It Came From the Mirrorverse....

Participants: Bart Allen | Evan McCulloch
Open/Closed: Closed
Location(s): Central City | LexCorp
Time of Day: Twilight
Weather: Damp foggy nights with a lit neon skyline. 80's synthwave horror style
Summary: The adventures of Kid Flash and his whacky sidekick, Mirror Master.... "HIS WHA!? NOW YOU SEE HERE YE' WANKER!! WHEN I GET MY 'ANDS ON YOU, I'M GONNA-"

The curse of curiosity has stricken Central City. Is it an antidote to ignorance? Or is it a derelict and disastrous road to enlightenment? It is the curse of knowledge. Not some voodoo debauchery nor hoodoo prestidigitation. Not the sleeping curse nor rabid lycanthropy. Nor is it the tale of Medusa the gorgon witch, or the killing curse of literary fame. This affliction. This pestilence. This plague. It is intellect. Horrific damnable intellect. Is ignorance not bliss? The sad and horrible realities of this detestable world are best left unknown. To know of famine. To know of death. To know of pestilence. To know of war. To know, the universe as a whole.... Every iota of space and time. The vast emptiness of the void. The uncaring ungodly void, from which we are only insignificant speckles of dust and degeneracy. To know of meaninglessness and hopelessness. It's all so very psychedelic... The fact that, well... We're alive. We, tiny practically microbial blobs, live on a floating rock out in a vacuous nothingness of lights and molecules and dust and destruction. We're here. As everything but also as nothing.

The apple of knowledge. Humanity takes a bite out of it everyday. Everyday with naught but a callous disregard for the ramifications of each succulent chomp, be it benign or malign. There are.. Things. Things in these infinite universes, and things in all the dimensional planes. Horrible monstrous things. Things which humanity was not meant to fathom. Unknowable. Evil. Evil to are earthly understanding. Beyond our earthly understanding. This insatiable thirst for knowledge. We keep biting into that apple, as an antidote to ignorance. Yet, in our ignorance, we do not know why we shouldn't. Why God, in all of it's omnipotent splendor, did not want us to take a bite. Central City has taken a bite. A very slimy, squinchy, grotesque, and nasty chomp... Wayne Enterprises? S.T.A.R Labs? They all take subtle, calculated nibbles at the apple. Such that mayhem and madness would not grip the city and the world as a whole. But, there is one tech conglomerate with a callous disregard for the world. One corporation which was on the verge of bringing Central City into the cusp of that mayhem and madness... It's name?

LEXCORP
Flip City - By Glenn Frey

Mayhem and madness... That was the scene in the bowels of LexCorp, Central City. The subterranean lair of the facility's director... The deranged Doctor Lional Lovecraft. Colorful splashes of green, blue, red, purple and pink whisking through the facility, as if carried away by a brisk breeze. Alarms blinking. Sirens blaring. A shrill mechanical voice bleating into the hallways and corridors of the dim metallic facility. "Security breach on level five" Researchers and scientists were fleeing down past metallic walls with faint flickering lights of green and red. All colorful intellectuals clad in hazmat suits, and smocks, and research garments. Frantically escaping shimmering wisps of light and ghastly bloodcurdling beasties. Like the dwarves of Moria, they dig too deep... Far too deep. The unleashed and unnatural monsters wreaking havoc across the facility. "Security breach on level four"

The air was twinkling and psychedelic. Like a dream. Spirits. Monsters. Ghouls and ghosties. There was a swarm of hideous locust-like abominations swarming around level five. Chittering chattering black bugs. A pulsating swarming masse of hideous insecticide creatures. They had fleshy, bubbly faces. Four snapping mouths, like a starfish. Wide open mouths that took over the entire face. The pink of their mouths lined with rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth and bubbling oozy pink flesh. Large and slimey tongues slithering and oscillating out into the air from the back of their grotesque gullets. They had long and slender bodies, like black logs, the size of a human finger. Four rows of buzzing wings, and six legs which drifted along with the pitter patter of their dingy tattered wings. They chomped and chomped at the air. Oozing and drooling dribbles of black saliva. The swarm chasing a quartet of innocent scientists. Those frightened fleeing souls, frantically turning around a corridor's corner, screaming hurrahs of unspeakable terror. The swarm gave chase. Growling and snarling with each deranged buzz. The researchers slammed into an elevator. Fists slamming at the doors. Fingers rata-tat-tatting against the various buttons. The swarm snarled. Ravenous. Hungry. Drooling. Snarling. It lunged at them. Hurdling into their bodies and into their suits. The painful biting stings of a million-trillion needle sharp teeth rending through flesh and skin. The elevator pinged open with the blood curdling shrieks of four poor unfortunate souls. "Security breach on level three"

