IC: On the pull <OPEN TAG>

Who: Guinevere Winters and other nameless patrons.
Where: Parrotts bar of course.
When: Since when has the clock on the wall ever told the right time
in a bar.
Guinevere was sitting in Parrotts drinking, she had given up on
using a glass and had made the bar keep leave the bottle of Jim with
her.
She sat there abnormally quiet, drinking slowly and watching those
around her. She was not drunk but she was not sober.
Guinevere was in Parrotts and not at her workstation because she was
not quite sure where she was meant to be. The ship had gone through
some sort of time thingy that she did not understand, (she was an
engineer after all, not a scientist … she knew how to fix the
machine they used but did not know exactly what it did).
Guinevere did not know if she was coming or going, as she was unsure
of the time period they were now in when they went back.
Was she already a member of Blue Dwarf in this time period? She
could have been, as they did not go back very far. Did this mean
there was another her walking around on the ship or about to arrive?
All these questions did her head in.
She took another sip from the bottle, she knew that she should
report to her head of department to see what was needed of her but
she wasn't even sure who that was at the moment … Was it still
Callum? Or had they gone back far enough that McJohn (ooc: I hope
that was his name.) was still alive and still in charge?
She had come to Blue Dwarf to escape the deaths of her brother's,
albeit only one of them was recent and yet she found herself even
more emotionally confused on board this vessel.
Had they gone back far enough that her brother Chris was still
alive? The question had been haunting Guinevere since she realised
what had happened and was the reason why she was drowning her
sorrows in Parrotts bar. Her parents had told her to never meddle
with the past or the future were she to ever time travel and
although Guinevere never listened to them about anything else in her
life, she knew this was advice she could not ignore. Still her heart
pulled at her, how could she sit there doing nothing?
Guinevere needed to do something, something to take her mind off her
thoughts, emotions and memories … drinking was not working, she
needed to get the blood pumping. Sex or a fight, either would do her
good, she skulled a bit more of the alcohol and stood up, leaving
the bottle with the bar keep with an unspoken agreement that it was
now hers she left the bar and headed off to see which blood pumping
activity would present itself first.
OPEN TAG
~Jenni