Running down the hallway in tears, Chopper left the dinner table. The way Ram commented on his chopstick dance was truly hurtful. Nothing Rem, Emilia, or Roswaal said got through to the reindeer as he tearfully yelled at them.
"You don't know how much it takes to prepare for that dance! I practiced so hard!!!"
He opened the door to what should've been his guest room, running inside only to find a large library. The tears dried instantly as Chopper squealed in shock.
"Eh!? Where's my stuff!?"
He ran straight over to the nearest bookshelf and grabbed a book without thinking, beginning to scroll through each page. He appeared to be reading it, but after a minute or two with his nose in the book, the pirate put the literature down with a sheepish smile.
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Except for the wet, labored snorts escaping his new snout. His golden eyes, still unmistakably his despite the grotesque transformation, darted wildly around the chamber, taking in the polished marble floors that now reflected a bristly, pink-fleshed monstrosity where a divine being had once sat.
His hooves scraped against the armrests of the throne, unable to grip them properly. As he sat there, not pleased, not happy and not content, Capella and her jokes, her whims and wishes, she was a curse on this entire church. As he managed himself to sit comfortably on the pile of silk pillows he'd demanded be arranged atop his throne, his stubby pig legs tucked beneath him with an almost regal precision.
The irony wasn't lost on him—his snout twitched as he inhaled the scent of his own indignity mixed with Capella's lingering perfume.
She'd done this hours ago, but the throne room still stank of her laughter. His tail, curled tight against his flank, betrayed nothing of the fury simmering beneath his bristled hide.
Slowly he sighed through his new snout, a wet, guttural sound that made his own ears twitch in irritation. She'd made him look exactly like what he was a greedy pig. What a bitch. His golden eyes, now beady and sunken into porcine flesh, flicked toward the gilded mirrors lining the throne room.
The reflection staring back was obscene: pink skin stretched over swollen jowls, a coiled tail flicking against the silk cushions. He could feel the heat of humiliation crawl beneath his bristles. As he breathed out, he was a king damn it, and he would still be one.
Understanding that it was a shared birthday, Chopper made sure to dress for the occasion. Despite having only briefly met one of the birthday children, the reindeer was confident he'd be fondly remembered, his eyes sparkling with joy as he entered the venue owned by Anastasia Hoshin. This would surely be a momentous occasion and as great opportunity to solidify his crew as friends to the cat children.
The anthropomorphic reindeer pirate wasn't wearing his normal attire. Instead, he wore a red and white coat with a santa hat. He didn't know much about Santa, but he thought the outfit was stylish and cool! Either way, it was certain to help let anyone who found his appearance suspicious know that he was not a threat to their safety. His intentions were benign. He was the ultimate gift-giver.
A squeak emitted with each step of his hooves, already alleviating most tension caused by his appearance. Upon spotting the adorable triplets before him, he grinned wider, rushing toward them. They were just as he'd heard, barely much taller than him with cat ears and tails. He snickered to himself at how excited Nami would be to meet them when the others arrived.
Stopping himself in front of the girl he'd met prior, Chopper reached behind his back and pulled out a lovely gift-wrapped box, cheering out to the three cat children. "Happy birthday to you~!" His smile and tone hopefully infected them with the same optimism and joy that he felt.
She approaches, her red eyes gleaming happily. finally she could teach this arrogant fool some manners for mocking a loving lady like her! She touched him with her hands and he was turned into…distinctly something non human, no matter which way you look at it. “KYAHAHAHAHAHA! Let’s see if you’re still scary now, chicken! Well ya are one now! I made the outside match the inside!” She holds her sides, laughing at her ingenuity. (Multisvoices, Capella)
He stood there for a moment, confused.
The sensation of feathers brushing against his skin, his own skin, registered before the sight of his transformed body did. His once-pristine white coat now draped awkwardly over wings he couldn’t quite flex properly, his golden buttons straining against the new shape of his torso. He blinked, and the world tilted sideways, his vision suddenly sharper, narrower. The ground was closer. Too close. His throat tightened, but what came out wasn’t the furious decree he intended, just a weak, baffled squawk.
“What …”
As he looked down at himself or tried to. His neck bent at an unfamiliar angle, his vision now fragmented into sharp, avian clarity. Gone were the tailored sleeves of his greca coat, the gold-edged cuffs he had so meticulously maintained. In their place: feathers. White, fluffed, absurdly ordinary feathers. He twitched, and the motion sent a ripple through his new body, a shudder of plumage that should not exist. His talons, talons scrabbled against the cobblestones, the sound like dry twigs snapping.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME YOU BITCH!”
He stepped forward, clucking an involuntary, instinctive sound that slithered from his beak before he could clamp it shut. The absurdity of it burned hotter than any humiliation he’d ever endured. Clucking. Like some barnyard fool. His wings flapped uselessly at his sides, the weight of his former coat now a tangled shroud around his diminished form.
“My rights, my rights, my rights!
As he looked up at her, his golden eyes, once murky with disinterest, now wide and unblinking, the pupils pinpricks in a sea of molten fury. This idiot! As Capella loomed over him, her grin splitting her face like a knife wound, her red eyes alight with mirth. The height difference was obscene now; he had to crane his neck just to meet her gaze, his beak parting slightly as if to speak, but all that came out was another wretched cluck.
