plot swap: reveal Who: Sam A What: Swap Plot: reveal
It wasn't her bed that she woke in, but the unfamiliarity of the room (hotel room, it seemed, judging by the generic paintings and scratchy bed linens), didn't really alarm her at all. Nor did the fact that she had died. Perhaps that was something that she should have been alarmed over, because the memory of whatever it was that she had been stabbed with was certainly still there, but somehow, it just didn't bother her. She was alive and well now, after all, so why focus on something like that which didn't remain?
No, she was surprisingly good, and maybe that came with the good way her body had been treated while she was off gallivanting around in that wasted shell with the stringy blond hair. She was back in her own body, conservative clothes from the 1700s and all, and she didn't have much to complain about. The sex, after all, had been absolutely fantastic until he skewered her, though it wasn't quite as good as her 'husband', but she didn't really think many people could compare to him.
Not even that faded memory of a man she had once loved.
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and took only a cursory glance in the mirror before she went to the bathroom to attend to the sort of things a lady did in there. It didn't take that long as she didn't have a change of clothing to slip on into, but the hotel seemed nice enough to make sure her wallet had woken up with her. She'd go back home, back to Louisiana to her husband, but there was something she needed to do, first.
There were far too many looks given to her as she ventured out into the Marvel version of New York City just long enough to find a drug store. Her clothes were odd, she realized, but did they have to stare? Nevermind them, she told herself as she purchased several items at the little drug store, carried away in a flimsy plastic bag, back to the hotel that had the room she had woken up in.
It didn't take long to do what she needed to do, and as she sat there with her hair processing, soaking up the bleach, Chloe thought about what would happen after this. The change in her hair had been spontaneous, or as spontaneous as anything Chloe did, because she needed to look different. There were be new names, undoubtedly, and she wouldn't spend her time talking to that fool, Lin, any longer. No, there were people who were actually worth her time in these rooms they shared and wandered through, and she'd concentrate on them.
The bleach washed out, Chloe looked at her new appearance in the mirror, blond hair down to her shoulders, a strange thing to see with her face attached. She had always been dark, always, and she barely even recognized herself in the mirror. But perhaps that was a good thing considering. She towel dried her hair and used the hair dryer in the hotel room to get most of the moisture out, and then there wasn't much reason to stay behind.
She made her way back to the hotel, the one that liked messing with their lives so much, and back to her door, back to the familiarity of Louisiana and the servants (because she couldn't think of them as anything else), and above all, her husband. He might have scared her with what had happened to him recently, but he was, at least, familiar and on her side.
It took some assuring of her servants that everything was fine, she had just gone into town to have her hair done, and didn't it look nice?, and only then did Chloe spare a thought for the body she had walked in for a night. She had known who it was all along, a quick glance in a mirror had told her that, but the girl was older than she had remembered. Seemed drugs and a hard lifestyle did a number on that little thing. Well, that was in the past, and Chloe? She was just glad to be home.