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You damn near jump out of your skin, but blessedly, either by luck or by will you manage to keep your eyes downcast. You are, however, just about ready to bolt - when you realize that it is the doorman from Festive Fabrician's, Cassandra's store, who is calling to you. So much for your nerve, you fraying idiot! Kicking yourself as you close the distance until you slip under the eaves of Festive Fabrician's, safely out of the rain, you subtly flex your back, to make sure that you can feel the slightly warm, slightly sore spot where the Hide-Eyes Scarification glyph sits under your skin. Normally, it is more than uncomfortable enough that you are well-aware when it is running or not, but at the moment, you have some fairly painful cuts and bruises on your shoulders and back, to the point where you actually have to check. Only once you are certain that the Glyph is still running, and that you are comfortably inside the eaves, do you look up at the doorman - who is not the one who earlier today said you 'had more inches then sense' for presenting yourself at the front door.
On one hand, you are glad that you don't need to deal with that boor. On the other hand, that means that this one has identified you from a description someone gave him, and suffice to say, there are a lot of reasons why you are deathly afraid of being recognized from descriptions. Further thought on that however, is cut short by the sound of movement inside the storefront. You cannot see the source of the noise, so immediately you are once again on alert. Is - is this a trap after all?!
"Don't worry, I can hear the girls coming out for you right out now."
You whirl around to face him fast enough that he gets startled himself. He recovers quickly though, and noticing your confusion and apprehension, says by way of explanation -
"The girls will go with you to the fitting."
"Th - what?"
"The fitting for you dress, miss."
"No, I - I understand what a fitting is, what I don't understand - is my dress not done?"
"Oh, no. It is done. It is just not here."
"What d - where is it then?"
"At Hettenschloss Haberdashers, Mistress Cassandra's husband's place."
Pattern's Perdition. For you, it seems, there is no such thing as an easy errand. And even as naive and ignorant as you may be, it is not lost on you that <span class="mu-i">Mistress Cassandra</span> has sent your dress to a <span class="mu-s">men's</span> clothing store. But not wanting to make more of a scene, you brush past that point of contention in your next question.
"And why, pray tell, is my dress ... not here?"
"To tell it true, I don't know. Oi, Marpessa!"
A brace of girls, the youngest appearing only a few years older than you, approach the front door of Festive Fabrician's from the inside. The tallest one - who is a foot shorter than you, instead of a foot and a half shorter like the others - answers.
