2026-09-28: A Cat's Malediction
- Log: 2026-09-28 A Cat's Malediction
- Cast: Morgana (NPCed by Ren Amamiya), Pernelle
- Where: Shimokitazawa - Street Scene
- OOC Date: September 27, 2026
- IC Date: January 16, 2013
- Summary: After talking to Ichika, Morgana has mixed feelings and decides to poke his nose into Leblanc. Before he gets that far, though, he runs into a certain boisterous peacock in Shimokitazawa. True confidence vs. blustered confidence, bird vs. not-a-cat--which will win?
(|======================= Shimokitazawa - Street Scene =======================|)
-================================================ Tokyo/Shimokitazawa Ward ====-
Shimokitazawa is a neighborhood of densely-packed buildings near the
Shimo-Kitazawa Station, where the Odakyu Electric and Keio Inokashira lines
intersect. The winding alleyways and smaller spaces for shops and venues have
kept away the big-money chains, leaving space for dozens of small and
independent fashion shops to sprout up, cozily tucked and intermingled with
bars, cafes, live music venues and theaters.
The narrow streets of Shimokitazawa can be confining, especially when there is a
crowd; the shops have colorful signs, and offer a panoply of experiences, each
of them striving to radiate a vision of their own kind of cool. A crisp and
efficient tile-and-straight-edges men's clothier sits across from a
heavily-tagged used clothing shop. The streets stay lively at night, with music
belting out to the lonely hearts of the big city from dozens of hole-in-the-wall
jazz bars and rock venues. In summer, dance festivals trail throughout the
narrow streets, bringing back a traditional vibe... until the next day, of
course.
Local landmarks include the station itself; the Matsuda Theater, a 400-seat
venue that has helped drive the boom in smaller-scale theater throughout the
neighborhood; and the not-too distant Gotoku-ji temple, famous for its vast
collection of beckoning maneki-nekos, each of them enshrined in a place of honor
on the temple grounds.
<Pose Tracker> Morgana has posed.
After a chance meeting with Ichika in Shibuya and the conversation that ensued, Morgana is... pensive. He knows he needs to talk to Lady Ann next and accept whatever happens next, come what may, but he wasn't kidding when he said he needs to work up the nerve first. He plans on telling her how he feels too, after all. Maybe she already knows by now, but he wants to at least have the chance to tell her with his own mouth.
Normally, at a time like this, he'd talk to Ren. That is... not possible right now. Morgana might have worked most things out with Ichika, but there's a lot more turmoil in his heart, and while he might have lashed out that day at Meiji Shrine, it was from a place of things he really feels. He still needs to work through that too.
It did make him miss Leblanc, though. (Miss Ren.) No doubt Ren's busy with their intensely packed schedule, so maybe he could at least stop by and show his face. Make sure Sojiro doesn't ask too many awkward questions. It's... a courtesy. The least he could do for his former... whatever they were.
So, having worked up a sufficient excuse in his own head, Morgana slipped onto a train to Yongen-jaya. However, looking like a cat means needing to hide to avoid being seen by regular people. Be stealthy and sneaky. Sometimes that means you can't get off at the right stop on time. He ends up at the next stop over in Shimokitazawa instead as a result. Oh well, at least it's not too far as the cat walks, and it might be cold, but it's also sunny and he's got a fur coat. He'll be fine.
Thus it comes to pass that a certain black "cat" with white tips, yellow collar, and intensely blue eyes walks through the streets of Shimokitazawa. He takes some time to admire the Gotoku-ji's collection of maneko-neko along the way; Morgana might not be a cat, but he still likes cats! It helps raise his spirits, too--something he'll need if Ren's there after all and he needs to beat a hasty retreat. He really doesn't want to see them face-to-face after how their last encounter in Odaiba went.
It also means some passing pedestrians look and giggle about how cute it is that a cat is admiring cats. Morgana has to force himself to ignore that kind of chatter...
<Pose Tracker> Pernelle has posed.