There was a palpable aura of some intergalactic weirdness throughout the facility. Even amidst the fear, and the terror, there this tingling spiritual strangeness which blanketed the facility. Like dancing through a million different twinkling stars in the vast emptiness of space. As if levitating in a world of unfathomable elvish beings, interdimensional dpirits, and derelict madness. "Security-Se-Secur-Security br-breach on level two" On another floor, there was a massive spindly goliath stomping through the facility. So tall, that it had to crouch to trudge through the halls haunches over and somewhat crouched. Almost squatting with legs of thin ropey muscle stepped and stomped through the building. It had no feet, rather it had grasslike stalks which slithered and slopped with each step. Splashing some water or vestigial juices as it stomped and stumbled by. The creature's scrunched up body accentuated its many bloated curves. A fat and grotesque beer belly, round and pudgy, yet with a plainly visible rib cage. Fatty breasts drooping just slightly, and a sharp and horned clavicle tearing through its ropey leathery skin with spikes. It's arms, long and thin, could reach just below it's knees. With large clawed hands, with spindly massive fingers that were even larger than its massive leathery hand. It reached out, arms and fingers dancing like it were a marionette puppet. Then it's face... A large ovular bald head. A smiling fanged and snarling face with no lips. Just teeth. Jagged sharp teeth. Smiling like the most horrifically evil hillbilly imaginable. A stupid, foul, and psychotic grin which curled into it's cheeks and giggled and chuckled like a deranged redneck. "Guh-huhhahhahhuhhahhahhuhhaaaaaaah!" It laughed and it laughed. With murky swirling grey eyes. Bulbous massive grey eyes, eerily reminiscent of a sickly infected fish. It reached out and moved like a claymation figure. Each tendon pulsating and jankily oscillating like a clanky rugged puppet. It reached out to a scientist, giggling gutturally. "Huhhah!! Gurghhahhahhuhhaghhahhaaaagh!!" It's fingers curling around the researchers slender figure as he screeched in a paralyzed panic. "Se-se-se-secure" A duo of security personnel sprinted around the corner, greeting the creature by unholstering a pair of pistols. "On le-lev-let-leth-this" The guards opened fire, the creature, and all of it's pulsating purple glow, cringed in disgust. Gulping and grunting in some indescribable growls of horror. The bullets just barely missing it, it's eyes swirled with anger. It lunged at them, mouth opened unnaturally wide, such that it's rolled back like an anaconda.

"This-this facility is not secure"


"Fo-Fool humans"


"There is no escape"

The madness unleashed. The horrors unsheathed. This entire facility, gone flip city. Bonkers. Bananas. Glass shattered. Beakers broken. Wisps of light surging through furniture and glassware with the force of a hurricane. Spine-tingling terror gripping the staff as lovecraftian eldritch abominations ransacked here there and everywhere. Tendriled gillmen and palpitating pulsating globules of flesh and eyes and madness. Worst of all. The largest of all. Most horrific of them all. An alien... Oscillating... Insect.... "Mayham like you've never known" A centipede... There was a massive hulking centipedes. A segmented black body. Hundreds of scuttling legs clitter clattering against the cold metal floors. Squirming. Writhing. Scuttling across the floor. The size of two school busses. It's underside, a void of writhing wriggling hands reaching out through tufts of starry black fur. A void of fur. As if those tufts of black were galaxies, hundreds of thousands of galaxies all shimmering in an if unite unanimous glow. "Coming to you in theaters"

