Robert’s Monday night odd encounter(Robert)

July 8, 2025

Date: 2025-07-07 02:39

(Robert’s Monday night odd encounter(Robert):Robert)

[Mon Jul 7 2025]

In Union Wharf Storage/span>/span60F(15C) degrees. The mist is heaviest At Maple and Sidney/span>/spanLuka is sitting on a crate in an abandoned warehouse with a set of binoculars, scoping out the mist covered park whilst chewwing on some kind of food-bar

(Your target discovers a cursed object in an antique shop that begins to warp reality around them, creating increasingly dangerous manifestations until they can figure out how to break its hold or return it to its proper resting place.)

Luka is sitting on a crate in an abandoned warehouse with a set of binoculars, scoping out the mist covered park whilst chewwing on some kind of food-bar (Repost)

Silas crouch-sneaks up behind Luka from somewhere, upnodding him once he’s close enough to whisper. “What we eyin'”

Merrek zips up his pants, looking around confused as if he thought he would be alone here. Awkward.

Luka almost jumps as he’s snuck up on, relaxing once he sees who it is “Fuckin’ hell Sil'” Luka cackles as he lowers down the binoculars and adjusts himself in the seat after his jump. “Just keepin’ our eyes out for opportunity” Luka tells Silas “Could be a monster we could jump, could be someone we could save from the mist to press a favor out of, could be an opp we’re gunna beat the fuck down” Luka continues, his speech slowing down as he looks over to Merrek with a frown “You doing alright over there, Geet?” Luka attempts

Silas looks over to Merrek and snorts. “Well fancy meetin’ ya here. Mebbe we get some of that sudo ya were lookin’ for ey,”, he mentions over to the lunatic, before his gaze goes forward again.

Through the narrow slit of partially-boarded up windows, through the darkness, thick ritualist-created mist malingered, curling between streetlamps like restless smoke. Across the street, lights flickered in a building that shouldn’t have any from where Luka is situated.

The antique shop.

Supposed to be shuttered years ago. Windows cracked. Sign faded. Still had the same crooked open sign, swaying gently, even though no one ever saw anyone unlock the door. But tonight… the lights were on.

Luka could just make out movement. A shape passed by the display window. Fast, indistinct, like the shadow of someone not quite there. Something glinted on the counter.

While Merrek and Silas all bantered together, the warehouse only having a few flickering bulbs that provided the dimmest of light, the occasional squeak of a mouse or – to the truly well-conditioned – the soft movements of small spiders and other crawling things in the night, the ecosystems of buildings, no matter how abandoned. There’s the subtle creak, the hum of electronics, mingled up with the clop-clop of the occasional horse riding outside with a vehicle rumbling slow. Either someone brave or with a sufficiently reliable vehicle, the very intermittent traffic of this town.

“Maaan..” Merrek looks bewilderedly between Silas and Luka, arranging his eyebrows into a cocked formation. “I was just tryin’ to whack it. Fuckin’ weirdos. Diddy party?” He suggests at random, clearly high out of his mind.

Luka lifts up the binoculars once more, scoping out the antique shop and observing the movements. He keeps watching for a few seconds before giving himself a satisfied nod “That’ll do it …” Luka murmurs to himself, considering his search finished as he kicks himself up to his feet. “No diddy party today, Geet.” Luka tells Merrek with a grin before nodding to the duo “We’re checking out that antique shop. Keep your eyes open, and” He looks back to Merrek “Keep that wrench close to hand” Luka tells the man, giving a swipe through the air with his hand as he marches out the door and starts crossing through the mists at a low crouch …

Silas sniffs loudly as he watches Luka sneak and looks to someone. “Man maybe ya can whack some heads inna bit here ’cause I dunno how we gonna get close without makin’ noise,”, he says, before crouching down himself and using the mist, hopefully, as a decent enough shield for his lack of stealth.

Silas sniffs loudly as he watches Luka sneak and looks to Merrek. “Man maybe ya can whack some heads inna bit here ’cause I dunno how we gonna get close without makin’ noise,”, he says, before crouching down himself and using the mist, hopefully, as a decent enough shield for his lack of stealth.

Merrek just starts rolling up to whatever equivalent of a front door would have, holding a six foot pry bar in hand. The intent is clear.

A second look through the binoculars once more reveals the target to Luka on the counter. A mirror, maybe six inches across, mounted in a chipped black frame carved with swirls that seemed to squirm in and out of alignment. There was a tag tied to one corner.

“Do Not Touch.”

Not that any of this group, Silas, Luka, or Merrek were inclined to take any of those suggestions.

