The cramped quarters felt smaller with each agitated step Jimmy took. Back and forth, back and forth, her boots thudding a muted rhythm against the metal floor. Her hands were clenched so tight her knuckles shone white, the frustration a palpable thing radiating off her like heat. She spun, the movement sharp, and caught her reflection in the small, dented mirror hanging on the wall. Her own image stared back - a slender woman with a wild mane of dark curls streaked with defiant silver, eyes that held a perpetual wariness, and the faint, ghostly scar that kissed the corner of her lip. For a long moment, she just stood there, the simmering anger finally bubbling to the surface. Resentment, years in the making, twisted her features. Then, with a snarl of pure fury, she swung her hand and slammed the mirror around, leaving only the dull metal back staring at the empty room.

(Jamie's nickname and preferred name is Jimmy due to it being given to her by curly when she first admitted to being gender neutral with a slight leaning towards masculine and because it was the first time someone accepted her without issue)