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benthic_universityIt took a while to find the classroom. The halls of Benthic were in turns stately and wild, and to catch snippets of conversation is to risk getting drawn into conversation (risky), or someone else's research project (perilous in the extreme). The little slip of paper with the classroom listing was even worse. The number didn't relate to any floor or door, and those that managed to get their nerves up enough to ask for help were treated to scornful chuckles.
"I knew that class was one big prank," chortled a passing member of the Stoats' Club, "even ol' Percy Winship-Widgon wouldn't fall for it, and he's only got half a lobe left to spare!"
As the starting hour for the class drew closer, and whispering doubts threatened to increase in volume, something important clicked into place. The classroom number might not exist on the walls of the building. But it did correspond to the table of contents in one of the many volumes of required reading. And that pointed to a section that referenced a paper that was also in the course materials, a seemingly unrelated architectural discussion of Benthic's construction…
Ah. The dome at the top of the building. Most students hadn't known that there was a room there. Had there ever been a room there?
Regardless. Members of the class made their way higher and deeper into the center of the great structure, and finally came upon a door, labeled with a lead plaque, and the numbers for the much-sought classroom. To squint at it, one would notice the numbers going funny for a moment. Perhaps they didn't look the same to other people. Though to look around, each member of the class would have noticed that they'd made the trek alone. There were no other people to see these numbers.
The room itself was too big for such a small class; three rows of university benches with shelf desks sat in the middle, facing a lecturing podium and a freestanding chalkboard. There were at least four independent layers to the board, and it wrapped a semi-circle around the benches, closing the space off into a much less agoraphobic classroom area.
Atop each bench were sets of goggles, and several silver atomizers. Atop the lecturing podium was a congratulatory fungal bouquet. If your fungiography isn't too rusty, those were ink-caps for success in scholarly ventures, amanita virosa for permanent consequences, and false-blemmigans to wrap the entire thing in a fantastically sarcastic tone of voice.
Class hadn't started yet, and the professor was absent. Students had a little time to introduce themselves to the others.
Was it true that if the professor arrived late, everyone was allowed to go? Surely it couldn't be, in a university setting. But whether it was mis or good fortune, there came the sound of yelling from the hallway.
The voice was a very unpleasant one. In some, it might've inspired fear. But any ear could detect an uncanny edge to the high timbre. "-certain that you could find a last-minute replacement!"
"There aren't any others with your qualifications!" The second speaker's voice had a posh, Etonian lilt, and though he'd raised his volume, his emotions weren't half as compromised. He seemed patient, bordering on amused. "I promised to attempt to find another professor, but it's a very delicate matter-"
"What nonsense!"
"As you say."
"Absolute rot!"
"Indeed."
A sigh. "It's in here, is it?"
"Yes."
A louder, more beleaguered sigh. "Don't think that this is the end of this. We'll speak later."
"Good fortune and happy teaching."
"The next living creature to wish me that is going to learn their first lesson, and it'll be a keen one, I'll have you know that!"
Somewhere behind the chalkboard, a door slammed, and a pair of heeled boots tapped quickly toward the students. Then, a billowing silhouette of opulent white fabric rounded the corner, as their professor strode into view. Threatening a height of seven feet and staring from behind a semiotic monocle and a shock of gray hair, The Ex-Disgraced Academic all but stomped over to the lectern. Their eye seized upon the fungal bouquet, and their long, clawed fingers seized upon the accompanying card. With two passes of a roving eye, they found immense displeasure with whatever was written. They removed a pen from their breast pocket, scribbled something onto the paper.
Then, the entire bouquet went up in sudden, twenty-foot flames, nearly high enough to singe the domed ceiling above them.
As the welcome gift quickly reduced itself to ashes, The Academic took chalk to chalkboard, and addressed the class.
“Well! You’ve all successfully found yourselves in Benthic’s 1899 summer course on The Correspondence. I will be your Professor-” and here, chalk tapping, The Ex-Disgraced Academic wrote their full name on the board. It was a distinguished and somewhat melodic arrangement of syllables, as instantly memorable to the students as it was illegible to their players. “But you may all conform to the decency of good manners, and either refer to me as ‘Professor,’ or ‘Emissary.’”
