pansement | for computation

for computation

In Claudia's defense, she didn't know the man who's throat she's currently ripping out was a high-powered pharmaceutical exec who's on at least a few hit lists for price-gouging his drugs and spiriting away any and all negative test results from his clinical trials. She knew he was important. Man like that wearing a suit like that and throwing around money in that way, he had to be important. Or at least, he had to think he was. All Claudia knew was that she hated the way he called her sweetheart and stared at her prepubescent tits just a little too long.

She knows Louis would be mad. Targeting someone like this, someone with money, that's sloppy. That's going to draw attention. You're rash, Claudia, you've got to stop being so impulsive about this. But she knew she could hide this from him. Try as he might to say they're a pair, to say that they're a team, Claudia knew that Louis's eyes wandered away from her more often than not, wandering to the bed of another.

Just the two of them sticking together, 'me and you,' huh? Bullshit.

So yes, Claudia could have planned this better. But she was so hungry and she hadn't eaten in ages and it was so much fucking harder to hunt in this day and age than back in the 1920s, when people didn't ask too many questions if a body was found in the lake or a drunk was 'mauled by a dog' as they so often assumed it was. Now they had fucking security cameras and phones in everyone's pockets and apps that let you whine like a little bitch to your neighbors if someone looked at you funny. Claudia was adjusting, but it was a trial.

So of course she wasn't going to take up the opportunity when the man invited her to 'join the rest of the girls' back at his place. And of course she was going to make sure the rest of the girls were conveniently not in the building when she sunk her teeth into this man's neck, blood spurting out as it started to paint her and the rest of the room a deep crimson. She was so hungry. It ain't wrong to want to feed yourself!

The problem (because there's always a problem) came in the fact that the door might not be as thoroughly locked as Claudia wanted it to be. Or just one security camera was left unplugged. Or that she's just not as sneaky as she'd like.

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Satisfied with her willingness to bargain, she relocks the safety and puts her gun back into her purse, which is really for the best. It's not that Root wouldn't ever shoot a child, but she'd really prefer not to. Particularly not a girl around the apparent age Claudia is.

"Oh, I really couldn't care less what happens to Jerry here after I'm done," she responds, by all appearances in perfectly good cheer. Root pulls out a pair of surgical gloves from her purse and snaps them on as she strides up to where Jerry Hudson's crumpled on the floor, preparing to slow the bleeding enough that he can stay conscious for her questions.

"You don't mind if I call you Jerry, do you? Oh-- wait..."

It's not the gory mess of arteries and flesh she's expecting. Instead, there's a relatively neat wound. Her head jerks up to Claudia in growing amazement. Root's been deep on the internet; she knows her vampire lore, even if at this moment she's thinking it's an affectation or a fetish and not a supernatural reality.

"Were you just drinking his blood?"

Okay. Yeah. So she was drinking his blood. There's a neat wound and a lot of blood on Claudia's mouth, that's a pretty valid assumption and she knows there's no point in denying this. No, I was just trying to revive him, by what, putting her mouth on his neck? There's one answer to this and they both know it.

Besides, she can just as easily kill this woman if needed. Though the more they talk, Claudia's not sure if she wants to. This person is taking a dying man and a bloodied teenager in a weirdly calm fashion.

"You gonna ask me questions while Jerry bleeds out?" Claudia lightly sasses, before looking back down at the man. "Way I see it, you're running out of time."

"That's a great point," Root responds in a tone of delightful surprise, like everything Claudia says is even better than the last thing.

Sure, it says concerning things about her, too, but Root as a teen had already been orchestrating violent justice for people who deserved it, even if she wasn't carrying it out herself directly. That was a matter of capability, not willingness, even then. Root doesn't mind getting her hands dirty, and finding a young girl in a bloody mess refusing to apologize reminds her a little of herself, in a way that makes her want to scoop her up and teach her how to avoid repercussions. It's a charming sentiment she doesn't usually experience.

