First Entry: Here's the World War I Flying Ace...

[bigblacknose]

The door swings open, and an oddity walks into the Bar.

It's a bipedal dog of some kind, wearing an early-model aviator's helmet and scarf.  He pushes his goggles up as he slows to a stop, realizing that no, this is not the small French cafe that he was supposed to be walking into.

On the other hand, it certainly appears to be some kind of bar, and

Comments

[fiery_ring]

Carlotta, up on the rafters, peers down at the dog curiously.

He's sort of cute, though a little odd looking.

[bigblacknose]

And the dog looks up at the human in the rafters. Not the usual place to find a human.

(It would be a good place to find a vulture, though. He makes a mental note of that for the future.)

He waves hello.

[fiery_ring]

Carlotta waves back, and drops down.

"Hallo."

[bigblacknose]

The beagle... doesn't speak, exactly. The Bar's translation field has apparently decided to get cute, and simply conveys understanding of his barks and body language without rendering them as speech.

He introduces himself as Major Snoopy D. Hill of the Royal Naval Air Service, and wonders how he wound up in the wrong bar.

[rookiebuster]

Since he's still new to the bar, there's alot that can take him off guard. This fellow in a Ghostbuster jumpsuit is drinking coffee at the moment...then chances to look over his shoulder and immediately chokes on his drink.

WHAT?!

Coughing, he keeps his eyes on the Beagle from his seat at the bar, just staring for a moment, looks at his coffee in wonder, then shakes his head. He's seen worse, seriously.

[bigblacknose]

Snoopy looks behind him, concerned that the guy who looks like some sort of high-tech janitor might have seen the Red Baron sneaking up.

Apparently not, must be him then. Do they not get many beagles in this bar?, he wonders aloud.

[rookiebuster]

Well, nobody said there was a policy against animals in the bar. Still, this one was clearly not the normal variety. Good thing he wasn't wearing his pack now. That might give the guy a shock.

"Ummm...hi. How goes it?"

He's not sure what 'it' is yet, though.

[bigblacknose]

The beagle allows that it could have gone better, what with having accidentally shot his own biplane out of the sky that morning and subsequently pushing it a mile back to base on a muddy road. Finding himself in entirely the wrong bar, somehow, is just the icing on the cake.

(All of this somehow conveyed with body language and barks, mind you.)

And how has his day been?

[renegade_enzo]

Dogs are not exactly a common type of sprite where he comes from, but he's seen enough of them to know that no dog walks on its hind legs.

This is clearly a dog. And it's walking on its back legs.

So weird.

Therefore the flying ace is going to be stared at in Matrix's odd-eyed manner.

After losing an eye in a Game, it's the only kind of stare he can do.

[Jazzed on caffeine I need an outlet tonight. This will do.]

[bigblacknose]

For his part, the dog has never seen a green-skinned human before. Assuming this fellow is human; his scent is... more like ozone?

Could be a German spy, but spies aren't supposed to be that obvious. Maybe a mime in unusual face paint?

Who might this person be, the dog inquires, and might he know what happened to the cafe that was here yesterday?

[renegade_enzo]

Actually, he shouldn't have a detectable scent at all, to organics. Matrix can't smell the dog, after all.

Now, as for the human part? Well. No, he's not. Human is only a semblance here. Just the way his data arranges itself, for want of a better descriptor. And as far as Germany goes, well, he'd be pretty damn old if he was from the dog's time period, wouldn't he? The internet is just getting started, and is a long way from becoming a household word to most of humanity.

"I'm Matrix. A sprite. And I don't know what became of the place you were going to. I don't exactly wander beyond the perimeters of this place or my home."

That only ends in a cessation of existence, there.

[bigblacknose]

The dog introduces himself as Major Snoopy D. Hill of the Royal Naval Air Service.

A sprite? he wonders. It's a word he's used to associating with fairies and pixies and creatures that are in general a good deal smaller than the green man, but expressing that part out loud might be undiplomatic.

So the next question to ask is, what exactly is this place? It doesn't seem to belong in a small village in France, at all.

[mandercommander]

A teenager sitting at a table near the door notices that the door just opened and closed. This gets a glance, seeing as he didn't notice someone either coming or going. Thus, Bonzo looks down and sees...a dog walk in.

On two feet. Blink.

Who let the dog out?

"Uh, hi there."

Were he new to the Bar, Bonzo would be staring. Instead, he's just making a note of the walking dog and nodding like this is nothing new.

(OOC: Yeah, I'm tagging and likely slowtiming. Sorry for not hitting the thread earlier, but I'm curious to 'meet' Snoopy...and I do hope to continue at your convenience.)

[bigblacknose]

The Flying Ace returns the greeting, looking around this unusual bar as if it were the most usual thing in the world for him. He is more than a bit puzzled, but it wouldn't do to show it -- stiff upper lip and all that.

(ooc: It's a good time for me to slowtime as well, more tomorrow? Or possibly Monday at the latest.)

[mandercommander]

Alright, a talking walking dog.

Actually, he knows he didn't hear talking, but he can get a sense of understanding out of it...even if it was just a greeting.

"Welcome to Milliways. My name is Bonzo Madrid." He extends a slightly bewildered handshake. He's trying his best not to look bewildered at this latest twist with the Bar's translation abilities.

[bigblacknose]

The dog shakes his hand, and introduces himself as Major Snoopy D. Hill of the Royal Naval Air Service. (It's very sophisticated body language.)

And how did this Milliways manage to replace his favorite cafe, he wonders?