The mist grips tighter as the trio slip out the warehouse door, crouched low in theory if not in actual practice. Silas steps on a branch. Luka kick a can, sounding even louder as it’s sent aclattering over there. A CRUNCH of a bit of gravel that sounds like a gunshot in the fog beneath Silas’s feet.

Across the street when they finally arrive, the antique shop squats between two empty storefronts. Its display window is caked in grime, light leaking from within like someone’s burning a candle behind thick skin. The warped lettering on the glass barely reads “Beaumont’s Curiosities.”

All seems to be going well, no call of alarm, no mewling of police sirens. And yet.

Inside, something flickers.

Just for a second.

Then all the lights go out.

And there it is again. That black mirror. Resting the counter, upright, now, it’s gleam shining on Merrek and Silas and Luka as they break in through the flimsy boarded-up door, the wood nailed over the top more of an impediment to Merrek than the rotten hinges.

Funny, Merrek brought the perfect tool for something like that! It’s like he breaks into misty shitholes every day, or something. Not legally speaking, of course. He’s innocent. The iron gets shafted into the first board, and it seems like he expects little resistance out’ve the ordeal.

Luka steps back to let Merrek geeter his way into the building, folding his arms over his chest as the boards are pried out. He gives the man a nod as he finishes and leads the way into the building, a confident grin on his face despite the obvious creepiness of the situation, or multiple reasons he’s been thus given to turn back and never come here ever again. “Alright.” Luka mentions to the other two, nodding to the mirror “That looks like it’s worth something. Let’s snatch it.” Luka tells them, looking to Silas as he lets him do the honors …

Silas curses, grumbles, and curses more and under his breath at all the ruckus he managed to do while crouched up and, realising that Merrek just blew past them anyway, follows him along towards the door. “Yeh, looks valuable,”, he offers in response to Luka as he lets the latter get to work while he waits just behind.

Luka would walk up to the mirror himself and attempt to snatch it as Silas, quite understandably, didn’t seem to want to

Wood splinters and shatters underneath Merrek’s oh-so-innocent tools of B&E and inhuman strength, leaving a mess on the ground and the gaping maw of the doorway ready and willing for them to go in. Despite what they saw earlier, the lights, the shapes – this building looks equally abandoned as the warehouse they were in. No; worse. The warehouse was at least owned by someone. Crates would, occasionally, once every so often, enter and leave.

This place? It reeks of rot, of old pipes and rust left to still, with no maintenance done and open spots of moldering where dampness leaked through the roof. Not a sign of power and old-fashioned gas lamps and candle stubs. Cold from one end to the other.

And yet there is that valuable mirror. Black. Pristine. Easily snatched up. Luka’s own reflection smiling back at him. But it’s oddly distorted. The eyes are slightly too narrow, the grin slightly too wide.

And it’s heavier than it looks, taking more than a little effort for Luka to lug upwards and pry away from the counter.

Then the shop changes. Not violently.
The dust is gone.
The cobwebs vanish.
The display cases are filled.
The shelves are clean.

But the front door? Still busted.
The windows? Still caked in grime.

From somewhere deeper inside, a chime rings. Not electronic. Not mechanical.
More like a tone struck inside a hollow bone.

“Fuck me, this thing is heavy.” Luka groans, stumbling back a few steps as he holds the mirror, larger than he’d thought, in his arms “Geet, do me a favor and carry this will’ya?” Luka asks the 7ft Merrek, passing the mirror over to him before his head snaps in the direction of the chime. “Oh … There might be more in here …” Luka murmurs under his breath as the opportunity to commit more crime is given to him. “Let’s go further in …”

Pipes? PIPES?! LEAD?? COPPER??? Merrek doesn’t give a shit about the mission or whatever, he’s sizing the place up in terms of exact weight and scrap value. Without any sentiment of mystique about it, he tries to pull the first thing he can reach out of the wall.

Merrek looks over his shoulder after a moment. Right, yeah, the mission. “Jus’… gimme a minute here. You got a bag???”

Luka pulls out a duffel bag and opens it up, throwing it open at Merrek’s feet in perfect position to have copper stuffed into it!

Silas has to squint involuntarily at the changes in his surroundings, but, scoffs after a second. “Was guessin’ pickin’ that thing up was gonna do somethin’, sorry boss,”, he offers with a shrug with two palms up. In contrast to Luka though, he ends up looking towards the still-broken door, sneering. “Ya sure about that? All this stuff weren’t here before, shit could be a fuckin’ illu-” And Merrek begins to rip the place apart, so he sighs and just watches for now, reserving the right to react quickly for whatever may come out of it.

