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: Sign In

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

Once more The Soft-Hearted Maven walked in with her companion and signed into the class. She glanced around, "Looks like we managed to get here earlier this time. Same seats as last time?"

Re: Sign In

[the_dye_stained_socialite]

Against all odds, Thursday was on time today. Had the University become any less labrynthine for them? They sat a mug of Darkdrop Coffee down by the sign-in sheet. No. They had opted to wake up early today.

This time, the Pawn chose the rightmost seat of the frontmost row.

Re: Sign In

[tolpen]

This time around the Mycologist arrives early and in much more proper clothing. Although he is carrying the jacket over his shoulder rather than wearing it.
He walks into the class with the spring in his step and the breathlessness of a man who has been giving himself a pep talk as he went up one flight of stairs after the other.

He signs his usual spiderweb (Actually, are>/i> those Latin letters?), and then drops off to find a seat. He ends up in the second row, again, but this time he is sitting at the edge of the row. The hinges are oiled and make no sound.

Re: Sign In

[theanachronistictailor]

The (aspiring) Anachronistic Tailor was early, today. Not, as they had assumed they would be, the earliest, but it was a marked improvement. This week, they chose to leave their items in the middle row, on an end seat, as to not be pinned on either side. They left their signature (smudge of a thing) on the sign-in sheet, and then took their seat.

Re: Sign In

[ticktopis_observatorium]

The Chimeric Professor came without rushing but without much time to spare either, finding the class already crowded and smiling because of that, returning to the middle-front seat they chose the first day and is still mercifully free.

Re: Sign In

[theidiosyncraticmechanic]

The Idiosyncratic Mechanic bolts awake after a particularly hard closing of the door to the class, which had startled it out of it's sleep. the mechanic being the first one here by hours, considering it had entered and slept here the day before. Scrambles to the sign-in sheet, only a little visibly disappointed that its chicken scratch of a signature isn't proudly displayed on the top of the sheet.

Re: Sign In

[themorbidsocialite]

The Morbid Socialite raced in, shoes skidding on the flooring and nearly knocking his hat off his head. He refused to be late, but something had happened the night before and he had to scramble to be on time that morning. He quickly signed in without paying much attention and found the nearest empty seat.

Re: Sign In

[theliedpiper]

The Lied Piper scribbled their name near the bottom of the paper. Fashionably almost-late again. This time, it had been because they'd wasted time trying to convince Charlie to tag along. Apparently the rat didn't trust that getting glared at by a freaky professor and sprayed down with water would be a fun time. His loss.

After a moment of deliberation, the Piper took the open seat next to the Brash Devil. It was always fun to bother the Tailor, but it would do them some good to be forced to make more friends.

Re: Sign In

[stygean]

The Scientist, unlike his usual manner, was not rushing in, but very much like his usual manner, his gaze dared anyone to try and comment. The dark circles under their eyes were even darker, and they eyed the Socialite’s darkdrop mug with a painful yearning. They didn’t look anyone in the eye as they signed in and took their seat, hoping it wouldn’t be too obviously close to the Maven’s

Re: Sign In

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

Maven noticed The Scientist sitting nearby and turned to them. She noticed the dark circles under his eyes but did not comment at first, instead saying, "Hello Larix, how are you today?"

Re: Sign In

[the_brash_devil]

The Brash Devil jumped slightly as Piper took the open seat on his other side. He blinked, glancing over at Tailor, then back at Piper before saying bluntly, "Why are you sitting here and not with the Tailor???"

Re: Sign In

[the_brash_devil]

"Not like changing the seat is going to make a difference," the Brash Devil remarked as he signed in.