2025-07-24: Art is what you can get away with.
- Log: Art is what you can get away with.
- Cast: Pernelle, Saika Kikuchi, Yanagi Nagisa, Tsumugi Kujaku
- Where: Peacock Silk, Shimokitazawa, Tokyo
- OOC Date: July 24, 2025
- IC Date: June 14, 2012
- Summary: Pernelle has created something astounding, and the world will never be the same again.
<Pose Tracker> Pernelle has posed.
It is not unusual for those along Shimokitazawa street to hear the cooing and clicking of a peacock these days, though normally that is when he is strutting outside the fashionable boutique he calls home. But this fine summer day, passerby are blessed with sweet, musical squawking that carries beyond even the hidden entrance way, guarded by the iron gate of his own likeness.
... Those who reside in Peacock Silk, however, are subject to the actual content of Pernelle's sing-squawking.
"We cut and we stitch and we crimp and we dye ~"
Pernelle has abandoned his perch in favor of hopping about like a common sparrow, pecking up scraps and snatching any fallen supplies with his talons.
"Into this realm of artistry goest little I ~"
He has found A NEEDLE, and he is dragging tangled, knotted thread behind him with it from its place in his beak as he searches under furniture for stray beads.
"Oh, awaken, my greatest creation, a story yet untold ~"
Focus Pernelle, focus! This is the most critical part of the process! He has witnessed their crafts a thousand times over, and he has absorbed the sacred knowledge of their crafts!
"Wouldst thou, here and now, witness this journey UNFOLD ~ !"
Pernelle flaps up to the register counter and flicks out a piece of fabric with his talons as it unfurls like a scroll. Scraps of fabric and leftover materials from the shop, gathered over weeks and months, and all stitched together by talon into a disaster clump dangling from a string of beads.
"IT IS... a... PURSE," he announces, whether or not anyone is paying attention.
Pernelle manages about four seconds of silence for his gravitas to land before he begins absently chewing on the beads.
"A Pernelle original! I suspect such a fine specimen shall go for at least five of that pretend number people are so fond of."
<Pose Tracker> Saika Kikuchi has posed.
EARLIER, A WHILE AGO
Saika looked down as Pernelle strutted in and collected some of the scraps that fell off of the stout wooden table, somewhere out of the back, where she cuts leather from the treated whole hides that they often order. This one was a red-dyed hide, good cow stuff. She'd mangled a possible strap. She'd thrown it down. Now Pernelle is leaving with it.
"Huh," she had said then, before placing the punch back down, picking up the mallet, and
THUNK
gettin' back to it!
EARLIER TODAY
Saika was in assembly mode, clasping snaps together. Curiously enough, this purse in specific used one of those self-same red straps. The red leather straps of fate... more popular than strings in some quarters.
Nevertheless, Pernelle is large in footprint if not in actual meaty birdbody. Pause. Watch.
No comment.
CLASP
Back to it.
And then
NOW
Pernelle flaps up to the register counter. He's come to make an announcement, and Saika, who had JUST NOW been tying a hand-decorated price tag to the red-and-brown purse she'd put up on the rack that holds six or seven other eccentric handbags or handbag-adjacent objects suitable for complimenting or contrasting with just about any outfit you can imagine, including the two that resemble a slice of sprinkle-coated white cake hanging from a plain black patent strap and can hold approximately 'one can of coffee, each' -- looks over.
Her eyes widen.
"OH SHIT THAT RULES," Saika declares aloud, and she all but runs over to look at the purse. She sweeps a hand under it, holding it upright. "Look at this," she says, raising her voice to repeat herself: "Look at this!" Back to Pernelle. "This is... maximalist!! So that's what you were doing all this time! Wow! And this STITCHING! It's so crooked and, like... I don't know, it just seems so REAL! It's the authentic vision of a real outsider, profound dinosaurian insights!" A piece falls off. "Woops."
Saika looks at the peacock, then at the thingy of leather with some blue stitches and one (1) bead that fell off, then back up. "Should we get that back on or is that part of your vision?"
<Pose Tracker> Yanagi Nagisa has posed.
It must be so interesting to be a person who can only hear Pernelle as a normal peacock. What must his lovely dulcet songs sound like to them? Imagine the mystery! The wonder! To Yanagi, who can hear every single word, it is a mystery she will continue to have to wonder. But that's all right. Because she's privileged to be able to understand, and therefore hum along as she bobs back and forth, cheeks in her hands, elbows on the table of the station where she should be crafting new jewelry. Several beads of tiger's-eye, polished to a shine, lie in a glass dish; several unpolished beads of hawk-eye await her delicate touch. But it's just beads. There's hardly anything interesting in that--not when there is a peacock making so much better use of similar beads!
