anyone attempts to do this with The Correspondence, expect fire or ice. Or both.

Re: Activity

[themorbidsocialite]

The Morbid Socialite stood and touched the shoulder of the Undistinguished Pupil, a slip of regular note paper falling into their lap. It read simply 'After the Professor.' A request to conversation, the moment the one with the Professor was over.

He touched the arm of the Chimeric Professor as he approached. "A word, if it's no trouble. Or perhaps you're occupied." The Socialite did have a habit of giving hints as to what was intended by more subtle turns of phrase, but this was a lesson in finding meaning in absence, in words unspoken, not in gesture and body language. Context should hopefully prove enough to communicate that they had noticed the tie between the Professor and the Mycologist and would not wish to intervene, should the Professor be preoccupied as such.

Re: Activity

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

Maven approached Piper. She debated on approaching them, but hopefully the promise of not having to bring up the events of last week will make them less compelled to run away.

"Hey Piper, is it okay if we talk? I had something I wanted to ask you."

Re: Activity

[theanachronistictailor]

Right, nothing else for it. The Tailor turned in their seat, slipped their hand into their bag, and faced (what they hoped was still) their friend the Piper, setting a familiar notebook in front of the individual. Left behind from the week prior.

"It would be a tragedy if the wrong eyes were set on this," they said quietly. "And I don't recall anything happening last week that deserves you losing track of a valuable item."

How much could the Piper pick up? Were they even doing this correctly? This was a game of words again, of choosing carefully what to include- and what not to. Implication could fill a space, but if it were misread entirely... they sighed.

"A number of people missed your presence. Nothing prevented that."

Re: Activity

[tolpen]

The Mycologist sits in his seat, not moving an inch. He isn't attempting to initiate a conversation.
Truth be told, he doesn't look as approachable or comfortable as he usually does. It isn't impossible that he feels badly for getting on on the wrong foot with the teacher today. After all, nothing else has happened today that would warrant such discomfort.

He also isn't curled up in a ball in a corner of the room and he isn't screaming his lungs out.
It isn't as impressive as it would be in a room that is not round and in a society which isn't as reserved as the one the London.

Re: Activity

[theliedpiper]

Piper cleared their throat and tapped the Devil on the shoulder. They'd patched things over with several of their classmates already, but there was one who hadn't reached out to them yet who really deserved an apology.

"Um. You don't look like you need a liver transplant."

After Class

[theexdisgracedacademic]

The Academic scratched something into the purloined sign, and then tossed it into the wastepaper basket. The contents promptly caught fire.

Honestly, not that irregular for a Tuesday at Benthic.

Re: After Class

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

The alarm bells had never stopped around the Academic, Maven had simply gotten better at compartmentalizing them whilst having them as a teacher these past few weeks.

But that homework assignment was impossible to ignore.

So after class she approached the Academic, "Emissary, I have a question about the homework, just a clarification about the hypothetical scenario we will be writing about. Is this research trip a voluntary one or one we are being forced to go on? And, in your opinion, would it be better to include a set time for how long the research trip will be or should we be vague about the length of the trip?"

Re: After Class

[themorbidsocialite]

Suppressing a shiver from lack of a proper coat, the Morbid Socialite stood and made their way to the Academic in a something of a hurry, leaving their things unattended for the moment.

"Esteemed Emissary," he greeted with a nod. "I'd hoped I might have but a moment of your time before you leave. It's about what I'd mentioned only in passing last class."

"I had forgotten to speak of it then- and I suppose now, the day before I'm due to leave, is somewhat late- but I was hoping you might have advice or resources with regards to the expedition South. You're quite the traveled Correspondent, so I thought you might perhaps have insight that I lack. I captain a zailing ship, yes, but it's not often I use it and I've certainly not gone in the direction in question, so anything you can provide or inform me will be of great help, I'm sure. That is, should you have the time and willingness to provide such assistance. Busy as you are, I can respect, if I must be left to my own devices."

OOC

[theexdisgracedacademic]

This lecture contains no spoilers at all for any esoteric plotline in the mid game. None whatsoever.

Re: OOC

[leviathanlovely]

sitting squarely in what I can assume to be very early on; hmmmmmmmmmmm I believe you! ^^ Great work and art as usual may I say!!