Business first, though. Root removes her fashionable scarf and packs it to Jerry's neck wound, tying it firmly to keep pressure even as she twists to start hauling him away into the en suite bathroom. It clearly takes effort for her slight form to manage it, but it's also clearly something she's done before given she remains absolutely steady on her heels.

"Be right back!" she declares between breaths, heaving Gerald Hudson into the bathroom before he fully regains consciousness. He's already flailing weakly. It'll just be much easier to get answers if she can pretend she was lying to Claudia about letting her at him afterwards, which is a conversation she can't have with her in the room.

Root closes the door behind them and props Jerry up against the side of his overly extravagant tub. If Claudia listens through the wall, she can probably hear Root's voice abruptly change into a believably frightened woman who's in over her head. Maybe this strategy wouldn't work if Jerry had been able to fully follow their exchange, but Root banks on everything being a little too overwhelming for him to track. Top that off with her merciless confidence in her delivery, and it's relatively simple to convince him that what's going on is the narrative she sells him.

Once she gets her answers, she resists the urge to pat him on the cheek and instead keeps up character until she leaves the bathroom. Then she's suddenly back to being overly eager and interested in Claudia, as abrupt as a mask falling off.

"All done. How about I go get you some new clothes while you finish up?" Root wants to ask a lot of questions, and helping her out might make her more inclined to answer them.

Claudia is absolutely listening at the wall. And the more she listens, the more confused and interested by this situation she is. This woman was faced with a situation unexpected, something she obviously hadn't seen or dealt with before, and her response is...acknowledging it, but continuing to go about her business. There's very little fear. There's no screaming. It's the calm of someone who's dealt with odd situations before and the cheerful surprise of someone who's odd situations probably involved a lot of blood.

As she hears Root shift her voice, take control of the conversation, Claudia can't help but think to herself that she's a little bit jealous. Oh, she tries to do things like that. To charm people over to her side, to seduce her dinner the way that Lestat used to do, to dazzle them the way that the Theatre de Vampire excelled at. But at her core, always driving her actions, is this damn body. There are only so many ways a child can manipulate someone and Claudia's exhausted all of them.

When she hears Root leaving the bathroom, Claudia quickly moves to the center of the room, pretending that she absolutely wasn't listening. And then the day gets even weirder when this woman offers to let Claudia finish up.

Hmm. This man really had a list of enemies. She picked a good target: nobody's gonna miss him.

"You can watch if you want," Claudia says, as she heads to the bathroom, curious to see what this woman's answer would be. "He ain't gonna last much longer. His heartrate's already starting to slow."

Root doesn't easily lose track of her objectives. It's one of the things she likes about computers that she sees as faulty coding in people -- they're just so easily distracted and so bad at multi-tasking. But with her mission accomplished, she can absolutely refocus on the fascinating puzzle in front of her, and she gladly accepts the offer. She can figure out how they're exiting safely once the show's over.

"Yes please," Root says pleasantly, stepping to the side to let Claudia enter ahead of her.

Her motive is mainly to see what pieces of this puzzle she can put together through observing. She doesn't mind violence and she doesn't regret the deaths on her conscience, but it doesn't have any particular appeal to her, either. It's just a means to an end. Even so -- heart rate is starting to slow, hm? Is that delusion... or something more? Even delusion would be interesting, of course, but Root already has the suspicion that there's more going on.

Claudia has so far seemed extremely calm herself, perfectly level-headed about the whole affair. This isn't a crime of bewildered passion, nor self-defense, not if she's polite enough to let Root go first with her job before she finishes him off. It's all very rational and considered, which Root finds completely delightful.

So she adds slyly, "I'd love to watch you work."

Edited 2024-07-23 20:26 (UTC)

Claudia makes her way into the bathroom. When he spots her, Jerry's eyes widen with fear. It only lasts for a second as Claudia hisses, extends her fangs, and with supernatural speed, moves to the man's neck and clamps down before he can even attempt to do anything—not that he could in the first place, bleeding out like he is.

