Ain't there a social worker for this? [Obsu]

Some time ago in the past...

Barlowe was at his desk, going over some reports and paperwork. Things had... not exactly been slow but there had only been one other notable incident recently being what was described as "a giant fucking ice snake." But based on what the MRO had reported, there was no longer any evidence of that. There was a lot to unpack with that and it all sounded crazy to him. But he hadn't been there and crazy was the norm these days.

The only other incident that was of more interest to him was a recent blow struck against the local mafia. Apparently one of their rivals finally got one of the big men, and he had a pretty good idea which of them it was based on how... discreet it had been. There was no open or blatant use of force, there had been no show of force at all as a matter of fact. The guy was just found dead one day, poisoned as it were. Anyone with means or reason to do the deed had alibis that all checked out. It was very profesional. So his first thought was immediately that Three Oni was behind this, as they have had bad blood with the local mafia before in the past.

But so far nothing had come of this, and things seemed to continue on as if nothing had really happened. Plus it was still snowing, a fact that the recently elected mayor had asked them to look into. That sounded more like a job for the local supers to deal with. But they seemed to be... busy for lack of an actual answer. Then the captain called him into her office, which was rarely good. "Barlowe, have a seat. How's your case against Three Oni going?" She asked him seriously, she didn't offer him a drink which was a mixed blessing in disguise.

"Without any hard evidence, everything is speculation and probable cause as always," Barlowe replied taking a sip of his coffee, it felt like it was too early for whatever was about to happen.

"So you don't have any other pressing cases since that disturbance at The Little Nightmare was taken care of?" She continued, fishing around for something in her desk.

"That seems to be the case, yes Captain. What are you sticking me with now?" Barlowe asked wanting to get to the point of why she called him in. He'd get part of his answer in the form of a folder that she set on the desk for him to look over.

"Nothing bad, not really anyway. But I would prefer it if you were the one to do it," she replied without directly answering his question. Barlowe would find out for himself what she was talking about, as he started reading up on some kid named.... Lena Lovegood? He felt like there was a joke here, and he was the butt of it. "Like I said, nothing bad and nothing that requires much paperwork. I just want you to go check up on her is all," the captain added.

"So I'm a parole officer now? Ain't there other people whose job it is to actually check up on her? And why not ask anyone else if it's that simple?" Barlowe asked with a frown. It wasn't the fact that he was adverse to work (despite all appearances), but he was still sure that something big was going to happen in the near future and had a gut feeling that Three Oni would be invovled somehow.

"She's not a criminal, and as you see there's just... look, I know about your medication and all that- maybe you won't have to worry about her... powers as much. Plus everyone here has seen you looking into stranger matters with that Hans guy. Out of everyone here, I feel like you're better suited to this. If I asked someone else to do this and read any of this, they'd think it was some kind of joke," the captain explained with a tired sigh. Barlowe echoed it for different reasons. So now he was a babysitter for "weirdos." Great to know his contribution to the force hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Well, it's not the hardest or worst thing you've stuck me with. Plus I'd rather keep getting paid, so sure- I'll do it," Barlowe conceded to his fate.
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Now...

Barlowe would drive through Midtown, he spent much of his off time around here- particularly at Sol's Grilling Bar. Especially with all of this snow, it was a great place to warm himself up in more ways than one. But outside of that, he still didn't know his way around as much as he did The Slums. He didn't know what that said about him as he found himself a parking spot, and walked up to one of the older looking apartment buildings. He wondered how this was gonna go, with what he learned from her file. Now that he was walking up to her door and everything, he really wasn't looking forward to this as much as he originally thought. But he had his meds on hand, just in case. Wasn't sure if they'd actually help or make things... worse but they helped keep him calm whenever he started having episodes. Meant they'd work for other behavior altering things right?

Barlowe would knock on the door... better get this over with.

Lena was home.

