[color=#1A1A3B][b][u][h1][sub][sub][sub]Farren[/sub][/sub][/sub][/h1][/u][/b][/color]                  realized–far too damned late–that this had been ill-conceived. Sending easily their heaviest up a rickety wooden ladder, still fully armed, without a second thought. Of course, that thought was crowded out by brief instinctual panic, followed swiftly by his brow lowering as he swore through gritted teeth and–rather than jump immediately, dismount, or leap up to try and catch the lip of the roof at the cost of dropping his loaded gun, Farren rode the ladder’s fall. While it continued to splinter and break beneath him, Farren used his sharpened senses and reflexes to gauge the moment before it would fully splinter and break into multiple pieces rather than one fractured ladder.

The moment before it did so, Farren pushed off, up and forward, angling his feet a bit ahead of him in the air as he moved. The jump offset some of his downwards momentum, and given that he was even closer to the ground before doing it, he managed to land on his feet with only a slightly unpleasant shock traveling up the bones of his legs as he struck ground. His knee came down due to the angular momentum and so he found himself on one knee, knife and blunderbuss still in hand, but pressed to the earth each with their own dull noises. For a moment, Farren didn’t breathe, but he didn’t stand still either, instead he moved immediately, standing, twisting, and stepping back before the ladder finished its descent to the ground, crumpling in a long string of twisted wooden debris.

As he glared at the remnants of the ladder, Farren spat on the ground, [color=#1A1A3B][b]“You want atop that roof? Do it yourself,”[/b][/color] he half growled, though really he was more irritated with himself than her. Well…himself and whoever had put together the poorly built construction, not to mention the numerous people who hadn’t kept it properly maintained.

What a bloody mess….