<div align="center"><strong>-=Bridget Hayes; character intro &amp; talking to Griff in the engine room - en route to Persephone=-</strong></div><br/>To some, the loud, constant booming hum of The Gamble's engine, was difficult to endure. To Hayes, it was peaceful, providing her with a sanctuary to escape from the drama that occasionally filled the rest of the ship. There was no denying that the crew were, at times, just like one big family. Like any family, there were arguments and fallouts and intrusions on personal boundaries.  So it came to be that Hayes often slept in the engine room, though not always by her own choice. Fact is, the spiral stairs down to her allocated bunk were a little difficult to navigate when under the influence. Or more specifically, a couple of shot treats of the bourbon variety. Her left hip still wore the large purple bruise of her last tumble down the steel steps just a handful of days ago, but naturally, she'd blamed someone else for her own drunken clumsiness. If asked again, no doubt she would still stubbornly accuse someone else of spilling liquid there for her to conveniently slip on.<br/><br/>But that bruise was the very least of her problems. Ever since taking the '101 mutt delivery' job to Jiangyin, the able mechanic had warned the Captain about the engine's Compression Coil. He'd shrugged it off of course. Hayes had come to very quickly learn that Griff wasn't the brightest spark when it came to mechanical technicalities. She also knew that sometimes actions spoke louder than words, and boy, did her engine know how to sing! Having touched down on Jiangyin, dropped off the dogs (all 100 of them) to one 'Eagle-Eye Sarafina' cattle rancher, and picked up a single cow in exchange, no matter how hard the pilots tried, the engine just wouldn't ignite. After her ranting, namely blaming both MeiMei and Vince with plenty of<em>“Ah told y'all not to turn the darn thing off!”</em>and<em>“now see what you's gone an' done!”</em>: Hayes finally chewed on a cigar instead, got down on her hands and knees, and did what she did best. The result? Well at least the engine had finally started up again, but that was also the night she managed to fall down the stairs.<em>Again.</em>Karma much?<br/><br/>One cow and a passenger later, and here she was again. Laying on her back, precariously arranged beneath vibrating wires and tubing, not to mention several tonnes of red hot metal. Generally, if she wasn't on her back, then she was on her knees, and no doubt the rest of the crew were used to seeing her in those positions for the majority of the time. Being an engineer was never glamorous, but that suited Hayes just fine, so long as she wasn't being confused for a janitor. So, it didn't seem to alarm her that, being halfway under the main engine, meant she would quite easily be crushed in seconds if something went wrong. Or at the very least, suffer harsh burns if she didn't move around carefully. On the contrary; any excuse to be working on the engine gave her a pleasing sense of belonging and purpose. Any excuse to be crawling through the mid-layer operations deck, was an added bonus. The sound of Griff's voice however, was less than pleasing. Mumbling curses that he probably wouldn't be able to hear from his position, she finally slid out from under the engine in one smooth, well practiced motion. Out came short, jet-black hair that seemed almost starched straight to poke in varying directions, and barely controlled by a red and white scarf tied at the front. The short fringe was the only section that stayed in place, but only thanks to the sticky sheen of perspiration coating her forehead. Pale skin seemed to attract general dirt and grime, today being no exception. Half the time, she didn't even realise where half the grease even came from, but neither did she really care. It might have been a bad day to wear a white vest, but her trusty, dark indigo slacks never failed to appear cleaner than they actually were.<br/><br/>Huffing a breath as she sat up, Hayes didn't answer the concerned captain straight away. Oh no; she took her sweet time about it. Of course, her mannerisms were the first, tell-tale sign. The way she reached for her almost empty pack of cigs, said<em>“you really wanna know?”</em>Then the way she lit up, followed by the arch of her narrow brows as steel-grey eyes tinted with pale asparagus looked up to Griff, pretty much said<em>“cos' I told you so.”</em>But finally, after that first, deep inhale, she exhaled with a smoky sigh. Thanks to chain smoking, pollutants and too much whiskey, in her almost thirty years of existence, Hayes had cultivated and maintained a husky, country drawl.<br/><br/>“Ah'll put it this way; this ol' gal's worn out. Heck, she's just 'bout runnin' like a Gurtsler ready ta kick. You try an' take off again without replacin' the Catalyzer, an' you're askin' for a good ol' humpin' like you ain't never been humped before! Y'all think that stint on Jiangyin was bad enough.... hah!”<br/><br/>She stood up then; slapping her palms on her spread thighs, and leaning forwards with the grace of... well, a man. Sliding out from the engine was where her feminine grace ended. Now, she rested one hand on the average but balanced curve of her hip. Her other hand brought the slim cig to her plain but pert pout again, while her eyes narrowed with that second, deep inhale. Hayes didn't expect the captain to understand her, but she was trying her best to talk dumb to him. Of course, she also knew that explaining mechanics was a lost cause, even when dumbed down.<br/><br/>“Now, she may not kick soon as she lands, but she'll kick alright. Jus' need that new Catalyzer... Trace Compression, B grade'll do. Yup. Compression Coil'll be all shiny 'gain in no time.”<br/><br/>The way she puffed on more smoke while eyeing the captain under those sharply curved brows, seemed to be asserting her own authority mixed with threats. Because if he didn't listen to her final warnings this time, then there was no way in hell she was getting back on the ship. Being stranded out in the middle of nowhere, especially with the brewing aftermath of the Miranda broadcast, wasn't exactly her idea of a good time.<br/>