[center][h2][color=#FF9A26][b]Lilliana Merrycure[/b]
[sup][i][/i][/sup][/color][/h2][/center][hr]Once her punch was finished she brought a hand up to her cheek, a look of brief confusion on her face as she felt the slight wetness of a kiss left behind. The confusion became frustration in swift order, before it translated into a look of consternation as she tried to figure out the strange man before her.

[color=#FF9A26][b]“Um...”[/b][/color] she began, but words failed her as she floundered. She stuck a hand into her mechanic's bag and began  fiddling with stuff to slightly distract herself from the strangeness of what had just happened.

She was sorting her feelings.

[color=#FF9A26][b]“You know, it's not very polite to kiss a lady without her wanting you to.”[/b][/color] She said, huffing a bit, a small pout forming. She didn't like this man, he was selfish...and faster than her, which was a problem in its own way.

However, before she could say or do anything further the mast fell and her eyes widened. Just as the warrior got out of the way, so too did she, but she moved in the opposite direction and then dashed towards the cluster of cannon fodder and the man they were attacking. He seemed like a potential ally, and on top of that, it was the direction of the mechanism that controlled the rest of the ship's armor, which in its own way was also a problem.

She kept one hand in her mechanic's bag, messing around with scrap—with B-MO's assistance of course—and building [i]something[/i] as she was wont to do. Once she'd dealt with the armor she needed to get off of this ship.