GREG LESTRADE
"Its a drug's bust…"
Nickname/s: Greg
Age: Around mid 40s
Sexuality: Male
Occupation: Detective inspector at Scotland Yard.
Accommodation: New Scotland Yard
Personality: Greg respects Sherlock, however, he gets easily frustrated at the cryptic messages Sherlock uses when analyzing a crime scene. Most of the time, he is a stressed man, too many cases on his hands and on top of that, trying to get his team or Sherlock to co-operate with his team, especially Anderson.
Even so, on hard cases, he will often go to Sherlock for help. He is friends with John Watson, unlike Sherlock, who doesn't even know his first name. Greg is known for being on the sarcastic side of things, especially to reporters.
Other Attributes/Skills: Best that Scotland's Yard has to offer, handy with a gun, good driver.
History: Not much is known about the modern portrayal of Lestrade, apart from his name has French links, although not French himself. He always, from a young age, wanted to be a detective, solving crimes and arresting criminals, for instance Moriarty, but always got out smarted by a certain consulting detective he met five years ago. He recently got a divorce from his wife, no longer keeping the ring.
RP Example:
Lestrade jogged up the stairs of the escalator, he had arrived from a recent crime scene, flocked by numerous of reporters, all queuing up to be the next in line to know what had happened.
Few minutes later...He had popped into a nearby pub to get a pint of beer, it wasn't that he was an alcoholic, he wanted to catch the football match that was on, he had missed over half of the game…he leant against the wooden bar, ordered his pint and slowly sipped it, mesmerized by the match.
The TV started to fuzz and fade, a familiar head was showed on screen and slowly, he felt his jaw drop.
But he was dead! Sherlock had told me he was dead! Many of the pub goers had no clue what was happening, but he was too surprised to do anything. He held the glass in one had, knuckles turning white.
"Can't be possible…"
He wanted to leave, he needed Sherlock…Did no one actually die on that rooftop?
His body was frozen in place, his brain telling him to go, what on Earth was going on?!
"Miss me? Miss me?" Moriarty. The voice was changed but he was sure that it was Moriarty, 150% certain.
OOC Name: Maya
How did you find us: Google is wonderful.
