#1920;au

[richardxoliverxmayhew]

Golden Days (Uni!AU)

( Closed starter for II @vxctorx )

Half a month since the beginning of term and Richard Oliver Mayhew was the furthest from feeling settled in. How could he? From the moment his reach-me-down boots touched the hollowed grounds of this university the young Scotsman was already branded as an outsider. At some point there were students, and even professors, who merely viewed his real name as nothing more than marginal. Oh, the phrases and childish nicknames they called him. He heard it all. Most commonly-- “Workhorse”.  It wasn’t entirely untrue. They warned him. They all warned him. Richard knew from the moment he applied to such a campus he’d be working like a trojan compared to the rest. Plowing through his grades, extracurriculars, and the dreaded socials just to gain a better life, whilst the others did it to leave a mark.  And thus, the dreaded label of, Workhorse. 

However, the prejudice and ostracization wasn’t so painfully transparent, at least initially, but even then Richard knew. He could tell. He could feel it in the way they would side eyed him whenever he marched by, or entered a room. From the first day he could feel their eyes, burning and bright, centered on him, as if he were a subject waiting to be dissected, or a blemish etched upon an almost-perfect constellation. ‘It’s only a matter of time’, he could hear them thinking. Richard especially felt it from one boy. Nothing about him particularly stood out, at least compared to the rest. Just as the others were, he was blonde, bright-eyed, had a clever and sheltered look to him. Princely. The sort of boy who was most likely delivered into this bleeding world polished and well-mannered. The Golden Boy. Richard had no idea what this student’s name was. All he knew was that the two of them took a number of classes together, and that whenever Richard were to walk by he and his posse he would always be there... Looking. Staring. Reading him like he were a well-thumbed novel. Even now, as the young Scotsman clutched his books close to his chest, he could feel the young blonde’s gaze. His pulse quickened. Every time he walked by this particular boy he always felt so... Seen. His guts twisted into knots. Richard loathed the feeling.-- No. He wouldn’t let Them get to him. Not today. The fingers curling round the books’ spines braced until they ached. He couldn’t be late for class.

[warrioroflondonbelow]

Starter for @a-kitten-with-claws​ II 20′s AU

Barely a soul littered the streets, maybe except for the occasional drunkard who’d stumble along the pavement, humming a tuneless song to himself. Still, despite being tired from work, Richard didn’t mind walking home during these wee hours of night. It was like a soft inhale before the breath, a rare and quiet moment. A time where Richard could collect his thoughts and be by himself, or so he thought. A breath hitched somewhere in his throat as his brows pinched together. He locked his door. He knew he had locked it this morning before he left because that’s what he always did. At this point locking his door was a habit that would die with him; so, why the hell was the thing open slightly ajar. With his hand pressed up against his back pocket, Richard popped the safety off of his revolved before creaking the door open just a tad more. “I know yer’ in there,” he called out to whoever may be hiding about in the shadows. “I’m gonna give ye’ to the count of three to show yer’self. I don’t want any trouble so I suggest ye’ comply.”

True enough, on his third count, Richard shifted into his darkened flat. A lone triangle of golden light was casted from the hallway and into the living room. Yet, even without the light Richard would’ve recognized Her silhouette from a mile away. “Miss Prince,” he let out a dry scoff, keeping his gun pointed ahead as he carefully drew closer. “It’s been... Wha’? Three months since we last clapped eyes on one another. The last time was, wha’? Back in tha’ speakeasy when ye’ slipped wha’ever the hell tha’ was into my drink. Thanks for tha’ by the way. I always admired a woman who could fix me up a stiff drink.-- So, wha’ do ye’ want? And how the hell did ye’ find my flat?”

[richardxoliverxmayhew]

For the manhandling meme: ♞

Manhandling symbol starters: ACCEPTING

II @vxctorx

♞ - physically pick my muse up and carry them

Another punch came hurtling Richard’s way. Then another. Then another. Then another. It was a perfect storm of bruised knuckles and blood, mainly the copper’s own. Yet, no matter how many times he fell over, Richard would always find himself spitting a glob of red upon the ground before wobbling back up. And why shouldn’t he? Richard was used to getting the receiving end of the stick in the form of either insults or physical blows, or both, but when it came to people talking shite about Vic? That was another thing altogether.  “Say tha’ again... I said say tha’ again ye’ fuckin’ cowards!” exclaimed Richard, before being punched down once again. This time a deep gash cut across his cheek and nose. “Look at tha’. The lil’ pup’s got more bite to it after all. It’s adorable, really,” scoffed one of the brutes.  He was just about to prop himself back up to start the self-torment all over again when, suddenly, he felt his body get plucked up off the ground. “Oi! Get off me! Let me go!” It was Victor. Of course, it was him. All Richard could do was writhe about and demand that the young lord let him go, all the while he remained hoisted above Vic’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Oi! Trevor! Next time, keep yer’ bloo’y guard dog on a lead, will ye’!” hissed the second brute, as the copper and the young lord marched off.

