"WHU-!?" Jackie jerked awake to find herself sitting in a chair. No way... She coughs loudly, but the room, some sort of waiting room, is empty. The air is cool and dry and she's glad of the leather she's wearing over her denim jacket and cut off. She swiped it last night, from... Except she can't actually remember much about last night.<br/><br/>There seems to be a way out, but she tries the door, rattles it, kicks it hard with steel toe-capped boots. Nothing. "FUCK!" She swears at whoever put her in here. "FUCKIN' ARSE'OLES, WHOEVER TH' FUCK YOU ARE, LET ME TH' FUCK OUTTA HERE!"<br/><br/>Her accent is probably what the Americans would call "Cockney", but is actually from South London - Lewisham, to be precise although she's not been there in over five years. No answer is the stern reply....<br/><br/>She lookes around and sees a doorway the other side. "Oh well in for a fuckin' penny..." She mutters and strides across the room, landing a booted foot square on the middle of one of the doors, braced in case it doesn't open.<br/><br/>It slams open and Jackie practically falls through. managing to catch herself on the door frame to retain her dignity in the face of the two other girls who've just entered.<br/><br/>One says something and the other replies. Jackle can't help but snort in laughter, despite the situation. "'Gen'le folk'? Well shit, that's th' first fuckin' time I bin called that!"<br/><br/>Something catches her eye, movement in the centre of the room, a soft white whispy thing that as far as she's aware shouldn't be there. She steps towards it and slaps at it with her hand to see firstly, what it is, and secondly if she can get rid of it. Stuff like that bugs her, cos it shouldn't be. That's why she doesn't sample her own wares.