[Locked] and we can do this until we pass out.

[halfhuman_hero]

 [OOC: PRETEND THIS IS FRIDAY. :|]

Another Friday night in Chicago and Doyle has plans.

He is sat by himself in at the bar of The Crowbar. He likes this place, mainly because it’s Supernatural friendly. There’s also a good atmosphere to the place at on the weekend nights, he loves it. It also plays decent music too.

Tonight’s the first time Doyle’s

Comments

[isaywe_party]

Buffy doesn't really drink much. She can't get drunk, she doesn't really like the taste, and the last time she got drunk, there were kittens to liberate.

But it has been a long night of patrolling, and she is ready to relax a bit. So she wanders into the Crowbar to take a load off for a bit, and happens to spot a familiar face at the bar. Their previous encounters had been a bit ... awkward, but she figures that now is probably the best time to rectify that. She makes her way closer and slides onto the bar stool next to him, before flashing him a smile.

"Come here often?"

[halfhuman_hero]

Doyle smiles brightly, he's not seen Buffy in a while. Most people haven't. If it's not the Rift messing about with him, he's usually in pubs most people don't go. He is almost like a ninja. But not really.

"Alrigh' there, Buffy?" he says cheerfully.

He takes another swig of his beer and looks about the place once more.

"I think it's gonna be the new haunt, really," he says with a nod, "Nice place, ain't it?"

He rummages in his jacket for his wallet, "What're ya havin'?"

[isaywe_party]

Doyle would probably make the best ninja. That's just Buffy's humble opinion, but she stands by it. She turns her eyes to the rows of liquor bottles, trying to decide what she actually wants.

"You know, I'm not really that big a drinker. I mean, I can drink, but I don't really do it that often." She glances over at his glass. "What are you having?"

[halfhuman_hero]

Doyle certainly appreciates that, Buffy. It makes him feel cool.

He raises his eyebrows in surprise at that, "Wha? Really? But you're meant t'be the Slayer. That should give you a wicked tolerance to alcohol, or somethin', surely," he laughs, "We should test it! Only right, y'know,"

"Ah, just beer," he says, raising his glass, "Can't go wrong, really,"