There was... Darkness. Inexplicable darkness in that lab down below. He could hear the sirens and the horns and the screaming from the other corridors... But in here? Nothing. A chilling, echoing emptiness. Dread trickled down his spine. It tingled his flesh and tickled his bones. The boots of his hazmat suit crunching shards of broken glass as he crept by... This wasn't right this wasn't right this wasn't right no this didn't feel good not one single tiny minuscule but he crept and he crept glass clinking against his feet. There was no wind there was no alarm no siren no nothing just emptiness a chilling horrible emptiness. Stalking through the void lurching through the darkness step clump step clump step clump there was something here he knew there was there had to be........ Scuttle. Scuttle scuttle. There was. He didn't know what it was. He didn't want to know... But it was there.... "A thing from another world"

He could feel the heaving bubbling mass of stomach bile in his stomach... Vomit... Vomit... It felt like he was going to vommit! It bubbled and churned in his stomach... It was here! He knew it was here! But where!? God damnit where!? That cautious side step creep metamorphosed into a frantic sprint as he heard the scuttle behind him. Legs... So many legs... "A holocaust of horrors" Then... It's body... He froze as he saw each appendage squirm on by. His heavy breaths heaving through the breather of his hazmat suit. He back away. Slowly. Gripped by a pulsating blood pumping terror coursing through every iota of his body. He was sweating profusely. It was here... Right in front of him... He backed away until he hit a hard surface which wasn't there before. It felt.... Furry. Tingly. As if... As if he wasn't suddenly grabbed by a hundred clammy hands. In fact, he was! Hundreds of black writhing hands squirming and poking at his back. His eyes clenched shut, for he knew this was the end. His end. "Fear the fiend without a face" He whimpered. Shivered. Shuddered. Tears welling up in his eyes. Then streaming down his cheeks. Heavy breathing. In. Out. In. Out. "Corridors of blood" Perhaps it was curiousity. Perhaps it was stupidity. But he turned around. He turned around and opened his eyes. The writhing oscillating centipede had a face. A horrible evil face! It was... Human. Smiling and human. No lips. But smiling teeth which curled into it's gaunt almost skeletal face. An elongated skeletal face. It had four massive mandibles, the size of tree branches, curling and creaking about in the air. Then the eyes... Massive black eyes. Empty. Soulless. Horrible. They were each the size of a human head, cracking apart as if it's very skin were word. Two tiny white orbs suddenly appeared. The irises. They slowly folded down, casting a chilling empty gaze at him. A massive white mane of hair folding from its head down its centipede body. They stared at each other. Eyes locked. Frozen. Frozen. Frozen. Nothingness.

"It came from the Mirrorverse.........."


CENTRAL CITY

Darkness cradled the neon skyline of Central City, blanketing the beloved hometown of the Flash in an autumn chill. There was a deep chill breeze wheezing across the empty streets, with a ghostly fog carpeting the roads and sidewalks in a dull creep. A droll synth-like hymn pulsating through Central City like a small tidal wave. Speckled colors of beautiful neon red and blue faintly illuminating that natural smog in an eery though gorgeous glow. The city felt like a void. A blackhole. Void of life. Void of anything, but color. Creepy, but serene and peaceful. Unaware of the horrors which occurred only two nights prior. Unaware of the unfathomable strangeness which has been unleashed. All unaware, apart from one man. Evan McCulloch. Mirror Master. The second Mirror Master... God, he hated that title. Second Mirror Master. Because he wasn't good enough for the first. He wasn't good enough for the only. He just wasn't good enough. For anything. He was sick of being a "joke villain". Sick of all flack the Rogues Gallery got. He blamed the Trickster, honestly. And the Pied Piper. And freaking Rainbow Raider. He wasn't a fan of any of them. He was never very nice to them either. Not that he was really nice to anyone. He sometimes wondered if that's why Captain Cold was his only real friend. He got drunk with Captain Boomerang, and worked with Weather Wizard, but... He felt... Detached. Detached, and sad. He didn't quite understand why, and honestly? He didn't care. At least, he told himself he didn't care. Anyone who knew him could probably gaze past the crackling facade. It really wasn't a mystery why he did hard drugs... At least not for anyone that well and truly knew him.