Granted, when not in school, it was where people would find her most of the time. Not many sought her out though, if any. She was a shut-in, of sorts. She liked her little condo very much. But also hated it. Depending on the day and the mood. It was a safe place, where she could go around without wearing the suffocating suit and a helmet. Instead donning all sorts of cute summer dresses, which she wore for her audience only. Ones that left the shoulders bare and had a tasteful amount of cleavage. It was increasing the views on her twitch streams, at least! Right now, she was sitting in her computer chair, with the camera about at the chest level, as the girl was streaming a popular game called Legend of Leagues.

"Hiya guys! This is Le Meow and it is my Nth episode of Climbing to Diamond, in which you will watch my terrible attempts at getting in a league that actually exceeds my skillcap! Teehee! Aaaand right off the bat we have the first donation by... ILikeTits69? "Thank you for your wonderful streams, Le Meow, your energetic personality, solid working ethic, and respect towards opponents at the end of the game are an inspiration to us all. Please keep gifting us with more of your wonderful content." Aww, thanks! You're such a gentleman. I'm doing my best here!" - Lena chuckled, and shifted her figure back and forth a little bit, to make things bounce.

Her apartment was a safe place, yes. But also a prison. The items, the furniture, the walls were all carrying her scent. Nobody else was allowed here, only herself. It was sad, in a way. What's the point in having your own place when you cannot invite anyone to visit? The streams, besides earning a bit of cash, also offered her a window to the world, where she could interact with others without fearing of bewitching them. Even if they were a bunch of simps looking to worship a girl on the internet with a pretty face. She was about to start a ranked game, when suddenly she heard the knock at the door. Lena's eyes went wide for a little while. She was not expecting anyone, and the landlord was only coming at the end of the month... The girl than grinned at the camera and spoke:

"Oh my, the door! Just a second guys, Imma go get it, and then we're going back to our heroic grinding! Don't go away!" - Lena said and paused the stream, before running off to the door. Who would be bothering her on this day? She was both curious, and cautious at the same time. Unexpected visitors usually meant trouble. The girl looked through the peephole to see who it was, and saw an unfamiliar face on the other side. A tall, disheveled man that looked like he jumped off straight from the pages of a 70s comics! The ones about detectives - with a suit, a three-day shave, and a 1000-yard stare. The vibes she was getting from behind the door weren't great either. Annoyance? Ridicule? What was up with this guy?

"Who are you? Whachu want?" - her voice came from the other side of the door.

Barlowe was understandably, completely and utterly ignorant of everything going on beyond that door, and many key details of her life. Some of which he had buried up until now but now it was all boiling up to the surface now that he was here. "Why did I agree to this again?" He silently wondered as he used the brief moment he had to just glance around. Did she seriously live here all on her own? He seriously doubt it had been anything like his growing up- mostly due to his being in the military. Then he heard what he assumed to ber her voice through the door, there were very vew possibilities as to who it was unless she also had a cleaning lady.

"Lena Lovegood? Detective Barlowe of the JCPD," Barlowe replied, also flashing his badge through the peephole. There had to be a joke here, and normally he'd probably find it funny if he wasn't the butt of it right now. It just sounded... well he should be making the comparison with a minor invovled. "Got a moment to talk?" He added, making his intentions known. It was clear he wasn't exactly thrilled to be here, and he wanted to get this over with. But he was professional enough to "grin and bare it."

So it's a cop, figures...

Lena rolled her eyes, hearing the muffled voice from the other side. "Detective Barlowe? What happened to Mr. Simmons? He's usually the one to check on me once a month and ask stupid questions..." - she asked, though it did not matter in the long run. Just another government stooge to pretend he cared. In truth, the girl doubted they even cared if she told the truth or lied, so long there's an X next to her name in the checkbox. Groaning, Lena added:

"Uhhh, fine fine! Give me a moment to get dressed!" - she said, and went back to the room to do just that. Pulling her black body-costume from the hangar, and pulling herself into it. Nhhh... a bit tight after the washers... Or am I getting fat?! I should probably start running again... Hmm... unless the audience likes a bit of chub... BAH!" - Lena groaned, as she changed into her outside attire. The yellow biker helmet came on next, sealing her head, hiding her eyes, and putting some material between her brain and that of the poor defenseless would-be victims. Like Detective Barlowe over there.

