Slowly, two shadowy figures come into focus, one behind the other with their hand on the other's neck. Vampire: The Masquerade: Blood Doll Anthology. An series of vignettes from the Not Ready for Opsec Players and Alicia E. Goranson.
Slowly, two shadowy figures come into focus, one behind the other with their hand on the other's neck. Vampire: The Masquerade: Blood Doll Anthology. An series of vignettes from the Not Ready for Opsec Players and Alicia E. Goranson.
Vampire: The Masquerade: Blood Doll Anthology
Vampire: The Masquerade: Blood Doll Anthology - Season 1 - Judith (2)
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Judith (2) is written by Alicia E. Goranson and read by Dee Arbacauskas.

Transcript:

Judith began her evening wondering why she never got coffee anymore. First off was the obvious. Her face. But with the invention of the modern phone, and its many, many delivery apps, she no longer had an excuse. Of course, using a phone was dangerous for someone as paranoid as her job made her be. But Aaralyn had left the phone on her nightstand to be used. As was a bit of cash someone had sent her Venmo account six months ago. Yes, Judith thought to herself. This night, I will get a coffee.

Of course, none of the coffee shops were open except for Denny’s. At this time of night when her blood was pumping and she hadn’t yet looked at all the jobs Aaralyn had waiting for her, her world was her oyster. It was time to re-engage with the bean, as she once had at the turn of the century. (No, the turn before that one.) Coffee had been the rage with all strata of classes. Light diluted coffees by the news stands, thick African coffees with a purposeful amount of sludge at the bottom, or exciting gourmet coffees of dubious origins, each with a story about how they were brewed in the ritzier parts of town. They were nothing like the moderate, temperate coffees from dried grounds or fresh crushed beans of today. Coffee had been with Judith every night, back when she knew a gal who didn’t mind her face and was exceedingly proud of her house blends.

That night, Judith opened the delivery app and confirmed that the only thing that served coffee was the Denny’s and, if she was feeling brave, the dumpsters behind every Starbucks in the city. With trepidation, she ordered a very large cup and a plate of fries to push the delivery price over the minimum fifteen dollars. The fries would, of course, go straight to the can for the rats and crows to fight over…. to share! Share together. Judith was a bitch whose cynical nature would make even Sylvia Plath’s nose wrinkle, but something inside her wanted the creatures of the night and gutter to support one another as clearly no one else was.

Bing-bong. The delivery driver had read the obnoxiously long list of directions that Judith had left to help them find her place, a Mother-in-Law sublet which did not want to be found. Judith opened her door and there, among the rosemary, sage, and other herbs in her garden, lay the oily paper bag and cardboard cup holder, capable of securing four cups but only containing one. Judith lifted the cup of ancient coffee, brewed who knows how long ago and left to sit for the entire night, and put it to her lips. She drank it down, warm and bitter, and reminded herself once more why she never got coffee, before chucking the bag and cup into the neighbor’s trash, and then preparing herself for the grim tasks of her day.

-END-

Portions of the materials are the copyrights and trademarks of Paradox Interactive AB, and are used with permission. All rights reserved. For more information please visit worldofdarkness.com.

Slowly, two shadowy figures come into focus, one behind the other with their hand on the other's neck. Vampire: The Masquerade: Blood Doll Anthology. An series of vignettes from the Not Ready for Opsec Players and Alicia E. Goranson.
Slowly, two shadowy figures come into focus, one behind the other with their hand on the other's neck. Vampire: The Masquerade: Blood Doll Anthology. An series of vignettes from the Not Ready for Opsec Players and Alicia E. Goranson.
Vampire: The Masquerade: Blood Doll Anthology
Vampire: The Masquerade: Blood Doll Anthology - Season 1 - Judith (1)
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Judith (1) is written by Alicia E. Goranson and read by Dee Arbacauskas.

Transcript:

[Read as Judith] I have always been a terrible musician. I blame it on my terrible taste in music. My latest obsession is Taylor Swift, from albums sent to me on burned Compact Discs from Esther. I hate how music has disappeared from people’s homes. Records were fine, as were cassettes and Compact Discs but then music you owned yourself vanished. You needed a phone to beg a company somewhere to send you a cut-down version of a song and my ears are very sensitive. A whole society lost control of its music and I have to beg Esther for any pop artists with music made after 2008.

I used to be in more music scenes, always in the back row of Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, or the Ramones, or the Cars (I hate the Cars) in some punk club. Music was accessible then. Today, I hang out in the rafters or VIP boxes of Sodo clubs to hear what the kids are into these days, and I can’t handle all 100 of the gecs, no matter how many mushrooms I hand out to the kids around me.

Then Esther tells me that Taylor Swift is coming to Seattle. In person. At one of the stadiums, the one to the south, whatever company has branded it now. I am not known for my squeals. If anything, I’m known for causing them, both pleasurable and otherwise, but Swift’s arrival is enough to have me emit my own. Of course, long gone were the days when I could pay anyone to stand in line for tickets, and they sell out online in seconds. And I quickly determine that none of the scalpers had tickets for the VIP box seats in which I need to hide. Esther informs me I need to suck it up and talk to someone who can help. The worst person who I never want to speak to without my full compliment of bruisers ready to throw down.

Lorea agrees to meet me and yes, she has VIP box seat tickets for Swift. We meet in a small bar by the waterfront, that we break into after hours. Lorea thinks she is being clever by arriving an hour early but I have already been there for two. I will not be stood up. Everything is a power play. Lorea pours herself a shot of something and offers to get me a drink, but no, I had two hours to myself and emptied the bar of my favorite cocktails. I’m good.

We get down to business. I can sneak into Lorea’s private box at the stadium, provided I stand for the entire concert. The terms are not negotiable. If I can grow mushrooms in my belly, I have the patience to stand that long.

I retorts that I will stand provided that Lorea lets Esther come in tow. And that Lorea provides refreshments. In return, I agree to look away exactly once the next time Lorea tries to smuggle in something for which Aaralyn would typically demand a tax. Usually drugs.

The night of the show, the Link is packed. The roads are packed. The parking garages are packed. People are renting out their apartments’ driveways as parking. The streets are packed with Swifties and T-shirt salespeople. The turnstiles are packed. I am very good at sneaking but the stadium has nowhere to hide. I cover myself in a hoodie and face mask, and grudgingly join the crowd, having no idea how to reach Lorea’s VIP box otherwise. I will suffer for Swift, and then, who knows who will suffer for me.

-END-

Portions of the materials are the copyrights and trademarks of Paradox Interactive AB, and are used with permission. All rights reserved. For more information please visit worldofdarkness.com.