Because he is bleeding out. And there's only a few seconds worth of blood, a few seconds worth of draining him, as Claudia feeds, ravenous and hungry and primal. She can sense his heartbeat slowing, she can feel it decrease. She pulls away seconds before the man lets out his final breath, slumping against the ground, dead.

Now back to the more interesting matter at hand. Claudia turns to Root, fully illuminated by the florescent bathroom lights. And now that they don't have a bleeding body between them, a few of Claudia's oddities are apparent. Her eyes are an inhuman amber. Her nails are sharp and glossy, like they're made of glass. And, obviously, she's got her fangs out.

"You probably got questions," she points out, with a little shrug. "Go ahead and ask 'em."

Oh, well then. If it's going to be that obvious, that about shoots her skepticism right out of the water. Root quickly discards her idle musings that Claudia might be delusional; instead, her mind kicks into high gear, whirling with all the possible implications. Her eyes are wide as it sinks in.

She doesn't care about the dead man at all, true to her word, and she's not suddenly afraid, the same way she wouldn't be suddenly afraid of someone simply because they had a gun. Root's aware of the danger, but Claudia's been completely reasonable and even amiable in conversation so far. Rather, Root is fully preoccupied trying to put some pieces together.

"Finding out vampires are real is not what I expected when I woke up this morning," she says slowly, then tilts her head.

Root is perceptive, and she's smart. She knows how to exploit people, which means she knows people, and Claudia's whole attitude doesn't read like a little girl who's just found out she needs blood to survive. Or does she? Do any of the classic myths even apply here? Root certainly does have questions, but she starts with this one:

"You're not a child at all, are you?"

Claudia can't help but give Root a small little smirk of a smile at that. Yeah, finding out vampires are real isn't what most people expect. Not that Claudia knows, of course—her being turned into a vampire wasn't the big romantic sweeping gesture that she suspects it was for Louis and Lestat (or at least, she thinks it wasn't a big romantic sweeping gesture. Second degree burns and being close to death muddled her experience of it a bit.)

But Root's question...that's what draws Claudia's attention. She's smart enough to pick up on that already. Granted, Claudia knows that her behavior hasn't exactly been childlike, but most people wouldn't make that jump so quickly.

"Nope," she says, with a shake of her head. "I'm...probably close to eighty or ninety now." A number that she has very mixed feelings about wanting to admit. "But yeah. I'm a vampire. I feed on blood. And it's always easier to hide the kill if you're feeding off some jackass nobody cares about."

Two to three times her age and unapologetic about what she needs to survive, aside from being a source of secret, rare knowledge, which in itself is tantalizing to her. Root isn't often interested in other people -- sometimes professionally, if she encounters a coder or hacker who can keep up with her level of skill, but rarely ever personally.

Personal interest on Root shines like a megawatt light: harsh, glaring, maybe difficult to operate under, but intensely focused.

"You have to let me pick your brain," she announces with all that beaming intensity. "I'll buy you dinner. Wait, dessert? Is some blood better than others? Do you want a nightcap after your meal?"

There's an onslaught of questions building up, but despite appearances and attitude, Root has never suffered from a lack of emotional intelligence. That's how she's good at manipulating people, that's how she knows she has a scathing distaste for most of them and doesn't lose sleep over the people she puts in the ground or whose lives she ruins. But it also means on the rare occasions she wants to sincerely connect with someone, she knows the right overtures to make.

Wow. This woman is weird.

But she's interesting. So much information has been thrown at her at once: a crime scene, a girl covered in blood, the existence of vampires. And yet this woman's looking at Claudia with interest. She wants to learn more. She's fine with all of this. She's looking at Claudia like an actual person.

It's...nice.

"You gotta let me clean up first," said as she points to her still bloody mouth. "But nah, I don't need dessert. That is, unless you're offering."