Evan despised most everyone, and (for good reason) most everyone despised him back. In fact, it felt like the whole damn world despised him. It felt like at every turn, God was out to take a crap on his miserable life. Every time he pulled a heist... Newspapers and civilians, and superheroes all called him a joke. A knock-off, and street level thug. Evan desired nothing more than street cred as a super villain. It was all he knew. Supervillainy was really, all he had in life. Yet time after time he was casted aside. Belittled and laughed up. Kind of like how he belittles and torments his fellow Rogues. He wanted to prove himself... He needed to prove himself... But... God... Of course this would happen.

Mirror Master, with what little power he had left, tried to break into LexCorp. To remedy the situation. But it went wrong. Horribly wrong. Now? Look at what he's been reduced too. Amidst the dim fog. God... This was embarrassing. Downright pitiful. He felt pathetic. Worse than pathetic, he felt like a D-Lister. This was Condiment King levels of villainy... Worse than Condiment King! This was James Jesse level of villainy how that worthless bloke got into the FBI was beyond, McCulloch. He couldn't use most of his powers... And this was the only way he could think of to get the damn Flash's attention without waltzing into the CCPD guns ablazing.

Mirror Master, in his usual gaudy attire, was... Smashing parking meters. It was so petty. So pathetic. So beneath him. He held a massive sack over his shoulder and plopped it in front of his next target. Quarters began overflowing from the sack's bowels. Splattering coins all across the pavement. But Evan didn't care. This wasn't about the money though it would be nice to keep. This was about Flasher. God, where was he? This was embarrassing. God-forbid another Rogue or another super villain caught him stooping so low. Smashing parking meters with his Mirror Gun and collecting petty change in an oversized sack. It was downright comical. He'd be the laughing stock of the villain community. Not just the villain community... The whole community. Every town city and state across the U. S. Of A! He felt so defeated and ashamed as coins trickled into his sack. Deflated as he casted the lowly gaze of a sad puppy at his line of smashed parking meters across the street. This has been an autonomous process. Smash. Trickle. Sadness. Repeat.

This was getting quite annoying. He hated this. He hated himself, he hated the flash, he hated Central City, he hated everything!! Perhaps he was a drama queen, but Mirror Master simply wished to curl up into a ball and die in his sleep! This was humiliating!! Where's the bloody Flash so that he could get this over with already!?!? "#%$& me life. This is bloody hopeless...."

| Bart Allen |

So far he'd stopped a bank robbery - two people unknowingly trying to rob the same bank so he counted that as stopping two robberies - a diamond heist, and helped walk an old lady across street - what she was doing out at this time, he didn't know and frankly didn't want to know. He wasn't growing tired, though he was starting to grow bored and hungry. He'd waited in line at the local Big Belly Burger, grateful that it was open at this time though he felt bad for the employees. Once he'd scarfed down enough burgers to make anyone that dared watch sick, he was off again.

Only to screech to a halt when he saw-- Was that Mirror Master? He squinted, still a good distance away but he was certain he'd recognize that costume anywhere. What was he doing? Stealing from parking meters? That... That was new. He zipped on over in a blur of red and yellow, a streak of lightning. He knew exactly how much the damage to the meters was going to cost the city - and thus the taxpayers - to fix. He'd read it in a book once. He had no clue why Mirror Master wanted to invoke the wrath of taxpayers.

"You know you're supposed to put a quarter in," he quipped, grabbing the bag in a blur and moving to take it away from the older man. "Not take the quarters out-- oof!" He came to a complete stop on account of how heavy the bag was. He was, after all, a scrawny teenager and super strength was not one of his many talents. He gave the bag a stubborn, huffy look before trying to lift it again, this time with both hands.

