//RIP Claudia, you would have loved serenading Lestat with You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch.

Sitting by the fireplace, painting her nails.

Claudia's currently wandering the streets, staring at everybody who passes her by, roping them into conversation. She also is wearing a bloodstained dress, but her coat is covering it!

He should probably hurry, though. She's frightening the mortals by staring at them.

He'll carry her if it's close enough to sunrise! She knows he will!

She'll find that VERY funny when he finds her. But then, she's a giggly drunk. Everything's funny.

Probably for the best. She's /very/ lost right now. But she's having a good time!

Maybe! Hopefully!

So much wine in their blood!

Laying on the floor, giggling. She's overindulged for the holiday. One of her victims was PLASTERED.

She's (reluctantly) promised not to poison anyone tonight. What a boring holiday this is.

She's too tired to hunt tonight. Which is a problem. Because she's hungry.

Good point. First Lestat, then Louis. Just to see if his reaction changes based on who she's throwing things at.

Well, they should test it out. She'll throw a book at his head and then tell Louis she's just really passionate about reading!

She's going to remember that excuse.

Right. Very passionate about chess. Especially when he's losing.

A /passionate existence/? Is that what made him throw the chess board the last time they played?

Their tempers? Seems like a funny thing to be proud of.

She didn't even specify WHICH father! (Yes, it's him. But as said before: shut up!)

Shut up shut up shut up shut up SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!

When she gets angry, she acts like her father. That makes her even angrier.

The silence that settled after the vase smashed was heavy. It let her sit in her complicated feelings. The rage, the grief. That was still her father, no matter how little she wanted to admit it. It was a fact she would never escape, much like the body that she'd be trapped in for ━

She is ALSO the only one who can KILL Lestat. Just so everyone understands the rules.

.... Hm. If the insults are good or in French, she'll let them slide.

As he should. He's her maker. She's allowed to call him names. Nobody else.

"Hey, only I can call him that!"

... ... She does not do this THAT often!

The blood was rancid, yeah.

How to tell your fellow vampires that your meal was too disgusting to finish and instead of cleaning up, you're now hanging out with him?

She tested the vase in her hands. It was large. It would smash satisfyingly. She squared her jaw to keep her fangs from dropping as she thought of the man in the painting. There were so many conflicting emotions when it came to him and that only made her more angry. "Wanna know ━

"I'm used to disappointment." Hope was the strange feeling. Louis, especially, has been trying to keep her spirits up as she comes to terms with her physical state. After this, she'd have to concede that Lestat is doing his share too. But that didn't make it easy to hope. "... Thank you."

Pokes her head out of her coffin. ... Very obviously debating going back to sleep.

Claudia considered for a moment, hands gripping the book in her hands tightly. She felt the pure, destructive rage too. And similarly, she had destroyed her creator. Or tried to. She had a sneaking suspicion... "Yeah. Alright." She agreed, throwing the book at the portrait ━

Of course, her first question was 'why not?' But she didn't ask it, mostly because if Lestat was willing to do his part, she would meet him halfway. "Promise you'll actually look." She made eye contact with him. There was hope and ━

Of course she wanted to find her. And yes, a majority of that came from the desperate need for more. She couldn't fully hate her immortal companions because she also loved them. But even children needed peers outside of their parents! And she wasn't a child anymore. Which made even her ━

//Claudia: [makes a human friend] Lestat: we... we went over this... do you not remember.... we WENT OVER THIS.

Claudia stared up at him, trying to process what she just heard. Lestat turned his mother. That meant that not only is there one other confirmed vampire out there, but she's family. That was something. She could grab onto that with both hands. "Well, if she's..." She ━

Her head snapped up, eyes locking onto his face. A little spark of curiosity started to overtake the despair. It was visible in her eyes. There had been almost no light in them a moment ago. There wasn't much now either, but it was something. "Your mom?" She thought of Louis' mother. She hadn't ━

Claudia followed close behind him, taking a seat. Carefully, she placed the popcorn bucket in her lap, looking around the theater. She was transfixed. Things have changed so much over the years, it sometimes took her by surprise. "Not normally." She answered, ━

"When's it from?" It would be nice to think about something that wasn't her own lot in life. And maybe her genuine distress would make him more likely to talk. Claudia isn't above using her own pain to get information. "D'ya remember?"

She watched him with a slightly amused smile, but then her gaze was drawn back to the other person. Quietly noting his face for later. Then, she turned and followed. At a far more leisurely pace. "Your voice getting squeaky fills me with confidence." She said, sarcastically.

Claudia stopped, following his gaze. She looked at the stranger with a curious face, head tilting to the side. The expression made her look innocent - but also, in certain scenarios, can be creepy. "Who's that?" She asked after a minute of silence.

Claudia gave a soft, weak laugh. But then she let the silence settle between them once again. It was a few minutes later that she managed to find her composure, slowly moving her head from where it was buried in his shirt. She glanced up at the painting she had been abusing. "However you ━

Claudia watched him, staying in her spot. She took one of the buckets when he got back, holding it in her arms. She felt ridiculous. But, some innocent fun might be nice. "Kinda implied by the name." She said, jokingly.

Proud. Embarrassingly, the word hit her hard. To hide her reaction, she turned and buried her face in his shirt. If there were bloodstains from tears when they parted, she's confident he wouldn't mention it. "Remember that the next time I throw something at you." A weak attempt at a joke.

Claudia was curious how things have changed, watching everything like a hawk. Or a kitten spotting its first mouse. It had been a while since she'd done something like this. "If you want some, sure." She said, noncommittally. It's not like eating that would do anything for her.

Question: Would you let her bite you, yes or no?

Once or twice. What's better relationship advice, then?

The other person. . . ?