She wants to see how far this woman will go. So as she talks, Claudia adjusts her gaze to stare right at Root's neck.

"Flattering as that is," she says in a sweetly apologetic tone, "I don't put out on the first date."

Zero hesitation at deploying innuendo now that she feels confident Claudia is much older than she looks. As an internet native, appearances mean little to her other than a mechanism with which to manipulate others. And she means what she says: Root isn't taking blood drinking off the table, but she doesn't go into risks hastily. She's all eager forward momentum, but it's extremely calculated, deliberate.

Like now.

Offer implicitly accepted, she's already halfway to the door as she chirps, "You clean up and I'll get you those clothes like I offered."

Oh.

She's flirting?

Claudia, who's experience with girls flirting back at her is next to nothing, can't help but feel a little flutter of joy in her heart. Her practical nature wins out (this woman might not be doing anything, don't trust her, no sane person acts like this) but that little buzz of joy will animate her for the next few hours.

"Good thing this guy won't have to worry about his water bill anymore," Claudia lightly teases, before making her way to the bathroom. Might as well enjoy a little luxury and crank up that hot water.

Well, if she's going to imply Root counts as a dessert right after they mercilessly extracted information from and then killed a bad man, she's certainly going to flirt back.

It takes some rapid typing on Jerry's computer while Claudia goes to shower, but she finds a neighbor who has a teenage daughter and whose apartment she's pretty sure is currently vacant thanks to her surveillance takeover on the security guard's computer. She commits some old fashioned breaking and entering to steal some clothes, which she leaves politely just inside the bathroom door. Root doesn't mind crossing boundaries, not at all, but that's not going to get her what she wants in this scenario.

What she wants is information. And maybe a fun night out -- that part remains to be seen.

The clothes she stole for Claudia are pretty plain and nondescript, and when she eventually emerges from the bathroom, Root promptly looks up from Jerry's laptop, executes a final command, and closes it.

"I didn't know what you'd prefer, so I got you something that says unremarkable teenager. Please... call me Root."

When Claudia emerges from the bathroom, she's cleaned up and wearing a bathrobe that is way too big for her (obviously Jerry's) but tied in a way where she's not showing anything inappropriate and only slightly close to tripping over her own feet. Claudia's making her way towards Root to pick up the clothes with an awkward shuffling motion.

"Claudia," she says, with a nod. Root is a remarkably fake name. But who knows, maybe the woman won't ask too many questions and assumes that Claudia's also a fake name. Her nosiness wins out a bit as she looks over at the laptop and asks, "Found what you were looking for?"

Root is, of course, a fake name, but it's also the truest one she can give. It's an indication of the seriousness of her interest that she offers it, since Root has several thoroughly crafted fake identities ready on offer at any given time, complete with documentation. Giving her the name Root means she wants to present herself as she really is -- skills and mess and all.

As for the name Claudia... she doesn't make any assumptions just yet.

"Hmm, mostly," she returns thoughtfully. "I need to confirm what he said before I report it to the client. I'll need more time and a better computer than this junker." She flicks a disdainful look at the laptop. "I'd say I care about my reputation as a contractor, but really, I just don't like being wrong."

Who does?

It's obvious that computers aren't Claudia's strongest suit, the way that she looks at the laptop with a little frown. That's a junker? News to her. She doesn't want to admit that, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow before lightly teasing,

"Well, you'll get a few more minutes while I get changed," she says, as she takes the clothes Root brought her. "Don't think that can do much about the laptop, but you seem like the sort who'll be able to solve that problem back wherever you work. Half ain't bad."

Frankly, Root doesn't expect anyone to compete with her on the basis of computers, so that's of no interest whatsoever. She has a firsthand source on vampires in front of her, and a personable one at that? Maybe all vampires aren't squeamish, but Root has to bet they aren't all this easy to talk to.

"Oh, that's business. I'll finish that later," she assures her with a smirk, settling back against the desk to wait with every appearance of patience, hands gripping the edges. "Trust me, you have my full attention now, Claudia."