"Things I do for love..." - the girl groaned, before taking the keys, and starting to open the door.

First lock, second... third... The girl sure had a lot of locks on her door. Eventually, it would open, and the man would feast his eyes on a jet-black shadow wearing a yellow cat-like biking helmet. She would walk out and slam the door shut behind herself, resting her back on it to keep it closed. Then, she took a better look at the guy. 'Really looks like one from those detective novels huh... Well, in the novels, blokes like him are usually the good guys.' - Lena thought, before waving her hand.

"Hiyo. Lena Lovegood here. That's me. Sup?"

Well he had her attention at least, was a good enough start as he didn't acknowledge the reply. Again it wasn't any of his business what she did in her personal life- could've been any number things. Sounded like she had a slight attitude problem but he'd heard worse... like a certain psychopath working for the government allegedly. While he waited he'd pull out a cigarette and light it, taking a drag off from it. He really should think about quitting, but then he'd only have drinking left for vices, and then it'd get lonely. "Fucking cold," he thought with a shiver at the unnatural winter that seemed to have long overstayed its welcome. Those titans should get onto fixing that- or someone should, because he was not going to be the one to look into it. It was far beyond his pay grade.

Hearing not one, not two, but three locks come undone, he'd turn back toward the door as Lena came out. He didn't even seem to blink, much less react to it. This was Jump after all, there were a lot of stranger things here. "Right, morning," Barlowe greeted her, ignoring the fact that it was becoming the afternoon now due to lack of caffeine. He'd rub out the rest of his cigarette on the ground with his shoe, though he suddenly realized it may have not mattered with her wearing a helmet and all but it was another habit of his. "I've been asked to check up on you, see how you're getting on- stupid questions you've already answered before. How long have you been biking?" Barlowe goes through the mundane blah blah- was a bad sign when even he acknowledged that what he was doing was redundant, when he asked a genuine question out of curiosity. Of cours he was just assuming she had a bike, given her get up.

Lena could almost feel the tangible indifference coming from this guy.

It's like the two of them were stuck in a theater doing a charade. Except there was no audience around, both doing the formalities. Her shoulders drooped a little. She signed up for this program thinking that people would help her rehabilitate some. Instead, they were just worried about her not doing anything 'illegal' with her 'gift'. Figures.

"Right... Lessee now... What kind of things did mister Simmons usually ask me... Ah yes. Yes, I am still attending 13th High-school. No, I did not miss too many classes. Yes, I've been wearing the suit when outside my place, as you can clearly see. No, I did not try to use my abilities to seduce anyone. No, I did not feel any urges to do so. No, nobody tried to get their hands on me in the past month. Yes, I go to buy things after hours. Think that's it..."

Lena used her fingers to count all the seemingly inane answers she was giving Barlowe. Truth to be told, it was kind of getting on her nerves. And the detective would be able to feel it. As though the girl's own emotions radiated away from her, pushing at his own consciousness. But then, suddenly, the tide would subside, as she realized what she was doing, and shrunk a little, folding her hands together.

"And no, I'm not riding a bike, mister policeman. I'm not old enough to own one! I have a scooter and a bicycle though, been practicing since I was 10 I think."

She rolled her eyes again under the helmet, before catching a pang of annoyance under the indifference in her questioner. As if the whole attitude in general was a mask to hiding something. What made it fall off was the last question. It seemed off-the-script. It was not a good thing to pry at these emotions, but...

"Are you really a detective, Mr. Barlowe? Usually they send a beat cop or a social worker. Why send a detective to do the legwork? Or did you do something baaaad?"