A 'regular cat' is a creature that skulks and sneaks, but a 'regular peacock' is a creature that preens and parades. Pernelle is not a regular peacock. Pernelle is an extraordinary peacock: so he preens and parades prodigiously.
"Good afternoon, kittens of the shrine! Good afternoon, at least I believe it's after nine? Well! Good afternoon, monument to cat! Good afternoon, now where did I put that~?"
He sings in a resonating, deep voice as if life were a musical, strutting audaciously with big steps of his clawed feet and swishes of his tail that come dangerously close to -- but never swatting -- any of the shrine's rows and rows of maneki-neko.
Pernelle brushes up against Morgana, sticking his long and elegant neck among the cats. "Pardon me, koneko-chan!" He rummages and he wiggles but a moment before lifting his head back up, exceptionally shiny bell in his beak.
And then he blinks at Morgana once, twice, thrice.
"Wagahai," he blurts in shock, dropping the bell and emphasis on the 'hi' in startled greeting. "You are the genuine living article, with a pulse and all!"
<Pose Tracker> Morgana has posed.
Tokyo is a weird place. All these cats and peacocks and god knows what else walking about.
Morgana doesn't pay Pernelle any mind at first. Sure, he's singing, and sure, he's a peacock, but Morgana's looking at the rows of cat statues, which limits his field of view, meaning that he can't see that it is the peacock that is singing.
This changes when he turns and excuses himself to get by, long neck and all. Morgana turns and looks at him in time for the two of them to stare at each other for a long moment.
Then Morgana LEAPS up, back and tail frizzing. "A TALKING BIRD?!" he yowls as he lands. Then he remembers the corrections Kazusa and Roger gave on him being a pig, and that reminds him of how he'd react to being called a talking cat, and he gives Pernelle a wary look. "W-wait. Are you a bird?"
A beat.
"Because I'm not a cat!!"
There we go.
<Pose Tracker> Pernelle has posed.
Despite Pernelle's initial surprise, Morgana leaping back in his own shock magnifies the peacock's startled reaction. His train launches into full, fanned out display, feathers ruffled.
"A SINGING BIRD!" he fires back in what is supposed to be a playful conversational reply with a voice instead bellowing in the heat of the moment.
He clears his throat, smoothing out his feathers and his own train down to a still lovely and sweeping extension of his glorious romp. (Is... it...?) (It is!!)
"Just so!" Pernelle confirms of his birdliness with a puff of pride. "Pavo cristatus, to be exact, regularly referred to as the Indian Peafowl, isosemantic with the invention of beauty itself."
Pernelle pauses, opening one eye, and then the other.
"And you are... not a cat?" He lowers his neck, cocking his head from one side to the next as he observes Morgana.
"... Then this... cat shape of yours... Some manner of malediction?" Pernelle's beak falls open as he looks to the rows and rows upon cats. He leans in toward Morgana, whispering. "... Is this their doing? Have you arrived seeking absolution?"
<Pose Tracker> Morgana has posed.
Two puffed-up, emotionally heightened animals!! Imagine what this tableau must look like to any normies passing by...
Morgana opens his mouth, but somehow cannot bring himself to reply when Pernelle claps back with how he is a singing bird. He doesn't have a hostile vibe to his voice, not unlike Roger to be honest, but it's still... how do you even react to that??
And in point of fact, how do you react to the part where he proudly confirms he is a bird, and even pontificates about what kind? No one has ever tried to specify what kind of cat Morgana might be. He's just... a cat. Sometimes a monster cat.
(In fairness, though, you have to REALLY be into cats to care about breeds.)
"Uh... great," he eventually settles on. At least this means he didn't accidentally insult yet another person. (Because Pernelle is a person, right? He's clearly a person.) "No," he adds, tensing up a little when Pernelle eyeballs him--
Only to immediately guess at the heart of the matter, at least as far as Morgana believes it to be. This has literally never happened before. "Y--yeah, actually!" he utters, blue eyes going wide.
