Abigail arrived considerably later than Lillith. She introduced her arrival by rather abruptly vaulting the fence with a practised, fluid motion; for someone with so many injuries, Abigail had long ago flaunted the her climbing skills were superior and didn’t feel like stopping just because everyone else was fed up of it. She was carrying an empty cereal box. In fact, when she landed she looked down at the box with surprise and a brief ‘oh-fuck’ moment that would’ve been suspicious if she didn’t immediately follow it up with “I ate all my fucking cheerios on the way here?!”

As per usual, Abigail was poorly dressed for the occasion - she didn’t have a swimsuit. Or, well, she did have one but she refused to wear it. The story goes that her uncle tried to teach her how to swim last year - went off to one of the deeper hot springs near the back of the hotel, the ones reserved specifically for the establishment. Legend says you could hear Abigail’s furious screeching from as far as the football stadium behind the high school. Unfortunately, this was long before Abigail had escaped from her little defensive shell that accompanied her from New Orleans, so Molly and Lillith had to rely on hearsay for such an early point in Abigail’s life here in Brimstone.

“You’ll have to excuse my lateness, I was” - on the other side of the town feeding a fugitive - ”trying to figure out what to wear this morning. Now where were [i]you[/i] last night, hmm?” Abigail jabbed a finger in Lillith’s direction accusingly. “Mind you, Lil, you didn’t miss much at all. Only two kids showed up!” Three, technically. “Scotty still had fun though...and I guess that’s what matters?” Abigail shrugged.

“Anyway, it was pretty dull. Now, since we’re only in the company of women here...and whichever vegetablised patients those nurses have turned towards the window...I hope you don’t mind if I get changed into my birthday suit.” It was more of a warning than a question because Abigail immediately started to strip. As mentioned before, Abigail’s pasty little body was covered in all sorts of shiny, pinkish scars from head to toe. What Lillith hasn’t seen before, however, was the roaring violet splotch that took up a solid quarter of her ribcage. Molly, unfortunately, had seen it once before; it stood out as the most concrete evidence that the events of yesterday were very much real. It wasn’t the only injury on her - she was once again adorned with those heavy duty, super sticky waterproof plasters that her uncle bought in bulk - but it was the most impressive one of the lot.

Abigail didn’t stop talking, even as she got changed. “I get why the hotel’s becoming a death’s doorstep for old people, but seriously? If I got that ill I’d hope someone would take me out back and shoot me. Better dead than useless, that’s what I think.” Abigail’s expression contorted into pain as she bent over to pull off her socks and shoes. “And I wouldn’t want the last thing I get to experience to be this godawful stench of lavender and shit, either.”

“Hey guys don'tletmEDROWN--!” Abigail cried as she leapt into the water, stark naked, and slid down to sit beside Molly. Her hair spread out like an oil slick; face half-submerged underwater, Abigail blew bubbles with her mouth contentedly.