(no subject)

[caecitas]

[Claudia's alert in her chair, posture impeccable. Her head tilts up, she grins, and she flexes her fingers.]

I'm flattered that you're taking such an interest in me, loverboy! It's good to know that I'm still special enough in that asylum you call a headspace that you take me out now and then--unlike all of those poor souls who're locked away. I suppose it's nepotism, isn't it? I'm your creation, after all. [Her arms go up, stretched above her head. She readjusts her position, sits on the chair crosslegged.]

Now, find me some playmates. Get my voice back. And then maybe you can finish that short story, hm?

[but if he writes any more, somebody's going to die--]

So? Everybody dies, loverboy! Tragedy, comedy, it all ends the same. Only difference is when you close the book.

Or so I hear. I'm not what you'd call a literary genius! [She cackles.]

Comments

[notpossible]

Completely mental, aren't they? 'Specially ours, I should think.

[caecitas]

Aren't they? You'd think that they'd learn one of these days.

[notpossible]

Who, them? Oh, that'd be the day!

And, really, who'd want that?

[caecitas]

Well, it would make our lives significantly less interesting! And I wouldn't have such fascinating company.

[notpossible]

I could say the same. [ Should she extend a hand? She does; she extends a hand. ] Clara Oswald, at your service.

[caecitas]

[She feels the change of air around her, the barely perceivable flow. Claudia reaches out, pauses, corrects herself, and takes the hand.] Claudia Brown!

[notpossible]

Lovely to meet you, Claudia Brown. [ She grins. ] Good to see loverboy over there's let you loose. He could use a bit of fun.

[caecitas]

Flirting becomes you well, Miss Oswald.