Oh, she was curious now.

Barlowe was already making a mental check list, wanting to get this routine over with. Nothing sounded out of the ordinary, it all seemed on the up and up... not like she'd just admit to anything to the contrary. But based on her attitude he was sure she wasn't lying. But then why did he suddenly feel so irritated? Generally one could find a cause and effect to explain a change in mood, except this just came out of no where. He blinked and arched an eyebrow curiously, having only one commonality that could explain it. But he didn't say anything and, tried to not let it bother him. This really was so- what was the word? Impersonal? How many times had she gone through this routine? That's what it was right?

He was brought out of his musing when she asked him about why he had really been sent. "Bad at not asking for a raise," Barlowe quipped. Was she paying him more mind now or was that just his imagination? "Who told you that? Far as I remember, someone yer age can own and operate one so long as you have the paperwork in order," Barlowe added thoughtfully. Regardless of whether or not he was accurate in remembering, there was a thing in california where it was definitely possible. But you needed a certain license or permit so long as you were under the age of 21- if you were 21 or over, you didn't need em. "But I'm too old, and shit changes from time to time so don't quote me on that. So do you just hide here all day?" Barlowe asked. So far this wasn't as strange or awkward as he had been expecting- which given her answers and what was on file, was probably because of the suit.

'He dodged the question... Might be personal, huh?'

Lena tilted her head to the side, as she listened to Barlowe derail from her question and towards the biking subject. Did they really allow people under 18 to ride motorcycles? Huh, weird. Guess when a stupid youth becomes a stain on the road while riding a 2-wheeled vehicle, it's fine, but put them at the seat of a car, and you're suddenly a problem. She shrugged.

"Laws are weird. Not like I have the money for a motorcycle right now. And mom and dad won't be buying me one any time soon."

The girl shifted her weight from her heels to the tips of her toes, and then backwards. Then came the second question.

"I live here yah." - Lena wasn't going as far as to call it 'hiding'. Then again... living was a stretch too. Guess hiding was one way to put it. Worse than living, better than imprisoned. "Sorry I don't invite you in for a cup of tea, detective. I don't invite people much, if ever. Especially guys. There is ... 'the scent'. Girls are okay-ish. They only get blushy and red to the face. But the last guy I invited home got ... aggressive. Which was fine since he's a skinny nerd. But I'm not taking chances with you, mr. Barlowe. You're a pretty big boy, who looks like he's ironing his own shirts." - Lena noted the rather subpar straightness of his shirt, and a lack of a ring on the finger. The girl crossed her arms behind her back and stretched out, arching her back while touching the door behind her with her head and rear.

"Anything else you want to know about lil' ol' me, detective? Also, is this gonna be a regular gig from now on? Are you replacing mr. Simmons for good?"

She didn't know that the captain had asked him personally because she trusted him more than the other "beat cops" she should've asked for this. The "guy" she mentioned had also been referenced in the file. From what he was gathering, it was definitely the suit keeping everything nice and not... weird. But that sounded rough. "Do I? Should probably stop then- or else it'll look like I actually do work for a living," Barlowe joked when she mentioned his shirt. He did note that she seemed... distracted for lack of a better word. Was probably the first time she had a conversation with someone since the routine "check ups" she was getting. Or maybe he had interupted something, hence her saying she needed to get dressed. Asleep maybe? Barlowe yawned as he was reminded of his lack of coffee just by the mere thought of sleep.

"Sorry, getting on in age. Always need a cup of coffee in my hand every morning- and yeah, there's plenty I could ask if you have the time. What you looking forward to after you graduate?" he apologized for yawning. She didn't seem like a bad kid, despite her attitude from before. Just seemed to have bad luck trailing her. "But what's it matter to you? Like me more than Simmons?" Barlowe asked curiously when she asked if this was going to be a regular thing. Simmons... he didn't know if he would be surprised or disappointed if his first name was Richard.