Root has her full attention.

When has that ever happened? Lestat and Louis were always focused on the other first. Even when Lestat wasn't there, when it should have just been her and Louis, in swans Armand. For someone who's spent a lifetime as second place, hearing 'you have my full attention' is wonderful.

There's a hint of a smirk on Claudia's face before she teases, "Like I said. After I'm changed." And she heads back to the bathroom in order to do so.

Changing into her new clothes only takes a minute or two: soon enough Claudia's leaving, looking over Root as she points out, "So, go ahead. Ask whatever questions you've got."

After all, it's not like the whole vampire thing is a secret, not now. And again. It's nice to be someone's sole focus.

"That's tough. There's so many places to start."

This is an entirely sincere comment, Root trying to sort through the pile of questions crowding her brain. For all her pessimism and fundamentally bleak outlook on reality, she has a bright spark of curiosity and wonder at finding new boundaries to the universe. It feels something like relief that there might be more out there than she'd ever thought -- because what's out there has so far been terribly disappointing.

She thinks it over as she strides out with Claudia with perfect confidence, her whole attitude that of a casual stroll away from the corpse they're leaving behind. "How lucky did I get meeting you first? Is it ignorant of me to assume vampires tend to be bad conversational partners?"

They seem more likely to dispose of her than put up with her questions, she means. Compliment very much intentionally implied.

"All the vampires I've met have been assholes," Claudia simply responds, with a little shrug. Granted, being an asshole doesn't necessarily mean that they're a bad conversational partner. But it would be so much easier to have a conversation with someone who's not a complete asshole (Lestat) or who spends all his time mooning over his equally asshole partner (Louis) or who would happily feed her to the wolves if it meant he got more time with his asshole partner (Armand).

An entire race of beings out there. And every one of them has absolutely sucked.

"So yeah, I'd say you're pretty lucky." She gives Root a small shrug, trying to seem nonchalant and casual and not secretly more than a little happy that someone, for once in her life, is giving her something as basic as 'their full attention.' "I'm at least willing to answer some questions, y'know?"

It's an interview with a vampire (eyyyyyyy).

"That's what I thought," she says happily, reading between the lines and seeing that Claudia must feel at least somewhat isolated and alone. Vampires are assholes and, well, she already knows regular people are assholes, and likely don't understand or outright freak out on her. Root had been an overly intelligent, overly mature, deeply cynical teenage girl once, but at least she'd gotten to grow up eventually.

Even if she's not really less alone now.

"Can you eat or is it just going to be me having dinner? Just so I know. And you can ask me questions, too, you know. So it feels a little less one-sided."

There's that trace of social awareness again. Root isn't necessarily an open book, but she's more forthcoming than might be expected from someone with a fake name. She isn't ashamed of who she is or what she does; there's just so few people, if any, that she wants to share it with.

"It's just going to be you having dinner. But I don't mind. I've learned how to fake it if needed."

After all, there are times when she's out and about, during those few moments where she thought she could have a normal life, where she had to fake being human. Fake eating, fake conversation, faking her age...it burns at her every time she has to do it, but that's how it is sometimes. That's how it is when you're made like her.

"Why were you here? What were you planning on doing with that asshole?"

Said with a cavalier little nod to Jerry's very dead body.

Root definitely respects a good façade. If Claudia's fine with that, then far be it from her to suggest otherwise. She imagines the social value of sharing a meal together is likely similar for vampires as it is for humans, so it's not like it's pointless. Assuming vampires used to be human, that is.

There's just so many questions. But Root was serious about making it a fairer trade, and she answers easily as they walk out of the apartment and into the hallway.

"Just getting some information out of him, which I did. He had an illegitimate child in his last marriage and his ex-wife wanted to know if there were any others. To set them up with a bank account, not to knock them off, if you can believe that.

"Aren't people funny?"

