Domina/Atys/Open.
Ugh, flyers. They were everywhere. Domina didn't relish having to spend a full afternoon in the Bazaar district as it was, and certainly not when she kept getting swatted in the legs by stray papers some idiot newsboy had let spill into the street. But there were further alterations required on Cassul's dress, and if nothing else, she was a woman wholly devoted to getting her way, regardless the bumps in the path. So it was to the Bazaar district and the tailor's shop, then back into the noise and smoke and bustle of the Bazaar and the papers sticking to her shoes. Someone jostled against her hip and, instinctively, her hand flew to the small purse tucked beneath her cloak—but of course, no one would think to rob her in such a public place.
It was only a boy, after all. A boy with a stack of papers nearly as high as she was—well, there was the source of the litter. Ugh, Faram, she hoped he wasn't some new Kiltia's Witness trying to bring her to the Light. She forced a smile. "Yes, what do you want? And do be quick about it, my dear, I'm very busy."