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

[theexdisgracedacademic]

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."

 

 

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.”

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!”

 

Comments

Re: Activity

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

Maven spotted out of the corner of her eye the Mycologist's work beginning to darken and the scent coming off. She picked up the atomizer and sprayed as lightly as she could (which, with the modified atomizer, was still pretty powerful), "Sorry."

Re: Activity

[tolpen]

A yelp that one would expect from a cat with a paw stuck underneath your careless shoe escapes from the Mycologist's throat. For a terrible moment the man is absolutely not comprehending what has just happened. He turns to Maven very, very slowly, as if he wasn't sure whether or not there is more water where this splash came from.
He pulls his goggles back, staring at her completely aghast. "What in-" That is when he notices his sheet, black with graphite and carbonisation, and now also thoroughly drenched. (That was to be expected, water drips down and when one's face is bent over a paper...)
The Mycologist quickly corents himself: "My thanks to thee. It seems I have gotten... carried away. Ahahah, a novice mistake."

After a moment of hesitation - He is not entirely sure the Soft-Hearted Maven won't douse him again, just to drive the point home. - he procures a a handful of kerchiefs from his briefcase, dries his desk and hands. He than bins the offending blackened paper and begins to write on a new one. This time his work is certainly slower and the characters are further apart. No danger of self-combustion there, although the paper does get warm. Well, the Ex-Disgraced Academic has warned them all about that.

Re: Activity

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

When the Mycologist was turning, Maven was about to spout out more apologies. Maybe she had been mistaken, maybe the Mycologist had the situation under control- but no, she saw that he was so focused that he hadn't seen what was happening. She was sure of that.

Which was why she visibly relaxed when he seemed to understand the situation. She set down the atomizer at his words, "No, it's okay, I'm just glad you yourself are fine." She got out some handkerchiefs of her own (she had made sure to brought an abundance after the previous class, just in case) and handed them to him as well, in case he needed more right now or for later (just in case).