Claudia trails behind Root, hating how much she knows she looks like a child trailing after her mother. She should look like Root, they should be two women going out for a meal together, like friends (secretly, she hopes they can be friends. Root seems nice. Root treats her like a person). But instead, she is well aware of how juvenile she looks.

At least the conversation is distracting. Because Root's right: people are funny. The idea of someone setting up a bank account for an illegitimate child, who actually cared about relations that weren't hers, is foreign to Claudia. All vampires are assholes. Most people are as well.

"Really makes you wonder what her ulterior motives are," she muses. "People ain't that nice. Not like that."

"Maybe she has some, maybe she doesn't," Root shrugs. "The ratio is skewed, but there are people out there that pull the average to the middle." They can't all be foul caricatures of their species, though she's met plenty of those.

Root sounds perfectly at ease discussing such a weighty topic as they leave, flashing a quick wave and a smile to the security guard on their way out. She spends an inordinate amount of time thinking about deep philosophical questions, especially the relative value of a human life and inherent morality, so she has answers she's already thought of to offer.

"Humanity is such a dismal disappointment because it's possible for us to be better." She turns her smile sidelong at Claudia, knowing. "There's plenty of people no one would miss who deserved it less than Jerry, and who would be a lot less trouble."

But here she is.

It says a lot about Claudia's short life as a human and even longer life as a vampire that she gives Root a skeptical frown as Root mentions that people might be that nice, that the average can be pulled to the middle. Yeah. She doubts it.

Still, Root's already established herself as someone who's a bit unusual. Maybe this is another one of those ways.

"I'm gonna have to take your word on that," she shrugs. "Simply because nobody's ever given me any reason to think differently."

"I'm doing that badly so far, huh?"

Root flashes her an overtly flirtatious smile and picks up speed now that they're out of the building, heels clacking on the sidewalk.

It doesn't seem like she expects a direct answer, because she goes on without pause: "Come on, there's a cute little sushi bar one block over."

Congrats Root: you managed to make Claudia just give the vampire equivalent of a bluescreen. Because that's flirting. She's flirting. There's someone flirting with her.

...she is never going to let this weird white lady go.

Claudia's mood shifts from 'blank and kind of confused staring' to 'equally flirty' as she lightly teases, "Night's still young. We've got plenty of time to see how it'll end." There's a moment before, "You know, I ain't never ate sushi? Back when I still ate food, people would have looked at you like you were crazy if you ate raw fish. I don't know how it even would taste to begin with."

Root can't help it, it's basically compulsive to flirt with violent women, and seeing Claudia tear out a man's throat with her teeth had certainly helped place her in the 'woman' category after learning her real age. She experiences mostly mental rather than physical attraction, anyway. The flirting is fun in its own right, even if it doesn't go anywhere.

"I could describe it to you if that's something you're interested in," she suggests, tone sly. Root reaches up as she walks and pulls the pins out of her hair to let it down from its secretary bob, and it falls down around her face in waves. This part is not intentional flirting; she's just literally letting her hair down since her charade is over with for the evening.

"I also ain't never had anyone describe food to me before," she lightly points out, making sure not to stare as Root's hair cascades across her face. "So you know what? Yeah, I am interested. At least I can tell you if you're good at describing or not."

She's falling into a rhythm with Root. Light teasing, a little banter, going back and forth. It's a light and easyness that Claudia feels comfortable reciprocating, a light back and forth that she knows she can keep up for the rest of the night.

"Really?" she asks, a little incredulous. "After all the food that's come out in the past fifty years -- not even a peach gummy?"

Maybe Root just likes peach gummies. In her opinion, there's very little point to life or existing at all, and if you take the small sensory pleasures away then there's really no point.

"I can guess what that would taste like," Claudia points out, with a little shrug. "I can still smell, after all. But nah. I lived with vampires after a while. It's not like any of them would describe something they can't eat for me."