"Maybe even six of them," she says with indulgent fondness. She knows he means zero and she went to school long enough to know that's not how numbers work, but it's not like she knows better and anyway it doesn't matter. The boutique's finances are not her concern. "Even Saika's impressed! I didn't think she would be!" ...Nor is being polite.
Once one of those beads falls off, she plucks up a couple of the tiger's-eyes from her station. "If you're hungry for a snack and/or you need a replacement for your purse, would you like some of these beads, Pernelle? I was just going to thread them into a simple necklace, and what you're doing seems /much/ more fun."
Perfect inexpensive goods for the sale they're conducting soon--a bead necklace, that is. Her more high-end projects are in the drawers to her left and right, one of which includes a larimar partway carved with a Mayan-style bust. (Maya blue, you see.) It's a fairly soft stone, which makes detail work both easy and tricky, but that's part of the fun of it. She plans to set it in an ornate silver necklace later.
<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
A great deed has been performed.
And the world shall never be the same again.
"Ara."
Just don't tell Tsumugi. Their focus is... elsewhere.
Where, you might ask? Physically, it's on the very same register counter that Pernelle has so triumphantly landed. There they are, laid out literally atop the counter: they even absent-mindedly shuffle their hips about an inch left-ward to provide Pernelle the stage upon which he might display his glorious works upon a world not yet ready for its magnificence. They're dressed to impress in a deep, oceanic blue gown, high-necked and sleeveless, accentuated with an arctic white-furred stole currently haphazardly draped across the countertop, serving as soft, comfy cushioning for the back of their head to rest again, short black hair pooling beneath them; the blues of the dress become deeper and darker down the skirts until they are an abyssal black by the end of that slit hemline, as if Tsumugi were wearing the ocean depths in miniature.
Physically, they're -right there-. Mentally, though?
*schhfp*
They're far away in the worlds of the written word right now.
The crisp sound of turning paper accompanies the glorious unveiling of Pernelle's perfect peacock purse as Tsumugi absorbs the contents of Haruki Murakami's Kafka on the Shore. Behind red-rimmed glasses, those vividly green eyes of theirs are half-lidded and almost vacantly impassive as they scan through the text; one might wonder if they're even interested in what they're reading, if they weren't so obviously absorbed in it.
Yanagi bluntly enthuses over Pernelle's work; Saika celebrates the rise of Reptite fashion. Tsumugi, however, remains silent, one long leg crossing the other as their fingerless-gloved hand turns the page with another crisp crinkle of paper.
But then a piece breaks off from Saika's sheer enthusiasm (probably (??)). A bead strikes the countertop, bounces once high into the air--
And just before it can crest over the side and become lost forever, a lazily-stretched arm catches it in the glove-wrapped palm of its hand.
Tsumugi, one-handed, turns another page.
"Oh? Do you want to sell it?" they ask, conversationally.
They have not yet seemed to look away from their book for a single second throughout this.
AS: Saika Kikuchi has readied for combat as Frankenstein's Monster! She is now fully healed! AS: Pernelle has readied for combat as ! He is now fully healed! AS: Pernelle has readied for combat as Anqa! He is now fully healed!
<Pose Tracker> Pernelle has posed.
Pernelle puffs his chest fluffier and fluffier with Saika's increasing praise, for it is praise! The greatest of praise! She said it rules, acknowledges his immaculate heritage, and also one of the forbidden words! Fabulous.
"Six!" he echoes Yanagi, stars in eyes.
He watches the pieces fall off, craning his head nearly upside down to regard as Tsumugi artfully captures it. His head is still while his body bobs in place, clawed talons tap-tap-tapping at the counter, feathers along his neck ruffling up before smoothing down as he watches them expectantly.
"Ahem. I should think that perhaps. Yes. We had best suture that back into its most proper and artistically inclined place in the spirit of -- what vocabulary was that? Maximalism? And so is shall be maximized."
Yet he dares not ask for, nor pluck the bead, from Tsumugi's grasp.
But Yanagi is here to the rescue with more beads, and he spreads his wings out with a cheerful rustling of his body. "Oh! They look delectable -- ahem, that is, such delicate finery! The color, striking." He exhales in a most dramatic fashion. "I shouldn't! I shouldn't... for depriving the world of event he most plainest of your pieces would be an unutterable wickedness!"
