milliways_bar | (no subject)

When you're an experienced and highly-trained Middleman you learn to notice little things like single cardboard boxes in the middle of a massive and otherwise-empty warehouse. Especially when those boxes are ominously lit by spotlights hidden somewhere in the ceiling. Sort of makes things stand out.

And when you stumble upon something that suspicious, you don't just leave it where you found it. Doing so virtually guarantees that some normal will find the thing, open it, and wreak unwitting havoc upon the world. Middleman lore actually had very few such incidents recorded. The Pandora Incident had been enough to get pretty much every subsequent Middleman on-board with the "pick it up and have it tested" solution to ominous boxes.

All of this serves to explain why the Middleman is carrying an unassuming cardboard box (with a helpful set of "this end up" arrows stenciled on it, which he was, of course, obeying) as he walks into the bar. "Ida, I need you to get started on this analysis right away. I think we may be dealing with a..." His voice trails off and he frowns slightly.

Oh, Milliways. That's a bit inconvenient, really, you know what they say: all work and no play makes a Middleman grouchy and liable to miss something important since he's liable to be focused on how stressed out he is. (It is precise words of wisdom such as this that help equip a Middleman to face the truth of the world.)

So the Middleman shrugs and walks over to the bar. By the time he sets his box on the wooden surface, a tall glass of cool, refreshing milk is waiting for him. He smiles; Bar is very helpful that way.

Now, when you're an experienced and highly-trained Middleman you learn not to open suspicious-slash-mysterious boxes. In fact, even if you're an inexperienced and mostly-untrained Middleman you learn not to do so after opening no more than two such suspicious-slash-mysterious boxes. Of course, when you're an experienced and highly-trained Middleman, you also know that it's not really your fault when an alien artifact, or an object of magical power, or high-tech pheromone emitter overrides your natural good sense and you do something that, in ordinary circumstances, would be what is generally considered to be a Bad Idea.

The Middleman drinks half of his milk before reaching over to peel open the cardboard flaps at the top of the box to reveal... Fortune cookies.

As everyone knows, taking mysterious objects out of mysterious boxes is an even worse idea than opening said mysterious boxes in the first place, but before the Middleman can even think the thought he has one in his hand, he's cracking it open, and he's reading the words on the little piece of paper within.

Be careful not to forget anything today.

Being an experienced and highly-trained Middleman does have some perks. One of those perks is that you recognize the feeling of some sort of force interfering with fate. Sometimes this can help you prevent that interference. The Middleman jumps up and rushes for the door. What was it he forgot? Did he remember to turn off the lights when he left the house this morning? Did he leave the oven on? Did he forget to lock the doors of the Middlemobile?

The half-finished glass of milk and the mysterious box of fortune cookies remain behind, simply sitting there for a couple of minutes. When it becomes apparent that the Middleman won't be returning for them, they disappear; Bar is very helpful that way.

[tinytag: Plot: Misfortune Cookies]

[ooc: And so it begins! This post is mostly for people to react if they want, but the Middleman will be back later, probably looking for his fortune cookies.]