Lena smirked sourly under her helmet, as she noticed the yawn.

"Yeah, my life's been a roller-coaster of excitement so far." - she sighed and shook her head. Couldn't help but feel a little bit sorry for herself at that. The police fellow's been around for 2 minutes or so and he was already bored. The pang of sadness emanating from her would wash over the man as well, as he was well within range. The question about what she'd do after school made her look up, as if thinking, and give another shrug.

"I dunno. Chemical hazard worker? Beekeeper? Astronaut? If neither of these work out I could become a trophy wife and milk a millionaire for his dollars, or go apply for the Legion of Doom. I hear they're always hiring. Ha-ha." - she laughed at her own job. 'I don't suppose a twitch celebrity is a valid enough career... Besides it will only work while I'm young and pretty... Will I even age now that I'm a meta?' - Lena wondered.

When that last question was asked though, the girl appeared... startled. On an instinct, she opened the door behind herself and passed half-way through it, putting it between herself and the detective. From this relatively safe surveying position, she surveyed the man for a little while. His emotion range did not seem to be in the 'enamored' stage yet. But still, she knew the suit was not fool-proof, and even standing in her presence for too long tended to make men more... excited. Lena narrowed her eyes under her helmet.

"I don't know, maybe? You both are kinda the same. Both of you are here because your paycheck depends on it. You're asking more questions in 5 minutes than he did in a year though."

Cautiously, Lena walked out the door and closed it behind herself again. Still flighty, as it could be told in her stance.

"Besides... since you're a detective, you might have better stories to tell than a regular beat cop. Since you're supposed to spend an hour a week here pretending to care for me and I'm supposed to pretend I'm grateful, might as well share, neh?"

Barlowe noticed the odd... shift of emotions again, and it was only by that he realized that even though he apologized, it dawned on him that it may come off as he was bored with her. But before he finished having that thought, she had suddenly ducked back inside- like a spooked animal. He didn't think what he said had been too suspect... but again hindsight was twenty twenty. Now he was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable, because he was really just trying not to come off as a totally indifferent asshole, for once. It was unusually hard, what with feeling so tired all the time. He considered apologizing again but felt like it'd be better not to draw attention to it right now. Besides she brought up that he probably had more interesting stories... albeit with sass like from before. But one thing that stuck out was her claiming he was here because his paycheck depended on it. Right... not because he had been asked to or anything.

Barlowe squashed his first initial thought to respond, taking a step back more as a silent acknowledgement that he had regardless of intent, made her uncomfortable, and he was trying to help her relax. "I may not always have the time to bore you to tears," Barlowe replied, not saying no but also not saying yes. It was just a fact of this strange situation. He had not been required to do this, he was just doing because he was asked. But was it really that simple? He could've said no. But then what would've been the alternative? Go back to hitting his head against a wall until Three Oni finally got their hand caught in the cookie Jar? Did... that thought really just cross his mind? He needed a coffee.

"Right..."

The two remained silent as the conversation died down a tad. The detective did not seem to have much to say, and Lena didn't know what else to ask of him. Then again, it was not like they were best buds or anything. She was a 'potential delinquent', and he was the one to keep an eye on her. The arrangement did not suggest for any degrees of proximity between the two. Which... was kind of a shame. A friendly face at one's doorstep would've been... nice to see, every once in a while.

'He's tired.' - Lena thought to herself, briefly looking at that sorry, apologetic face. 'Really tired. Like... an all-nighter kinda tired.'

She had an idea.

"Wait here." - the girl said before entering her apartment and closing the door shut behind. For the next few minutes, the cop would hear the sound of water boiling in an electric cattle, and some other sounds. Eventually, the girl would emerge again, with a one-use cup of coffee in hand. The scents filled the air, the drink had an almost seductive, alluring quality to it.

"Here ya go. Your face was screaming for a cup-o-joe. It's insta-coffee, so don't expect wonders."

