"Come on, Darling, hold together..." Seagreen eyes darted anxiously beneath bubblegum pink brows as the ominous rattling originating from Hell's Gate's engine room got progressively worse. The engine had frozen as the ship had drifted too far north under the less-than-stellar navigation of her maker, captain, and pilot, Jacee Allen. The young woman in question tugged her purple cap lower over her eyes and set her jaw in determination before manhandling the ever-temperamental steering. Any moment now, they should come to the port outpost of Vallen... Any moment,<span style="font-style: italic">Welcom to Vallen</span>would flash in the sky, beckoning her to land. Any. Moment. ...<br/><br/>"Bugger." Jacee pulled off her cap and ran a hand through the messy, almost spiky tangle of pink hair at her head and sighed. Her hair was always flyaway, sticking out at odd angles-- even the bits that she managed to wrestle into the long tail at the back of her head.<br/>"I've bloody well gone and done it again. Ah well." Hell's gate wouldn't last another second in the air; Jacee had no choice but to put her down at this dingy, decidedly shady, space station.  Despite the damage to her craft, she was able to land gracefully, and strode off her ship like she owned the place (rather, in typical Jacee Allen style).<br/><br/>"Pardon me, miss?"<br/>"Aye?"<br/>"We require that all ships sign in."<br/>"Aye," Jacee scribbled quickly on the paper: J.C. Allen, then began her hunt for a good, stiff drink.<br/>"W-wait, miss!"<br/>"What now?"<br/>"We must ask that signatures be in full names only, for our registrar."<br/>A vein ticked in Jacee's forehead, but she sighed and held out her hand for the pen anyway: James Corbutt Allen, Jr.<br/>"There. Happy?"<br/>"Yes! O-or, rather... I would be, but..."<br/>"But what, ye gammy hedge troll?" (That would be a garden gnome)<br/>"Only captains are permitted to-"<br/>"I AM THE BLOODY CAPTAIN," Jacee snapped, her already nonexistent fuse igniting.<br/>"B-b-but you've signed as-"<br/>"James Corbutt Allen bloody Junior. Aye. I know. That's my name."<br/>"But you're a-"<br/>"Woman. Aye. THIS is why I use the initials. May I go?"<br/>"Yes'm."<br/>"Bloody hell..."<br/><br/>It had taken her a considerable amount of time to stalk her way to the nearest tavern, during which time she heavily considered spending extra on a stiffer drink. She decided against it though, as Hell's Gate engine needed some loving, and parts didn't come cheap. She sighed grumpily, brooding over the drink she long since forgotten the name of. It smelled terrible, and tasted almost as bad, but had a delightful burn to it that was doing wonders to Jacee's senses. At least she'd sleep well tonight.