theexdisgracedacademic: (Angry)
[personal profile] theexdisgracedacademic posting in [community profile] benthic_university
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:


a symbol

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!”

 

Re: Activity

Date: 2025-06-20 12:42 am (UTC)
theanachronistictailor: (considering)
From: [personal profile] theanachronistictailor
The almost embarrassed expression turned into something a little more flat and dry. A brow lifted. "If I knew Correspondence, and had put it in there, the fabric would be on fire, wouldn't it."

Although... Correspondence embroidered--no, probably not a feasible idea. Prone to setting things alight. (And in the back of their head that idea kept simmering.)

"If you don't want it, then I'll take it back," the Tailor said, holding their hand out. "Then you will never know what was on it." All of this was said in a very dry tone, more sarcastic, and really, given the excuse the Tailor would take the thing and run from this whole embarrassing scenario.

Re: Activity

Date: 2025-06-20 01:08 am (UTC)
the_dye_stained_socialite: Traditional art of my OC Thursday, with a tired, but neutral expression (neutral)
From: [personal profile] the_dye_stained_socialite
"Yea, no, that was a bad thing to say. Not giving this back though, even if it does set me on fire." the last part was mumbled under their breath. Thursday, it appeared, was not a trusting person. Maybe their loss of hearing could indicate why.

With only a little hesitation, and a lot of care, the paranoid Pawn unfolded the fabric. He gasped audibly. It was a beautiful piece, despite the flaws and cheap thread, and it was thouroughly unexpected. Tears welled in his eyes. The distrust that marred his face was replaced with something much more tender, and only a touch sad. He turned the embroidery this way and that, watching how it caught the lamp-light, and saying nothing further. Then, the artwork was set carefully in his lap, which freed his hands to hide his face, as it rapidly turned pink and teary. There was much snuffling. Despite appearances, this was quite the positive reaction.

One hand lowered to the desk, and scrawled something in plan english on a piece of paper. This they slid over to the Tailor. the paper read "THANK YOU".

Re: Activity

Date: 2025-06-20 04:16 am (UTC)
theanachronistictailor: (pleased)
From: [personal profile] theanachronistictailor
The sarcasm had worked like a charm, but the tears were unexpected. The Tailor felt a little at a loss, and they scrambled a little for a response, finally opting to reach back onto their desk for the bit of cloth they'd used to dry their sleeve. It was only a little damp, and they offered it quietly as a handkerchief, clearing their throat.

"You're welcome," they said lowly, leaning in just a bit to make sure they were heard. "And I'll see about those notes from last week, alright? There wasn't much, at least, it isn't any trouble."

To be kind was always tricky. They don't know why they kept falling into magnanimous acts, and were sure it would only bite them in the end. But they were no good with tears.

Re: Activity

Date: 2025-06-20 05:22 pm (UTC)
the_dye_stained_socialite: Traditional art of my OC Thursday, with a tired, but neutral expression (neutral)
From: [personal profile] the_dye_stained_socialite
Thursday accepted the makeshift handkerchief with gratitude, and took the moment to calm down. The cloth was returned much wetter than before.

"All those hours for me?" she half-mumbled. Then, louder "Thanks. Don't wanna fail the class cause I couldn't see, that would feel pretty insulting. Do you think the Professor would mind if I went up to the board for the last symbols? Actually, do you think I'd catch on fire?"

With one last moment to turn the embroidery in the light, Thursday folded the peace offering, delicately so as to not damage it, and opened his jacket. The Tailor would be able to see spacious welt pockets hidden in the lining of their jacket. There, he tucked the embroidery for safe keeping until he made it back home.

The Tailor would also be able to tell that Tuesday's clothes- jacket, vest, shirt, and probably his corset too- were all slightly ill- fitting, modified with added panels, or taken in with amateur darts. In short: secondhand at best.

Re: Activity

Date: 2025-06-20 07:18 pm (UTC)
theanachronistictailor: (considering)
From: [personal profile] theanachronistictailor
"I would say..." The Tailor risked another glance to the board and then to the Emissary, "likely don't touch them. The symbols or the Professor. And I would suggest asking them for best practices, at the very least so they can feel respected and get to hear the sound of their own voice."