“Vic! Wha’ the hell was tha’ ‘bout!? I said I fuckin’ had him!” exclaimed Richard, his darkened gaze now trailed up at the other, once he felt Vic finally place him back onto the ground a good number of blocks away from the danger. “Just one more go and they woul’ve been out cold!”

[richardxoliverxmayhew]

( 1920s Closed Starter II @thecreaturesofglen )

Richard Mayhew, despite him being mainly within the weeds of his career as a rookie detective, had been sent to take on the cases of a good number of the station’s clients. A rich heiress, however? Now, that was certainly a first.  As Richard stood at the front of her enormous and rather gaudy estate, the Scotsman couldn’t help but try and smooth out his jacket, and try and fix his lopsided collar. He wasn’t often this fidgety when it came to clients, but Miss Alice Stanton certainly seemed like an important one for the books. She was an heiress after all! Who’s to say she wasn’t related to royalty, or something? The last thing he wanted was to make a bad impression.

Still, as Richard rang the front door’s bell, he couldn’t help but wonder... Who would want to target an heiress? Surely, if they wanted her money they would’ve robbed her by now, but murdering one of her guests during a lavished party? It might sound foolish coming from a copper but, as far as he was concerned, it was rather extreme.  Finally, the door swung open. Taking his flat cap off, Richard nodded his head respectfully. “Mornin’! I’m Detective Richard Oliver Mayhew. I was sent by Scotland Yard. I was informed tha’ a murder took place here last nigh’?”

[richardxoliverxmayhew]

( a lil’ 20s!Detective starter for II @throwxawayxthexkey​ )

“So, ye’ said ye’ had a case for me? Or at least somethin’ of interest. Don’t worry, wha’ever ye’ tell me will be for my ears only,” assured the copper, as he blew another puff from his ciggie. Now, it wasn’t like Richard Mayhew to accept anonymous calls from anonymous people, asking him to meet them at the nearby pub so that they can talk to him about a potential, under-the-table case. Would he get in trouble for doing so? Perhaps. However, the tug of his curiosity was stronger than most. “Also, remind me again why ye’ didn’t go to the station for this? Also... How did ye’ get my number?”

[richardxoliverxmayhew]

( Closed 20′s Verse Starter for II @xgoldxnhour )

It didn’t matter how tough the young detective’s week had been, how many papers he had filed, or how many bruises and black eyes he had managed to collect; tonight it was one black eye, unfortunately. All Richard Mayhew knew was that, at some point, he always found himself back at the same bar, and at the same seat, ordering the same drink, and chatting with the same familiar face. In fact, the young detective was not only quite fond of his routine, but he rather liked El’s company. Sitting at his usual seat and talking about his day, or his latest case, or anything really, made him feel oddly peaceful. “El, I promise ye’ it’s not as bad as it looks,” he smiled assuringly at the woman, as he tried to hide his black eye under the shadow of his flat cap. “Believe me, I’ve had a lot worse.”

[richardxoliverxmayhew]

writes on Richard's wrist: if lost, return to Victor Trevor

Grab a marker and write (or draw) something on my muse: ACCEPTING

II @vxctorx

When Richard left for the station that day he had no idea that he was walking around with Vic’s handwriting scribbled on his wrist. Others, however, certainly seemed to notice. 

It wasn’t until late at night that somebody was pounding against the front door of Vic’s manor. The image revealed, when the door finally swung open, was that of the large and lumbering, local pub owner holding the copper. One hand was gripping the scruff of Richard’s jacket, like he was nothing more than a scruffy, ill-tempered kitten, whilst the other held the copper’s wrist, to reveal Vic’s little message. “I believe this is yours, Lord Trevor,” tut the pub owner in a most unamused tone. Who could blame him? The only rookie copper in the pub and he basically causes a brawl to erupt. Thank god for Vic’s message.

[richardxoliverxmayhew]

( a lil’ 20s!Detective starter for II @xlostparadise )

“Woah, woah! How many times do I have to tell ye’, this is a crime scene,” grumbled Richard, as he trailed along behind the other, like a small dog yapping after a mailman. “Ye’ cannae’ just waltz in here. If it’s a stroll ye’ want, try the nearby park, but unless ye’ have some sorta important information tha’ can help us, I can’t let ye’ in here. Please don’t let me say it again.”