1983:

DI Alex Drake can be reached at Fenchurch East CID in London:

01 9461017 Ext. 1547

If I am unavailable, please leave a detailed message with WPC Granger.


2008:

You have reached the mailbox of Detective Inspector Alex Drake. Please leave a message after the tone.



{{please leave any messages for Alex or her mun if you need to reach us!}}

It had been a slow day, so when Shaz rushed into CID alight with the news that someone was threatening to jump off the building across the street from the Met, Alex's heart jumped ever so slightly with excitement.

Shoving Sam Tyler's file into her desk (she had been blankly staring at it for over an hour), Alex grabbed her blazer and made a beeline for the door. She had been preoccupied - not even by Sam, so much, as thoughts about Jack Harkness. Jack bloody Harkness and his disappearing act. Alex had never had anyone disappear straight from her arms before; timing aside, she had started to honestly wonder how far gone she really was. She had enjoyed her short time with him, but now she was left, again, with a bunch of unanswered questions and ghostly figures and a life that didn't make sense anymore.

"Oy, Bolly, that's not CID business," Gene Hunt barked from his office, glowering at her in his special way from behind the desk as she approached the door.

"They'll need a negotiator," she argued. "Someone to talk him down. You know I'm more qualified than anyone else in the building."

He grunted. Alex, luckily, was fluent in the grunting language of lardy fascists and understood it meant "Fine, do what you want."

So she slipped out the door and made her way to the street, heading towards the congregation of coppers who stood, staring up at the roof with blank and helpless looks on their faces. She peered along with them at the figure, able to only just make out his features in the glaring sunlight of the fading day.

As recognition hit her, Alex Drake realized her boring day was about to get a lot more interesting.

{{This is absolute, shameless, utter fluff written for havinhoops, but it's also dedicated to takeoffthenoose and sureshotshaz for being the best team a time-traveling copper in a coma could ask for.

HUGE spoilers for the finale of Ashes to Ashes, so I've cut the whole fic. Seriously, don't read this until you've seen the finale, it'll spoil everything for you.}}

( But, in the end, what she got was exactly what she hadn't expected. )


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Cut for spoilers for the series finale of Ashes to Ashes and shameless fluff.
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Muse: Alex Drake (featuring Gene Hunt), Ashes to Ashes
Prompt: None, just a wee post-finale fic
Verse: Open and canon verses
Word Count: 2208

Last year, I told havinhoops that I felt like Bruce Springsteen songs defined Alex and Gene's tumultuous relationship. I don't think she took me seriously, so in celebration of the final episode of Ashes to Ashes tomorrow evening, I made this mix.

Minor spoilers up to 3x07, including quotes.

So, without further ado...


( Tonight, Faith Just Ain't Enough: A Gene Hunt/Alex Drake Fanmix )

INSTANT L♡VE

— v 3.0

<< come play? >>

{{This fic was inspired by RP events at crowdedhour. Basically, in that game, Alex and Chris were taken by a serial killer/vampire, who tortured and killed Alex in front of Chris and then, subsequently, tortured Chris horribly and killed him, too. Although they were eventually resurrected, they still remember the events and this fic stemmed from that.

takeoffthenoose is used with hesitant permission, and I apologize for any potential slaughter of his characterization. All events are non-binding to muses involved.}}


Sometimes at night he still hears her screaming.

She's been haunting the halls like a ghost, he thinks, and Chris would be more proud of the further development of his inner poet if it hadn't come with such a cost. At night, Shaz cradled in his arms, he hears the click of heels past his room and towards the kitchen. He doesn't have any idea what she's doing wandering about at ungodly hours; drinking, or shagging, or doing whatever it was birds do when they're trying to feel like they're not dead anymore.

He tries to sleep, and just as he drifts off to that comforting darkness is when he hears her screaming. He's not daft enough to think it's real, of course; she's fine and Shaz doesn't hear it, and he knows Shaz doesn't because when he stiffens and sits up, sweating in the dark, she looks at him like he's gone mad. He knows it scares the piss out of her, but he doesn't know a think to say to make it better. Because he thinks he has gone mad, and he thinks even after they get out of this godawful place – if they ever get out – Shaz will probably always look at him like he's stranger.

He's sure that's because he isn't who he was. When he looks in the mirror he feels like he's looking down at a stiff in the morgue. ( Alex Drake haunts the halls of the castle, and Chris Skelton just haunts himself. )


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Cut for length and graphic sexual situations.
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Muse: Alex Drake (featuring Chris Skelton), Ashes to Ashes
Prompt: None, inspired by OOC conversations
Verse: And open verse based after the events in this thread (WARNING: Thread depicts scenes of graphic violence and torture.
Word Count: 17198

Alex has had a year to develop CR in her games, so I decided I might as well write them out!

( Crowded Hour )


( Reality Shifted )

As of April 13th, I've been playing Alex for a year! Considering how quickly I picked her up, the fact that she's still going and, at the moment, is my strongest muse is really, really awesome.

So, I wanted to thank all you awesome people I play with. If it weren't for you, she wouldn't be the same. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be the same. You guys rock and I hope for many more years of friendship and playing with all of you and the wacky Lady Bols.

In closing... Here's all my icons of Alex drinking. It seems appropriate.



&hearts

As requested by pi_sparrow, here's a Sally Sparrow/Alex Drake inspired EP. It takes place in our Time Will Crawl 'verse, in which Sally ends up in 1982 and ends up working for CID as a crime scene photographer and sharing Alex's flat.

All of the songs are, of course, from the 1980s, save the last song which was released in 1973.

The .rar file at the bottom includes all five songs and the album art.





( birds of a feather: a drake and sparrow fanmix )

"Come on, ladies... let's go get pissed!"

Had a rough day at work? Those criminals getting you down? The radio updating you on the state of your coma again?

It sounds like your muse needs a place to sit down, unwind, and take their mind off things. And there's only one place for that.

The pub, of course.


takeoffthenoose and I put our insane minds together and decided what the LoM/A2A RP community needs is, well, it's own dressing room community. So if you have an LoM or A2A muse, and whether you play them ten times a week or ten times year, mosey on over and have some fun with us at on_the_piss!

It's brand new, so feel free to spread the word to any other muns you know. &hearts

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He keeps bloody well enough in touch to send our twelve year old a mobile phone for her birthday. What kind of twelve year old needs a mobile? Not ours, and he'd know that if he was the parent who dropped her off and picked her up at every shop, every school function, every bloody thing she's done for the past eleven and a half year whilst he's been off waltzing about with near-teenagers revisiting his youth or being an artist or whatever the hell it is he's doing this week.

How's that novel going, by the way, Pete? Yeah, you know that one. The one that doesn't bloody exist?

By the way, I had no idea he named her after a cat.

Little shit.





{{So, I've been reminded since this went up that it was Evan who gave Molly the blackberry, not Pete. But instead of editing it I'm just gonna leave it. Cos it makes me laugh.}}