User blog:SensibleCenobite/Shorty Skillz. Brujah queen.

My grandma is on her death bed and wanted me to write her a story. This a fictional account of my angel of a grandma.

This is just a story. Please take and re modify for any campaign, vacation, or bed time story.

'''WARNING: This story is tale about a halfling vampire woman that had a heart of gold. It may have adult themes, but is mostly tame. This is a story about becoming cool and overcoming rejection. '''

I remember the time I was about to get my face smashed outside of Elysium on the curb. My crime? Being a nerd on a Friday night. I got caught studying instead of partying after I had already been warned about my heart condition. The “Queen” of the city at the time was a tiny, two foot eleven inch, red haired Halfling named Doris. Her pimp name was “Shorty Skillz” and she was the sweetest Brujah you could ever meet. However, even though she was really kind, she didn’t take any guff.

My mouth is wrapped around the curb and clan Gangrel, Brujah, and Ravnos are pissed. They’re chanting “NERD! FOUR EYES [BC Glasses from a bad fey contract]! QUAKER! And that’s where I drew the line. No one calls me a QUAKER. Have you been to their meetings. No fun is allowed. No smiles exist, EVER!

Shorty Skillz rolls up on the crew and shouts “HALT! This one belongs to me. He’s my fish.” She points her one foot golden pimp cane at the crowd. It has a gnarly dwarven adamantium fist, engraved with delicate elven runes, and is covered in halfling velvet. Everyone backed up without hesitating. Shorty Skillz words were law and it’s because we loved her. Not feared her.

She extended her pimp cane fist first toward my mouth. I kiss it or get smashed. What do you think I did? I kissed it and got up, brushing the pride, asphalt, and dust off my clothes. She smirks at me and says “I thought so fish. Tomorrow your training begins.”

The next day Shorty Skillz and I go to the floral shop and get a dozen roses of all colors. I tithe to her the yellow rose because it was here favorite. She keeps her eyes on the road as we cruise around ten miles and under hitting a massive cigar. She puffs twice and passes the cigar to me and fills me in, “I know what your problem is kiddo. You’ve got pussies for nuts. Get laid or something, I want grandkids eventually.

I puff twice and pass it back thinking hard about what she said. “Remember your friends Heroin Bob and Steve-o from high school?”, she prods on. “One day Bob went to your old buddy Steve-o and called him a loser. Steve-o had the balls to take a hit and admit Bob was right.” She puffed twice and passes the cigar to me after twirling the ash off into a diet cola can. I missed Bob, Steve-o, and my old punk crew. They weren’t always right, but I liked the talks Bob and Steve-o had with the Angel of Death, Azazel.

I say “you’re right master, but what are these flowers for?” She points to the HOTTEST vampiress I had seen in nineteen million years. “Go give her a rose and tell her how beautiful she looks.” I couldn’t disobey anyway since she would Dominate me. I open the door to the cruiser, take a nice black rose out of the pack of eleven, and grab my guts. They are twisted. I say “You’re really great and I like the way you smile. This rose is for you.” as I extend the rose to her. She smiles at me and says “Thanks.” I go to walk away and she yells at me, “give me your number knuckle head.” I give her my number and she says she wants to hang out that weekend. I didn’t even have to give her a pity trip by saying something lame like “my buddies said if I didn't get your number, they would smash my face on a curb.” I earned the Stone price.

Shorty Skillz is proud and reminds me, “If you messed that up, it would have been your face ;)” Whew! Did I just dodge the bullet or what! We go around the chantries where all the hottest creatures of the night were hanging out. I gave away all the roses and got three numbers and eleven gratitudes. I never did get married or have neonates, but I got the skills now and I’m happier than ever.

Grandma this was for you. When you’re in Haven reading the Orichalcum tablets from Saturn, please laugh,

Sensible Cenobite