[center][h2][color=#FF9A26][b]Lilliana Merrycure[/b]
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Reaching the fallen mast, Lilliana hopped over it, spinning to see Crabbe floor Saban...and then be promptly grabbed and crushed. Even knowing they'd been enemies, she winced at each horrible [i]crack[/i]. When he hit the ground she barely managed to suppress the incredible urge to heal him. She had to focus, Saban first, and then she could give him a syringe. Watching him grab up various detritus, she yelled out, [color=#FF9A26][b]“Take cover!”[/b][/color]

At the same time she ducked behind the fallen mast, taking shelter. B-MO continued to help her tinker. They needed something to take down this beast, but how?

Once the hail of improvised grapeshot had run its course, she poked her head up, even as B-MO extracted what appeared to be a highly modified grappling hook. It sparked with electricity, little bolts arcing to hit anything metal nearby. It looked like a combination of her anti-cannon launcher and her grappling hook. The “hook” had nine “claws” on it, each in a grouping of three. The device was designed to shoot them separately, but it could shoot them all at once too. Glancing at the wrench-man, and the rest of her crew, Lilliana knew that there was no way she could pull this off on her own.

Thus, she pushed herself to action, dashing at top speed, B-MO forming protective armor that was somewhat thicker on whatever part of her was nearest Saban—though she gave him a decent berth so she might have time to react. Whenever she got near someone she would speak, telling them to hamper and distract Saban to the best of their ability.

She kept her weapon ready, holding the heavy implement in the hand furthest from Saban. She held it with ease, though it looked several times heavier than her frame would imply she could handle. It was a good thing that looks could be deceiving.

Taking a risk, as she noted the cannons on the Rum Runner being positioned, she launched into action.

Hoping that the others would have her back, she jumped upwards, throwing herself 20 feet into the air towards the second, smaller, mast. It was 40 feet from Saban, but that was fine, it didn't need to be close. Using one of her metallic claws she hooked into the mast and then continued upwards until she was at the top.

She turned towards Saban from the top, crouched, liquid metal flowing over her legs, increasing their power, before she kicked off. The top of the mast was blasted to pieces by the force of her movement and she was rocketed upwards and in Saban's direction. B-MO refocused around her as armor, she aimed her Grappling Cannon, and fired the first shot from above and behind Saban. It was aimed to strike, and pierce, his arm, the weight and momentum enough to have it slam downwards and dig into the deck even after hitting—if it hit.

Her arc continued in the air, passing her over Saban, and she fired the second hook. She was aiming for Saban's arm, but the wind threw off the attack somewhat, sending it past the front of his body—if he didn't dodge—and instead heading right for his upper leg, where it would hopefully do much the same as it had to the arm.

She fired the third shot at the top of the Rum Runner's mast, and then reeled that one in, activating the electrical generator in the weapon in the same moment.

Powerful volts of electricity channeled through the metal wires and to the grappling hooks—hopefully--lodged in Saban's flesh.

If it worked she'd grin widely, marveling at her own [i]shocking[/i] genius as she landed on the side of the Rum Runner's mast, hooking a claw into the wood as the hook detached. Hopefully her nakama could take care of the rest.