benthic_university | Correspondence Scholarship, Class Two [Tuesday Morning, June 17th]

When the students arrived to their domed classroom, there was a broad-shouldered clay man standing before them. A pair of goggles were awkwardly affixed to her face. The hour to begin arrived, but no other tutor came with it.

The Clay Substitute laid her hands upon the podium. "PLEASE. OPEN YOUR TEXTBOOKS TO PAGE-"

Much the same as last week, there was a hubbub in the hall outside. The door slammed open, and one figure marched another to the front of the class. The Beleaguered Dean, swathed in a coat of thick tweed and a thicker coat of nervous sweat, was all but pushing The Ex-Disgraced Academic back into their pace behind the podium.

The Academic wasn't missing a beat in the argument: "-can't at all see what the issue is, so long as they learn the material-"

"You cannot offload your duties to an Underclay aspirant!" The Dean's fury is only matched by the fearful tension in his voice, "And an unfinished one at that! How did you get it up here-"

The Academic's eye widened in almost-honorable affront. "You can't prove that this perfectly capable worker is unfinished, can you?"

"No, but I can certainly prove that it's not on the faculty list." The Dean wiped his brow. "Get on with it, man!"

The Clay Substitute barely moved, but the grinding of her turning head rumbled through the floor. "I WAS TOLD THAT I WOULD BE PAID IN FULL, REGARDLESS OF HOW LONG CLASS WENT?"

Coin was exchanged, and, the Dean ushered The Clay Substitute out of the room. The Academic hissed through their teeth, clearly ready to vent their terrible mood at the first faces to cross theirs.

They turned to look at the class. And smiled a terrible smile. "Good morning."

Targets acquired.

"So! You've all decided to return for a second week. I suppose it can't be helped. Any damage you incur from here on out is upon your own heads." They began their lecture.

“English is a phonographic language, as the distinct letters of the alphabet each represent units of sound. The Correspondence is logographic, meaning that similar to the languages of the second and fourth cities (and the Khanate, of course), Correspondence Symbols each represent units of meaning.”

In bold, rapid strokes, The Academic scrawled a symbol onto the chalkboard:

They whirled around, pointing an accusing claw at anyone unfortunate enough to still be moving their pens. “Do not copy this into your notes! If you fancy yourself cheeky and attempt to copy it whilst my back is turned, I will still know, so do NOT try me.” They turned back, circling the image. Anyone foolhardy enough to ignore the command would earn immediate combustion to their notebook, and a quick, scathing look of satisfaction from The Academic.

“This is the symbol for “an unmappable direction. It is one of the more frequent symbols to be found in practical human application of The Correspondence, as well as in architectural engravings ranging from first city ruins all the way up to lapsarian London. It is also exceptionally flammable. None but the most expensive of papers can contain it.” And with a terrifically wicked smile: "Chalkboards are fine, though."

They continued. “The Correspondence is a purely semiotic construct. There are currently no known pronunciations or verbal applications for these signs-“ The Academic covered a bark of laughter, and then continued, “-apologies, but I would hate for my lectures to contradict the well-documented research that the Ministry of Public Decency has gently requested I adhere to."

The Academic pushed their current chalkboard up and out of the way, revealing an unblemished second layer. They added a tidy column of six simple symbols. "There are one hundred and eight basic radicals, and we've discovered twice as many in total. But for this course, we will begin with six."

Six symbols

And, after writing these on the board, the academic turned to the students. “These you may record in your notes, however-“ their tone sharpened, slicing through the momentum of those who may have rushed to begin- “confine each radical to its own sheet for practice. None of these, alone, is a complete symbol. But some can be converted very easily into real Correspondence symbols, and it is vital that you do not accidentally do so. Spend the rest of today's duration memorizing and practicing these radicals until you can reproduce them by heart. You'll know if you're doing well, because you paper will become warm to the touch once half-full. I will also be writing additional complete correspondence symbols on the other chalkboards. Your homework is to discern which of these six parts of speech each of the symbols is.”

symbols

The Academic pointed once more at the spray bottles on each row of desks. “At any sign of smoke, you are to douse the offending student’s work, without hesitation. Last week was not a one-off exercise. Consider this both a basic safety precaution, as well as your first taste of operant conditioning. Get to it!”

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

After the debacle that had been last week, the Tailor had done everything in their power to prepare in an effort to keep it from happening again. Clothing that focused on linen and wool, for water absorption and fireproofing. Extra cloths to pat themself dry. Extra hair gel, for after class's inevitable dousing. (Alright, that one might have been a little ridiculous.) Extra paper, pilfered pencils, and... well. This last one felt a bit embarrassing in retrospect.

You see, they'd already been attempting to improve their embroidery, and after a certain interaction last week, they had been thinking about attempting a small peace offering. It wouldn't do to make enemies. Their master had nearly danced when it was brought up, and while they certainly were not about to be handling thread made of proper gold, beetle wings were not particularly hard to come by. If an opportunity presented itself, they would offer the small swatch of fabric--but otherwise it stayed safely in their bag, for now.

They'd arrived much earlier this time, but the Clay Substitute was already in attendance (as well as a stranger in the back, whom they avoided). Well, they couldn't win it all. Still, they felt much more optimistic about today. When they sat properly with their personal unfinished embroidery to experiment with, the Tailor was almost smiling.

The Soft-Hearted Maven spotted Tailor taking their seat. Good timing, the Tailor wasn't the only one with a peace offering. She still felt bad about how their last encounter had ended and wanted to make up for it, in her own way.

She approached them, removing a small box from her carpetbag as she did so, "Hello Tailor! Are you doing well today?"

"Better," they said, putting their work aside. They glanced a subtle peek around the Maven to the Devil behind her, mostly to gauge his attitude today, and then met her eye. "A new week means a fresh start, I think. What can I do for you this morning?"

"Well, I was baking more of the scones for the kids before I got here, and I wanted to bring you some since you gave me the recipe in the first place!" Maven held out the box as she spoke.

The more subtle secondary gift was around the box. The box was wrapped in a nice handkerchief. Nothing too fancy, but it was of a pleasing texture and the color complimented the Tailor's eyes and complexion well.

She said it terrible loudly, didn't she? The Tailor resisted all urges to sink in their seat, glancing around the room. "That, er, as I said, the credit should really..." Awkwardly, they reached out and accepted the box, with the hope that doing so would speed along the interaction, or hide the evidence maybe.

But when it was in their hands, the dark and lovely fabric felt so correct there that they found their fingers relaxing. Quietly, they beheld it, and then without further fuss put it into their bag on the chair. "Thank you," they finally said quietly without fuss.

When she saw the initial look on the Tailor's face she winced. She realized she had let her excitement get away from her. If her grandfather was still around... she could already hear the scoldings of how a proper young lady should be demure and unassuming, how she needed to try harder with all her... disadvantages, as he'd put it if he wasn't in a mood to list every personal failing of hers.

She breathed, lowering her voice and nodded, "Your welcome. I hope the rest of class goes well." And with that, she gave them a wave and walked off.

Correspondence Scholarship, Class Two [Tuesday Morning, June 17th]

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