Zoe didn't spend every moment in front of the idiot box. She couldn't let herself drown in her own self-pitying, that never got anyone anywhere. She'd started making the rounds, looking for escape routes as much as weapons. Sure, they weren't allowed to have weapons, but she knew how to make do. She'd spotted at least one janitorial cart with the right chemicals for a nice stink bomb. Or poison, depending on how it was handled. While she'd killed in the past, she didn't know who would become part of the problem or the solution, so she had to work out a distraction that would harm the fewest people.
The warrior woman never settled in one spot long when she was thinking, working out the plan, and she did her best to make sure nothing became routine. Of course, the staff liked to keep the patients on some sort of routine, which meant Zoe had to work a little harder to achieve randomness. Who knew it could be so difficult? The act of it actually helped clear her mind. This was a war for her sanity and her freedom, actually for many people's freedom if she were to make a guess.
So, she'd opted out of television watching to get some fresh air. Or as fresh as the closed in space allowed. She got to see the sky, which helped. She was meant to be in space, even if only for short runs. She hadn't been out in the Black for some time. Her eyes were lifted skyward when the man sat down.
"Smart idea. Bringing food out here." She didn't look too strange in the patient scrubs, but she didn't look overly comfortable either. Maybe if she'd had a sidearm? The leather tie around her neck was probably against regulation, but somehow she always got it back. It was one of the few things the staff had stopped fighting with her about; it took too much of their energy.