The sea always seemed more sinister when the waves barely moved. No breeze was permeating the air, and an oppressive humidity engulfed the ship.Thomas felt beads of sweat tickling his forehead, trickling down his cheeks and making his collar uncomfortably damp.He set his mop aside, pulling for the umpteenth time at the pesky material. Some of the older men discarded their ragged shirts, wandering about with leathery, scarred skin and faded tattoos on display for all to see. Thomas, despite his paler skin being free from marks save for a small scar across his back, refused to do that. It just seemed unseemly. Besides, he knew they'd taunt him.Robinson, a middle-aged, balding man with breasts like a woman, would be the worst. The man was an utter slob and made no effort to curb his bad habits, using that zeal to point out everything that was 'wrong' or different about others.Right now, he was snoring in the shade, drool gathering on his cracked lips and a discarded bottle rolling
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