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

[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?

[rookiebuster]

Somehow, this is understood by the Rookie. Let's just hope he doesn't sound like a Peanuts adult in return. He could appreciate the wrong bar problem, though.

"My day? I got chased by books and caught a ghost."

Not the best day ever, but things are looking up.

[bigblacknose]

Even if he did, Snoopy speaks fluent trombone.

There are ghosts now? As if the poor blighters in the trenches didn't have it bad enough already. Curse this stupid war.

[rookiebuster]

"Not a war ghost, though I've been through a haunted civil war exhibit. Sort of a...floating monster-thing."

For those of you keeping notes, he's referring to the Class-V Telekinetic Animator from the EP. Both it and the trap it's caught in are out of sight.

[bigblacknose]

The dog is beginning to think they're talking at cross purposes. Surely there aren't any civil war exhibits in town?

...Then he notices the window, and begins to think that maybe he's not in the town he thought he was in.

Just where is this bar exactly, he wonders?

(And the mun cannot yet afford to play the game, sadly, nor is he entirely certain his laptop can handle it.)

[rookiebuster]

(Find a friend who's got it!)

"The bar? It's kind of...at the end of everything."

He only recently had this explained to him.

"It's a bar that watches the end of the universe happen."

[bigblacknose]

Now that's a hell of a floor show, the dog must admit. And an interesting method of recruiting patrons, if it can just grab people walking through any old door.

...But he's been forgetting his manners. The beagle introduces himself: Major Snoopy D. Hill of the Royal Naval Air Service... and, since time and place would seem significant here, France, early spring of 1917.

[rookiebuster]

"1917? Really? Well, I'm-"

He stops when he points to his badge. Dammit, why couldn't they give him a proper nametag?

"I'm a Ghostbuster, their Experimental Equipment Technician. Basically, I'm the one who has to test out the new equipment every time Egon makes something new."

[bigblacknose]

Yes, he's been flying a Sopwith Camel for the Allied Nations for several months now.

Professional ghost hunters, eh? That sounds like a job he'd enjoy, if it weren't wartime.

(You can almost see the gears turning in his head: "Here's the world-famous Ghostbuster hunting his elusive prey...")

[rookiebuster]

"Mhmm, professional's pushing it, actually. I'm the newest part of the team. A little training and alot of crisis. But the pay is nice. A healthy dose of cash and weirdness to fill my day."

Rookie's not really qualified to take on an apprentice. That's sort of what HE is to Ray.

[bigblacknose]

A lot of crisis, that sounds like his line of work. Going up against the Luftstreitkräfte on a daily basis is what they call a high-risk high-reward profession.

Especially if the Flying Circus is hogging your airspace.

[rookiebuster]

"Sometimes work is a flying circus, the way it goes. Dunno if I'll actually try to fly. The closest thing I ever got to that was dangling like bait over a giant walking marshmellow."

Just another screwed up day at the office.

[bigblacknose]

Now that's a counterintuitive situation if the beagle ever heard one. He's tried using marshmallows for bait on fishing trips, but never the reverse.

And what could motivate a marshmallow to get up and walk around? Revenge for a million roasted brothers?