Batten Down the Hatches [Mature]

[Flamebird]

Okay, that hurt.

She felt like she had been slammed into by a cart full of lead. Moaning, she struggled to open her eyes as she felt... was that someone on top of her!

This trip just kept getting worse and worse. The weather was as good as Salvar could possibly get, and the crew seemed like a good lot. Unfortunately, their hired security guard was single handedly ruining the whole thing, and they were only in the first twenty four hours of sailing! She was beet red from the position they were in after he oh so rudely wrecked into her. She could tell, even in the dark, that his eyes were wandering too. He was heavy, very heavy, resting with a look of pleasure in his eyes as he tried to excuse this intimate position. Years of training, and an explosive instinct, had guided her in jamming her knee into where it hurts. Anger flooded her as he curled into the fetal position. Now, scrambling to get up, Felicity berated her harrasser.

"And stay off of me, pervert!" She pulled herself onto her feet, "Serves you right! Leave me alone, already!"

No need to warm up by exercising now. Despite wearing a light outfit in frigid weather, she felt intensely hot - to the point where taking a swim was tempting. The waters of this sea sounded gentle and cool against the ship after all. Still, the thought of swimming in the middle of a large body of water was proposterios. She knew better. She took several steps back, swearing to herself never to wear her bright yellow workout clothes in public again. She felt too exposed to a man child she already was wishing she had never met. So, she darted off. She needed to be as far away from this man as possible. She did not know his name, and she did not want to.

Eventually, she was back in her quarters with the door slammed shut and locked. Felicity was once again washing herself to lower her body temperature. Of course, she was pretty bruised up now too. That man was way taller than her and met her bulk with his own. That collision hurt. Quite contrary to the phrase second wind, the events above deck had brought exhaustion back to her. She had no idea what time it was, but she had a terrible sleep cycle so why did it matter? She changed into a loose fitting, long oversized shirt and let herself drift back to sleep in her cot.

Once again, harsh memories took over. Dreams of losing her loved ones, and of a trusted mentor turning into a monster. Moaning, whimpering, and shouting started to echo across the room, and the whole lower deck, as she twisted and turned in the prison of her past once again. Her PTSD had loosened its grip a little in Salvar, due to Felicity's obsession with getting home. Yet, the nightmares still attacked strong as ever, robbing her of much needed sleep. As she shed tears in her slumber, crying out with outstretched hands, mumbled words and pleas could be heard. At this rate, the entire crew could wake up to this racket.