As Abigail entered the bunkhouse, she split from Angeline and wandered to her (second hand, replaced and thankfully not-yet melted) sleeping bag. Her personal effects didn't amount to much; it's apparent that she either didn't have time to pack or didn't have anything of note to bring with her. The clothes were hand-me-downs from the VU alongside a few amenities and a little box of feminine products. She didn't often consider the nuances of fashion when she was picking out her clothes but always had a set of 'pyjamas' that amounted to an oversized pink T shirt with 'Towcester City' printed on the front and some tracksuit bottoms. True to her word, she stripped and got changed right there in the bunkhouse. This was not an unusual occurrence. However, it was apparent that Abigail had no intention of sleeping just yet. She looked exhausted, though - beyond exhausted, so tired that the tiredness plateaued into a constant state of surreal drunkenness. Her sunken eyes, erratic movements and idle scritching at her bandaged hands made her look more wretched than she had been before. Nevertheless, she stretched her gangly arms high into the air and mumbled some half-excuse of "I think I forgot summin' back in the washroom, so I'm just gonna-" “Not on your life- are you kidding me?” Abigail paused mid-stride, her foot still in the air. She looked at Brooks who had set aside his magazine enough to match her steely glare. "Fuck d'you mean 'no'?" She asked in a tone that made it apparent that she hadn't often heard that word before - at least, not used in with this amount of severity. “‘No’ as in ‘No, you idiot, you’re not going out’. No one is.” Brooks leant back into his chair again and opened up his magazine. It looked like he was waiting for the inevitable. Abigail took a second to process it then flapped her arm at the entrance to the store. "But the other feller let me out all the time!" She cried, outraged. No response was given. "You can't keep us in here all night, what if I gotta take a leak?!" She continued. Brooks was unflinching. He didn't even look up or respond to her and the lack of response was far more effective than wasting time trying to argue. "This is tyrannical, You ain't much better than the FOE!" Still nothing. Abigail was losing steam fast - like trying to punch down a brick wall. "Screw you," she muttered as her final jab at the unaffected bootlegger. Disheartened and trying her best to remain conscious, Abigail trapised a lap around the perimeter of the bunkhouse looking for something to do and, unfortunately, Zephyr just so happened to be in her immediate line of sight at that point. She tottered over. "Is it weird being the only feller in this bunk now?" She asked. "Do you feel all overwhelmed n' shit?"