Weather’s not that bad out, for once. Not nearly as foggy as the town usually is, and the temperature mixed in with a pleasant breeze makes for a lovely afternoon. Breen Torrents, taking full advantage of the perfect day like today, just relaxes. Arms crossed behind his back, legs crossed in front of him - the world is carefree and easy on a day like this. Drink in one hand, map in the other; nothing can go wrong on such a serene afternoon, speed picking up as he plummets to the ground.
Oh yeah.
Right.
“Uh-huh, let’s see...if my calculations are correct, I’ve hit terminal velocity at this exact point, so I can’t possibly be going any faster within the conundrums of mathematical equations.” He flips his 3-D glasses back down, taking a sip from his soda. “Whatever the fuck that means…”.
Despite the countless amounts of times he had been scolded by his girlfriend to never, ever, ever, under any circumstances take any more missions involving Magnetons with the temper tolerance of a little kid with a firecracker, Breen decided, “What the hell, how bad could it be.”
Pretty bad, Breen. Pretty fuckin’ bad.
Even if the explosion of the Magneton only left a few scars and bruises here and there, the impact of falling to his doom might cause his death. But oh, look. The guild! It’s getting awfully bigger and bigger the more time passes…
...oh Arceus.
The Marshtomp plummets through the roof, effectively knocking over spare buckets and mops on his way down through the attic (one such bucket toppling over his head, acting as a helmet. For added protection, who else to save his fall than Archie! His feathery ‘lil body acting as the perfect cushion for a pretty lightweight Pokemon falling to his impending doom - saved! In front of every. Single. Pokemon in the guild. Ouch.
Still residing in the same position as before, he tilts the bucket upwards, adjusting his ballcap in the process, looking around at the destruction in front of him. He slides his glasses back up, tossing the bucket behind him.
He smiles awkwardly, holding up a small bag of coins. “Uh-heh. Yeah, uh...mission’s all set and done, Archie, buddy! You won’t be hearing from that evil Magneton anymore!” He takes off his cap, dusting it off - a few bits and pieces of scrap metal and screws falling out of it. “...mostly because nobody will be hearing from that Magneton anymore, uh, whoops…
“Uh, Archie...you, uh? You...you’re not alright...okay, uh… well.” He looks around at the surrounding crowd, quickly flipping the Archen over onto his back, using the bucket for support. He crosses Archie’s arms behind his head and ever so slowly places a pair of sunglasses on him. “Well, hey! With this new sun-roof ya got installed, uh… it works...yeah, yeah…” He looks left. Right. And runs away, hiding in the Supply Closet.
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Chapatrap