...
Pernelle stares at the beads and begins to vibrate.
"... Perhaps... if I could carry the sin of but one..."
But does Pernelle want to sell it? It is worth six whole money, according to Yanagi! He pauses, considering this with a tilt of his head every which way angle. He holds up his horriblebeautiful purse, then looks to Tsumugi.
"All creations are ephemeral and this is a truth I have made my peace with before setting out upon this voyage. Go it shall, into a grasp beyond my own."
<Pose Tracker> Saika Kikuchi has posed.
A whole six yens!
"Come on, this is amazing," Saika huffs at Yanagi, putting a hand on her hip and puffing out her cheeks. "Like seriously -- it's just this whole vision! This is way different from when you walked over that ink stand and that paper when we were trying to do the signature mark," Saika tells Pernelle, before looking back at Yanagi.
Saika, for her part, is wearing the kind of thing she often has in the summer. Shorts. Sleeveless tank top. Ratty T-shirt with graphics over it. (Today the T-shirt is white, and it has a silk-screened movie poster on it -- some Italian horror movie with a cool poster. It's faded, both deliberately and naturally.)
Then her eyes turn over towards Tsumugi. She rolls herself a full three hundred and sixty degrees along the counter - which is like walking a step over, but fancier - so that she can lean forwards, folding her arms underneath her and leaning inwards towards Tsumugi: "Look at it. Look. Look..."
One hand slides forwards, index finger extended to rest underneath Tsumugi's chin and provide the slightest, oh so slight push up and nudge to the right. It would be trivial to resist if they wish. But it is, indeed, an Attempt.
After this Saika leans back so that her hair flops downwards and she can turn her attention towards the approaching Yanagi and the artistically triumphant Pernelle. "I think you could get eight," Saika says. "At least seven and a half." Her eyes turn towards Pernelle again, then towards the form. She shifts herself around, since bending like this does actually hurt a tiny bit, and slouches against the counter at a thirty-degree angle, tragically facing away from Tsumugi -- for now, at least.
"One bead," she says. "A delicate touch. I already put my fingers on it -- I think I recognize the strap..." Saika frowns for a moment, perhaps recalling thirty minutes spent searching for it before giving up, but it's a passing cloud on a lovely blue sky.
"You know," she tells Yanagi, "you could do a couple bead strings in a loop with maybe, like, one sliver typing them together, and now you've got a complimentary piece. Ensemble." She says it more like on-som-bley than anything. Realistically: on-som-be-ru.
"That means you could charge extra for the set," she asides to Pernelle.
<Pose Tracker> Yanagi Nagisa has posed.
The dress Tsumugi currently wears is beyond beautiful--it's ethereal, a loving (?) tribute to the mother of all life: the ocean. The stole that accentuates only makes it that much more vivid, a suggestion of a living creature in a deepening, darkening blue that would eventually crush the life of it the further it dove. Yanagi spent her fair share of time admiring it, and them, earlier. But right now they're reading while draped on the counter, so enamored with the work of Murakami that they don't even look away. But that's just their style.
The lost bead is Tsumugi's now. This is the way things must be. And since it is lost, it will now be replaced. Forget the past and embrace the now! The now that is full of boring polished tiger's-eye beads! (They're not actually boring, not really. No stone is. But it's not as exciting as it could be. And if they're integrated into Pernelle's fabulous purse, they will be more exciting. That purse, maximalized, may well become... fabulous max.)
"The world is more fun with sin," Yanagi reassures Pernelle. She sparkles--for it was Pernelle who taught her that. "Isn't it? <3"
And to seal the deal (with the Devil), she grabs her walking stick, perched on the side of her desk, and rolls herself on her wheely-chair over using her stick as a hook and balance. Her skirt is long and layered and fluffy, airy fabric that falls just past her knees; a teal blouse tucks into it, likewise sleeveless; it has detachable sleeves, actually, left behind on a hook on her desk so they wouldn't get caught in her work. Her safety goggles, to protect her eyes against jewel dust, are pushed up past her bangs, as they have been since Pernelle began his glorious little song, and her long, wavy, ashen hair drapes down well past her shoulders. She has eschewed shoes today, and so her feet are bare save for a couple of anklets--gold, with carved rose quartz roses threaded upon them. A moment later, she presents but one (1) single tiger pearl to Pernelle's beautiful beak.
