[After nearly two weeks and no weirdness on his part, Sigmund was starting to think he was going to escape for... however long this was going to last. After all, two weeks seemed to be a long time in Luceti terms. Unfortunately for him, it was not to be.
He just stepped out for a moment -- just to get things for breakfast while Capell and Katie were (maybe... hopefully... please) still asleep. It shouldn't have been a long trip, a half-hour at most. So, in true Liberator's luck fashion, he has to be right in the middle of the plaza when this weirdness catches up to him. Groceries, journal; everything that he was holding falls to the ground. This can happen when one suddenly finds themselves about four feet shorter and with flippers instead of hands.
Not being accustomed to suddenly turning into flightless feathered wildlife, it takes him a few moments of standing completely still to realize exactly what just happened to him. And then...]
EDWARD! [...!] No! Nevermind. Stay there. Don't touch me.
[And that's how there came to be an angry little penguin in the plaza that morning, alternately trying to kick and nudge scattered groceries back into a bag so that it can drag it home (nevermind that the bag weighs twice what it does) or futilely struggling to turn the damn journal off with a pen clutched in its beak. Mostly this is causing lots of scribbling and squawking and the odd shot of angry penguin.
So, so angry.]
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notsoaringblade, for angry penguin justice
He just stepped out for a moment -- just to get things for breakfast while Capell and Katie were (maybe... hopefully... please) still asleep. It shouldn't have been a long trip, a half-hour at most. So, in true Liberator's luck fashion, he has to be right in the middle of the plaza when this weirdness catches up to him. Groceries, journal; everything that he was holding falls to the ground. This can happen when one suddenly finds themselves about four feet shorter and with flippers instead of hands.
Not being accustomed to suddenly turning into flightless feathered wildlife, it takes him a few moments of standing completely still to realize exactly what just happened to him. And then...]
EDWARD! [...!] No! Nevermind. Stay there. Don't touch me.
[And that's how there came to be an angry little penguin in the plaza that morning, alternately trying to kick and nudge scattered groceries back into a bag so that it can drag it home (nevermind that the bag weighs twice what it does) or futilely struggling to turn the damn journal off with a pen clutched in its beak. Mostly this is causing lots of scribbling and squawking and the odd shot of angry penguin.
So, so angry.]
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Comments
Well, that's not something you see every day.
[The voice might be older, but it should still sound the same. The necklace she always wears is in plain sight too, if... slightly altered. It's now framed with a flat circle of pure gold traced with intricate designs.]
...Katara.
She immediately crouches down to be closer to eye-level.]
You know who I am?
Yes. It's [Humiliating?] Sigmund.
Mostly, she remembers the mallynapping.]
Sigmund?
[This is... okay, must not laugh, Katara. Must Not Laugh. And drawing on years of diplomatic experiences, she manages to do just that. It doesn't, however, negate the warmth in her tone.] I have to admit, this is not how I remember you.
[Yeah, guess who heard that call and ran off without hearing the rest? He'll be out looking for Sigmund now.]
On the off chance Ed's fail directional ability takes him to the plaza, you know what he'll find. Or maybe he'll find nothing and come back hours later to find a penguin in their living room, doing its damnedest to figure out how to make the journal work with flippers and a beak. You just never know when Edward sets out alone.]
Lord... Sigmund...?
[PLEASE, PLEASE LET HIM BE SAFE]
I told you to stay.
...my lord?
That looks tough.
Not a word, Caesar.
Sure you don't need a hand? Or maybe two?
You sure about that? I think that bag's bigger than you are.
So basically incoming boobs.]
Mild squawking and ineffectual flapping ensues.]
A real penguiiiiiin!
At which point he just lays in the snow, resigned to his humiliating fate.]
You sure? I wouldn't mind lending a hand if you need it.
Not necessary. [The protest is somewhat muffled and undermined by the fact that he is trying to carry a bunch of carrots back to the shopping bag, and they are about half as tall as he is.]
I'll let you know if I see Edward wandering around in the snow. [Since he gets lost terribly easy and if he freezes because you don't tell him where you are it's your fault.]