They've really committed to the bit, haven't they?

Opalyn will continue walking through this district, as long as it seems like she's still heading vaguely back to the castle.

What is the population of Little Damar and how many of them are sex workers, Opalyn wonders? Also what's up with the... gloves?... on the third one there? They seem to cover the fingers but not the thumbs or the rest of the hand? Should Opalyn even ask or is it better not to?

None of that is to Opalyn's taste, hmm?  Well if you keep walking in the same direction, maybe this will do for your... morning coffee.

Opalyn should not stop. She should go back to the castle. She should find out how contraception and disease prevention work in this universe.

She does not want to get mechanical crabs or anything even worse.

Not that she's not tempted!

This really isn't fair. Opalyn starts to hurry. She almost trips because she's not looking where she's going, but she catches herself and smiles nervously and fixes her hair and keeps going.

Okay that wrapped around past sexy and into "I have additional questions I really don't want the answers to."

Opalyn makes a run for it and the density of sex workers seems to be falling, finally? Has she escaped?

For now.

Okay! Well, it's good to know she has options, if inevitably everyone in her pile of potential mates turns out to be INSANE.

She'll make her way back to her quarters as efficiently as possible. She'd really like to get off her feet and regroup.

Her apartment is where she left it!  She'll probably get lost in the castle a couple of times along the way; but not die even, like, once.

Thank goodness. This new existence is exhausting. She'll grab an entirely different kind of drink out of the cooler and flop down on that soft-looking surface over by the window. She needs to think about where to go from here, what to do next, but her head is swirling, and she needs to clear it.

There's an image Opalyn often thinks of for meditation: it's like your mind is a silty glass of river water, too cloudy to see through, but if you meditate, the silt all sinks to the bottom and the rest of the water is clear. She thinks about that sometimes, and then wonders what good it is to have a glass of water with an inch of silt at the bottom. You still end up with a mouthful of silt if you try to drink the water.

In lieu of meditation, Opalyn likes to think about how much she doesn't like that analogy. She does that for a couple of minutes and then she feels better.

She's grabbing a strange drink from the cabinet?  Roll dice on a potions side effect table... 11... huh.

Opalyn sips her drink. This one tastes like butterscotch, but bitter? Bitterscotch?

She has the pile of mate profiles next to her on the bench. She shudders, remembering the last time she used a dating app. She got Walter out of that. He was the best of a bad lot. She poured a lot of effort into that relationship, trying to explain what she wanted and trying to make him happy too, but it just never quite came together, and then he flaked on her in the end. Well, it's not like he's going to pop up here in Europa, like her mind suddenly suggested for some reason, so there's not a lot of point in dwelling on that.

She'd probably rather attend to something else before she goes through the pile. What else is there to think about?

The top order of business is still recovering Doctor Disaster, of course. Opalyn wanted to do that anyway but after learning more about Disaster and how he runs his domain, she's more determined than before. Shocking to think that he's an exceptionally good instance of his class, given how whackadoodle he seemed, but she's not exactly ready to run this place without him. There's not a lot to do there at the moment, though; she already has her people working every angle on the problem that she's thought of so far.

She does still have this other stack of papers from the staff meeting that she should go through.

She should probably figure out where to get more clothes, ones that won't get her funny looks in the streets. Apparently she also needs a cool hat? Opalyn's never been a hat person but when in Little Damar, etc.

She needs to figure out how to pay back the Guard Captain, though that might be easier after Disaster is home.

She could probably use a nap. She got up really early.

And then, yes, there's the lurking pile of Romantic Possibility.

Easy things first! Is there an obvious straightforward way to handle the clothing issue?

There's devices inside this room that she could put her current clothes into and maybe something would happen to them in there?  What does Opalyn mean by this inquiry, exactly?

No, she doesn't want a closet, or even an automatic steamer or shrinker or whatever those devices turn out to be. She needs clothing that's less conspicuous. How should she go about requesting things from the laundry lady and the hat lady? Or maybe Dame Fleur only washes clothes and doesn't create them? Is there a seamstress? Or a seamster?

On her way here, she passed multiple castle urchins who could be dispatched to find such minions!

Oh my god he's adorable. Opalyn hopes she does not end up having to wear as many distinct layers of vest as he does!

She sends forth the multi-vested waif to seek either Dame Fleur or the Disastrous Hatter.

...Dame Fleur, at least, will be along shortly.