"I didn't say it wasn't! Just that I didn't think you'd be so excited for it," Yanagi tells Saika matter-of-fact while Pernelle does what he will with her offering. "It isn't much like your pieces, is it? Yours are more put together!" ...That's at least a compliment for Saika! More or less! But... seven and a half, or even eight? "Oh my!" She frowns a little, eyebrows furrowing. "Do those many numbers actually exist in the financial world...?"
Her puzzlement soon ends as she giggles at Saika's attempt to coax Tsumugi into looking, to the point of attempting to physically move their face. Will she win, or will their ennui claim victory? She watches closely!
But then Saika suggests a complementary piece. Yanagi gives her a thoughtful look. "Oh, that does sound lovely. Pernelle, what do you think?" She leans forward, dark eyes sparkling. "Shall we make... an ensemble? Then perhaps we could fetch... a perfect ten!!"
She doesn't even know what she's saying anymore, but that doesn't matter. Tsumugi asked if it's to be sold, and Pernelle has consented, and so Yanagi shall support them both in this.
<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
There's a finger on Tsumugi's face.
Somehow, the proprietor of Peacock Silk's expression does not so much as budge save for the simple physical reality of a face shape changing when a forceful finger is exerting itself upon it, which is to say:
Their cheek smooshes just so adorably, and they look completely nonchalant about the entire affair.
Tsumugi doesn't stop Saika's efforts, but neither do they go along with them. The end result is a piecemeal process in which every prod of her poker pushes their peer Pernelle-and-pursewards.
Look at it.
Poke. Five degrees.
Look.
Poke. Five degrees.
Look...
Push. About ten degrees that time. Critical hit!
And slowly Tsumugi's face ratchets up and right until that lidded gaze is turned in the vague direction of Pernelle and his purse, left cheek smooshed against an index finger so much that their eye is squeezed shut, giving the impression of the boutique owner giving the sacred--
-- Wink of Approval--!
"Hmmm."
It's completely at odds with the utter placidity of their expression.
But it counts!!
Saika's good work is marked as a success with the shut-snap of that book as Tsumugi's attention finally affixes on the miracle of fashion the descendent of dinosaurs has wrought. Dark brows climb fractionally over the rim of those glasses as the others debate how many digits and/or yens such a piece could prise from savvy connoisseurs of the arts.
The world is more fun with sin, Yanagi tells Pernelle. A smile touches Tsumugi's lips.
"Why deny yourself?"
And this, it seems, is what gets Tsumugi to truly move: their palm closing around their pilfered bead, Tsumugi is swiftly rising, the suddenness of it bringing long legs kicking up and over and their stole whipping about like a living creature flying through the air. When they come to rest, it is at a cross-legged, seated position on the counter just a few inches from Pernelle and his purse; the hand that had been holding that bead is now empty, planted on their knee. The other --
-- is currently maneuvering the bead between its fingers. Because, after all, it's theirs now.
How did it get there? Never question the magic.
"'Art is what you can get away with,'" Tsumugi quotes, before that empty hand extends towards Pernelle, palm-up. For the purse.
"I know exactly how we should market a piece like this. How long do you think it'd take you to get a proper ensemble done?"
They pronounce it, to perfection, precisely like Saika did. Because consistency is important.
<Pose Tracker> Pernelle has posed.
Such lovely garments those of Peacock Silk dress in, each chosen deliberately for form and for function. And then there is Pernelle, who does not wear anything at all but his own iridescent plumage, though he tried on a little wooly scarf last winter, then slurped up its unraveling form like an infinite ramen noodle the moment spring arrived.
Nevermind that. We are up to SIX YENS!!
Pernelle holds out his talon, wriggling each digit. "Ah, but I do believe I heard some of your enchantingly accentuating vocabulary back then." He cranes his neck and twists his ankle to look to his own wiggling claw toes, fanning his wings out some to keep his balance. "Am I not calligraphy made manifest?"
He most certainly is not.
A peafowl is not terribly emotive in its facial features, but is that an impish smile upon Pernelle's face as Yanagi speaks of sin. He understands well how it sounds to speak with hearts (and tildes, for that matter). "How right you are, dearest Yanagi."
But Saika bids Tsumugi look at Pernelle's creation, and he picks it back up to hold out for them to see, should they look at Saika's gentle Attempt. If he is aware of any tragedies taking place, he has the wisdom not to make a display of it in the here and in the now, nor does he made any effort of his own to get Tsumugi's attention. Simply, the thing-called-a-purse is there to be seen. Or not.
