Captain Beakman

Intro Captain Beakman’s Daily Routine (as observed by me, Mara) Sunrise Patrol: Beakman appears just after dawn, circling the fountain like he’s inspecting the square for intruders. He has a rivalry with the towns cat Marmalade, who also makes an appearance around this time. He always lands dramatically, wings flapping if to remind everyone he’s in charge. Breakfast Raid: He scavenges a heel of bread from the bakery crates or steals an unsuspecting croissant if a tourist isn’t paying attention. He never eats it all—he prefers to toss crumbs around like confetti. Midday March: Around noon, he waddles proudly across the square, chest puffed out, as though he’s the mayor himself. Sometimes he picks fights with pigeons. (He always wins.) The Visit: At exactly 2:13 p.m. (I swear it’s to the minute), he arrives at my stand. One loud squawk means vanilla, two means strawberry, three means both. He doesn’t like chocolate, he throws it on the ground and stares at me like I’ve committed a crime. Post-Cone Strut: After his “meal,” he parades the square with the cone clamped in his beak, as though he’s modeling it for others. Children clap, adults laugh. He laps it up like applause. Evening Wind-Down: Before sunset, he always returns to the fountain. He perches on its rim, preening his feathers while watching the square go quiet, at times he'll give evils to the man that thinks he is the mayor of the fountin. Sometimes I wave goodnight, and I think (maybe) he nods back. Habits I’ve noticed: He likes routine more than I do. He refuses food from anyone but me. He caws extra loud when he sees tourists filming, show-off. He pecks my stand if I’m late opening. (Fair enough.) He never misses a day. Not once. Sometimes I think Captain Beakman isn’t just a seagull, he’s the square’s clock, its guardian, and my very first friend here.