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 - Lorea and Siobhan
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Lorea and Siobhan is written by Alicia E. Goranson and read by Katherine Cross.

Transcript:

Today is not Lorea’s day and so help whatever gods she believes in, it won’t improve tomorrow either. Vespa and Helios were the cutest couple when Helios first moved to town. Folks would find them together on Rainier rooftops and South Seattle street corners, wearing doggy ears and paw gloves. But Vespa needed a lot of emotional support. It’s why she began dating someone out of state in the first place. She brought them here and then Helios didn’t like to be used like that, and started telling anyone who would hear xer that the Sodo Anarch collective were abusive trash.

This was only mildly Lorea’s problem until she saw her name of the job board for forming the restorative justice crew to aid Vespa and Helios. Lorea wouldn’t actually have to be on the crew. But she’d have to interview Vespa and, somehow, Helios, and then ask around who would be the best people to intervene in this affair.

Lorea waited at the Georgetown bar where members of the collective routinely gathered to discuss collaborative duties, and ambushed Siobhan when she came in. “Siobhan, please,” Lorea begged. Lorea, who owned a warehouse and the trucks who filled it from the docks. Lorea, the physically strongest of the collective. Lorea, almost on bended knee before Siobhan.

“Please,” Lorea said. “Let me handle the mutual aid food purchase and prep this week. I know you don’t want to do it. I’m sure you can handle Vespa and Helios. You know them. They know you.”

“No,” Siobhan said. “We don’t fucking trade roles, especially in organizing a restorative justice crew. Vespa and Helios will fucking notice you didn’t want to help them and there’ll be no point in making the crew in the first place.”

Lorea’s watch beeped with a reminder that she needed to be at the waterfront in half an hour.

“What do you want?” Lorea said. “I don’t have the time or the spoons to handle everything going into forming a crew. I am fucking up to my ears in handling shit for half the collective already? I don’t want to start calling in favors. I know I am the last person to call in favors from the collective. But. Forget it. I have to go. I don’t know when it’s going to happen. I’m sorry.”

Siobhan watched a very frazzled Lorea leave the bar for her enormous black truck that looked like every other enormous black truck cosplaying a police car. She wondered what it would take; when would be the final straw to get Lorea to leave the collective. Or at least take some extended time off leaving Arturo in the lurch, if he ever wanted to keep working at the warehouse.

Siobhan gathered with the others around two tables pressed together, every side packed with chairs, and prepared to spend the night itemizing funds gathered for the Rainier members’ rent. Among the list of people needing help was Vespa. Someone at the table would have to ask the collective-shattering question; should they help out Helios as well? Is Helios still part of the collective, despite speaking ill of it, watching it abandon xer, and now possibly even leaving xer destitute? Would Helios even take the cash? What if it went into xer’s GoFundMe anonymously? Which of them would be the ones to ask Vespa if she was even comfortable with any of this?

Lorea. It had to start with Lorea. They just needed a volunteer to tell Lorea what she already knew. The wheels of justice were bound to a track, reliant on steps and stages in order, and for want of a Lorea, the cause would be lost.

-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 - Lorea
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Lorea is written by Alicia E. Goranson and read by Katherine Cross.

Transcript:

When Lorea visits her collective, as they gather to discuss resource distribution, leftist gossip, and who petted the cutest cat that week, she is at a disadvantage. The structure is supposed to be flat, the hierarchy eliminated, which is difficult to do when you own your own warehouse and fleet of trucks. Lorea works with the ships coming in on Puget Sound, bearing their goods to the waterfront for the next stage of transport. She is skilled in international shipping, ensuring all the correct forms meet their requirements. She employs a lawyer whom she has never dated.

She regularly sends trucks across international borders to Canada and has rarely been caught bringing drugs into the country without smoothing the matter over first. Lorea knows how to get the best Japanese whiskey flowing in the apartment she keeps in a nice South Seattle gentrified neighborhood, although visitors rarely find her there, married to the job as she is. She has crash space in the top of her warehouse where she regularly disappears when the jobs are coming in hot and heavy.

It’s feast or famine in shipping but Lorea still finds time for darts and pool at the south end bars and the occasional one night stand through Lexx. It’s just that other members of her collective squat in decaying houses, or in tent cities under bridges. Some cluster-rent in old apartments built for migrant workers in the 70s. Some still pan-handle or busk, work graveyard gigs, or have online hustles that they are too busy to talk about.

And here’s Lorea, nails done perfectly, black leather vest with eyes that must have taken a half hour to get right, bringing up that maybe the collective should look into building five-over-ones near the Ike’s over by the Lake. Yes, the money is there but also Lorea handles that kind of cash for funsies on a weekend at the Sodo strip clubs. No one’s voice should mean any more than anyone else’s and yet this thirty-year-old looking woman who has probably killed a man in front of cops has opinions that pass through their minds with the weight of icebergs. When they tell her “no,” she nods and folds her hands and thinks whatever they decide is cute. She knows the point of this collective. She knows her power. And she is very careful not to whip it out and lay it on the table, bare for all to see and fear.

-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.