[center][h2]Fynn LaPlace[/h2][/center]

[i]Click. Click, click, click! Click...[/i]

Fynn's hand was bumped against the small folding table quite purposefully as yet another fluctuation in the local mobile communications grid caused his virtual avatar to find a cruel death in the midst of a bunch of zombies. The rather isolated atmosphere inside his van did not really allow him to notice that his vehicle was already driving on gravel instead of thick tarmac polished by millions of tyres, but the shrinking of available bandwidth was indication of being further and further away from the big city enough.

A gentle jolt pushed the rather small man back into the seat.

"You have reached your destination."

Fynn walked forward through the small door into the driver's cab and toggled a red switch that was hidden away in the center console, causing the hologram portraying a slightly overweight individual with long, blonde hair -- himself! -- occupying the driver's seat to vanish. It was not really of the insane quality he would have preferred, but combined with a darkened windshield the illusion was good enough to make other drivers think that someone was actually driving the thing at a glance. Driving around in a car that looked a bit like a cliché gangster's escape vehicle was not illegal, but... technically not even being in the cab it while it was still moving... would have a slightly different affair as certain car makers were will struggling to achieve that kind of autonomy. Maybe it was save to say that the exterior crappyness of the elderly Dodge Ram Wagon was an understatement in terms of its true qualities.

His eyes struggled with the blazing sunlight as the rear doors opened in front of them. Through the flood of light he could see the rough outlines of the other members of the Sunday Group already being there. Being late was certainly his fault, but he could hate it nontheless! The small, but sturdy suitcase was grabbed quickly and Fynn hauled it over to what he internally already designated as 'wreckage'. The reek of oil reached his nose soon, too, but that was to be expected given that the car had been pretty much wrapped halfway around the tree.

That little fact in itself caused Fynn to take a break and turn left and right on the spot. This was a super low traffic country road and not exactly riddled with many trees of the kind present here, right ? So how much reckless smartphone fiddling did it take to veer so dramatically off course here ? The thought was quickly interrupted though as Fynn's eyes finally saw in more detail how his colleages had gathered around the open driver's door and just how they were taking a few closer looks inside. Something was missing here, something that sheer probability dictated should be around given what the wreck's brand and model label on the trunk said.

"Hey! Erm... you guys and girls [i]do[/i] know that you should not stick your head inside the vehicle while there are at least several undetonated airbags around you ? Just in case you don't want your faces to be rammed into the corpse in there. And has somebody already checked where all that oil smell comes from ? That stuff can burn and the exhaust manifold's gotta be pretty warm, still."

Fynn put down the small suitcase in his hands and walked over towards the ruined SUV's front to try and open the hood, but that was an effort only achieveable by means of a crowbar out of his van. Of course things were all over the place in there, but having inhaled some more air much closer to the potential source he could at least tell it was only oil leaking and not much more easily igniteable gasoline as well. He'd still need the battery connected, though.

The poor dead man in the driver's seat found his left shin moved and squished a little bit as Fynn had to make some room to access something on the lower part of the dashboard next to the brake pedal. He could already feel on his arms how the onset of decay was outfitting the victim's skin with a waxy layer of disgust, but at least the diagnostic connector didn't jam! He needed the data, and not just the data but also some data behind it, and that was why the thing he had just shoved in there was not just [i]any[/i] piece of electronics, but... something a bit more special.

Fynn had little trouble with dumping the hardened suitcase right onto the SUV's roof. Nobody would need the layer of paint to be intact anymore anyway, so he could just as well use it as a makeshift desk while looking onto what the built-in laptop had to show. "Just trying to confirm or rule out the obvious here..." Fynn mumbled more to himself, but still loud enough to make any claim of this also being an attempt to explain what he was doing to his colleagues not entirely unbelieveable. "No matter what kind of runes or other shit the victim has on his skin, we still got a very serious car crash here and quite a bunch of malfunctions after that, too, and I wanna know why..."

Hectically, Fynn's fingers moved accross the keyboard and injected a barrage of instructions into the device before a louder, more distinct thud indicated he had finally been able to hit the return key just knowing everything was ready. "That will take a few minutes. Can you all stand back a bit please, I want to photograph stuff..."

Now just where had he put his camera ? The real camera, not one of those limited excuses that littered every modern smartphone! Some very traditional police work did still have value, too, especially if his boss had already put the real police at sleep!


[hider]
- Fynn tries to raise the Sunday Group's awareness towards safety at work
- He does not truly believe this is just an accident either, but focuses more on the car than the symbols on the victim's skin
[/hider]