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.

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? >>

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

"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