Roxy/Open to Multiples: Selene
It wasn't her Region, it wasn't her Department, and, truth be told, it wasn't her sort of thing. After your first two or three hundred, the changes of seasons tended to all blend in with one another. It only meant the nights were getting longer, and her species still owned the night, no matter what humans might think.
Then she'd been appointed as a Council member. As if four centuries as a vampire Elder hadn't been enough time stuck in Admin. Not that she would have turned down the job; she hadn't been that impressed with Mycroft Holmes, and certainly couldn't do any worse. Council members were supposed to know what was going on -- at least that was the way she thought things should be done -- and this was a large public event with the potential for trouble. A bombing like the one not that long ago at the Welcome Center in Ravenmoore would have a lot higher body count. There could be a tie-in with Sunday's demonstration. Selene just didn't know, but intended to find out.
It wasn't the ice cold detective patrolling the festival. Centuries of passing for human when necessary let her play the happy young woman out for a day of fun. Sundress and strappy heeled sandals. Sunglasses, dangly earrings, little clutch purse. Her breathing, the pitch of her voice, even the sometimes slight awkwardness to her movement said young girl, probably early twenties, an office drone or retail worker who regularly hit the gym, looking for a good time, maybe a little excitement.
Catching sight of someone she knew from the Department, her Division but opposite shift, Selene drifted that way, one of the ubiquitous large slushy drinks partially obscuring her face. "Well hey, there, girlfriend," she said with no attempt to be subtle, just another pair of anonymous girls in the crowd. "Long time no see. What-evah have y'all been up to?" The accent she had chosen for the day came from her time in the New Orleans area during the 1920s.