Then Pernelle asks if the maneki-neko did this.
"Er... no," he replies. If he were in his Metaverse form, his mouth would be a squiggly line right now. "I'm, uh... I'm originally human, but I was cursed and robbed of my human form and my memories."
Is he actually going to believe that? Some people have believed Morgana when he says that, but this feels... weird, coming from... literally a bird.
"Hey, do you know someone named Jerri?" he adds, following that train of thought. "She's, uh, also a bird. A pink parrot, or maybe a cockatoo, I think."
<Pose Tracker> Pernelle has posed.
They should be so blessed to witness something so awe inspiring and exceptional! Or so Pernelle would think as the constant background noise of his thoughts in public. Such that it is that no part of Pernelle will ever consider doing anything less than being maximum Pernelle at all times. But this is only an issue for anyone who cares about not making a scene.
(So, most people? Not Pernelle's problem!)
"Great," Pernelle repeats with a knowing nod. "Glorious, even." He just loves the sound of his own voice, doesn't he...!
But just as Pernelle would have suspected with the limited information he has been provided: a curse is in place! He gasps again, beak wide as can be to have Morgana confirm this ghastly turn of events.
It seems the peacock has no reason to assume other than what he's been told. He, after all, is not in this ghastly business of curses! He is all fortunes!
"And your memories?" he says, voice going hoarse from the pitch of his shock. "What dreadful fortune! If it is any consolation, you should know you make a fetching example of felis catus in the meantime. It takes a special mettle to strut about in a style not one's own, but I dare say you are pulling off the look deftly!"
As Morgana mentions Jerri, Pernelle squints, lowering his head again. "Jerri? Jerri, Jerri, Jerri... No, no, I fear it does not ring any bells. But she sounds lovely, by your description. Never enough pink in the world, by my estimation."
<Pose Tracker> Morgana has posed.
If Morgana understood that about Pernelle--and he almost certainly will by the end of this conversation--in a way, he'd have to respect that about him. Always being maximum you at all times and never considering anything less? There's a lot to admire about that. That's been weighing on his mind a lot lately too.
At the very least, Pernelle's confidence is the genuine article, rather than Morgana's more-often-than-not bluster.
"I... thanks," Morgana replies without enthusiasm to the agonizingly sincere compliment about how well he's pulling off the cat look. It's not what he wants to hear, but it's hard to get mad about, either. There's something about Pernelle that makes it clear that, for as enormous as his reactions are, he's not making fun, either. He shares that simple sincerity with Roger, too.
"Mm," he murmurs. He actually can't disagree with Pernelle on the matter of pink; the image of Panther with her pink gloves flits through his mind. This does not raise his spirits, though. "Never mind, then. It's not like you'd know her just because you're both birds." Both talking birds, maybe, but otherwise... "What about a guy named Roger? He, uh, looks like a pig, but he's not a pig. He... says he's a Shadow?"
The very idea makes Morgana deeply uncomfortable for reasons he wish he could claim he doesn't know.
"I'm Morgana, by the way," he adds, because self-introductions are well overdue by this point, even if Pernelle doesn't seem to mind. "What's your name? And where are you from, anyway? It's... kinda rare, running into a, uh... talking... singing bird. Jerri only pulled off the talking part, as far as I know."
<Pose Tracker> Pernelle has posed.
Pernelle would probably be shocked to learn anyone would put so much effort into faking anything. Excruciating! Exhausting! And not a single compliment received would be nearly as mentally scrumptious! No, no. All Pernelle all the time.
"I am only speaking the truth!"
For better or worse, Morgana gets the right impression. Pernelle means everything he says, even -- especially -- when he's saying a lot of it. And, unfortunately, it means Pernelle does think his compliments are all compliments.
"Roger!" Pernelle exclaims, perking right up with sparkles in his eyes. "The bravest boar! Ah, such a spirited lad, that one. I will always remember his sacrifice."
