Argent walked into the ballroom dressed in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, a book under one arm, his sleeping bag held in the other. The floor of the huge room was covered in sleeping bags, some people were actually already asleep he noted as he wove his way through the still forms and small groups who'd opted to stay up and talk. Once he found an unclaimed spot he laid out the sleeping bag, flopped down onto his sleeping bag, opened his book, a historical novel about the fall of Mountain Glenn, and began to read. He was asleep forty minutes later.