Morgan Valentine
The Moon
The Velvet Room
Morgan gave a tired smile as she listened to the teacher explain their situation to her over-eager roommate, mostly happy that they were heading off to bed now. All of this was overwhelming, and tiring too. She was aware that she was still a little in shock, and needed time to rest — and then time after to process… well, everything, really.
“Yeah, I heard,” she chuckled in response as Sofiya eagerly repeated Kat’s words to her, “You’re right… it’s quite something.”
She followed everyone else as they walked further into the room, passing by the piano — where a mysterious looking lady was seated — and coming to a stop in front of the desk, where a peculiar looking man with a very long nose was waiting for them. Sofiya eagerly greeted him, but was ignored.
The man spoke in a vaguely archaic fashion, introducing himself as Igor. A few words in particular struck her as odd — he’d called their return to the ‘real world’ a burden. Why a burden? Although now that she stopped and thought about it… there was very little she really liked about her ‘real life’, and quite a lot she didn’t like at all, so maybe the man’s words weren’t a hint at something more sinister. If she could stay in this new world forever, transforming from whatever the hell she is now to a superhero who helped people like Sofiya clearly thought they’d be… it would be nice.
Yeah, it would be really nice.
But things are never that simple, are they? She certainly couldn’t bring herself to think so. After all, that’d be to easy. As Igor extended an invitation to them, Morgan felt a strange weight in the pocket of her pyjama pants — her hand closed around a key-shaped object that she didn’t take out to examine. That could wait till later.
“All you who wield Persona,” Igor continued, concluding his speech, “Beware of the potential you now hold: you wouldn’t want to make things worse, would you? I wish you all luck and discipline. It will be a wicked road ahead for you all.”
No, Morgan thought to herself,
No, I wouldn’t...
But things are never that easy, are they. A wicked road ahead — that didn’t bode well for the shadow of a superhero fantasy that’d been tangled tantalisingly in front of her. Luck, she never had, discipline… it was tiring, remaining disciplined. Perhaps all that potential Igor claimed she had would only go towards yet another disappointment. Looking down at the floor, she tried to force those thoughts away. It wasn’t good to think about those kinds of things when you were tired and overwhelmed — the result is never positive.
Making a note of Kat’s instruction to meet in the library after school, Morgan exited the room at a brisk pace, eager to leave all of this behind for a moment. Trotting off after Sofiya, she entered their room a few minutes after her roommate and collapsed onto the bed, wrapping herself tightly under the covers with a muffled ‘good night’.
As she drifted off to sleep, the voice of Jekyll echoed in her head:
Good night, Morgan.
///
Dormitory Room
Morgan was woken by a shift in the mattress, and opened her eyes to an unusual sight — Sofiya, with a bunch of skirts wrapped around her head like some sort of makeshift turban, eyes gleaming excitedly. “Morrey! Morning! What do you think? They’ll never see me coming!”
It took her a moment to fully leave that sweet world of nothing that she’d been in mere moments before. Thankfully, she’d been gifted with a dreamless sleep, which in her opinion was the sweetest dream of all — so despite the rude awakening, she was feeling surprisingly well rested, even more so than normal. Rubbing her eyes, she reached forward with her other hand and gently plucked the main skirt off of Sofiya’s face.
“Is that your superhero costume?” She laughed, voice still a little hoarse, “Maybe you should save it for later — us heroes have to hide our identities, remember?”
After forcing herself out of bed, she told Sofiya to go ahead to class without her, letting out a sigh of relief when the girl left the room, clearly excited about the prospect of facing the day ahead. When she was sure she was alone, she reached into her pockets, and felt her fingers close around a still-unfamiliar weight. Looking down at the violet-tinted key in her palm, she sat down on her bed as the reality sank in again. All of that really
did happen.
The shadow, the ‘personas’… everything. She tried calling out to Jekyll in her head, but received no response. Maybe the two of them were still asleep? Somehow, the thought of those two figures curled up underneath blankets made her smile.
But those warm feelings faded away quickly, replaced by more... serious thoughts. She’d signed some spiritual contract to ‘write her own destiny’, she’d made a promise to another part of herself — one so full of hurt and anger that it deemed fit to kill her, and take her place. Where did that leave her? What does all that really mean? She’ll have to change things, that’s for sure, but what things, and how? There were obvious answers, but they scared her, and she deliberately skirted around them, pushing them back down into the back of her mind when the popped up at the surface.
She hadn’t forgotten that music either. That tune echoed in her head, coming back stronger every time her eyes fell back onto the key in her palm. It was tantalisingly familiar, warm — maybe, if she hummed it, she’d experience that sensation again, the warmth of her sister’s embrace. But when she did, it seemed to lose its magic, and she decided not to do that again. Better to try and retain what little magic remained.
After a while, she put the key back into her pocket, slipped on her gloves, and exited the dormitory room. She was so preoccupied that her usual makeup routine slipped her mind entirely, leaving the discoloured patches on her face distinctly visible — but she’d taken long enough that most of the other girls had already finished their own morning routine, and there was nobody around to comment on it as she brushed her teeth in the communal bathroom.
///
6th Class: Shop
Although it hadn’t gotten worse than a few stray, not even ill-natured comments, Morgan found herself acutely aware of the mistake she’d made, and had spent the majority of her day beating herself up over it. Thankfully, at the very least, lunchtime was near. She’d be able to sneak back to her room and apply that makeup she’d forgotten — and maybe, then, those disgusting shapes on her face would stop burning whenever someone so much as glanced in her direction.
She sat with her head on the desk, arms crossed together in front of her face, blocking out most of it. A few teachers had made comments, but she had a good enough reputation that she was able to brush it off by claiming she’d slept very, very poorly — which technically wasn’t
untrue. She remained in this position during the beginning of the Shop class as well, the teacher’s voice passing into her ears and disappearing into the void, unable to find any traction on her mind.
You’re a fake, inadequate. You’ll never be good enough and you know. That figure’s voice, her own voice, refused to leave her alone. And you know what, it had a point, one that she’d been whispering to herself for years now. If she couldn’t even do something as simple as look someone in the eye without half an hour’s worth of art drawn on her own face, couldn’t even remember to do that most basic little thing…
what the hell is wrong with me?
"Are you okay, Morgan?" A voice cut through the thoughts bouncing back and forth in her head. She looked up to see a face she remembered — Raven Desposito. She’d met him yesterday, when he was looking a little… distressed, and tried her best to comfort him a little, although some part of her suspected she’d only been intruding. But that aside, asking people if they were okay was
her job. She needed to be the one caring for others, not being cared for.
I’m getting sloppy.
You’re a fake. You’ll… she forced the voice away and looked up, giving Raven a smile. She felt the boy’s eyes glance over those cursed marks, and the burning returned, but she did her best to ignore it.
"You...heard the teacher, right?” Raven asked, “Wanna start planning now?"
“I… sorry, yeah, I'm fine,” she replied with what she hoped was an easy laugh, “I didn’t get much sleep yesterday, so I’ve been kind of out of it. I take it we’re working together on something?”
Normally, she would’ve thrown in a remark asking about how his day was going, but from what little she knew, he seemed like the kind of person who’d be more comfortable focusing on the task at hand instead of making small talk. He’d mentioned something about plans — with that in mind, Morgan reached into her bag and retrieved her pencil-case and sketchbook, flipping the latter onto an empty page and handing Raven a pen from the former. “All right, let’s get started!” She smiled as enthusiastically as she could, “What are we planning, exactly?”