That Roger is still alive, evidently, does not mean the sacrifice was not made.
"... Oh, does he not think himself a member of Sus, even as a Shadow? Hm. That is on me. I should have thought to ask!" Pernelle preens at his feathers for a moment. "I cannot fathom why anyone should prefer to parade about as human, but one must chase their bliss."
Morgana, unfortunately, asks for Pernelle's name. Pernelle ruffles his feathers in such a manner that they catch the light, shimmering in iridescence. "Dearest Morgana, you speak with the peacock most precious, most perfect, and most importantly, the most Pernelle!" Pause. "For that! Is my name!"
He turns to gesture with an extension of his wing down the street. "I come to you from the behoveful boutique known as Peacock Silk! Were you an actual cat, I would suggest you visit to commission a nice collar for yourself. As it is... hm. A bowtie? Or a scarf, perchance? Something to perk your spirits up. They do seem rather low, though that is hardly a surprise given your situation."
<Pose Tracker> Morgana has posed.
"Yeah, I can tell," Morgana replies, still without enthusiasm.
He does know Roger, though, and speaks of a sacrifice. Morgana straightens out of his funk. "Sacrifice? What d'you mean?" He can't mean that Roger died--Morgana literally only met him the other day!
It doesn't get any less confusing with what he says next. "Member of... what?? What's Sus?" he utters, starting to feel lost. If Pernelle is far too sincere to be putting Morgana on, then there's nothing to feel but lost.
Then he talks about parading around as a human. Morgana stares. "What???"
(Morgana has only met Roger in his cognitive form, you see.)
He must admit, though: Pernelle's feathers are beautiful. They shimmer in the cold winter light like a million tiny brilliant jewels. Morgana feels positively plain next to him, though once again in fairness, just about everyone is plain next to Pernelle. His ears swivel forward when he mentions where he's from, though.
"Peacock Silk?" he repeats. "I've heard of them." He sort of half-way smiles at Pernelle's suggestions, at least. "Yeah, I'm going through some stuff right now," he admits. He doesn't need to go into detail. Pernelle knows as much as he needs to. "And I've got a collar on right now, you know. Though it's just to make sure nobody gives me any trouble." Sometimes he gets trouble all the same--and besides, the collar just... appears on him. He didn't choose to put it on, it was there from the start. It's better on his ego to pretend there's a reason for it, though.
"Can we go by? I'm curious," he adds, because he really is curious. He's heard they do special services for Persona Users... Now that he's not with The Phantoms, maybe he can do something with that.
Once the two are in motion, Morgana also asks, "So Pernelle, how is it that you can talk and sing if you're just a bird?"
Pernelle is of course not just a bird, but that would be true whether he could talk or sing or not. Morgana will no doubt be edified on this matter imminently.
<Pose Tracker> Pernelle has posed.
By Pernelle's entirely self focused observation, Morgana is a subdued creature! Quite stoic. Level, emotionally. That's the only explanation for such tepid reactions. But some are simply like that! (Will he learn better? If he does, he'll promptly forget he thought anything different.)
It is with entirely inappropriate gravity that Pernelle bows his head. "Roger, so young, so brave, so foolishly brave. Against waves of enemies, he stood, buying us the time we would need to rally our forces to save those who could still yet be saved...!" Pernelle lifts his head, looking to the sky, and a single tear runs down his beak at the beautiful memory.
It falls, and then Pernelle snaps his attention right back to Morgana, all cheer and dancing foot to foot. "It is fortunate he is as hardy as he is foolishly brave!"
Pernelle clears his throat. "Sus, containing our porcine friends. As I am Pavo and you are cursed to Felis." He stares back at Morgana's staring. "What what?? What! Whaaaaaaaat?!" That last one was just for fun, because he was enjoying making the sound.
This answers no questions! But Pernelle, to be fair, doesn't know where the questions and confusion lie.