This second title, they underlined twice, with great relish. “It would happen to be this duty upon which I ought to be spending my time focusing. Vital matters across the sea and on the roof wait for no man. But the Dean is currently embroiled in a-“ the Academic scrawled the words:
PHALLUS-MEASURING-CONTEST
“-with members of the Ministry of Public Decency, and this class is the result!”
It was only at this point that The Academic turned around, to actually look at their students. The sneer wasn't a particularly kind reaction. “The study of this language is only nominally legal. I have been given impeccably strict definitions as to the limits of what may be taught in this class. Which brings us to the prerequisites before we begin The Correspondence in earnest:”
The Academic waved a gloved hand, signalling all the nerds of the class to open their note-books and begin the note-taking.
“Safety Precaution the First: A law is only a law if it is enforceable! Thus, you are highly advised to keep your course notes under lock and key. Anything you learn here might be made retroactively illegal.”
“Safety Precaution the Second! Correspondence symbols are highly flammable! The more flammable the surface, the fewer symbols a material can hold before combusting. Lead can hold precisely seven symbols. So imagine how careful you will have to be with untreated paper.
“Safety Precaution the Third! The threat will come for you-“ the next words rendered in large, block letters, “-IN THE NIGHT. If your housing is anywhere near a sorrow-spider clutch, start sleeping with an eye mask, as well. No more counting on your roommate in the lower bunk to have their eyes taken first: the study of The Correspondence will make your eyeballs like catnip to the sorry scoundrels.”
“And that brings us to the last and greatest peril to your freshly opened eyes. Safety Precaution the Fourth: When practicing, from now on, you will always wear your goggles. It doesn’t matter whether you are crafting poetry or practicing penmanship. You never write a stroke without eye protection, because you are always one mis-stroke away from permanent injury.” The Academic tapped a claw along the edge of their Semiotic Monocle. "I never take mine off. Easily solved."
The Academic tossed the chalk aside, and returned to the lectern.
“Today will be a warm-up. Practice writing sentences in English with no more than four words. One sentence per page, and do not use the back. I want twenty sentences from each student by the end of the period. If you notice another student writing a fifth word on any paper…” The Academic picked up the nearest atomizer, regarded the smoldering wreck of the bouquet…
…and then let loose on the nearest student; spraying water from the atomizer straight into their face.
“…douse them.”
The Academic placed the bottle back down, careless and casual as though they'd done no more than continue talking. "Get to it!"
As the class drew to a close, not a single eye was watching the clock more closely than the unblinking pupil of the professor. The second hand hit twelve, and they were to their feet.
“Well? Off with you! Haven’t you anywhere better to be? I certainly do.”
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-10 05:03 pm (UTC)This was less out of etiquette, and presumably more out of an urge to study others from a vantage point they would have had the time to locate before the arrival of the to-be-studied. One could learn a lot about individuals from watching when they arrived to scheduled events, and how those individuals acted at those times whether they were early, punctual, or scandalously late. But ignoring this reasoning, to watch and gather information, was the sorry fact that the Tailor was terribly impatient.
So they should have been early, in fact they should have been early by at least twenty minutes; more than enough time to choose a seat and study the length of the 'classroom' and the flowers and card before anyone was the wiser, before a single other student arrived to be considered early--and in fact the Tailor was early when they arrived at the place they believed they had been pointed to by the cryptic guidance. They'd taken in the information given, worked with the information they already had, and given their background, it was not hard to see where the confusion had come in.
Oh, yes, it was the dome. They'd simply made the error of believing class was to be on the dome, and not in it.
Excruciatingly embarrassing, if anyone had seen this display. As it was, maybe a bat or two heard the snarl of frustration when the Tailor had finally finished scaling the height of the building, looked at the dome top distinctly not arranged for a classroom setting, looked at their sketched copy of the Benthic architecture, and turned on their heel to slide back off the roof and clamber back down to and through the window they'd opened to climb up to begin with.
