[hr][h1][color=#ffe0bd]Rhea Harlow[/color][/h1][hr]
[u][i]Strongriver Plaza, Hedgemount[/i][/u]

The nightclub door creaked open.

“Yes? Oh, Aegis. You’re right on time.” Said a tall, beautiful blonde within. 

Rhea nodded, pulling out a cardboard parcel from her bag. “I have something from a sister brothel for you. Manager’s eyes only.”

The lady regarded the package with curious eyes, holding it gently in her manicured hands. She thanked Rhea, and closed the door. The courier turned away, into the alley and back up the wall. Instead of heading home, as she normally would, she crept onto the nightclub’s roof. There was a certain air vent that carried voices extremely well, and Rhea held her ear against it.

The package she ran, it was ranked SSS — highly classified. Those packages started at $10,000 minimum to be couriered, and in her time of running she had only come across two. They typically held government spy intel, or something of a very dangerous nature. So, undoubtedly, Rhea was curious. 

Voices whispered up from the vent.

“... want those bathrooms scrubbed by…”

“...package? Give it here, let me see…”

The silence drew on for several minutes. Rhea gently adjusted her squat, surveying the rooftop before pressing her ear to the grate.

“...Oh my god! Oh my... This has to get to Headquarters, now.”

“...what is it? Ma’am, what’s…”

“...huge threat… danger in Roseview… they won’t see it…”

Rhea heard the nightclub’s front door open. She peered over the edge as three women and one beastial metahuman stormed down the sidewalk, disappearing into a waiting limo. They drove off, tires screeching. Rhea blinked, her lips parted uselessly.

[hr]
[u][i]Havenfield Market, Roseview (7:35pm)[/i][/u]

Having showered and dressed into something more appropriate, Rhea stood at the edge of the Harvest Festival. She sported a short white dress with a near-transparent [url=https://img0.etsystatic.com/106/2/5961957/il_570xN.918730010_1ftp.jpg
]moth wing cape.[/url] They came with a wire woven into the top of the wings and little hand loops if Rhea wanted to pretend-fly.

She checked in at the front and descended into the hustle of people and lights, drifting among the stands and shows. In the back of her mind, that ominous conversation replayed. She would keep an eye open, to be sure. That didn't mean, however, that she wouldn't enjoy herself. The crowds, the performances, and all the trinkets to peruse! This would be a night to remember.