"Y'know this isn't your usual -- jeez, how much is in here?" He settled for setting the bag on the ground and just decided that if Mirror Master reached for it, he'd rather move him than the bag. For now at least. Thankfully Conner wasn't here to see him or else he knew he'd never live it down. "This isn't your usual M.O.," he continued as if he'd never stopped. "I stopped two bank robberies and a diamond heist - That seems more like your usual stuff."

Bart knew most people thought he was an idiot, that he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. It bugged him mainly when people he cared about thought that but it didn't bug him as much when it was the villains. He was immature, childish, reckless, yes. But he wasn't stupid. He was well aware that this didn't fit into Mirror Master's usual pattern and he had a feeling the other man was well aware of that too.

"If you wanted to a fresh start, a do-over," he continued, shrugging nonchalantly. "I would've just suggested retiring to Florida. Isn't that where all the old people go?"

---

487 words
Evan McCulloch

The Flash really had a penchant for that... This inmate, and honestly rather obnoxious talent of appearing out of nowhere and scaring the daylights out of just about any petty thief unfortunate enough to cross his path. Mirror Master was no exception. He hated surprises, and he especially hated jump scares. They kind of really pissed him off, and this time was no different. The Flash sprinted him, as always. With some stupid quip, as always. Scaring the crap out of him, as always. (Evan did so loathe the monotonous rut which was his life).

Frightened and utterly taken aback (inspite of personally expecting the aforementioned scarlet speedster), Mirror Master fell to his rump, mouth agape from a very verbal gasp ”Hck!” A light fog blanketed the ground, just barely clouding his vision. It was hazy, but he could see a few sharp arching sparks from Flasher’s weird... Staticky-ness... Honestly, he never quite understood what all that was. He knew of the Speed Force, and had only a very basic understanding of what it all was, but otherwise? The Rogues were mostly clueless. Hell, the Feds were even clueless. Or, at least they feigned cluelessness. Evan scowled with a particularly mean spirited glare, the frigid smog of vapor enveloping his gaunt form. ”Why!? Why do ye’ ‘ave t’ do tha’ every time!?”

Mirror Master attempted to arise from the fog, growling and cursing to himself the entire way up ”Jacka$$.” He grumbled sincerely himself, dusting off his shoulders, arms, and chest, and not quite paying attention to Flasher’s antics. That buttinsky was always so annoying. Evan never really could understood why Snart and Flash were always so chummy, I mean.., He was always so irritating! Not to mention, if a Rogue so much as sneezed in Keystone, that crimson crook would be there in an instant. But... Regardless of Evan’s general disdain, he needed Flash... Desperately. But he sure did take his sweet time to get here! ”It took ye’ long enough ye’ dobber! ‘Ave ye’ got any idea how long I’ve been slaverin’ away out here!? What too-........”

No.

”...”

Was this some sick joke!?

No. No. No. No.

”Uuuuuh, where’s the bloody Flash!?” Why? Why him!? Why now!? When his life was in actual mortal danger, the one time he actually wanted Flash to show up, he gets the two-bit half-wit sidekick. Go figure. That’s just his luck. The world must’ve well and truly hated him after all. This? On top of everything else!? Frustration was teaching a very lethal boiling point. ”No. No! Bugger off ye’ wee bastard! I don’t want you! Why’d it ‘ave t’ be you!? Where’s the bloody flash!?”

First Snart up and vanished, then came that travesty in LexCorp, and now this... Was it wrong for him to feel sorry for himself? Especially with one L after the next after the next. Nothing ever went his way. He did everything right, followed all of Captain Cold’s stupid rules, but time and time again the world would give some metaphorical backhand. The rather infuriating addition of Kid Flash in all this was just rubbing salt in the wound. The lad soon prattled on about Evan’s usual M.O... It was a rather astute observation, actually. Surprisingly. Mirror Master always regarded the annoying bugger was an idiot. Often verbally. In fact, when it came to Flash’s sidekick, Evan McCulloch was a veritable thesaurus of rather nasty insults (such needless petty cruelty was merely a side effect of the doltish druggie being a genuinely terrible human being). Even in stressful, strenuous times like this, Mirror Master would gladly take a moment out of his day just to call the runt stupid. ”Come up with tha’ y’erself, Sherlock?” The Scotsman snarled with a glare.

