Due to various portal issues, Cara had gotten in late enough the night before that halfway to the hotel, she'd turned and headed for Cara Mason's converted warehouse loft (that also served as a secret lair) instead, and it was there that she now awoke, stretching luxuriously for the sake of the cameras as she pulled on a tasteful-yet-sexy (also expensive) nightshirt.

She settled in at her computer, going to the folders full of research on potential marks. She'd take this town for all it was worth, and this then... No, she wouldn't, couldn't think of that, not now. She had to keep her eyes on the prize and not get lost in memories of her mysterious, painful, and ill-defined past.

[Open, because what's the point of a secret lair if no-one knows where it is?]

Cara stood before the mirror, looking herself over. Her ruff was starched, her corset laced, her lace sleeves...also laced. A delicate looking feathered fan graced one hand, and jewelled rings the other. Her hair and make-up? Flawless.

It was time for the finishing touch. She carefully lowered the bedazzled tiara into place on top of her intricate up-do.

There. No one would believe that a fugitive princess on the run for mysterious and as yet unexplained reasons would ever dress in her full royal regalia. Which is exactly what made it the perfect disguise, and her secret would be safe...

...for now.

[Open. So very, very, open.]