They glanced over Thursday's appearance, taking in the details quickly and quietly. The modified welt pockets in a jacket, similar to their own--they had far too much in common with Thursday, on that front. (They had wanted to sneak a few more onto their waistcoat beyond the simple ones for pocket watch and pencils, but their master had looked at the work and dismissed it outright as unshapely. For the jackets only, for now.)

Secondhand was not at all unheard of--to be frank, the fabric trade down here was more than a little limiting. It was all the Tailor knew, of course, but it was still a pain in the arse to have to go spider hunting to weave one's own fabric. But some folks had a ridiculous stronghold on the finer silks, especially the Surface ones. Still, even the hand-me-downs were usually better fitted. Unless one didn't care, that was.

They tried not to grimace. They hadn't dressed so differently, very early on.

"Have you been in London very long?"

Re: Activity

Date: 2025-06-23 04:59 am (UTC)
the_dye_stained_socialite: Traditional art of my OC Thursday, with a tired, but neutral expression (neutral)
From: [personal profile] the_dye_stained_socialite
Thursday snorted loudly. "I think that's their favorite sound." He raised his hand, intending to ask the professor as instructed, but they seemed preoccupied. "Er... shit. Well, if they kick me out, they kick me out.If not... I'll ask them next week."

He double-checked the fastening on his goggles (still tight), and shrugged. Might as well go up, it was unlikely he could do the work at this distance. Pen and notebook in hand, Thursday made his way up to the board, but kept a safe distance.

They peered at the chalk.The symbols were enlightening, once legible. Shame that they couldn't copy them onto paper yet. So instead, they studied each one as closely as they could.

Then, a thought occured. If they tore a few pages into smaller pieces, and then wrote down each radical seperatly, they could effectively take it back to their desk. It took much longer, but Thursday found that it helped them to understand each symbol easier as well.

So, with their seperated radicals, they returned to their desk, and the Tailor, to think and decipher. Thursday spread the radicals out and looked them over. One radical however, was particularly feisty, and its page had begun to sizzle

She paused when the Tailor asked that, and counted dates on her fingers. "Hmm.. three and a half months now. What about you?"

Re: Activity

Date: 2025-06-23 05:12 am (UTC)
theanachronistictailor: (Default)
From: [personal profile] theanachronistictailor
Oh. They should have expected the question. The Tailor cleared their throat, and grabbed the atomizer to aim it quickly at the paper.

"Me? Oh, I've always been here, feels like," they said, quickly and casually, as though it was nothing, before nudging the small scrap to the floor and blasting it with the water. "That one was being particularly nasty, sorry." The smile they gave was a little tight, if one was actively looking for it.

"Do you enjoy it here? Explored it much? If you're not really settled yet, I know a few places who are kind to newcomers and help them to adjust. It... helps, to fit in, I've found. You get further, faster, in your goals."

Re: Activity

Date: 2025-06-23 10:36 pm (UTC)
the_dye_stained_socialite: Traditional art of my OC Thursday, with a tired, but neutral expression (neutral)
From: [personal profile] the_dye_stained_socialite
Thursday frowned. They didn't appreciate the obfuscation. Maybe they had been too generous with their own information, if they weren't going to be getting much back. "I guess so, huh? You seem to fit in well."

They took a moment to think, and considered the different sigils before them. It was a bit harder to translate the seperated symbols this way, but they liked how their mind felt when solving puzzles.

The first one... a jester? a clown? A person that made others laugh? Hmm... they were still thinking too 'English' it felt. They sighed. Syntax was always hard the first few lessons. The second: strange movement. No, that was an adverb. To move strangely? Three and four were difficult, and the Pawn worried they had the pieces mixed up. It would be a lot easier if they could sound things out. This one was talking about... a quality? But it was describing the quality itself. They bit their lip and furrowed their eyebrows. It was deep and... emphatic? Ah! Resounding. Which just so happened to seem to be the other sigil. Then this one was when a quality was deep and resounding.

What a fascinating and complex language. Who used this? Well, Devils, apparently. The Masters as well it seemed, but with a... Thusday struggled to interperet the Brash Devil's words. An old, 'dusty' dialect, it had seemed.

