TWO SHOTS OF VODKA // GHOST

[EDEN.]

[align=center][div style="max-width:500px;font-size:9.2pt; text-align:justify"]Edee didn't know if he'd already had enough wine to start seeing things or if the spectral figure was actually real. He spent a good minute staring, catching flies with his mouth ajar, because when he thought of ghosts and shit, he usually expected something vengeful, maniacal, a little bloodthirsty. Not an old lady smiling at him with a lascivious glint in her eye. Or maybe that was just the catch of the light. How the hell would he know? Vampirism did not grant him with the ability to know everything, otherwise, he would be pulling shit on Onision, not sitting here drinking up his mother's good wine. Honestly, he didn't know what the hell to do.

"Uh, heyo ghostie." He made to scratch an ear, but misjudged either distance or where it was because he smacked himself in the face instead. Once upon a time that could sober him up. Sobering up now required two weeks in a hole in the ground tied and bound with seven kinds of knots. "Are you real?"

"Aren't you just adorable." Hoo-kay then. He was getting creepy grandma vibes now. Like someone else's grandma trying to get frisky levels of creepy. Edee eyed her as she floated closer. He wasn't gonna lie- he was nervous. "I could just eat you up." Red flags, anyone? God, this was probably past red flags. This was at the "hitting people with frying pans until they noticed" stage.

"Please don't. I've got...things to live for. Like more wine. Bourbon. Whiskey. Liquor. My buddy moonshine. Rum. Vodka. Hell, champagne."

"You know your stuff, don't you? I like a well-learned boy."

"Oh no I'm dumb. Rocks have more brain activity." She wasn't taking the hint. Wasn't like he could throw the bottle at her, because 1) she was a ghost, it probably wouldn't do shit, and 2) it wasn't empty. He wasn't wasting good wine.

Edee supposed he could always run. Maybe. He wasn't at that level of functionality.