... In the end, it is witnessed. And, more, it is WINKED UPON.
Never has Pernelle's feathers fluffed up so extravagantly, bending the light in prismatic pride.
"Eight!" he gasps. "Seven... and a half?!" Somehow this is even more shocking than eight. This is because he is imagining halves mean that people must rip their currency in half, which is much more fun than wholes.
Surely by now Pernelle should have a better understanding of money than this? Well, he is a thief, and also a bird, and the world is made of many wonders where perhaps he's yet to see something so valuable it warrants ripping money in half.
Yanagi comes bearing precious, priceless gift, and Pernelle leans forward ever so slowly, ever so gently, to take the bead in his beak as if it were made of glass. Do not eat it, Pernelle! It is glorious and beautiful, but it is needed FOR THE ART.
With inversely proportionate force, Pernelle slams the purse onto the counter and pins it with a talon. He snatches up the needle, threads the bead, and then punctures his creation with vicious decisiveness. Thread it through. And... yank back up, with hungering force.
In the prehistoric era, this may be how saurians ripped intestines from their prey, but it may be best not to think about that.
Charge extra, for a set...? An ensemble?
Pernelle's head pops back up.
"Nine," he whispers reverently. No. Ten, Yanagi says, and Pernelle turns his head to stare at her, his gaze lost into the infinite void of dreams.
Ten...
As Tsumugi holds out their empty hand, Pernelle plops his mad creation down into their waiting grasp. He turns his head toward Yanagi, awaiting an answer to Tsumugi's question.
<Pose Tracker> Saika Kikuchi has posed.
(At the wink, there was a smile; but the moving finger of Fate, well, moves on, it's in the name. also Fate in this case is Saika. work with it)
Question not the will of fate; nor They who put a bead in the hands of others. Or the claws of others. Or the... beaks of others... how did you do that, bird
Saika's lips quirk up into a smile at the mention of sin. She straightens up afterwards, rubbing one hand, where her fingers still have the faint dimplings of the clasp-work. "You got to look at the effect here," Saika tells Yanagi. "All of a sudden out of nowhere -- pow! The revelation! The peacock-force in living form! I mean it's just so... so..."
Saika searches for a word as Yanagi approaches and gives Pernelle one (1) bead. ("They do," Saika tells her, "I know so many numbers, for serious") -- "Organic," Saika concludes the earlier sentence.
Tsumugi knows just how to sell this sin. (It was a sin, wasn't it? Or was not selling it a sin? There's a lot of sins going on. Fortunately, God is not smiting them just yet.) "See? You're going to be famous," she tells Pernelle. But then...
SLAM! "Woah," Saika says, eyes wide and mouth forming an O of shock. Thread... and... STAB! STAB! Pull through the bloody injury! Wait, it's not bloody. Red, perhaps, but there are red things that are not blood. Like, at least seven of them.
"Now that you're mentioning it, would it lose the magic if it was done to a schedule?" Saika muses, lips that had formed that 'oh' pooching now down into a frown of contemplation. Of course, the masterwork itself is delivered unto Tsumugi for tsumugissessment; and so, the die is in their court. ("What do you think?" she asks Yanagi, about the possible sacrifice of Spontaneity.)
<Pose Tracker> Yanagi Nagisa has posed.
A Wink of Approval...!
Yanagi claps with a low-high-low 'oooooh'. Even without Tsumugi snapping their book shut, this victory goes to Saika. Their smile only gets her smiling even more--as is Tsumugi joining her thread and kicking themself upright.
Perhaps the greatest victory of all... is Yanagi's!!
Especially as Pernelle smiles as only a beak can. Cane hooked on the arm of her rolling chair, she criss-crosses her fingers, giggling a little 'ufu~' as only one who understands how to speak with hearts and tildes, and admires his proud display as his fine work gains even more Approval. The dichotomy of the delicacy with which he accepts her bead, and the ferocity with which he sews it onto his fine creation, elicits a delighted gasp.
Saika explains that the value of Pernelle's purse is not in its raw look but in its effect. Yanagi's expression turns thoughtful, and she looks it over again in Tsumugi's hands, displayed for all the world to see. Because they are, each of them, all their own worlds.
"You're right, actually! Maybe it's because I work with inorganic material that I couldn't see?" she muses. That thoughtfulness remains at two separate questions: how soon she could make the ensemble happen, and if putting a schedule on it would ruin the magic. It's a little funny that Saika's worrying about that now after suggesting the ensemble in the first place.