When the Tailor finally did find the 'classroom' in question, it was with three minutes (and some seconds to spare) before the scheduled beginning of class. Flush was high in their cheeks, though whether it was from exertion or embarrassment or anger was hard to be certain, and anyway it was already fading quickly as they quietly found an open seat in the final row, not quite next to the back door, but close. (Rather far from the chalk boards, and yet still enough to hear, of course, the ensuing discussion, but with the volume it would be at, that was not exactly a difficult feat for anyone in attendance.) They slung their bag over the chair and then pulled off their jacket and draped it over the back of the chair and the strap of the bag. Now in just their shirtsleeves and waistcoat, the unfortunate 'student' dropped somewhat heavily into their seat and with one hand dug into the bag to pull out a small leatherbound book only barely larger than their hand and a stub of pencil.
Class had not yet begun, and yet, with only minutes before the scheduled lecture was to begin, the Tailor was already scanning the room and its occupants, and taking notes.
OOC: I am going to try not to write something long like this again. someone just had to go make a fool of themself as an opener
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-10 06:22 pm (UTC)"Is all well?" Asked in the tone of offering help if needed.
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-10 06:55 pm (UTC)(Collaboration. Dear god.)
They examined their companion, their appearance but more particularly their manner of dress and their spectacles, before realizing belatedly it was one they recognized; they'd seen this professor not just across the campus but in the classroom setting. There, however, the professor in question had been standing and lecturing, not seated among the attendants.
The smile, forced as it was, became even a bit more rigid. They had just joked about copying someone else's work to a professor. Class had not even begun, and they were off to a fine start.
"Perhaps we could keep that last bit between ourselves," they added a little weakly.
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-10 07:45 pm (UTC)"Don't worry, I am not an authority right now. And we students must stay united, hmm? It'll be a pleasure to share notes if you need it, but I believe you'll be able to follow perfectly well."
After a little silence, they offered a hand to the Tailor.
"The Chimeric Professor, pleased to meet you in the same side of the class."
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-10 09:12 pm (UTC)They sank back into their seat, and their eye subtly turned back to the Professor's attire. "I am impressed you leave time to take classes between your own work and lectures," they said as they up their little book and marked in it briefly. "Though I suppose there's always a way to find room to learn?"
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-10 09:27 pm (UTC)"Oh! And, regarding anachronism in clothing, I think I qualify" showing a bit of their First City paraphernalia. "Since I first visited Polythreme I became enamored with their styles, but I wouldn't bring living attire to a serious class, no. Besides, Fifth fashion is too ubiquitous, Fourth too politically nuanced, Third too exposed, and Second too reviled so... It's the best choice in my opinion"
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-10 10:00 pm (UTC)"You know, half the time when they hear the title, I'm mistaken for a revolutionary. I'm relieved to meet someone who knows my meaning. All that said, I find there's something attractive to what those prior City fashions might say about a person if worn in the contemporary style. As you say, there's associations assigned to the cities, so to find a person willing to use their fashion trends... what might it mean about them? An idea to consider, no?"
Re: Before Class
From:Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-10 08:06 pm (UTC)Oh! But wait, this wasn't just the arrival of another classmate - the was The Tailor, (Or at least someone trying their hardest to be one) and not just any Tailor but the one any number of Urchins would tell you about to make you look spick and span as one might care for - and THIS Pupil happened to care for that sort of service greatly.
Belladonna, The Preening Macaw that lived atop The Pupil's hat stirred slightly as The Tailor passed to get to their seat but quickly settled back into comfort.
The Pupil's hand left their lips, a smile of platitude was left in its absence replacing any lingering humor. They twisted their body in their seat to wave back at them. It was always good to see a familiar (if not overly so) face.
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-10 09:36 pm (UTC)A quick bracing breath, and then the Tailor greeted the Pupil quietly, and the bird as well in politeness. "I trust the alterations to your coat has treated you well? No further issues with the hem?"
(It was not one of the first jobs their master had allowed them to take on by themselves, but it had been work they'd been proud of.)