Luka has too busy lifting the mirror with his face pressed up against it trying to not fucking drop the thing to notice the environment changing! Once he does though, he glances around with a frown “Maybe the stuff before was the illusion?” Luka asks Silas with a shrug

Fog clouds the mirror as Luka handles it, the whole thing feeling like it was made completely of lead and stone. Honestly, it might be, given how it looks. Obsidian and all. Pipes tear under his hand in sudden, sickening -crunch-. And then there’s a foul smell and a hissing of gas, the flow of utilities abruptly turned on from before.

The fog in the mirror continues to spread. A slow, circular sweep like something inhaling just behind the glass.
someone Then, across the inner surface, a pattern begins to form. Like condensation gathering into writing. Jagged, almost runic at first, then shifting into letters the mind recognizes just a moment too late.

BRING IT BACK.

The words hang for secondsthen melt. Run like ink in hot water. The mirror vibrates, subtly but enough to rattle the wood of the counter. Behind the glass, for a heartbeat, something movestall, long-limbed, hunched against the curvature. Its face presses close.
Not human.
Not quite not.

Its features are indistinctmirrored versions of Luka, Merrek, and Silas, all of them mish-mashed together in some ever-shifting amalgamation based on how much of them are in view.

The light in the gas lamps gutters, then BLOOMS, coruscating blossoms of red and orange that eagerly rise under the fresh shower of gas through broken pipes that now fill Merrek’s and Luka’s dufflebags as the place begins to burn.

The fog in the mirror continues to spread. A slow, circular sweep like something inhaling just behind the glass.

Then, across the inner surface, a pattern begins to form. Like condensation gathering into writing. Jagged, almost runic at first, then shifting into letters the mind recognizes just a moment too late.

BRING IT BACK.

Its features are indistinctmirrored versions of Luka, Merrek, and Silas, all of them mish-mashed together in some ever-shifting amalgamation based on how much of them are in view.

Merrek isn’t even perturbed by the gas release, maybe he’s too twacked to realize the gravity of it. But, the bag’s almost full. It’s a good time for a break, man. He pulls out a cigarette, stuffing it in his lip. There’s a bit of a delay as he tries to find a lighter. Where the fuck is his lighter?!

Luka looks at the mirror his cheek was pressed up against with slowly rising horror, his face going pale “TAKE THE FUCKING MIRROR, GEET!” Luka shouts at the big-man, shoving it into his arms and sprinting for the door “AND FUCKING RUN!” Luka shouts, looking over to Silas as they break for the door “Sil’! Any clue what that fucking thing is?!” Luka asks the man paniced

Silas squints harshly and in complete contrast to Merrek, attempts at the very least to try and figure out what the fuck’s going on. Perhaps acting on a hunch that he has, he tries to get a finger close to the nearest flame. “All this shit wasn’t here before, might not be still…”, he murmurs to nobody in particular but himself…

Merrek hikes the bag over his shoulder like everything’s cool, because to him, everything is. He’s blown labs before. This ain’t shit. He leans down with like, two hundred pounds of copper on his shoulder, lighting a camel off the floor blaze with utter casuale. Then he’s shuffling towards Luka, trying to heave the mirror over the same shoulder like a fucking construction worker.

Silas looks like he’s too damn entranced by his own farts fot the moment to try and run.

Merrek finds his lighter. Wait. That’s not his. It’s shiny and black and full of fog. Still, it’s exactly there when he wants it, exactly ready and willing. The click, click, click, and when it goes and lights his whole arm is suddenly engulfed in flames. It reaches upward with unnatural speed, grasping at the corners of the room like a thing exhaling in reverse. The heat intensifies with red-orange-blue, the sizzling of burning flesh and agony racing across Merrek’s form.

For a heartbeat, time stutters.

The mirror, thrown from Luka and slung over Merrek’s shoulder like an overfed suitcase, shifts its weight.

Not metaphorically.

It -breathes- in, the flame spirialing inwards towards it, getting hotter and hotter. It tugs. It vibrates. As if it’s trying to pull Merrek backward. Toward the center of the burning shop. Back toward its proper axis.

A single pulse radiates from it. A tone, high-pitched and bone-thin, piercing the gas-heavy air. Behind Merrek’s back, the glass surface shudders like disturbed water, and a handprinttwisted, too-long fingers slam onto the inner surface from the inside. It doesn’t break. It presses.

As Silas touches the licking flames, his eyes and senses telling it’s too hot. But the brain rejects.

The flame touches Silas’s finger. No pain. No heat. It’s not real. At least, the gas lamps aren’t.

But the smoke? The heat in the walls? The screaming wood that’s starting to crack under the heat, that makes his flesh bead with sweat?

All real.

The fire isn’t the illusion.
The room is.