"I'm most of the way through the beads anyway, and round beads are so easy," she muses at Tsumugi. "I could have it done today." She smiles warmly at Saika. "If we ride this wave to its end, then it keeps the magic of spontaneity, doesn't it?" She holds out her hands to Pernelle, offering them to clasp with his shimmering wings. "Baton pass!" she declares, which is the opposite of the physical movement going on here, but she isn't concerned with that either. If they were to record it and play it in reverse, it's like if they did it in the proper order!
<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
Look at the fury with which Pernelle forges his masterwork whole anew! The fire! The passion! The raw, disemboweling beakery that would put even the most sadistic shrike to shame!
If that beautiful and horrifying zest isn't art, then what is, we ask?!
Tsumugi seems to think it is, at least, even if their response to all the myriad madness around them is as perennially understated as it ever is in such situations. Calm as the surface of a lake centered directly in the eye of a hurricane, they make known their wordless request for Pernelle's finished piece. When the deed is done, and the MONSTROSITY! --OF ART! is safely if not unevenly plopped into their palm?
Tsumugi slides calmly off the countertop with the dramatic
CLICK.
of heels, and, the abyssal depths of their slit skirts dancing at their legs, holds that purse up to into a beam of sunlight, as if to illuminate it within the solar splendor that it deserves.
Or maybe to let the sun know the splendor of a creation that outshines even its majesty--?!
Either way, that disaffected look of theirs hasn't even moved an inch. An -inch-.
The others talk. Tsumugi, in their own little world again, largely drifts along the outskirts of their banter.
"You can put passion on a schedule," for example, is a distant, distracted aside they offer to Saika and Yanagi's back and forth, "they call it the crunch, I believe. You can squeeze a lot of passion out of a person before they crumble, if you apply enough pressure." Their head tilts, as if fascinated with the purse.
Or the idea of crushing creativity out of a person like a fruit smooshed against a juicer.
"Like blood from a stone."
It's with Yanagi's answer, they refocus. The pivot of their heel sends skirts fluttering like the ripples of waves as they hold that avant... garde... purse up for their inspection.
"I'm curious," they say, sincerely, which makes the muted presentation - and placidity of their expression - a somewhat odd contrast to their inspiration. "There's been a lot of exciting rumors swirling about lately. So, once Sa-ya is done, why don't we open our doors to it? I'm thinking... a sale, for new, potential clientele."
The bead they've been toying with folds against their clenching hand, gone like it never existed when it reopens so that Tsumugi can hold that purse aloft with both hands. To frame it, in all its glory.
"And these will be the centerpieces."
Yes.
They say that, with utter, placid, conviction. They don't even blink.
That's the power of peacock art, baby.
<Pose Tracker> Pernelle has posed.
There are so many sins, and there will be so many more. But until God comes down and stops him personally, Pernelle shall persist with the encouragement of his fellow artists. Everything he performs now, he learned from them. (Did he...)
"Hmm. Fame. Unnecessary! Only one may hold the purse. Fame cannot spare it that truth!"
This might be a practical issue: no one will believe a bird made this, even with it being... whatever the hell it is.
Whatever the hell it is, is made with violence, at least in part.
"Schedules are but another species of pretend number," he says with entirely too much confidence. "Ooh, crunch! How toothsome! Mouth feel is the most critical part of the experience." That statement explains nearly everything about Pernelle's dietary habits.
To be bled dry, to bleed stone dry, goes without protest or commentary.
Yanagi holds out her hands, and Pernelle offers his wings. He is not so flexible here as an Actual Peacock, but has enough to give a little wobble and facsimile of a dance. But what is dance if not a happy movement one makes?
"Baton pass!" he declares after her, his volume twofold.
His train, unraised, gives a quiver of delight as Tsumugi speaks to their curiosity, and to their plots and their plans. Oh, perhaps nothing quite so meticulous as that. But is it not its own craft, the way one thought threads into the next action? His gaze draws up as Tsumugi holds the purse high on a pedestal of their decision. Pernelle raises up his wings with their natural arc inward toward one another, doing his best to stand tall and mirror this posture.
"All hail ~ our greatest sale ~ luring potential clientele ~"
Oh no, he's singing again.
<Pose Tracker> Saika Kikuchi has posed.
