"The moon is out, everyone's in dreamland, and you've tuned in to The Deb of Night. Nobody to fall asleep next to? Go ahead and pull the radio into bed. That's what I'm here for."
Good evening, listeners. To start things off, I've been asked to read this brief notice. The LA Camarilla are announcing the re-opening of Griffith Park following the strange forest fire that hit it last month. They would like to remind everyone that the park is off limits at night and to please discount any strange howls you may hear from within. It is possible you will see people in Griffith Park at night. Do not approach them. There are no werewolves in Griffith Park.
And now, the news.
Crazy Anatole out near New York said that the angels have revealed themselves to him. They were ten feet tall, radiant and "totally okay with his diablerie habit".
A new man came into town today. Who is he? Who is he? What does he want from us? Why his perfect and beautiful flesh crafting? Why his perfect and beautiful Transylvanian accent? He says he is on the Path of Metamorphosis. Well, we have all been on the Path of Metamorphosis at one point or another in our lives. But why now? Why here? And just what does he plan to do with all those vozhd and slatzcha in that house he is renting in the Hills?
That new Tzimisce we now know is named Andrei came over just now. His facial spikes are perfect and we all hate and despair and love those perfect spikes in equal measure. Andrei told us that we are, by far, the most doomed city in the US, with Gehenna on the horizon and all, and he has come to study just what is going on around her and, perhaps, to help the Sabbat take back the city. He scowled and everything about him was perfect and I fell in love instantly.
Hunter conspiracies from a vague, yet menacing task force have bugged our conversations. I fear for Andrei. I fear for LA. I fear for anyone caught between what they know and what they don't yet know that they don't know.
Lights, seen in the sky above the Venture Tower. Not the glowing light from the explosions in Prince La Croix's office: we know the difference. We've caught onto their game. We understand the star-above-the-Venture-Tower's game. Wormwood. Ladies and gentlemen, the end of the world is here, and it's a blood red star in the sky.
Andrei and his pack at their very secretive haven in Hotel Hallowbrook say that their ritae have been indicating wild seismic shifts, meaning to say that the ground should be going up all over the place. I don't know about you listeners, but the ground has been as still as the crust of a tiny globe rocketing through an endless void could be. Andrei says that this is the unquiet sleep of an Antediluvian coming to its end. To put it plainly, then, there appear to be catastrophic earthquakes happening right here in LA that absolutely no one can feel. Well, submit an insurance claim anyway, see what you can get, right?
And now, the weather.
(Lacuna Coil- Swamped: watch?v=eFi4YunHFNQ)