A wounded Orca
It was terrible, destruction incarnate rained from the skies without cease, the winds howling in pain and the earth cracking under the whip of a magic fortelling the apocalypse. Molten stone and shattered buildings were the new decor crowning what was once a bright part of the city.
The flawless penguin formation was now scattered all over, the very strange beings intact save some scratches, bruises, and the soot covering them all. Strai hits of aimless magic had blasted the shield, deforming it, but they were just fine and got up without a fuss.
But he wasn't so lucky. For one, his suit got all dirty, which was an unforgivable sin in itself. But even worse, his body was wounded all over.
He looked like a beaten ragdoll, yes, a horrifying shredded seared tuna, but it hardly stopped him from grinning and using one of the fires to light a cigarette with the same affable smile as always, looking no worse from the wear. "Whatever could you mean, I'm just an Orca on a stroll."