Clara Oswald, Renaissance Italy

Clara wandered the street, uncertain. Honestly, sometimes her head could be a little foggy if she tried to focus too hard on the past, but that didn't really matter. She needed to eat, which meant getting a few florins.

She walked through the marketplace, idly glancing from side to side. Maybe someone would need a servant, or another pair of hands, or-

"Well hello, my dear," a woman suddenly said behind her. "Don't you look... hm, now where are you going?"

Clara turned, to see a dark haired woman standing a little way behind her. Her clothes were dark, fashion slightly strange, but then Clara had seen a few odd people around as it was. The woman was eyeing her curiously, gaze flickering up and down.

"Um, hello?" Clara said. "I was looking for work. Are you..."

At a guess, the woman probably had some measure of wealth. At any rate her clothing was well put-together, giving some impression of class.

"Perhaps," the woman said. "What's your name?"

"Clara," she said.

"Is it now?" the woman said. She smiled. "Mine is... Maestri. I'm, ooh, an artist. Ever considered a career in modelling?"

An artist? Well that would explain the slightly odd fashion choices, Clara supposed. There were a fair few artists around and most seemed to be odd in some respect. Clara raised her eyebrows.

Being a model wasn't a career she'd expected, but then again it would get her something, and would hopefully be easier than going out to the fields.

"It's... not something I've thought about," Clara said slowly.

"Oh, pity," Maestri said. "Tell you what, how about you come with me, see how it goes? I'll give you..."

Maestri named a figure that made Clara's eyebrows shoot up. Ok. This definitely seemed like a smart choice.

"I'm in," Clara said. "Where do we go?"

Then again, this wasn't how Clara had expected it to go. One moment she'd been invited into a home, Maestri having a few words with who Clara assumed to be her relatives so that they got some alone time, and the next Maestri was setting up an easel and was asking Clara to lose her dress. "Um, sorry?" Clara said.

"The nude is a respected form of artistic expression," Maestri said, a little impatiently. "Now go on!"

Clara faltered. Then again Maestri was offering her a lot of money, and she did need it, and... well, she had come all this way. Well it was standing around naked for a bit, or it was finding more exhausting work, so in the long run...

Cheeks warming slightly, Clara began loosening her dress. She hesitated, before letting it drop to the floor at an expectant glance from Maestri. A few seconds later and her smallclothes joined it; Maestri walked over, moving her clothes to the side of the room.

Clara bit her lip, awkwardly crossing her arms. She fidgeted, bare feet brushed against each other as she stood in the middle of the room. Ok, this wasn't how she'd expected the day to go.

"Excellent!" Maestri said. She smiled in what might have been a little more than artistic appreciation. "Now arms above your head poppet, and we can get started."

"What?!" Clara squeaked.

"More natural pose," Maestri said. "How many portraits have you seen where the subject's just fidgeting? No, no, act like, ooh, you're lying back on something. That'll be nice."

Clara faltered. Then again she had agreed to come here... At least her social circles tended not to spend forever looking up pieces of art. Hopefully this wouldn't get back to anyone she knew.

Swallowing, she stretched up, one hand on her other wrist, tilting her head slightly. After a moment she closed her eyes, hoping both for a more relaxed, natural looking posture and to try and forget about the woman with a front row seat to seeing her like this.

Her nipples hardened in the cool air. Flustered, Clara still squirmed slightly, bare hips brushing together. God, Maestri really could just see everything coudln't she?

Clara took a deep breath. just think about what she was getting when this was over, that was better. That was much, much better...

"Wonderful," Maestri said. "Though, hm, I think we need better lighting."

There was the sound of footsteps; Clara kept her eyes closed, still nervous. Then there was a rustle of fabric; Clara's eyes widened, glancing over her shoulder.

Maestri had opened the curtains! Clara yelped, hurriedly turning her face forwards.

Ok, just hope no one was going to look in through the window. And if they did, pray no one could recognise her from her ass. Yeah, that seemed her best hope.

"Do- do the curtains really need to be open?" Clara said, flushing.

"We need more light," Maestri said, walking over to her easel. She picke dup her brush; "Ooh, now that blush is nice, kepe it up."

"Not going to be a problem," Clara said.

Cheeks burning, she watched as Maestri set to work.

A little over five hundred years later, and a very different Clara Oswald was in charge of a school trip. Older years were a mixed blessing; they were less chaotic, but also less likely to actually listen. "No, come back!" Clara said. "We're focusing on paintings from the 15th century, artists like-"

"Miss Oswald, Miss Oswald!" one of her students suddnely hurried up. "This one looks like you."

"What?" Clara said. "Which-"

She faltered as she looked where her student was pointing. It was a more photorealistic drawing than most from that era, and it... well the face was definitely her. The hairstyle was a little more dated, but the right colour. And then there was everything below the neck.

Definitely a body she was rather familiar with. After a moment, Clara took a deep breath, cheeks going a little pink. Definitely her.

The question was whether it was something she'd end up doing with the Doctor, or if one of the other hers throughout the timestream had taken up nude modelling. Going by the distinct flush in the painted Clara's cheeks, either was a possibility.

Clara moved closer, peering a little at the stand in front of the painting. Maybe that would say...

One of a number of paintings of the same subject by the otherwise unknown artist Maestri, her other works are on display in the wing to your right. The subject, name unknown, became a popular model among Maestri's acquaintences and featured in a number of art pieces.

That was... ominous. Clara's cheeks warmed.

"Uh, one sec," she said to her student, and hurried to the right. There couldn't be that many paintings of her, right-

She squeaked the moment she turned the corner. Ok, that was a lot of pieces of art. And damn it, did they all have to be nudes?! Her body, replicated in painstaking detail, and- oh god was that a sculpture?! All angles, all sides, all bared.

Clara just about suppressed a yelp as more of her students followed her into the wing, unwittingly getting far too good a view of just how their teacher looked naked. Cheeks blazing, Clara turned, trying to urge them all out.