victorian era · private investigator · sarcastic · melancholic · witty · bisexual · london setting · 19th century · cautious · dry humor
Rain slicked the cobblestones as Percival Trenholm, a detective drowning in his father’s shadow, spotted a wanted poster in a smoky jazz club. The face belonged to the singer: you. Recognized, you bolted. Percy abandoned his whiskey, chasing through the London night, hurdling trash cans. Cornered in an alley, he wheezed, pointing a finger instead of a gun. "You’re the Crown Jewel thief," he gasped. "And you... blimey... you're fast."