That's another interesting piece of information, as it implies several things. Claudia seems perfectly amenable to her (human) company, so it's obviously not a fundamental objection to socializing with mortals that is driving her to live with vampires.

Root sweeps into the sushi restaurant and goes through the motions of requesting a table and being guided to sit in it. She has a breezy, easy-going air throughout the social interaction, gliding through it without friction. Once they're seated and alone again, the intensity returns to her face, and she leans in over the table.

"Next question: how'd you end up in Jerry's condo? Do you just test to see who's skeazy with young girls and figure that's one less slimeball the world needs?"

Claudia lets Root do the talking, instead taking in every opportunity, every glimpse of this place she can get. It's her first, and probably her last time visiting a sushi restaurant, after all. Might as well drink it in, see what the fuss is all about. People these days seem to care a lot about sushi, after all.

She slides in a chair across from Root, giving her a little nod. The question, however, elicits a bitter little laugh.

"Guys like that aren't missed. There's always too many of them in the world. Take out one or two, nobody asks too many questions. And guys like that always make themselves obvious."

"There's never a shortage," she agrees pleasantly, with just a slight tinge of a darker undercurrent. "Sometimes the world is a better place with one less person in it."

Their server sweeps by, attentive, and she's instantly back in normalized social mode again.

Root certainly cares about sushi, at least in that she sees no reason to be alive if she's not going to enjoy the little things. Mindful that Claudia is counting on her to salaciously describe what she's eating -- and cultured and familiar enough with Japan to understand that the point of sushi is the subtle differences -- she orders a chef's special, a whole array of sashimi alongside a carafe of sake, with a bright, personable smile.

Once their server leaves, she turns back to Claudia immediately. "I don't think either of us are trying to be a saint, but there's a line. Am I right?"

Probably she should be taking this more casually on a first date, but Root has never understood the meaning of casual in her life. She has a loose sense of morality but, conversely, an oddly strict one. She'll kill whoever needs it for her objective, pragmatically, and she'll lie and cheat and steal, but there are certain things she's never had to question that she won't do. She won't abuse people who don't deserve it, in her estimation. And she would never take advantage of an actual young girl.

Claudia's eyes are sparkling with excitement as the conversation goes on. It's wonderful to have someone who understands her. Who doesn't look at her with the hesitance that Louis did, who doesn't view her as a child the way Lestat always did. This person, this Root, she's seeing Claudia in a light that Claudia hasn't ever been seen in before.

It's nice.

"Some people are scum," Claudia simply responds, with a little shrug. "I'm not gonna say some grand statement of humanity or whatever. But that's just what it is. And I ain't gonna pretend like I haven't drained people who aren't scum before," says the person who's drained a lot of people who weren't scum, "but someone who ain't scum is going to have someone who asks questions. And there's a lot more people asking questions these days."

Frankly, it's rude that she can't just dump a body in the bayou and let the gators take care of it anymore.

Root doesn't exactly socialize conventionally much herself. She's been isolating herself since she left home over a decade ago. It wasn't entirely intentional, but something about her is off, different, unable to meld with most people. Either she's too cynical or she's too smart or she's too obsessive, but there's always something.

So she'd stopped trying, and is honestly nonplussed to stumble into both a supernatural being and an interesting conversational partner all in one. She automatically wants to test the limits here, leans by default into brutal honesty.

"I'm a paid assassin and hacker who specializes in untraceable hits," Root responds without hesitation. "Today's job was a little off the beaten path, but I won't pretend everyone I've hurt deserved it, either." There's a blistering frankness to her demeanor, an utter ownership of the moral depravity of her actions. She has lines, as she'd said, but not enough for most people.

She lets that rest a moment before finishing her thought.

"You know, we could make for a beautiful partnership."

Idly, Claudia can't help but think of Louis. He had so many compunctions about killing people, focusing solely on rats and cats instead, sustaining himself through animals. Even now, with all her years of experience, Claudia never understood that. Why would he limit himself in that way? Why would he deny what he is? She can't help but wonder what she would think of an arrangement like what Root might be suggesting, where he turns what he is against those who are undeserving.

