First Entry: Here's the World War I Flying Ace...
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 the possibility of root beer exists.
The Beagle has landed.
[ooc: Expect random slowtimes throughout the day, as the mun has toothache and is strung out on Vicodin. n.n;]
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 the possibility of root beer exists.
The Beagle has landed.
[ooc: Expect random slowtimes throughout the day, as the mun has toothache and is strung out on Vicodin. n.n;]