Simple and straight to the point. Topher could respect that. He carried his bag of tools slung over his shoulder as the lower half of his face remained covered with a surgical mask. While Raphael had certainly seen his face already, he wore it for the sake of his work.

"I just realized it was something I was good at," he shrugged. "Some messes require a special touch to make sure they're spotless. This is your first time, right? You'll get used to it. It's a lot of gore, but if you can stomach it, it'll be an easy ride."

As the pair approached the scene, the stench fell strong enough to force its way through the mask on his face. The first thing he picked up was hot hot it smelled in the building. Summer heats were harsh, but the fact the bodies had been left to fester for so long made it worse. Flies buzzed around the scene as Topher was the first to approach the body. Perhaps this hadn't been the right job to bring Raphael to, but little did he realize that the gang life certainly left the man open to seeing worse.

Topher knelt down and dropped his bag to the ground with a heavy thud. The smell was putrid, like rotten meat left out in the sun for too long. It would be too much for them to piece apart, so he figured the next best option was to let his Sandygeist let loose. The small pile of sand seeped out of its pokeball and slid its way towards the bloated corpse.

"Cleo. Devour it."

As if on command, the sand-based pokemon scooted its way towards the corpse and slipped in through every orifice it could find and began to break the corpse down from the inside. To save Raphael the sight, he turned to face the man and opted to distract him from the way his Sandygeist began to break the body down.

"Our next course of action is to search the grounds for any more corpses to rid ourselves of. If there are any prying eyes, we're to take care of them."

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It seemed the man's Scolipede was eager to chow down. Topher pondered for a moment: maybe he should invest into a search for a Scolipede of his own. Once the Sandygast managed to devour the corpse it chose to work on, Topher cocked his head to the side to gesture for the creature to follow along. It slinked over to Topher's side as he followed Raphael's search. Though he halted his steps as he caught a slightly ajar door from his peripheral. It would't hurt to see just what the warehouse had to hide.

He approached with caution, ready to take on whatever decided to pop out from behind the door. Topher propped the door open with the tip of his shoe and used the light of his phone to get a better look. All that sat in the room were kilos upon kilos of blocks of heroin. Though the only scent that hit him was the smell of gasoline. A few empty gallons sat around the rudimentary workshop that the gang must have been using. He stepped out for a few moments to breathe some fresh air. It was almost like the room didn't have enough ventilation.

When he peered in once more, he finally caught the sight of a corpse on the ground, hunched over in a puddle of dried vomit. It was obvious they had been there for a bit, rigor mortis fully set in. And to top it all off, it seemed some Rattatas had begun to gnaw at it, but it seemed they practically suffocated in this hellhole too. Christ. Topher peered his head out of the door and glanced over to Raphael.

"Over here. Make sure not to linger for too long. I think this one died way before and my guess is that it might have been from gasoline poisoning. There's piss poor ventilation in here and a metric fuckton of dope."

Conscience got the better of him. There was no way they could deal with all of the heroin blocks they were faced with. Maybe it'd be better to set the place on fire when it came down to it. But they'd have to flee as soon as possible. (It'd make for a decent cover. It seemed fires were breaking out throughout the region. It could just be marked as another petty crime.)

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raphael dos plumas