Deserving, undeserving, that doesn't matter to Claudia. What matters is the kill. What matters is keeping herself satiated and fed. And, though she loathes to admit it, having someone in her court would be good. Someone who could do basic things like this time like rent a fucking apartment without being stared at and asked where her mother is. Loathe as she is to admit it, Claudia needs a partner. She was created where she would always need a partner.

And honestly? She's known this weird white lady all of half an hour and she already likes her more than any vampire she's ever know.

"I'd be amenable to a partnership," Claudia admits, giving Root a sly little smile as they talk. "Paid assassin like yourself's competent enough as is, but I'm sure you wouldn't mind someone watching your back."

Over the past couple decades, since that day that proved a turning point in her childhood, Root hasn't stopped believing that it matters who gets hurt but she's given up on following that through for the most part. Certain things still hit her too strongly to ignore -- ironically, hurting young girls is one of those things -- yet over time it's seemed increasingly like no one else is following the rules, so why should she?

"I can be limited working alone," she agrees. "Usually I hire someone if I need an extra set of hands, but it's nothing like having someone I trust." Not that she's saying she trusts her already, but partnership means trust, and she's open to it growing into that place for them.

She has to pause briefly as the server sets down two waters and the carafe of sake, and Root starts pouring for herself.

"We could try it for a while, see how it goes." She won't admit she's been hideously lonely for a long time, but she has been for so long, and it makes her cautious and wondering about the possibility of breaking that status quo. "You have to eat, I like to keep busy, and I'm very good at making sure no one gets caught. Plus -- " Root grins fiendishly. "I bet no one takes you seriously."

So many amazing possibilities for cover identities and scams and making stupid people pay for their assumptions.

Claudia doesn't bother to hide the tinge of bitterness in her laugh as she points out, "People look at me and they don't think 'capable.' They've been judging me by how I look my entire life."

Even the vampires, people who know her true age, judge her. After all, she's still too small. Too weak. She couldn't create a fledgeling even if she wanted to, there's just not enough of Claudia, even though she feels like she's bursting at the seams by simply existing.

"But yeah. I'd be up for trying this if you are."

Claudia also won't admit that she's been hideously lonely, that she's been keeping it to herself, that she's willing to try anything, even including partnering with a woman she barely knows but has a potential of hope. She'll keep that a secret.

Root can understand that bitterness, at least to a certain extent. She's such a capable assassin because when she takes on a role she embodies it fully, and so few people imagine a thin pretty woman is capable of violence. She's made her peace with it, though, by owning it entirely, using it mercilessly to her advantage.

"We can use that," she assures her eagerly. "If you're stuck with it, we should take advantage of it. I have so many ideas."

She really does. Root doesn't know how this will pan out -- she's not banking on anything, not truly tying her hopes to anything -- but it sure sounds like it'll be fun.

After dinner (during which Root did indeed describe her sushi, less salaciously and more thoughtfully) they exit the restaurant and stand on the sidewalk in an odd version of post-date standing around while they wordlessly assess what to do next. Root makes a snap decision to part ways because she is now itching to do a ton of hacking to see what she can find about the existence of vampires. How could she have missed this before? What's going on there?

"What's your preferred contact method? Normally I'd say I'll find you, but I don't know if vampires use email."

She's adjusted fast, that's for sure.

Claudia pays attention at Root describes her sushi, taking in every small, every little detail. She listens intently, nodding at Root, wide eyed expression. Because this is interesting. The idea of eating raw fish never occurred to her while she was alive so hearing this talk, hearing this description, it's interesting.

She listens for their entire dinner. As they exit the restaurant, at Root's question, Claudia frowns. She's sure some vampires use email. But she's never really seen the use of it.

That being said,

"I've got a smartphone," Claudia points out. "We can exchange numbers if you want. Seems easy enough."

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