"Rocks and crystals have their own shapes," Saika continues as she watches the consideration of Bird and Human considering how to market a minor miracle, "so I don't think it's like totally alien, but you do kind of get a habit, right? Like I know stones are usually gray but sometimes they are literally any color. Plants? Green and brown, basically, most of the time."
Saika is quiet for a beat and a half. "I don't really know where I was going with that," she says with a shrug of her shoulders. She unfolds one hand to run it up over her forehead, along the curve of her head, stirring the hair.
The magic can stay, if they ride that wave. "I think... you might be riiight."
When Tsumugi orbits them, Saika's eyes follow along their passage, but does not turn her face away from Yanagi. Even as they're told about *squeezing*... "Did you say the crotch?" she asks Tsumugi with faux innocence, before there is a turn. A facing. And a declaration. Saika herself, wearing a pair of clunky rubber-soled black boots, pivots around to face the upraised purse with a *squeek* of heel on wood.
Her head lifts as the purse is held high up, an abstract satchel; a thing that has gone beyond representation into meta-representation; in a very real sense, an alien artifact. Some of the beads are translucent enough to admit the filtered light through; twinkling, almost, in the track-lighting of the shops.
Saika's eyes wibble faintly. Raw aesthetic. There's not much chance that Saika *isn't* being sincere, but you don't get that breathless little gasp when you're putting it on, even if you're magnifying real appreciation. She meant what she said; she said what she meant.
"On the street~"
"In the heat~"
"Come and make your look complete~"
With this, Saika does another pivot round the heel to face Yanagi again, and glancing over her shoulder to Tsumugi. Did she steal the song!?
Saika snaps her fingers and tells Yanagi, "Fibonacci! There's like this number that comes up in a ton of different places. I have to find that book again. Or look online I guess."
<Pose Tracker> Yanagi Nagisa has posed.
"They do, and there's even an internal logic to them, depending on the species," Yanagi replies to Saika. (Did Yanagi just refer to different types of stones and gems as 'species'? Well, Saika is trying to meld the organic and inorganic, so why shouldn't she?) She hums thoughtfully at her point about the colors of rocks vs. plants... "I don't know where you were going with that either," is her conclusion.
Speaking of art, isn't there something brilliant and terrible about the CLICK of heels? It's a sound both euphoric and agonizing. Yanagi listens to the CLICK of Tsumugi's heels for an all-encompassing instant. CLICK. CLICK. It is but one CLICK, but it is all the mysteries of creation. (But not the squeak.)
"Hm?" The sound of Tsumugi's voice is the one thing that tears Yanagi from this momentary awestrike. "Hmmm... The crunch... I've heard that, too." Her eyelashes droop. She doesn't bother to say where.
They all know.
But the past is the past, and she brightens when Tsumugi speaks of a sale. "Oh! That sounds exciting!" Her bright smile reflects that excitement. "And, knowing you, you have something exciting in mind to spice it up, don't you, Tsumugi?"
It might or might not involve crotches!
Though what Pernelle says is true, that only one may possess the purse. Yanagi has a different take on that, though. "Won't it be fun to see who wants it the most?" she chirps. Pernelle mimics her hands, and together they do a little dance. Well, in Yanagi's case, it's more like a seated wiggle. It still counts.
And the dance is followed by a song, which prompts a little delighted laugh out of the most recent of Peacock Silk's employees. Oh, no? Oh, yes. Saika follows it up with a round of her own, and then baton-passes the song to her. And she's ready!
"All through town~ Clad in our gowns~ Matching boots and matching crowns~"
...do boots really go with gowns and crowns...? But then, it is the one thing that doesn't rhyme, so doesn't that only fit in its un-fitting way?
Either way, she bounces in her seat to see how Tsumugi reacts! Will they complete the little circle, or will they maintain their cool and spicy shell? Either way will be wonderful!
<Pose Tracker> Tsumugi Kujaku has posed.
Did you say the crotch?
How toothsome! Mouth feel is the most critical part of the experience.
"That's a different kind of encouragement," is Tsumugi's off-hand answer, perfectly placed at the tail end of both those sentiments, because timing is, after all, an important skillset to hone.
It also, conveniently, does not confirm or deny anything asked. Maybe crotches are still on the table--?!
Maybe Yanagi's reaction distracts them from a commitment on the issue (probably not). Lashes hood in that telltale way as she speaks to her own knowledge of the crunch. Tsumugi looks askance from their presentation of that glorious purse to peer at Yanagi for a few quiet moments.
