[h3][color=IndianRed][i]Reyna Baker[/i][/color][/h3][hr]

There was no shortage of red traffic lights this morning – a motorcyclist was hitting every single one the moment they were halfway down the blocks. Coming from the south entrance of the city, cutting through country roads in between farm fields, their first stop was supposed to be in the northern end of the city in the Silver Hills district. It was either this or going far east and then around the big lake. Where this person wanted to go, they had to be patient, though that reservoir is running low as it is. They throttled the gas a couple times in waiting for the green light. It took half a minute before the light turned, and the motorcycle immediately growled and grumbled before taking off down the road. It was a Kraus brand – most of the working parts were visible beneath the seat, and exhaust was pouring out the tail end like a locomotive.

Rumor around town was that some big wig was hosting an opening ceremony for this residential district up north, some kind of party or something, and the plan was to do a bit of scouting before hand, to see what the place was like. There was just one problem...

The cyclist came to another stop at an intersection, the red glow of the traffic light reflected of the rider's helmet. In frustration, they quickly undid the straps and pulled off their helmet. A plume of short natural red hair flashed and the face of a frustrated young woman appeared from underneath. She took a deep sighed and combed her fingers through her curly faux hawk

“Every God damn stop light...” She grumbled. She savored the moment while she could, for a breeze to cool down her face. She looked behind her at the black exhaust fuming out and shook her head. If only Mia was here, she could get a thing like this running smooth in no time. This wasn't the first case of her bike's fuel-pressure regulator going bad. She put the helmet back on. In just a few more moments, the light came back on, and off she went again.

…

It was a matter of time until her bike rolled onto the property, and, well, woo-ooo – hoo, boy, wasn't it something she was [i]not[/i] expecting. Silver Hills was a [i]much[/i] fancier place than she was anticipating, and the new Strong Gold place, while supposed to be a fairly cheap place to be living, holding up to the north standard for the most part. Were these people going to be wearing suits or something? She thought this was going to be a community celebration.

Still, no reason she can't just crash the place. Surely not everyone in town owned a suit – and surely, there was no reason she can't do a bit of exploring around the place before it actually opened! The redhead parked her bike in the lot, and stuffed the key in her pocket. She craned her neck around, eyeballing the caterers working hard to organize the event for this evening. As she stood around, waiting, she stretched her body after a long day of driving, until nobody around had eyes on her. The redhead bailed, running into the newly developed neighborhood.

It was a little strange seeing an entire neighborhood with no cars, ornaments, or people. It was like one of those nuclear test sites where everything is the same and everything is fucking empty. The houses were supposed to be cheap, she heard, but they looked okay. She wondered what the insides were like. Creeping behind a line of bushes, and she stepped onto the porch of one of the houses and fiddled around with it. Doors locked, windows secured. Damn. She looked around the building some more and thought carefully. Maybe the second story had a way in. The girl held onto the post on the patio and placed her boot against the side of the house. With a jump, she kicked herself off of the house and pulled herself up from the post, then throwing her hand over the edge of patio roof, finally pulling herself up on top of it. The rest was as easy as carefully stepping on top of the actual house and carefully walking up its slanted roof. 

Now to see if this was any better than... oh. The window pane fit very loosely in the frame of this one. So loosely, this could be popped off as easy as pie. She did just that, and soon found herself inside the house's bathroom, her boots hitting the vinyl flooring. Maybe this is one of the reasons the houses are cheap. With drafts like these, she wondered what kind of bills they'd be paying for heating.

Huh. It's been a long day.

She lifted up the toilet lid curiously, but to her dismay, no water. Of course, what was she thinking? Then again...

Who would know?