All that remained was the last sigil. The one that, unfortunatly, had lost a radical. Without it... 'a gathering of fanatics and stories?'. No, that wasn't right. Maybe they would just leave that one for another time.

Did they enjoy it? "Not really, no. I miss the sun," she complained bitterly. "I guess there's new beetles to look forward to. I've explored a bit but..." they trailed off in a shrug. What was there to say? "Kind of just a big, strange, dark fuckin' cave. Feel like I'm not seeing all of it though, ya know?"

Re: Activity

Date: 2025-06-23 11:51 pm (UTC)
theanachronistictailor: (pleased)
From: [personal profile] theanachronistictailor
Did they fit in well? Really? Some days it still felt like every passerby could see through the Tailor. Looked down on them. Worse, pitied them. Nothing could make them angrier than to be viewed that way.

"Oh, the Neath's b____y massive," they said brightly, with astonishing enthusiasm. "Might be dark, definitely full of odd stuff, but when you think about it, there's stories everywhere. Stories on stories, considering all the prior cities. And I mean, what's so grand about the sun? That it's bright?"

There was not necessarily a love for London in the Tailor, for a multitude of reasons, but there was an adoration for the Neath itself that undoubtedly through and revealed, without their intent, how utterly and completely at home they were in it. Maybe some other people who had been born here might wish for more, or feel confined. But the Tailor spoke like it was their whole world, because it was. They'd never known anything else.

But then, maybe that was obvious in the way which they dismissed the sun. It wasn't an intentional disinterest in the whole subject; it just lacked any context.

They glanced at Thursday's notes, only doing a brief scan. "That last one looked like the first, only with another verb across from the first one," they said, pointing a little to indicate the location. "It was a bit more straightforward. If that helps? Have... Have you worked with languages before? You seem pretty well off even with everything broken down."

Re: Activity

Date: 2025-06-24 01:03 am (UTC)
the_dye_stained_socialite: Traditional art of my OC Thursday, with a tired, but neutral expression (neutral)
From: [personal profile] the_dye_stained_socialite
"Okay, okay, what the hell is all this other city shit people keep mentioning and expecting me to know?"

He wouldn't comment on the sun, about all the bright and warm days that could never be again, of the screeching halt of a path he once thought he would lead, and what had brought them down into the dark. He was honestly more concerned with all the 'city' stuff.

Thursday looked between the sigils again, then to their notes. "Oh, I think I see." With that nudge, the parts clicked properly in their mind. They amended their earlier interpretation to now read 'a fool? someone who behaves peculiarly'. Then they considered the Tailor's question. "I have, yea. Someone I uh. One of the people who helps me is a Professor himself. He specializes in phonetics, and knows a lot about languages themselves. Makes this a lot easier knowing all that." They tapped the side of their mouth with the tip of their pen, then spoke again, now with a different, slightly shaky accent. "It's not the easiest to master, and I'm not as good, but it's... useful." They dropped back into their normal accent. "Still, wish they'd teach us how to actually pronounce any of this"

Re: Activity

Date: 2025-06-24 01:28 am (UTC)
theanachronistictailor: (Default)
From: [personal profile] theanachronistictailor
The Tailor's head dipped quietly. They schooled their expression, trying not to obviously react to the minor outburst, or to the shaky but clearly practiced accent. They were thinking very hard about how hard it had been to master their own.

(And it had been hard, and they still slipped sometimes, into the accent associated with the gutter, breathless hs and long as that sounded like is and dropped es, and every time they caught themself they were certain someone would see right through them--)

They blinked and took a breath. "I think it's a likely way of burning your tongue out of your mouth. At least your eyebrows grow back."

It was still proper etiquette English, but they could feel how badly their tongue wanted to relax into old habits. They dug their canine tooth into it, before continuing, "You really don't know too much about the older cities? They say London's the Fifth. I don't pretend to know much about the other ones, but London is on them. Literally, on top of. The last one, you can see a lot of the relics in the Forgotten Quarter. And the Museum. Oh, have you been to the Museum?" With this, they lit up a little. "They have artifacts from the Second City through the Fourth!"

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