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-10 10:17 pm (UTC)"Not a hiccup or seam out of place," They exchanged a knowing grin, they had asked for a few more hidden pockets in the previously unaltered gown and whatever odds and ends they currently had stowed away from the nonexistent light of day were securely squirrelled away. "I am very pleased, my darling Belladonna can always tell when something is out of place," They tutted, waving a hand toward the bird as they almost swayed. "I think I have a few more things I'd like brought in, but if you're finally doing full commissions we should definitely talk more!"
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-10 11:14 pm (UTC)"I'm happy to hear it. My employer--" They stopped the thought and chewed on it for a moment longer, before continuing, "If you're willing to arrange things personally with myself, then I'm sure a full commission can be sorted without trouble."
To be trusted to do the whole work themself would be more than they'd been granted before. It would be satisfying. The Tailor opened their little book and left some marks, nodding. Then, with the barest hint of a knowing smile (because who could need so many pockets?), they added, "I trust as long as it's to your satisfaction, price is no object of concern."
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-11 10:03 am (UTC)It was a boast, but not entirely because most of all it was a joke between one and their soon to be well paid confidant should this partnership blossom.
(Because who could ever need so many pockets, indeed.)
For the remainder of the free time they would engage in light banter with the Tailor, musing over the seasons current trends and what they supposed The Tailor's insight on upcoming ones might be.
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-11 01:05 am (UTC)Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-11 03:32 am (UTC)It was a well-established rivalry at this point, without real heat to it. The pair would run into each other at a party. One was spill a glass of wine, or a whole tray in one instance, onto the other. An assassin would be paid. A name would be crossed off a list, and the next week the cycle would begin anew. All in good fun, really. There were, in some small places, betting pools of who it would be at this or that soiree.
With all that said, the nerves this morning were already somewhat frayed. And that was not to mention that the surprise in question had been a box of rats. Mean ones. Really, rather uncalled for. The Tailor reached into their bag and reluctantly waved a small scrap of white linen in the air. (Their embroidery practice. Don't look too closely at it.) "Truce, while we are in attendance. If you can manage to not spill liquids on me for more than five minutes, I can feign gratitude on the matter."
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-11 04:26 am (UTC)No, he was not going soft. There just wasn't any fun picking on the Tailor when they were like this. Nevermind that he's gone after easy targets before, that is different. Shut up.
"Fine, you already got my surprise for the day," The Brash Devil made a show of turning back around away from the Tailor, "I'll just have to get particularly creative next time."
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-11 07:42 am (UTC)She began to fret and worry that she had offended them in some way, but before she could take steps to try and talk to the Tailor her companion, The Brash Devil, had sent an assassin! (she had come to find this out later, after things had escalated even more) And the next time they were at a party, he didn't even wait for the Tailor to make a move or the pretense of an accident and just threw wine in the Tailor's face.
Ever since there's been this strange ongoing rivalry between the two filled with wine, assassins, slander, surprise boxes of cats and rats, and more. She wanted to stop it but strangely enough they both seemed to be having the time of their lives with it. And the Tailor had not involved Maven in these since, and had been strangely amicable, and had even given her recipes that were preferred by the urchins in her care. So she wasn't even sure if she should ask what the initial wine spilling was even about or if the conversation would just be awkward.
Nevertheless, she approached Tailor and gave them a nod in greeting, "Hello. Thank you again for the scone recipe you sent recently. The children at the orphanage loved them; Maria in particular was very happy."
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-11 05:35 pm (UTC)But there were... well, there were friends in her care. While the Tailor had no fond memories of the few years they had been wrangled into orphanages by Londoners who wanted to try to make an upright citizen of them through force, the lot under the Maven's roof had only passed on good information. Not directly to the Tailor--no, goodness. They were keeping their distance from most of the children. Trying to detach from that life as much as possible.
Which is why when the Maven brought up the scones, the Tailor's demeanor became rather... flustered? They cleared their throat, eyes darting to the desk and across the room, and willed their face to not warm further. "A-And that's--That's good. That's very good. I'm, that's..." They coughed, once. "I care you've been discreet as to where you learned it?"
Listen. If they got defined as a soft touch to the children that used to be, for lack of a better term, family? It was all over. They would never hear the end of it. B____y children.