Lena only hoped none of her pheromones were on that cup when she made the drink. Or in the coffee. But even if there were, it wouldn't be a lot. How bad could it get?

There wasn't much to say at the moment. Plenty to ask but besides being tired, they weren't buddy buddies. Not to mention that she was still in school, and he worked in law enforcement. Plus there was the awkwardness that her powers seemed to be creating. Simply put it wasn't going well. He had been about to try and take his leave before this awkward silence got worse, when she told him to hold on. "Hm?" Barlowe blinked as she darted back inside. He could kind of hear what sounded like water and a kettle. Based on his current need for coffee and what he did know of her powers, there was only viable conclusion.

Then she came back out with a cup of coffee, confirming his suspicion. "Oh... thanks- I'm sure it's fine," Barlowe said with gratitude. He did remember something and so carefully reached out for the cup, trying not to accidentally touch one of her fingers. It was just what he needed right now- both to keep awake and also to stave off the cold that was also helping him stay awake. "It's actually quite good," Barlowe admitted, though wasn't sure why. Insta-coffee was what he had when he first woke up, and he knew roughly what it was like. Maybe it was just the fact he really needed it. Either way he enjoyed the rest of it and only slightly wished there had been more.

"I really needed that, thank you very much," Barlowe thanked her, offering the cup back to her- carefully of course. His body language or facial expression didn't change too much, almost as if it was normal for him. But he did sound more awake at least."Well I don't wanna overstay my welcome; feel like I interrupted something. So I'll get out of your hair... as for hearing some of my stories- I wouldn't mind taking a break from time to time," he actually answered her question. Sure, he wouldn't mind- though he was still not sure about how he felt about it. About the only people he spoke to much outside of work was a few officers, the captain, Sol and Hans. Of course, conversations with Sol were very one sided for obvious reasons.

"... You must've been living off the cheaper brands of insta-coffee then, buddy."

Lena shrugged, did not expecting a compliment for her coffee-making to be actually genuine. But at least the grizzled detective looked less of an awkward grouch than he was, now. Still, both of them felt like this was a good time to turn around and get back to their own things. The cop had his duties fulfilled, and she had a waiting stream to get back to.

"But yeah... I kind of have people waiting on me. Not physically, but still, you know. Internet and stuff. Guess I'll be seeing you around then huh? Bring up a detective story next time you're here, okay? Would make the conversation much less awkward. See ya!"

With what, the girl waved her hand, and soon disappeared behind the door. The locks rattling behind, until all of them were closed, leaving the detective alone in the corridor. Though she left, a certain perfume gently wafted through the air, as an afterthought of what a shame it was that the meeting did not last longer. Once inside, Lena pulled off her helmet and took a deep breath.

"Phew, thank God that's over. I was starting to sweat through my suit..." - she groaned, quickly peeling that one off too. A part of her thought to perhaps show up before her audience in underwear only... But that would violate Twitch's agreements. With a sigh, she went for a shower first. Her audience deserved seeing her fresh and perky, and not squeezed like a lemon and all sweaty...

'Though I'm sure there are weirdos who'd be into that... I wonder what sorts of things is mr. Detective into...'

A curious thought to have in a shower.

Barlowe's eyebrow raised slightly after she mentioned internet and stuff. Again, none of his business. "Sure, sure. Take it easy," Barlowe replied not sure what to make of the hasty retreat. He felt like he was making a lot of assumptions for no reason. Very specific assumptions that just popped up. He'd start to light another cigarette as he started to head back to his car, deciding while he was in this part of town, to pay a visit to his favorite bar. Why did he agree to this again?

She didn't seem like a bad kid. But something about this just made him slightly uncomfortable. He was actually looking forward to talking with her again, a thought which shouldn't be sticking out so much in his mind but it was. The cigarette only eased his mind slightly, As much as he was looking forward to it, he was hoping that he wasn't going to suddenly get saddled with more stuff like this.