"Watch where you step, men." Skipper says, slightly yawning.
It was adding up to be a long night, with the four of them walking through the city to try and find proper shelter. They'd stuck to the shadows thus far and refused to make eye contact with people because they certainly didn't need to be found out or caught up in human affairs.
"I would if I could," Kowalski huffs, "It's no wonder humanity is a mess, I can barely see."
"I can see just fine." Private pipes up.
"And who knew humans went through life with so much pain!" Skipper says, half throwing his hands up in exasperation.
"I... I feel fine?" Private glances back at Rico who just shrugs. He seemed fine too. "Um, Skippah, perhaps we can get to a streetlamp for a check up? That was a pretty big explosion after all."
"And let the humans see us, Private? I don't think so."
"Well. I was thinking about that." Private says. "Wouldn't it be easier to find a place to stay if... we, um, asked someone?"
"Nonsense, Private-"
"Actually, Skipper, " Kowalski sighs, "I'm beginning to think the same thing. The park didn't have adequate shelter to keep us from being spotted and we've been wandering this street for at least an hour. And two out of four of us appear to be in ill health."
He pauses.
"Though we're still doing surprisingly well considering the circumstances. An explosion like that should have caused serious injury. Or worse." They'd seen the state of the HQ after all. "A brief stop to check on the condition of the team could prove- GAH!"
The other three quickly turn to look to Kowalski as he fell back, holding his foot.
"Oh, I curse these humans and their apparent inability to properly use a trash receptacle!" He snaps.
"Oh no, what happened?" Private asks, concerned, but none of them step closer as whatever Kowalski had stepped on was likely still around. Kowalski gingerly feels around the ground for a second before finding the glass bottle and it's shards, and he scoots away in the opposite direction before getting up again.
"Oh what do you think?" He grumbles, hopping on one foot.
Skipper huffs a little, running his hand through his hair, exasperated at their course of events.
"Alright, men... We'll just have to be a less picky about where we settle down for the night. We've already been rained on, we're already soaked and cold. Humans are probably going to see us anyhow..." He doesn't seem too happy about that. "Rico, carry Kowalski. We're heading back to the park."
"Didn't we just come from the park, Skippah?" Private asks, while Rico throws Kowalski over his shoulder.
"Yes, Private, but since we're stuck in this mess anyway," Skipper says, gesturing, "I want to stick as close to the HQ as possible. If there's a chance to salvage what we've got left, I'm going to take it." He didn't want to abandon home any more than they did.
"Oh!" Private grins as they head back, and he claps a little. "Yay~"
"Don't get your hopes up."
It wasn't too long before they found themselves back at central park, planted beneath a tree on the wet ground. There were no streetlights in this part of the park, but Skipper knew Rico should still have plenty of supplies on him.
"Alright Rico, flashlight."
"Er..."
Skipper just waves his hand impatiently, "I'm sure it's fine."
"Affirmative." Kowalski says, propping his foot up, "The Molecular Organizer doesn't effect inorganic and non sentient matter, remember?"
"Kowalski, how do you know if something's not, um, sentient?"
"Oh we are NOT getting into that conversation again." Skipper huffs, and holds out his hand again. "Rico."
Rico just shrugs. "Okay." And Skipper quickly found a flashlight in his hand which- to his discontent- he found more unappealing to the touch than usual. Something he'd been noticing about a LOT of things he's touched today.
He'd take feather covered flippers over bare hands any day.
"Uhg. Alright..." He hesitates for a second. Their eyes had long adjusted to the light polluted city's night, but it's almost seemed that as long as it was night time they could tell themselves that they weren't really seeing what they were seeing. He clicks the light on and breathes out.
"Sweet mother MacArthur..."
The other three looked at him as he pointed the light in their direction, and he couldn't even wrap his mind around what he was seeing. It was absolutely unmistakable, three humanized team members sat in front of him and somehow he could even tell immediately who was who.
Kowalski on the far left, tall and undeniably skinny- Skipper quickly decided that he wasn't going to use invention work as an excuse to skip training anymore- Rico on the far right, nearly as tall as Kowalski and more heavily built, though the long scar would have given it away if he hadn't been, and Private who was far shorter than the other two with wide eyes and whi-
"Kowalski! What's this?" Skipper demands, pointing to Private, and Kowalski looks over.