"Marvelous!" he chirps, happy to know Morgana has at least heard of the glorious Peacock Silk. If Morgana has no desire to go into it, Pernelle sees no need to pry. "I do know, yes, but one can always have another! An aesthetic treat to change things up a bit! Yellow is a brilliant contrast for you, but there's always room for a little bedazzling."
Pernelle's world is blissfully simple compared to needing to fret over spontaneous collars.
But Morgana asks to go by, and Pernelle nearly begins to sparkle -- or perhaps literally does in the light -- as he fluffs his feathers in delight. "Can we? Why, Morgana, I should delight in showing you our establishment! And perhaps it may do your soul a spot of good to be seen as proper customer by a shop that can respect you. I see no reason my comrades would not treat you as thus."
After all, it's rarely money that's of most interest to Peacock Silk. Why couldn't Morgana pay, in his own way, for something for himself?
He struts happily along, humming with a bounce in his step as Morgana asks what must be asked.
"It is my understanding that all birds can talk and sing," Pernelle replies. "Fear not, however, that I do understand the question beyond your question. How is it that you, a human, understand one such as myself?"
Pernelle's steps remain chipper.
"And that, my new friend...! I! Do not! Know!"
He goes back to humming delightedly as if he had actually answered in any satisfying manner.
<Pose Tracker> Morgana has posed.
Subdued, stoic, and emotionally level. Sure, that's Morgana, all right. It's definitely not because he just had a painful if clarifying emotional talk with a friend and is now being harangued by a peacock. (He'd say an over-the-top peacock, but that's redundant.)
"Uh..." For a moment, Morgana is uncertain--worried. He only met Roger a day or two ago, but that's still long enough for the worst to happen. That worry crescendos as Pernelle weeps--! And then cheerfully expresses his gratitude that Roger is also hardy. Morgana's head sinks under the weight of his sweatdrop. "Are you serious? Ugh, of course you are."
Sus, like Pavo and Felis. "But he's not a pig at all??" Morgana utters, though he's forced to admit, "Though I guess he does at least look like a pig..."
Then Pernelle echoes his confusion back at him as if faced by a mirror, and with just as much force.
Morgana decides: this bird may be sincere, but he's also utterly exhausting.
"True," he admits of changing it up. "Maybe you're right. Maybe changing up my look with a bowtie or a scarf or something would be good for me." He still can't muster up any enthusiasm, but here it's because of the aforementioned exhausting part. What starts to spark that is Pernelle claiming that the employees of Peacock Silk would accept him as human as easily as he did, and treat him as a respectable customer.
That spark is immediately crushed by Pernelle Pernelling his question. Morgana's head sags again. At least he manages to keep pace with him. "Forget I asked," he says wearily.
Still, thanks to what he said about his coworkers, he has an idea of why. Actually focusing on Pernelle rather than his theatrics lets him sense that Resonance around the strange bird, too, which solidifies it. He's got a Persona... like him and Roger. That means that his coworkers must be too. It's not always a guarantee that those who do business with Persona Users will be, given Sumaru, but here in Tokyo, everything's not quite so susceptible to rumors.
"So... do you guys... get much business from people like me?" he wonders as they go. "People who don't look human anymore, that is?" Maybe he should be a bit more cautious about this... Even if he's not with The Phantoms anymore, he's still maintaining a secret identity. How can he convince them to keep a secret? Maybe it's already too late to put that genie back in its bottle, though.
<Pose Tracker> Pernelle has posed.
Such a lucky blessing for Morgana to be harangued by a peacock!
It might be a saner world had Pernelle put that display on just to mess with Morgana, and not because Pernelle had his own theatrical journey to go on for which his ostentatious soul could not escape. But no, it is this world, with this Pernelle and his Pernelley soul, and it will happen again.
"As serious as sustenance! But I only meet him in the spaces where he is a good degree pig shaped," Pernelle explains. "Still a bit human-like, come to think of it. Hm." Strange, that! "But also akin to a cute little drawing trying to trick someone into buying something."
