Enough oddness trickled through her carefully built and hidden network to draw her attention to this place. It sounded like the kind of place that would draw the Doctor's attention, so she needed to be there first. There, and so established as to seem part of the furnishings. Someone that whoever was left behind here would know well enough to confide in. That was always the hard part. Getting to know the people before the Doctor did. It took some guessing, and a whole lot of following the news. Because where she traveled in order, he didn't. And sometimes the whispers were enough to know when he'd brought someone to the past, so that she could get a glimpse of them, and enough information to find them before he did. Sometimes it only got her a place where he might show up.
Rather like a predator stalking a watering hole. Given the nature of this particular place, she found the analogy... apt.
So she studied the local fashions for the area, and dressed herself to suit. Just enough different that someone might be interested in talking to her, just enough the same to blend in seamlessly. And just enough confidence to convince people that despite being a woman on her own she was not a target to be messed with.
Her blouse was pale brown and buttoned up right to her neck, with a tight necklace over. Nothing flashy or expensive looking. More a statement that she wasn't the sort to loosen her button or her stance. Her skirt was a richer brown and went to midcalf to hide the short pants she wore under. One never knew when they might have to run... or might need a quick change. It was amazing how easy it was to confuse pursuit by a simple change from skirt to shorts, a missing necklace, a single open button, and a missing hat. Her shoes were plain and flat, more for comfort than style.
All her style was in the hat.
The hat was somewhat floppy of brim and dipped down, shadowing her eyes and utterly hiding the hair that was braided and pinned about the crown of her head. There was a small pocket watch, without a cover, inset unto the decorations on the broad band, all but hidden under the feather and clearly fake jewels. The feathers were a nice angry grey. She had learned the password, of course, and had come with just enough money in her small purse to prove herself as belonging among the elite, but not enough to arouse suspicions as to where she got it. She also carried what looked like a closed parasol. The tip was sharp enough to punch through a shoe, though it didn't look it, slightly scuffed and dusty. And it didn't actually open. It served as storage when she needed to ditch the hat, skirt, and even purse. Without the hinged arms that made it open and close, there was just enough space.
So she went through the song and dance required for entrance, then helped herself to an empty small table against a wall, preferably in a corner, where she could watch the room as she sipped her drink, watching the door subtly. Just another people watcher looking for an interesting place to drink... nothing to see here...
Hope I am getting the fashion correct...
Rather like a predator stalking a watering hole. Given the nature of this particular place, she found the analogy... apt.
So she studied the local fashions for the area, and dressed herself to suit. Just enough different that someone might be interested in talking to her, just enough the same to blend in seamlessly. And just enough confidence to convince people that despite being a woman on her own she was not a target to be messed with.
Her blouse was pale brown and buttoned up right to her neck, with a tight necklace over. Nothing flashy or expensive looking. More a statement that she wasn't the sort to loosen her button or her stance. Her skirt was a richer brown and went to midcalf to hide the short pants she wore under. One never knew when they might have to run... or might need a quick change. It was amazing how easy it was to confuse pursuit by a simple change from skirt to shorts, a missing necklace, a single open button, and a missing hat. Her shoes were plain and flat, more for comfort than style.
All her style was in the hat.
The hat was somewhat floppy of brim and dipped down, shadowing her eyes and utterly hiding the hair that was braided and pinned about the crown of her head. There was a small pocket watch, without a cover, inset unto the decorations on the broad band, all but hidden under the feather and clearly fake jewels. The feathers were a nice angry grey. She had learned the password, of course, and had come with just enough money in her small purse to prove herself as belonging among the elite, but not enough to arouse suspicions as to where she got it. She also carried what looked like a closed parasol. The tip was sharp enough to punch through a shoe, though it didn't look it, slightly scuffed and dusty. And it didn't actually open. It served as storage when she needed to ditch the hat, skirt, and even purse. Without the hinged arms that made it open and close, there was just enough space.
So she went through the song and dance required for entrance, then helped herself to an empty small table against a wall, preferably in a corner, where she could watch the room as she sipped her drink, watching the door subtly. Just another people watcher looking for an interesting place to drink... nothing to see here...