"Uh... That's... Private?"
"His hair Kowalski. It's white."
"It- it is?" Private asks, concerned. The other three's hair was black. Not white.
Kowalski pauses to scratch his chin, pausing briefly at the unwelcome sensation of finding there was hair there too, before pointing.
"So it is... I believe it's a minor mutation. Likely a selective thing, as penguins we are black and white after all. And whatever's happened to us, it was clearly in an unstable environment with little to no control over mutations like this."
"What do you mean mutationssss?" Skipper demands, putting emphasis on the 's'. "As in more than one?"
"Well. Yes, it's quite likely. Clearly the Molecular Organizer was the cause of the explosion, other wise we wouldn't be in this situation. And if we all changed because it exploded then frankly we're lucky that ones of us doesn't still have webbed feet."
...
They all pause briefly to look at their feet before continuing.
"I want a check up on each one of you." Skipper demands. "Unpredictable mutations are bad enough, I want to make sure we're all in top working order."
"Uhg, actually Skipper I think I've already found mine." Kowalski says, waving his hand in front of his face. "I can't see two feet in front of me. Everything's a blur."
"What are you talking about? You could see before." Skipper says.
"Well, yes but I also find that my mind appears to be working on overdrive. It's quite an experience. I think during the rearrangement of molecules the brain was deemed more necessary an organ than the rest and thus more focus and resources were put into the formation of that- taking away from the eyes apparently."
"...What?"
Kowalski sighs a little. "My subconscious worked on my brain more than my eyes so now my sight is bad."
"Okay well why can the rest of us see fine?" Skipper asks, confused. Kowalski just nods as if he were already contemplating the same thing.
"I think... it really is a subconscious thing. We were rearranged in a way we WANTED to be, so to speak."
"Well that makes even less than the first thing you said! Why would you want to be half blind and why would Private want white hair?"
"Well, no, that's not what I mean." Kowalski says matter of factly. "I mean, I obviously value my intelligence over something as trivial aseyesight-"
"I bet you didn't think it was so trivial when you stepped on that glass." Skipper huffs.
"-AND," Kowalski continues firmly, "Private clearly has a deep seeded need to be noticed."
"What, I do not!"
"Well why didn't you take it from your HAIR not your eyes, it looks ridiculous!"
"Well I didn't do any of this on purpose!" Kowalski huffs. "I don't control it!"
"Hm..." Skipper rubs his chin a little before removing his hand in disgust. More things that were unpleasant to the touch. He sighs. "Alright. I think I'm following... What about you, Rico?"
"Hm, yes," Kowalski says, "what is it that you could have wanted the most to change about yourself, more than anything else?"
The other three turn to Rico, who's eyes widen slightly in surprise at suddenly being the center of attention.
Uh...
He ponders on it for a second, the others looking intently when they see the realization dawn on him and he opens his mouth.
"This."
The other's blink a little, confused.
"This! This, I wanted this!" He says, growing excited and pointing to his mouth, and the other three gasp.
Out of everything to take place tonight, this felt the most unnatural.
"Rico!" Private finally exclaims, though he still couldn't find more words than that.
"Ha! HAHA! No more being bound by the limits of what I'm physically capable of, for the love of Alfred Nobel I can talk!"
"Rico, what's all this? You know I like my crew one dimensional, I'm supposed to know everything." Skipper demands. Rico just reaches over and roughly grabs Skipper's face, staring him down.
"I am going to say this because now I can. I don't care."
"Ow! Geeze, watch what you're doing." Skipper says, shoving Rico's hands away while he continues on his excited ramble.
"Skippah, are you okay?" Private asks. That was at least twice now that Skipper had shown some sign of pain.
"I'm fine." Skipper huffs, rubbing his cheek.
"Well," Private reaches over and grabs the flashlight before Skipper could object, "now it's your turn. You get a check up too, Skippah." He says matter of factly before shining the light on him.
Private, Kowalski, and Rico stare, and even Rico's excited babbling drifts into silence. Private puts his hand up to his face.
"Oh my..."