Caveship

4 || Vincent

"What a mess..." Vincent grumbles softly as his vehicle pulls up to 'Ground Zero', the name they were calling the scene he'd been assigned to help oversee, a few officers moving the wooden barriers that were being used to deny onlookers access to the area. His vehicle whines to a stop as he parks, shutting off the old clunker of a car he refused to replace. Opening the door, which groans from decades of constant use, he slowly shifts to leave the vehicle, but pauses suddenly. He reaches back to pick up his cup of coffee, the thick styrofoam branded with the greens and blacks of his favorite coffee shop. Cup in hand, the man pulls himself to a stand. The sudden shift in weight causing the vehicle's shocks to groan.

Now fully in the light, it becomes obvious that Vincent is a man of average height and build. His short, thick red hair, blue eyes and pale skin speak volumes of his Irish heritage. A blue dress shirt and khaki pants, complete with black leather belt round out a typical business casual attire. The only thing off about the ensemble is Vincent's shoes, which are just black sneakers meant not to draw attention, but still look at a swift glance like dress shoes. He sets his coffee onto the hood of his car briefly, but only to reach in and acquire a messer fedora, slowly lifting it to his head.

"Good of you to finally show up, Vince." A female officer steps in closer, more decorated than the rest of her peers, which affords her a more serious consideration compared to the other officers. Her hair, normally lengthy and blonde, is pulled up into a ponytail to keep it out of her face, and her green eyes and charming complexion do little to dull the annoyance leveled toward Vincent. Her badge reflects her position of 'Captain', and her outfit is spotless, as pert and professional as she can manage it. It's clear she takes her position and job very seriously. "I called you out here an hour ago."

"Yeah, well..." Vincent slowly lifts his free hand to his chin, scratching it lightly, his nails generating a soft noise as they glide over the scruffiness of his five o'clock shadow. His attention turns to his coffee on the hood of his car, reaching out to pick it up. "There was tons of traffic." There's an awkward silence as the female stares at him, incredulous. Her eyes visibly dart from Vincent's face, to his coffee, then back to his face again. "Yet you had enough time to get coffee."

Vincent is clearly without a response to that, except to lift the cup to his lips and sip from the plastic top's opening. He lowers it again, licks his lips, and gently tips the cup toward her. "You know, you seem like you could use some, Katherine."

Katherine merely throws her arms into the air, turning to walk away from him. "Unbelievable..."

Vincent moves to quietly follow her, trying to take stock of the area. The police presence at the clearing is nearly suffocating, too many people in one area for Vincent to easily walk. The leftovers of a party are obvious all around him: coolers full of melted ice and plenty of alcohol, several tents, plenty of fold out chairs. A few vehicles have been left behind, and even with the heavy police presence, it's clear that there was plenty of sudden movement out of the area. Off in the distance, just over the trees left standing, looms what's left of Buckhorn Mountain. It's almost as if the mountain had collapsed in the middle, the peak gone, leaving just one big, messy crater behind.

"What in god's name...?" Vincent says, astonished at the sight.

"The story we've been told to tell people around here is that Buckhorn Mountain collapsed in on itself due to mine shafts collapsing all at once," Katherine explains, staring off into the distance at the sight.

"Between you and me, though, I think that story is a load of bull." She's about to continue speaking, but she's suddenly interrupted as another man approaches.

"Not really your place to make those kinds of assumptions, Captain." The chief of police for Vincent's station, Gunther Williams, was a man to be respected. A veteran of middle eastern wars now police chief, the man stands proud, at least a head taller than either Katherine or Vincent. Much like Katherine, one can tell he takes pride in his work, and that shines brightly through the upkeep of his uniform. His hair is short, but beginning to grey lightly around the edges, something he's worked hard to cover up. His military cut style of short black hair says that he never really left the army, and his brown eyes have an uncharacteristic softness to them.