[hider=The Gentleman Detective] [center][img]https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRlt6ClLuLvHCfn7MrXhF8Rq5p5hgZZfMlP40tOj2yXA6yn9BI3ng[/img][/center] [color=6A5ACD][u][b]Name:[/b][/u][/color]Mr. Samuel Wu, Esq. [color=6A5ACD][u][b]Age:[/b][/u][/color] 34 [color=6A5ACD][u][b]Sex:[/b][/u][/color] Male [color=6A5ACD][u][b]Sexuality:[/b][/u][/color] ”Straight”. It's 1921, after all. [color=6A5ACD][u][b]Relationship Status:[/b][/u][/color]Confirmed bachelor. [color=FFE8ED][center][h3]The Body[/h3][/center][/color] [color=6A5ACD][u][b]Height:[/b][/u][/color]5'6” [color=6A5ACD][u][b]Weight:[/b][/u][/color] 138 lbs [color=6A5ACD][u][b]Hair:[/b][/u][/color] Black [color=6A5ACD][u][b]Eyes:[/b][/u][/color] Brown [color=6A5ACD][u][b]Skin Tone:[/b][/u][/color] East Asian [color=6A5ACD][u][b]Appearance:[/b][/u][/color]Wu is a well-heeled man of cultivated and genteel appearance. His hair is carefully done, he dresses exclusively in tailored suits, and there is never so much as a speck of dust on his person. [color=FFE8ED][center][h3]The Soul[/h3][/center][/color] [color=6A5ACD][u][b]Likes:[/b][/u][/color] Opera, a glass of wine, the latest investment opportunity, promoting the interests of New York's Chinese population [color=6A5ACD][u][b]Dislikes:[/b][/u][/color] The Tongs, dirt, racist sentiment (it's 1921 so that is most sentiment) [color=6A5ACD][u][b]Skills:[/b][/u][/color] [list] [*] Skilled banker and investor [*] Moderate wealth [*] Influence in Chinatown [*] Wine connoisseur [*] Speaks Mandarin, Cantonese, French, Italian, and English [*] Expert knife thrower [/list] [color=6A5ACD][u][b]Brief History: [/b][/u][/color] [list] [*] 1887: Born in Chinatown to immigrant parents. [*] Schooled in the American tradition, spends as much time as possible in the library. Learned knife throwing from less savory characters in the neighborhood, still practices for stress relief. [*] 1912: Rather than join his brothers in running his father's small tailoring shop, Wu instead goes to work for the Benevolent Fraternity of Merchants, a Chinese-American organization that protects local rights. [*] Frustrated by the refusal of Chinese custom by local white banks, the Fraternity begins operation as an unchartered bank for the Chinese population. Wu is placed in charge of investments and helps make the enterprise profitable. [*] 1900 on: Amidst Wu's slow rise, two local Tongs, the Hip Sing and the On Leong, go to the mattresses. It is a simmering, ongoing war that occasionally explodes into open violence. The Fraternity and the ordinary citizens of Chinatown are caught in between. However, the police and other white authorities largely ignore the brutal gang war. Wu's efforts against the Tong come to naught. [/list] [color=FFE8ED][center][h3]The Story[/h3][/center][/color] The phonograph scratched as the needle caught, and the small but comfortable study was filled with the swell of strings. The overture to Bellini's [i]Il Puritani[/i], featuring as Talbo none other than the incomparable Enrico Caruso (may he rest in peace, gone earlier this year). Mr. Samuel Wu, Esquire nursed a small glass of sherry as he looked over his mail. As he had expected, much of it was letters he had hopefully dropped off at the post office, returned unopened when his Chinese surname and Chinatown return address were noted. Crestfallen, he looked over them. His missives to the New York Post, the Board of Aldermen, the District Attorney, anyone he thought might listen. Despite the perfection and eloquence of his English they had not bothered. With all the talk of mobsters and racketeers, all the men like Rothstein and Dwyer and Morello, no one in this town seemed aware of the decades-long mob war being fought below 14th Street. The Hop Sing and the On Leong had perfected the art of murdering one another over turf and opium long before any of the Jewish, Irish, or Italians began running rum and trading bullets. So many young men dead, so many parents suddenly childless. Wu was suddenly hit by a wave of powerlessness. There had to be something he could do. Maybe if the law would not help it was time he acted on his own. The idea hit him like a thunderbolt. It was silly, it was impractical, of course. But the idea of acting the chivalrous hero, to be a Parsifal or Don Ottavio, it appealed to the child in him. But where to begin? He knew nothing of policing or detecting. Unless he were to take a sabbatical to somehow learn and practice such skills, and then teach them to other community-minded individuals. . . Wu picked up the newspaper he had idly leafed through earlier, trying to find the ad he spotted earlier in the day. He found it, read it over twice to be sure. He nodded to himself. This was the right choice. He wound up the telephone, lifted the earpiece from the receiver, spoke in his most cultured voice, which coincidentally was his standard voice. “Hello, operator? Kindly connect me to Miss Elizabeth Hobbs, please.” [color=FFE8ED][center][h3]The Ether[/h3][/center][/color] [color=6A5ACD][u][b]Color Code:[/b][/u][/color]6A5ACD [color=6A5ACD][u][b]Theme Song:[/b][/u][/color] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uqgM26yCjok]Prelude to Cavalleria Rusticana[/url] [/hider] [hider=Header] [img]https://image.ibb.co/m2z6DV/Mr-Wu.jpg[/img] [/hider]