What came next was a quip. Perhaps the cruelest quip of them all... ”Old? Florida!?” Move fo Florida??? Florida. The South Ireland of the U.S. of A. That was perhaps the most insulting comment he’d ever heard. It was so horrible, so brash, so heartless, so evil! ”Become a Florida Man!? Piss off ye’ donut” This wee runt was just rude. Absurdly rude. Calling him old on top of that? How slightly less cruel (but still cruel). Evan couldn’t have been that much older then the little prick.... ”An’ I ain’t old! I’m experienced.” Evan stood defiantly in face of such childish taunts, standing indignantly proud amidst this slander.

This was a waste of time. Evan knew from the start it was, after that madness at LexCorp? His days were numbered... Perhaps his hours were. With a sigh, the villain turned away. ”Hmph, ya know wha’? Just go away - an’ don’t come back unless it’s with y’er pa ‘er y’er big brother, ‘er whatever the #%$& he is t’ ya.” Mirror Master took this moment to rub something in his gums. It wasn’t toothpaste.

| Bart Allen |
(I’m a slow poster too XD. But, yours was well worth the wait!)

He couldn't help a small laugh escaping as Mirror Master fell down. He liked having that affect on the bad guys - the same startle his grandfather and Wally could get out of them. He paused briefly - very briefly because he already knew the answer and his mind could work as fast as the rest of him - when he was asked why. He thought the answer should have been obvious though apparently it wasn't. It also wasn't as if he could avoid it, if he didn't enjoy it. Unless someone was as fast as him or could hear as good as those Supers or were just weirdly good at hiding their surprise like those Bats, they tended to be startled when he suddenly arrived.

"It's fun!" he replied with a grin. He added with a shrug, "You'd think it'd get old but it never does." A part of him was a bit disappointed he no longer had that effect on some of his fellow Teen Titans as they had become used to it. But that just made it all the more enjoyable when it happened with the newbies. Not that every time was on purpose. It was as much a habit as it was a hobby nowadays.

Bart pouted at the name calling though he had to admit he'd been called worse - a lot of the ones he recalled came from Mirror Master himself. He turned his attention to his fingertips, looking at them in mock boredom as he waited for Evan to get up. He could have moved in a blur and helped him up or already whisked him off to the police station but where was the fun in that? Besides his quips hadn't even been addressed yet - They needed to exchange witty banter! There typically wasn't witty banter once a jail cell was involved.

He blinked behind his goggles, attention easily returning to Mirror Master when he started talking more, making it sound very much like he'd been purposefully waiting for him to show up. Did that make this a trap? That was a very odd way of announcing it was a trap. He looked around, turning in his spot in a circle before he was facing the rogue again. It didn't look like a trap. And it almost sounded as if Evan had been waiting because he needed help? Nah, it was probably just some trap.

He hadn't realized that Evan hadn't realized just which speedster had shown up. "What took me so long?" he asked, assuming he was finishing the sentence that had trailed off into a look of confusion and disbelief if his guess was correct. "Well there were the two bank robberies, the diamond heist, the old lady that needed help across the street - She was very sweet! Gave me some hard candies from her purse. I think old ladies are exceptions to the don't take candy from strangers rule, don't you? Oh! And I got food - Big Belly Burger. It was delicious--"

He found his words cut off as Evan's frustration became words of his own. Bart pouted childishly, wondering how Evan could've thought he was talking to the Flash this whole time. Did he sound like his grandfather? Like Wally? He placed his hands on his hips and tapped his foot rapidly, his foot becoming a blur of movement, when he was told to leave.

"Hey!" he said, jabbing a finger in Evan's direction. "I was the Flash! I just... died and came back as a teenager again, but I was the Flash!" He shot Evan a knowing almost uncharacteristically cold look, making it clear he thought that should have been obvious. Evan had, after all, been one of the men behind his death. Even if he hadn't had his eidetic memory, he was certain he wouldn't have ever forgotten that. After all trauma was hard to forget.

