(Right, fixed that.)<br/><br/>Trinity sat on the rail of the ship, not too far from the collaberating group. Her hair was fluttering wildly in the breeze, and her hands were stuffed in the pockets of her crimson greatcoat. As she examined the group on the beach, she couldn't help but feel naked without her wires on hand, even though she could handle herself just fine in her current state. Her modified hair was an acceptable substitute, but lacked the raw effectiveness and versatility of the real thing. As the boat closed in on the beach, she slipped off the rail, her sickle like claws clicking on the deck as she landed.