The Bar at the End of the Universe

The morning's dreary and slightly overcast, so Gwendolyn is curled up in a chair, though the one furthest from the fire. In place of her usual poetry, she's reading a relatively modern book on Medieval History.

She's scowling quite a lot, and shaking her head. It's a good thing she's not really worried about her grade.

There's a dead girl at the bar. Yes, we mention this because it is an usual sort of dead. But it's not really important right now, so just pretend we didn't mention it, eh?

--Anyway, Gwen's at the bar, staring at the bottles longingly. She could order a drink, and add it to her ever-growing tab, but she much prefers having them bought for her.

Be a gentleman? Or a doll, she won't discriminate.

It's probably been far too long since Gwen's made an appearance, but as no one is clocking her every move, they'll likely not have noticed that she hasn't been eating either.

Or keeping up with her tab, but that's another matter entirely, and one she's decided not to worry about until she absolutely must.

In the meantime- she has returned to the bar, selected a booth, and settled in with her usual book of poetry (mostly because it's familiar and gives her a sort of purpose.) She's usually open to company though. Especially if they're buying a round or two.

Dead girl - by the fireplace, reading poetry.
Poetry - in a book, written in Provençal.
Provençal - spoken primarily in southern France, an old rarely used dialect of Occitan.
Occitan - ...Come interrupt before this entrance post continues.

Gwen seems to be studying again.
This time, at the bar, with a book of literature in what is now a rarely used language. To be more specific, the dialect called Provençal.

The pad of paper she's taking notes on is filling with writing of the same dialect. While the assignment would be accepted in English, she has quite a lot to make up to the professor.
Besides, it's not like this is any more of a challenge.

Feel free to distract her from her work. It's not due until she returns, after all.

The screaming, the heat, and the smell of burning flesh had all been left behind when she fled that place. It felt good at the time- felt right at first, but panic and conscience took over and she made an escape. Six hundred years of passion, anger, and lust for revenge- all emotions which were too strong for her to control had just landed her unsuspecting and lecherous professor in the hospital for some period time.
--- But she didn't kill him, she hopes, and all she knows now is that she needs to get away, to fight this thing that's happening to her. Heedless of where she's going, she runs, putting many blocks between Albright and herself.

When she stops, she finds herself on her school campus, half sick at what she's just done, she looks about for a crowded place, a distraction. The first building she comes to is a cafeteria- one she is familiar with. It would do for now.

---
The young student takes a deep breath before entering, calms herself, and steps inside, intent on blending into the crowd. But the crowd she finds on the other side of the door is not the one she was expecting. In fact, she does not recognize this place at all.

So, for a moment, she just stands in the doorway amazed. Well, if it's a distraction she's looking for... Maybe the food will be better at least.

Come greet the troubled and slightly unbalanced escapee from hell.