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-11 07:40 pm (UTC)Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-12 12:58 am (UTC)"Don't thank me, really. I mean it." They forced nonchalant, opening their book again. "Half the recipes I picked up from the Widow who lent me a room when I first--well, in any case she's deserving of more of the credit. Just don't spoil them, alright? Else the lot--Excuse me, or else they'll find reason to walk all over you. Ha."
As if any of the children could.
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-12 01:34 am (UTC)Re: Before Class
From:Re: Before Class
From:Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-13 08:19 pm (UTC)They turned in their seat just enough to address the Tailor, keeping their voice low in a trial of how much the Tailor wanted others to know. "Excuse me, sir," he started, "or madam or any between or outside of. I couldn't help but feel that your face was somewhat familiar. While I do have a theory that you may enlighten me on, I felt it better to ask directly: did you happen to be climbing the roof of the dome some short time ago? Of course, if I am mistaken, feel free to correct me. Goodness knows, I've mistaken many a soul for many other." The Socialite gave a chiming laugh, something to take the edge off what might have been an intrusive question and, hopefully, soften it into a polite conversation starter.
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-14 03:26 am (UTC)If the Morbid Socialite was paying very close attention, they might have been able to notice a twitch in the lower eyelid. The Tailor tried to smile dismissively, agonizingly aware of the people around them. "'Sir' is acceptable," they said smoothly, "Though I couldn't say I know what you're referring to. Someone climbing the roof? I wonder who would do such a thing--or how you would be able to place such a person from so far!"
It was hardly the most graceful lie, admittedly. They'd already come in abruptly, after so many of the others, drawing more notice than they'd have liked. If rumor got out they'd been on the roof--
But if they could make the idea seem laughable...
"Now, I wonder what one would even find up there, besides bats? Do you think a student's gone and left some textbooks up there? Certainly not an easy place to pilfer." They cleared their throat. "Have we met someplace else, perhaps? Someone such as yourself may have frequented my employer, Mr. H_____, the tailor on the edge of Veilgarden. That might be where you know me."
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-14 03:56 am (UTC)In truth, the Socialite saw that twitch of the eye and knew immediately that not only was this the climber before him, but the Tailor did not want knowledge of such a venture getting out. It was something to note, but nothing of import... yet.
Instead, the Socialite smiled. "The roof is hardly a covert meet cute, one perhaps even calling it overt, but perhaps that is the benefit of it. So overt, it circles around into covert, so strange that many do not wish to witness. And, as the conspicuousness of the location circles back around, so, too, does our conversation. It is a pity that I have neither seen you on the roof, nor have I frequented your tailoring employer, but perhaps a classroom meeting shall suffice. I am the Morbid Socialite, Mementomori Malodrema, though you may call me Maury. A pleasure to meet you, dear..." The Socialite paused, expecting a name and/or title.
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-14 07:09 am (UTC)They didn't give a name so much as a set of initials and a last name, and then, "But the epitaph I most prefer is one Anachronistic Tailor. At the very least, Aspiring." They were slightly more than an apprentice, but slightly less than a proper tradesman. Perhaps one day they'd be finally able to open their own shop in the side streets of the Bazaar--until that happy day, it was work and reputation.
Speaking of... "That name rings familiar to me... not the same Socialite that's known friend to the artists?" 'Friend' was a polite way of putting it, wasn't it? The Tailor did not have much interest in the writers' circles (they preferred the company of costumers and seamstresses) but it would be hard to miss some of the repeated whispers from the Honey-Dens. Not that it mattered to them one way or another.
Re: Before Class
Date: 2025-06-14 01:32 pm (UTC)The Socialite's golden eyes did shine in the low lamplight, his grin seeming sharp and hungry. Was it purely for knowledge? Surely, it must be, for what else was there that would be of use to one such as him? "Kind sir, please, do sate my curiosity, but what does one as skilled in observation and memory need in a class such as this? Do you want for adventure, perhaps? Or a means to an end? Please, do forgive, if it is an intrusion, but you've piqued my interest, gentle Tailor. What does the Correspondence mean to you?"
Re: Before Class
From:Re: Before Class
From:Re: Before Class
From:Re: Before Class
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