Luka pauses as he spots Silas too enraptured to run, and Merrek being magically sucked further into the room by the force of the black mirror, the flames being sucked from the room through Merrek, into the reflective surface. “Silas! Fucking run!” Luka barks at Silas, grabbing him at the shoulder and attempting to wake him before running back to Merrek next “Ditch the mirror Geet, we gotta get the fuck out of here!” Luka shouts, trying to be heard over the roaring flames as he slams his foot into the mirror to try and knock it off Merrek’s back, grabbing at the man’s arm as he tries to pull him out of the store … Nothing Luka was actually capable of doing to the 7ft monster, but Luka hoped it would clue the man in towards what he should be doing right now

Merrek does ditch the mirror. But if he can’t have it, he doesn’t want ANYBODY to have it! Despite the fact that he’s probably roasting like a thanksgiving turkey, he takes a moment to attempt to drive an iron spike into the obsidian. Hard. Really hard.

Silas clasps his fist shut around the false flame, cursing under his breath, but has to act quick at the worsening sensation of heat and outright bunny-sprints right from where he was standing towards the broken door. “Drop that fuckin’ thing, it’s sorcerous-!!”, he yells as he passes Merrek – not that he needed to given the lunatic already did so. He merely widens his eyes when destruction is attempted on it and quickens his pace right outta there and hopefully out of the blast radius of the consequence.

Blitzing out of the store Silas does. No supernatural force will contain or stop that man, and the licking flames grasp and twist as he moves. Luka manages to call out to Merrek, showing surprisingly good foresight. The mirror stops and begins winding Merrek back in – up until he drops it with a CRACK. There’s a sickening CRUNCH as the iron spike drives into the mirror, a horrible, inhuman keening that comes from within as the hand that has now partially slid out speared by cold iron and metal, the cursed object fracturing and cracking.

As it shatters, the illusion melts away, revealing the truth: An open network of pipes in the ground. There’s no building at all, this is a gas main that Merrek just busted open and stole the copper from and now EVERYTHING IS ON FUCKING FIRE, threatening to devour nearby buildings and ever person inside as the wail of sirens picks up in the distance. Fire department coming to the rescue as Silas easily outpaces the problems they’ve all created as the bag Merrek has continues to smoke as the pipes heat up and fire flickers around Luka and Merrek. The former having saved the latter from a burning death… for now.

Luka falls to his ass as the truth of just how bad the fire was is revealed to him, Luka raising his hands up in front of his face to try and shield himself as best he could. And on top of that, the fucking authorities were on their way. He grunts in displeasure under his breath as he hears the sirens, kicking at Merrek’s ankle to get the man’s attention before trying to crawl away, keeping low and away from the fire “Fucking cops are on their way” Luka calls back to Merrek “Ditch the copper, we need to get the fuck out fast”

Merrek cackles madly for a moment as the drain oil in his jeans catches, which is finally enough to snap him out of his geetered madness enough to start stepping. Not nearly as fast as Luka and Silas, he’s still got an image to uphold. And a cigarette to smoke. But the copper isn’t slowing him down in the slightest. He watches the cracked mirror for but a moment, shaking it off and wandering in the direction of the exit. “Not a fuckin’ chance.” He declares, managing to keep relative pace. He’d die, or get arrested, long before he let go’ve that duffel bag.

Silas slows into a bridk pacr to try and look around for a place to avoid the first responders with and hopefully guide his companions towards, panting as he goes.

Silas slows into a brisk pace to try and look around for a place to avoid the first responders with and hopefully guide his companions towards, panting as he goes.

Flames lick around Luka and Merrek, singing body and clothes. The former manages to slip away from the open pit in the ground that’s turned into an endless blaze, leaving Merrek a towering, blackening body of smoke. Silas has no trouble finding somewhere to hide. Why would he? The mists have been raised – repeatedly – choking everything out. It’s going to take awhile for the fire department to arrive, despite the noise alerting of their incoming presence. And the gas is shut off to the property long before then, though the fire still rages.

Merrek gets away with a duffle bag full of mass of molten pipes that tears through his dufflebag partway home and he has to figure out where to go from there. Silas gets away with ease. Luka gets away with minor burns.

And for now, that’s all that’s left to that black mirror – and this adventure.

Luka does his best to guide Merrek along, leaning forwards to dig the balls of his feet into the ground as he pulls Merrek along with a fistful of the man’s clothes “Fucking hell Geet, we’re gunna fucking die!” Luka groans trying to urge him to go at anything more than a casual walk …

Merrek speeds up his walk, sure, but not before picking off a slough of flesh from his face, and rummaging around in his pocket. Hey, he found that fucking lighter! And an oil burner. Damn, that’s convenient. He jogs, as he spins. That’s something that takes talent. This is no fucking rookie here, and he’s in a lotta pain, right? He even tries to pass the shit to Luka at the first opportunity. Maybe not even consciously, just being polite.

You’re all fine to exit whenever you want.