Thomas
Ike felt terrible.

No. More than terrible. Feeling terrible implied that he was incorrect. Ike knew in his soul, in every fibre of his very being, that he was a *Monster*. Whether he liked it or not he was a monster.

Ike Horowitz was going to Hell.

The worst part was that Ike deserved it. He knew that. God didn't judge sins by severity, or intent, or amount. One sin was just as bad as a thousand sins, and Ike Horowitz had killed someone during the last full moon. Murder.

The First Commandment was `'Thou Shalt Not Kill'`. Ike couldn't say that he had followed that. He stumbled on God's very first instruction. For that he was going to burn.

"Can I-" Ike put a hand to his chest and paused to let a wave of nausea pass. "-get another?"

Ike pushed his glass to the bartender, and watched as he poured another glass of alcohol. Another sin to add to the tally. Why not? Ike knew that He would forgive drinking alcohol, but He would not forgive murder. So why not drink until he couldn't remember the horrors?

If anything, Ike deserved this. The brief respite that alcohol gave, however pained his chest still felt from guilt. Once his drink was handed over, Ike paid for it and gave a little extra.

"Take it. It's yours," Ike said, "Buy something nice... For your loved ones."

*Any you may have left, after the rampage.*

Ike took a big gulp of his drink, and tensed up in his seat. He groaned, and shook his head. The alcohol burned going down, but once it got to his stomach Ike got a rush. A warming feeling that made him feel just a little better.

This. This good feeling. This brief happiness. This is what Ike knows he does not deserve.
John
The moon was over, and everything was different now. JD had been more scared before of one of his loved ones turning into a werewolf and getting killed for being one, now he knew more than ever that he had to worry more about them dying at the hands of a werewolf. 

Addie had been someone that over the years he had learned to love like a sister. When the news came, he didn't even know what to think, how to think and he hoped to God it was another one of his nightmares but it wasn't. It was all so real. 

He had spent his time with Dallas, trying his best to comfort him, but neither of the men were good with that kind of thing, so eventually when giving Dallas time alone to grieve the first thought he had was he needed a drink, or two, or three, or more. 

So he headed to the place that was becoming more and more his favorite place to be, the speakeasy, and had been downing drinks. On his fourth drink, he looked over at the man next to him, and he could tell that he was upset too,. The moon must have been bad to him too. 

He wasn't much one for talking, but he cleared his throat. "Rough night?" He asked looking at the other as he took a sip of his shine, his speech slightly slurred from the alcohol he had already chugged down so far, he was sure tis would not be his last drink of the night.
Thomas
Ike looked up at the man next to him. He didn't like idle chatter, even at the best of times, but alcohol loosened him up. Just as it did anyone.

At least that, somehow, was a silver lining. The fact that Alcohol changed him. Socially lubricated his brain. He was still human... If only halfway.

"Yes." Ike replied. It came out as more of a pronounced grunt, but the essence of a 'yes' was present. "I s'pose it is. The... Full moon was not kind to anyone."

Ike had heard of the wounded. The sick. Among them was someone that he met, if only briefly. Someone he knew because of how much she meant to Owen... That was the thing that really tore him up inside. Ike had no idea what he did, or if he even committed any act of atrocity... But the chance was there.

"W'bout you?" Ike asked. He looked over to JD. "M'name is Ike, by th'way."
John
He nodded, "Never is." He said as he looked down at his drink, taking a small sip. "Worst time of the month.. Every month.. Can't imagine.. It's only gonna get worse from here." He said, his words seeming jumbled, it was clear that beyond the obvious drunkness that JD was not quite all there. 

"My friend died.." He said quietly when the other asked him, "So it's a rough night, yeah." He said as he looked over at him, and held out his hand to shake the others. 

"JD.. My name is JD.." He said as he looked at him and studied him for a moment. "Yer the one that works with all them dead people yeah? You get them ready to be buried?" He asked arching a brow. 

He looked as if he was studying him, "That hard? I mean.. Havin' ta see people like that?" He supposed it was the drink making him talk, or maybe he just didn't want too much time to think.
Thomas
Ike took in a breath when JD mentioned his friends untimely death. That's what it was. __Untimely__. They would always be considered 'taken before their time' when it was a *Monster* That took them. Ike sipped his drink, eyes downcast though his attention was otherwise still on JD.

When the topic of his job came up, Ike finally looked up at JD's eyes.

"No." Ike shook his head. "I like it. Not cus'a the dead people, but cus'a the things I can learn from 'em... Helps other people."

Ike shrugged. He took a long sip of his drink. He thought of Owen again, which wasn't entirely uncommon these days. Isaac Horowitz thought of Owen often, but prior to the latest full moon he used to think fondly of the man. Now? Now, Ike only thought of one thing.

"Someone I know has a mom tha'was hurt... Owen. Y'know'im?" Ike's words were slurring, but the words came out so much easier than usual. JD seemed nice, and they shared in their grief... At the very least, maybe it would make JD feel better.
John
He nodded as the other spoke about his job, and he listened, looking down at his drink and taking a few sips as he spoke. He supposed it made sense, JD wouldn't like that job he didn't think. He didn't handle stuff like that well, but he could see how it would make you feel like you were helping people. 

"That's nice.. I'm glad we got someone who cares takin' care of our dead." He said with slurred speech. "You be sure to take good care of Addie Sinclair.. She was a real special lady." He said running a hand through his hair. 

At the question, he paused and she shook his head. "I don't know mucha anyone really.. I got only a couple friends in my time here.." He said with a sigh. "But I ain't mind it like that." He said as he tapped his finger on the bar for a moment. 

"You know I was one of them people who spoke up in favor of the werewolves.. I killed that first one. Sheriff Rowe, I killed him and I watched him turn human an' everything.. And I thought to myself.. Who am I, a murderer, to convict another murderer to death?" He shook his head. 

"But I change my mind now, I say convict them and me along with them if they have to, but people can't keep fuckin' dyin'.." He paused, 

"You're a real nice man."