ABOVE DECKS
It's been a long time since she'd been on a ship. For all England was a naval power, her concerns had been in back streets, whorehouses and working stations. It wasn't since a desperate fleeing from - now Pakistan, so Kaji called it - to Portugal and across the sea to England's miserable chalky coasts, that she had walked the deck of anything... that she hadn't been in the process of burning down. But United India ships and docks notwithstanding...

But she had no reason to skulk, here. The veils settled over her, she spends her time talking at length with the deck hands on the ins and outs of ballistas - old but still usable to her mind. After all - had not the great Shivaji I taken down armies with such things? Not to say of Alexander the Great or the Chinese unifiers that she had been told tales of? To that, there is a comfort. Weapons and weaponry. Trading a reputation she builds on steady action to fill an emptiness she has not stopped to weigh in on since it had happened.

Shinji had no interest in such weapons.

Best not to linger on, so after she's shown, she settles into the work she is comfortable with. Tying off ropes when prompted, hooking off the spare tie off rope by hooking it against her thumb and forefinger and around the bottom of her elbow. Old habits at least, least of which from the sea. Wrapping it over and over again. Until she begins to get towards the end of it and she indicates with a flick of her hand, careful to speak instead of think for the sake of the close quarters with outsiders they were in - "Grab that, would you?"

HEAVE TO
Calm until it isn't, and when the call comes, when the boat shudders and rocks, the roar of the beast and her mind ripples with not an overwhelming fear - but rather, more than anything, a well-worn fear. Of facing something big enough to swallow her whole, big enough to rip her to pieces, and knowing it too can be killed. It seizes her in her limbs, as she feels the ship pitch, hears the excited cries of the men, and symbiote or not, that to her settles more infectious and full in her all her limb.

( "Secure that line! It's got to hold or it'll escape us!" )

And for her part, she snatches at the ballista now unmanned from the men being thrown everywhere. Nothing that ought to be wielded with easy but she sinks inch something clawing and heavy that she draws up and up into her hands, her arms, where muscles lock, shoulders tense and roll back as she shifts the entire thing in deep heaving breaths. Feet pressing in heel down, knees bent and she takes aim as best she can.

( "Reload! Now!" )

The roar of it all is deafening, from outside - the cry of the men, the beast as it crashes down into the water - the shout of her mind and orders - knows how to pitch it, a note thats deep and booming out of her lungs and her mind all at once - but she lives in it, down to the last second. Whole body snapped to one purpose and action:Hold, Hold, Hold.

OVERBOARD
Small mercies is growing up on the edge of the Ganges with a father that never knew how to do instil a ladylike instinct in a daughter more keen to bows and arrows than bows and ribbons that when she sees men go over or another member of the hive, she goes straight after them. Struggling under the weight of bits of timber, or just desperately trying to dodge the Garstall's twisting and turning under the water. As likely to crush and bite in its attempts to free itself it seemed, as was any creature.

The dive isn't elegant, but it does clear her of any nearby mess in the water as she reaches for whoever might be closest to her, hauling them up out of the water:

a ) it's another hive member she's saving, kicking her way through the water, looking through the blur of salt water, reaching out desperately. ( Reach for me.) Her hand looking for anoter's and desperately pulling with that tremendous strength. Until she can get an arm around the chest to hook and swim them both up to the surface.

b ) It's another member of the crew, and she drags them up with her back towards the deck. Feeling them limp in her arms and hauled them out of the water. ( "Grab them, by the shoulders. Quickly!" )

Her patience wasn't her best trait, not by far.

CUTTING IT OFF AT THE HEAD
The whole damn thing doesn't need to fit on the deck.

Just the head.

Just for long enough to kill it.

She grapples with the ropes as they go sliding as crew in turn grabs and loses control of the creature as it does its best to hold off its death and maybe it was cruel - hunting like this - but it wasn't like it hadn't taken its fair amount in return. A smashed shipped, however many drowned men - it was too late to stop now, it would gladly take them down with it.

Couldn't fault it for that.

Just the same as she didn't have the space for mercy and if that mouth didn't get closed and now they were going to have a problem. One she can at least do what she can about with some help.

It's reckless, and it's stupid, but she's got enough to scars to say that she's marvellous at doing both those with great abandon - snatching up a harpoon in her off hand and using the rigging as a climbing point, the other end she mimics her orders of before though now there's a clipped urgency to it. ( "Get ready to hold onto it." )

The shape of her plan is easy - that harpoon is going through that creature's jaw and using it to anchor it straight to the deck.

A JOB WELL DONE ( OPEN + KAJI, RUST, MISATO ?? )
When it's over, she doesn't join in the cutting of the meat, - that was definitely better left to the experts, but she certainly joins in the festivities otherwise. More at home amongst soldiers as sailors, rather opposite to the demeanour she keeps around most. She settles into them with ease, joking comfortably, her tone broad, whole, the thrill of a battle well fought. Trading stories in an easy group with them, though some details she changes for the sake of their cover.

But at least for those of the hive when it is her turn to tell a tale, there's a flicker of snarling teeth that begets the experience she speaks of. The hot eyes in the dark, and the wet warm breath on her skin. Visceral and exhilarating in the fight. Merciless in how she took.

Still, easy to get her attention in the warm afternoon sun, a tap, and she hums with the turn - Yes?