Which is very silly when stealing is an option. This is why Peacock Silk is so genius: you cannot steal what has not yet been created.
"I am very good at forgetting such questions!" Pernelle admits without an ounce of shame. "But I am getting the impression that it is too important a question to you to do so as immediately as asked. Know this: the talking has much more to do with what I am than what you are, if that is your worry. You are not less a human, nor further along in your curse, because you hear birds. All the other humans among the waking world hear me too."
Because of course that must be so. For why would anyone worry about what a Pernelle is, or where a Pernelle has originated from?
Certainly not Pernelle.
But what of people like Morgana? Pernelle tilts his head as they go, letting his thoughts tumble in his skull. "No... no, I should say not. Not many cursed to be cats that I've met. Or any other creature. This Jerri of yours certainly never stopped by, I would remember that." Is Jerri also cursed, or an actual parrot? That's neither here nor there in the question of nonhuman visitors.
"However, the uniqueness of your situation will not deny you sincerity of our services."
That's not the problem here...!
<Pose Tracker> Morgana has posed.
Pernelle and Morgana make quite the pair, don't they? Pernelle is so aggressively, wholeheartedly himself that Morgana stops being anyone at all, almost. When faced with such blinding confidence, it really puts his own bluster in stark contrast.
"Roger doesn't seem like a tricky kind of guy, at least," Morgana opines. He realizes that's not quite what Pernelle's saying, but he honestly feels bad for Roger to be compared to duplicitous advertising like that. The two of them probably get along though, huh... They're both so honest that it's giving Morgana a headache. And Roger isn't even here with them right now!!
"Hmm." It is nice of Pernelle to go out of his way to reassure him, though. It's not the problem, no, but it's an attempt at kindness all the same. Same goes with assuring him he'll get fine service whether he looks like a cat or a human. He's starting to maybe appreciate it, just a little.
"You know, you're not a bad guy, Pernelle," Morgana says. He may regret this imminently.
And/or in the long run.
<Pose Tracker> Pernelle has posed.
There are those who are afraid to shine too brightly, lest they cast too much of a shadow upon others. Pernelle would cry, 'Death first!' and begin a crusade of problem causing before becoming one of them.
"Not at all," Pernelle agrees heartily. "Roger would always respect the rules of any game! It is a sense of honor that builds the cornerstone of good sportsmanship, which I wager is core to his character."
Pernelle remains blind and deaf to Morgana's growing exhaustion, especially because he receives a compliment for all his Pernelle nature.
Immediately, he puffs his chest with pride. "I do know! Not bad, and in fact, the best!" he declares. "But I do so love to hear it. Thank you, Morgana."
Morgana did not say that, but Pernelle has decided it was inferred and shall run with it.
Forever.
"One with such good taste as you is going to love our establishment, I can feel it. And if there is still daylight to burn, perhaps we shall procure ourselves some palatable snacks in the aftermath...!"
Pernelle does not have to know Morgana is a Phantom Thief to suggest that they should steal lunch later.
<Pose Tracker> Morgana has posed.
For Morgana, at least, the problem is less being afraid to shine brightly and more being afraid that he'll never shine brightly enough. He's not going to say that, though--and that's part of the problem.
When Pernelle agrees that Roger would always have good sportsmanship, that does seem to confirm it in Morgana's head--not that there was really any doubt, considering how highly he spoke of him when Morgana asked about him in the first place. Now he's sure, though.
He heaves a sigh at Pernelle running away with the faint praise. He doesn't bother to point out he didn't say that much either. Morgana is smart enough to know this is a battle he won't win.
Ever.
It'd be dinner at this point--it's already past when school lets out--but lunch or dinner or breakfast at night, Morgana's certainly used to stealing by now, especially stealing food. So, even though Pernelle doesn't make that part clear right now: "Sure, why not? I am starting to get hungry."
It does mean he probably won't stop by Leblanc later after all, but maybe it's better that way.