Floodwaters
Inactive Member
Cargo Bay
The mere act of curtly nodding back at Mitsuko made Sienna's headache flare up even more as she shuffled past her. She never bothered to take off her sunglasses, and even the thought of speaking made her feel like she would wretch. There were a few other people milling through the cargo bay as the ship's crew returned one by one to report back for duty, but she didn't bother acknowledging any more of them. What she wanted more than anything at that moment was to simply lie down and try to sleep off the agonizing remnants of her good time.
Cabin 6
Sienna was taking long, forcibly controlled breaths as she approached her cabin, in through her nose, out through her mouth, fighting back the nausea that was steadily creeping up on her the longer she walked. She winced as the cabin door whooshed closed behind her. The door wasn't very loud normally, of course, but her hypersensitivity to sound made it sound like an explosion behind her. She let go of her backpack and let it thud to the floor right there in front of the doorway, dragging her feet as she moved to her lower bunk. The wave of queasiness caught up with her, and she grabbed onto the edge of the mattress as she gagged and wretched, but thankfully nothing came up. There was nothing left in her stomach after this morning.
A few more dry heaves later, her pounding headache bringing tears to her eyes as she gasped noisily to catch her breath, the nausea was gone, at least temporarily. If she could get to sleep before it came back, she might feel better after she woke up. She rested her chin on the edge of the mattress and steadied her breathing, keeping her eyes closed, then tried to hoist herself into bed. Her first attempt failed, as did the second and third; the very act of moving or trying to stand up was torture. Finally she resigned herself to the floor and curled up next to the bunk, hugging her stomach. She couldn't imagine that there would be any reason for anyone to need her elsewhere on the ship for now. There would be plenty of time to rest.
The mere act of curtly nodding back at Mitsuko made Sienna's headache flare up even more as she shuffled past her. She never bothered to take off her sunglasses, and even the thought of speaking made her feel like she would wretch. There were a few other people milling through the cargo bay as the ship's crew returned one by one to report back for duty, but she didn't bother acknowledging any more of them. What she wanted more than anything at that moment was to simply lie down and try to sleep off the agonizing remnants of her good time.
Cabin 6
Sienna was taking long, forcibly controlled breaths as she approached her cabin, in through her nose, out through her mouth, fighting back the nausea that was steadily creeping up on her the longer she walked. She winced as the cabin door whooshed closed behind her. The door wasn't very loud normally, of course, but her hypersensitivity to sound made it sound like an explosion behind her. She let go of her backpack and let it thud to the floor right there in front of the doorway, dragging her feet as she moved to her lower bunk. The wave of queasiness caught up with her, and she grabbed onto the edge of the mattress as she gagged and wretched, but thankfully nothing came up. There was nothing left in her stomach after this morning.
A few more dry heaves later, her pounding headache bringing tears to her eyes as she gasped noisily to catch her breath, the nausea was gone, at least temporarily. If she could get to sleep before it came back, she might feel better after she woke up. She rested her chin on the edge of the mattress and steadied her breathing, keeping her eyes closed, then tried to hoist herself into bed. Her first attempt failed, as did the second and third; the very act of moving or trying to stand up was torture. Finally she resigned herself to the floor and curled up next to the bunk, hugging her stomach. She couldn't imagine that there would be any reason for anyone to need her elsewhere on the ship for now. There would be plenty of time to rest.