“I’m not dragging your sorry ass home if you get too drunk to walk,” ash tells a particularly ghoulish patron sitting at his bar right before taking the scotch they’d been working on. he lowers his voice and leans in just a little, “and stop all that talk about alyson ---- before you get questioned like the rest of us. now get out of here!”
being a vampire always meant suspicion around here, but the looks of cross judgment and general distaste amplified once the town feds caught wind that the victim visited his apartment the night before she died. when the ghoul leaves, ash begins wiping down the bar with a rag ------ doesn’t even look up when he hears bells on the door alert him of someone’s entry. “sorry, we’re closing up.”