A smile touches their lips, before they suddenly turn their attention towards the peacock:
"The past is just another pretend number too, Pernelle," they say, absently. "Did you know that?"
But maybe their words aren't just for the bird.
"What happened before isn't anything other than a canvas painted over again and again until you realize its meaning is whatever you want it to be."
Still. They make their plan known. The resulting enthusiasm all around is met with calm acceptance, less expectation and more simply -- going with the flow of the outsized reaction their declaration incites. A soft "hah" escapes their lips. And when the singing begins?
They just watch, unreadable as ever, as it spreads. Like a good mood. Or an infectious disease. From Pernelle, it passes to Saika, growing in power. Her glance back is met with the shallow cant of Tsumugi's head to the right, before the song grows in the telling, passing from Saika's lips to Yanagi's ear and expanded upon evermore. And then...
All eyes on Tsumugi, they look at all gathered for a few almost nonplussed seconds as if to say, 'what, me?'
A second passes.
Bright green eyes shut, and a shallow, noncommittal smile crosses their lips.
And then, a few smooth, long-gaited steps is all it takes to bring Tsumugi leaning down before Yanagi in her seat. One hand takes hers.
"It's all a show,"
They know she still has trouble on her feet, but it doesn't particularly stop them from looking to guide her onto her feet... and pull her into a slow rotation of a dance, slow, steady, drawing her in--
"so let's see who knows,"
-- before slowly spinning her out towards Saika to catch and support.
Do they sing?
Well. Sort of. The lyrics aren't near as whimsical. And they're delivered that sprechgesang way that almost suggests they might have a a wonderful singing voice if they bothered.
But...
"and who's just hollow~."
They certainly do join in, for their own terms of such a thing.
<Pose Tracker> Pernelle has posed.
Pernelle gasps at Tsumugi's wisdom. "I know this now!" he declares cheerfully. He does so love it when things are determined to merely be pretend. So many things in this world are merely mental constructs. Maybe even Pernelle himself! Well, he's not really worried about that one. In all the time they have known him, Pernelle appears entirely immune to existential crises.
Now a dropped ice cream cone, that's another matter. A tragic matter.
But even fallen ice cream can be painted over again with another ice cream. Stolen ice cream, even.
Yanagi's take has Pernelle's eyes alight as he ruffles up his feathers again. "A coveted object! Will there be tears? Will there be blood?!"
Do not sound so excited, Pernelle. Or do. Yanagi wants you to have fun. And so they dance together, though they are both mostly just wiggling. But oh, what a shiny wiggle it is, for just shifting his train in the light causes the colors of the world to reflect in new patterns.
And then, Pernelle sings again, and he does not sing alone! All join together in song! A song of hope! A song of sin! A song of COMMERCE!
As each round continues, Pernelle fluffs up more and more, mouth open in what can only be described as a wide mouthed smile. He is the template from which :D is wrought, ever brighter, bigger, boisterouser! That is a word now. He invented it in his heart, for it was necessary to describe it.
This silent face of unconstrained glee sets on Tsugumi, waiting, waiting waiting waiting...
The song does not break, and Pernelle, to punctuate it, lets out a peacock's cry of, "Eeeeeeeyaw!"
<Pose Tracker> Yanagi Nagisa has posed.
The past is just another pretend number too...
Yanagi's smile grows softer and more fond as Tsumugi bequeaths words of wisdom upon Pernelle--but not just Pernelle.
"You're so smart, Tsumugi!"
It's not like she didn't know it already, but sometimes it's good to have a reminder.
And so, when Tsumugi responds to the prompt of song by coming in for a dance, Yanagi laughs in delight, accepting their hand and rising up from her chair. Her legs wobble, but with their help, they hold of, and spin with them. Yanagi rests her hands on their arms and shoulders, smiling broadly as Tsumugi sings their own refrain.
Isn't it funny how each of their verses reflect their individuality?
No. It's not funny.
It's wonderful.
The four of them, working towards the same goal, are still all their own people with their own visions of what they desire and what they'll do to work towards it. That's why, even though Yanagi's desires are different from everyone else's, she still belongs.
That's why, even though she probably won't live to see their goal realized, they won't be sad when she's gone--and why she can live with them for as long as she can, unburdened and without being a burden.
There might just be tears and blood, Pernelle. But Yanagi does indeed want you to have fun, just as she wants to have fun herself, so it's all right. As his triumphant squawk resolves, so too does Yanagi's laughter as she lets herself be spun into Saika, on whom she drapes her arms in blissful surrender.