Shadow's head and shoulders emerges from a hatch in the floor leading to the cannon control turret below, electrical grease on her hands and arms and a pair of wire crimpers in one hand and a tapir in the other, and a pair of goggles perched on her head. She stands only 5 foot 1, and a mere 105 lbs. Her hair was so dark brown that it seemed to be black, and her eyes an icy blue. She was wearing coveralls for the moment, a rare moment where she actually worked (We couldn't have our precious source of excitement (BOOM!) not working, now can we?).<br/><br/>"HEY! What's with the tapirs? They're chewing up the wires for the controls!" she angrily spewed as she tossed the tapir onto the floor. "This'll take me a half a day to fix!"<br/><br/>"I hate working..." she mutters.<br/><br/>She collected herself and took a breath, surveying the deck, and couldn't help but chuckle a little bit at crewmembers running this way and that chasing after tapirs, and was that talk of a paddle she heard? Watching the captain try to be stern with the rest of the crew was somewhat comical as well, and she had little respect for authority to begin with.<br/><br/>"Heh, Cap'n, I don't believe you'll get too far in that regard," she quipped as she rested her head on her hand, propping herself up with her elbow.<br/><br/>(http://i286.photobucket.com/albums/ll106/release879/1361968529392_zpsf97bdb7b.jpg)<br/><em>Shadow in her usual state, being lazy and doing exactly what she was NOT supposed to do.</em>