Chief Caleb Johnson didn't ask for his job. Then again, nobody would, seeing as his predecessors were not the luckiest men. One was torn limb from limb by an eldritch war machine, one was crushed by debris in the Chimera Incident, and one was blown to smithereens by Cosmic Retribution. At some point, they stopped appointing invaluable individuals with a lifetime of experience, and started appointing people they found expendable.
And so, that's when Detective Johnson, who snitched on the Police Union once or twice, got appointed to the position in the department with highest mortality rate at the tender age of 36, the youngest Chief of Police in Shoal Water's history. He'd be better off in Bomb Deposal.
Seventy percent of his day was spent behind a desk, dealing with the paperwork of the latest catastrophe. His light brown hair was often left unkempt from how little time he spent at home and his face covered with scruff. He never even got out of his tan trench coat because he knew as so