[after spending early doors with Crowley in the Death Match, early doors became evening and before Gene knew it, well to be fair he has no idea how late it's got, but it's midnight. And the Death Match is looking to close up for the night ( Read more... )

[Things are going a liiiitle bit too fast with Donna, but at the bottom of it all, he really does care for her and doesn't want to upset her. So, this is Gene, taking refuge with his BFF Johhny Walker in the Death Match and just kind of pretending it's not happening for the moment. Also: HIS POOR CAR! D:]

(ooc: I failed at tags yesterday - ( Read more... )

[have the recorded sounds of a very very pissed off Gene Hunt, initially it's mostly an incoherent string of expletives, not only has he gone and asked Donna to marry him (although he has to admit the subsequent shag and the bit where she... *ahem*... almost make up for that fact alone), when he decided to go out for a drive to clear his head, what ( Read more... )

[all recorded, because the mun is mean like that ( Read more... )

[afsjfgak! Fuck fuck fuck ...]It doesn't matter 'ow many drug dealing murderin' bastards I put away, it never makes up for me brother dying, and it doesn't matter 'ow many drunks or scumbags I beat the shit out of and convince meself that it makes me feel better, like I'm making a difference, I can't change the fact me Dad beat the shit of me Mum ( Read more... )

[Now that Gene has safely asserted that coronary threat brought on by lack of genitalia is no longer an issue, and he's slept off the considerable amount of whisky that enabled him to cope with trauma of such epic proportions; he's now sobering up from one helluva hangover with the hair of the dog in the considerably quieter than the Death Match ( Read more... )

[If Gene can't sleep, with his castle loss it only takes one swig of his hipflask and he's out like a light. Except, he's six swigs in now and not even remotely pissed.]

What the... [pause while he has a few more... then a few more...]THANK THE FUCKING LORD ALMIGHTY, SOME BASTARD THAT I COULD SHAG RIGHT NOW HAS DECIDED TO LET ME HAVE A DRINK ( Read more... )

[Gene's been B|ing at his 'ship's cabin' wall for about half an hour now. Suffice to say he's not impressed.]You're taking the ruddy piss now you bastard castle. First you give me sodding liver failure because you turned me into a bloody ponce for booze, then you bump me off for two weeks, then you show me frigging visions of me Dad from when I ( Read more... )

( Filter: Private )

[a string of incoherent expletives is being recorded in the delectable Alex Drake's voice as Gene jumps out of bed faster than the bloody Road Runner escaping a plummeting ACME anvil, knocking the journal for six in his wake as he makes a dart for the mirror. The vocab choice is not like Alex at all. She's usually all plums and p's and q's and ( Read more... )