Rookies, newbies, New Feathers. Lend me your livers. And also possibly your ears.

I'm Buffy Summers and I'm spamming your journals today to tell you about Good Spirits. Which is a bar. Which is in the plaza. And it's a bar that's co-tended by me, and Zack Fair, Meryl Strife, and Shizuo. I know some other hot-spots have recently opened up but I can assure you that if you want some good old pubby atmosphere and even better booze, we're your spot.

[ a pause. this is harder than she thought -- last time, at least, she was pretty happy when she did her advertising shtick. today she is simply trying to keep it together. ] We're also happy to mix you some non-alcoholic magic, too. And give us a shout if you have any particular beverage-y dietary needs. [ and, as ever, just don't ask for human blood. she will flip you and your table. ]

Also? Be sure to order the McCoy. Think of it as a signature drink. I'll be here till about eleven, if you want to come give it a try.

Oh and...Winry? Do you have a sec?

[ so buffy is bar-bound on this fine day. come bug her, break her brittle anxious shell of coping, or just get drunk.

at around eleven she'll hand the shift off and hoof it directly to the treehouse. she doesn't stop by the house to get changed or drop off her purse or collect a weapon or pass go or collect two hundred dollars.

she simply takes a deep breath and climbs. ]