[001] - video

[64th]

[ the feed comes on, revealing a very chilly Cashmere. Her nose is looking a little red, and she's trying very hard to act like the cold doesn't bother her. despite the smile plastered on her face, she's betrayed by her shivering and occasional sniffling. Cashmere is reluctantly wearing the cashmere (ha ha) sweater from her suitcase, though she's dropped her blanket cocoon for the purpose of this video. She's incredibly at-ease in front of a camera, and it shows. ]

Please tell me that someone has hot water. I'm willing to make a deal. [ she winks. take that as you will. ]

Also - has someone been in my room? I've left it a little disorganized [ trashed, whatever ] a few times and whenever I come back, everything's been put away. I wish I could say I appreciate it, but... [ it's freaking her out and she's trying to be nice by not telling the offender that she would rather smack herself than thank them. ] Maybe you can bring me another blanket if you're going to be stopping by?

Comments

[thatimpossiblegirl]

[Her offer to make a deal gets an eyebrow raise.

There was a time Clara might have flirted, before Danny, before a lot of things. And that wink would have been all the encouragement she needed. She doesn't feel much like flirting, now. For one, it's bloody cold. A lot like Christmas, Trenzalore. It had to have been at least as cold then, and she hadn't actually been wearing any clothes. She makes a face remembering it, scrunching up her nose a bit.]

Hotel thing? [Sounds reasonable. There are worse things than invisible maids, but she does wish she could catch them at it just once. Then maybe they could find out what's going on here.] Tryin' not to think about it.

[64th]

[ yeah, that's probably not the only raised eyebrow she's going to get. she knows how to get what she wants. this is just one of those ways. ]

So instead of fixing the heat they're picking up after me? [ it's just not normal. ] I can't stop thinking about it. How do they know when I leave? Who's doing it?

[thatimpossiblegirl]

[She gives a small shrug. She doesn't think the heat is actually broken, just cleverly designed to give whoever's watching them control.]

Housekeeping? Guessin' they don't want to be seen. Dunno why they're doing it.

[64th]

That doesn't bother you? The whole acting like they're not here but making my bed and, I assume, breakfast also?

[ BECAUSE IT BOTHERS HER. ]

[thatimpossiblegirl]

[Another shrug.]

No more than being taken hostage, probably by aliens, in a hotel, possibly anywhere, with a few dozen people I've never even met.

[64th]

Aliens???

[ she looks baffled. this will require explanation. ]

[thatimpossiblegirl]

You don't know aliens?

[Maybe she shouldn't have tossed that theory out there so casually. Good going, Clara.]

[64th]

Should I?

[ are aliens a group of people? just one person? no one else at the hotel has said anything to her about aliens. ]

[thatimpossiblegirl]

Little green men from space? [Okay. They actually mostly aren't green. Or little. And not all of them are men. She's probably really giving the wrong impression here.]

Different planets?

[She's guessing that's what this is anyway. Aliens seems like the logical answer. Maybe she's been with the Doctor too long.]

[64th]

[ Cashmere just stares back at her for a few moments, and then laughs. ]

Different planets? [ nice try, crazy lady. ] Right. Okay. We're on a different planet.

[thatimpossiblegirl]

[Well, that could have gone better. It also could have gone worse, she supposes.]

Could be. [Shrug.] Doesn't have to be aliens. They might be human.

[She waits a beat.]

You don't actually think we're on Earth, do you?

[64th]

Is not being on Earth an option?

[ she's heard some crazy shit but this takes the cake. ]

[thatimpossiblegirl]

Oh, definitely an option.

[64th]

Huh. [ she obviously needs a moment to process this. ] Weird.

[thatimpossiblegirl]

Guess so. Never really thought about it.

[Well maybe she has. But she doesn't think about it much anymore. It's not really something that comes up in conversation.]