CURIOSITY KILLS THE CAT--
-- but don't cats always land on their feet?;
BEEN IN THE DARK SINCE THE DAY WE MET
Full Name:Β Kian (pronounced Khai-an) BarloweΒ Nickname(s):Β Kai, BarloweΒ Age:Β 34Β Date of Birth:Β January 1st, 1990Β Hometown: Queens, New YorkΒ Current Location:Β Hell's Kitchen, New YorkΒ Ethnicity:Β American, IrishΒ Nationality:Β AmericanΒ Gender:Β Cis-maleΒ Pronouns:Β He/HimΒ Orientation:Β UnlabeledΒ Relationship Status: SingleΒ Occupation: Detective, NYPDΒ Language(s) Spoken:Β English, FrenchΒ Positive traits: considerate, observant, hard working, responsible, cooperative Negative traits: careless, sneaky, disorganized, impatient, impulsive
FIRE, HELP ME TO FORGET
-> potential triggering content, including: indicated child neglect and violence
Kian is eight when he has to visit a police station for the first time. It's all loud and exciting, and he's allowed to be up way past his bedtime. He's not tired, though, and he doesn't quite understand what the officer and his mother are discussing about. He just knows that they are there to pick up his Dad, and that the man with the dark eyebrows on his left doesn't like the way he wiggles his feet when he's nervous. One stern look follows the other -- until he stops.
The nervousness doesn't stop, though. It never really does.
Until one night, when it's late, and there's hard bangs on the front door. He's eleven now -- the voices are much easier to understand, and it's much easier to grasp what's going on when it gets louder and louder, and there's a lot of screaming -- his Mom screams. His mom never does -- and she stops screaming at some point, and that's when Kian leaves his bed behind and opens the door.
Everything is a mess, and there's a lot of strangers running around -- police. His parents are gone, and when one of the officers locks eyes with him, he immediately shuts the door and runs to hide in his room -- the officer finds him, of course, and what follows is words that stick with him:
"Don't worry. We're the good guys."
In fact, they stick to him like glue. A good few years later, the scared kid is gone -- and it's leftovers still feature the same nervous ticks, only worsened by coffee.
Just that he's the one with the badge now.
Just that his parents are stuck in prison.
Just that foster care was awful, and foster homes were even worse.
Just that he's the good guy now.
And he will never be the bad one, or; will he?