He cocked an eyebrow when asked if he'd come up with the first quip all by himself, noting that he wasn't being told he was wrong. It seemed both he and Evan were aware that this wasn't how they'd usually run into each other. Perhaps this wasn't a trap?

"I did!" he announced, any coldness gone as quickly as it had appeared and he grinned wide and goofy. "What do you think? Want it on a t-shirt?" He barked out a laugh at Mirror Master's reaction to his mention of Florida. He waved his had dismissively when Evan insisted he was experienced. "That just sounds like another way to say old," he pointed out.

Bart huffed when he was told to leave a second time. Really did no one appreciate him and his impeccable timing? "That depends on which Flash you mean," he said, referring to his relationship with them. After all while he was family to both, only one Flash was his grandfather. "They're both clearly busy and I seem to recall you saying... Hmmm what was it again?" He tapped his chin with his finger as if he was thinking when of course he remembered.

"Oh yeah!" he finally said after a brief pause to pretend to think. He then continued in an obvious attempt to mimic the older man's accent, "'Ave ye' got any idea how long I've been slaverin' away out here?!" He grinned up at Mirror Master as if he expected a pat on the head for remembering and a lollipop for being a good boy. He moved in a blur, suddenly much closer, right in front of Evan, barely any space between them, gazing up at him with curious eyes and his hands held behind his back. "Soooooooo why were you waiting?"

---

944 words
Evan McCulloch

Oh... Yeah. Evan McCulloch has murdered many people in his lifetime. Part of the job, you grow numb to it overtime. But... Never before has the face of one his victims glared physically back at him. It was haunting, honestly. A cold chill shivered down his spine, and honestly? Mirror Master hadn’t the stones to look the kid in the eyes when he said that. The “death thing” that is... He looked to the floor grimly, but did not say a word. That whole ordeal was not the Rogues Gallery’s finest hour. Guilt welled up in his throat, but he toughed it out. What made things worse, most of the other Rogues more than likely apologized for it all. Maybe not Snart, and definitely not Mardon, but the others? A soft hearted lot, not cut out for killing. Especially not cut out for murdering a damn child... Evan McCulloch did not apologize. Nor had he the ambition of doing so. He was a stubborn ass like that. He was more sorry than you’ll ever know, but no one would ever know that. No, what came out next was callous, and needlessly cruel. ”If you were a good one ye’ wouldn’t have died, huh?” He mumbled quietly, almost as a whisper, incapable of looking Bart Allen in the eyes.

Never before was Mirror Master actually relieved to hear those stupid inane quips. It meant he could continue on with business, rather than stupid mushy stuff. Feelings, eww! Kid Flash prattled on with his jokes, and Mirror Master could only offer very grumpy glares. Squidward glares. When it was all said and done, McCulloch did not address the speedster. Rather, he looked up to the heavens, and addressed God himself. ”I’m a Catholic! Why do ye’ put me through this ye’ great white numpty!?” The stars have no response, only silence. Mirror Master was alone in the universe. No, sadly not alone. Kid Flash was still there. Not only was Kid Flash there, but he was now uncomfortably close. So close that Evan could actually smell the greased up fast food the boy had boasted about earlier. Mirror Master tensed up and stumbled backwards, his glare was like a blazing fire. He did not enjoy it when Kid Flash acted so... Weird. And annoying. ”I hate you so... So much.” But, as fate would have it, this was the hand he was dealt. It was this, or nothing. The glass gangster pondered for a moment how to proceed. He put his fingers to lips in a deep contemplation over the... Absurdity of this situation ”I guess you’ll... Have t’ do.....” McCulloch groaned like a child having not gotten his way. He quietly paced, left to right, kicking his massive sack of change and causing a few quarters to splatter unto the pavement. ”I uh....” He rehearsed this several times, the story, the plan, everything. But, now he was at a loss for words. Stumped over these.... Circumstances. ”Hm....” He finally shrugged. ”I don’t know how t’ explain this......”

The Upside Down - By Kyle Dixon & Michael Stein

”Bugger, I’ll just show ye’” The roguish reflection stepped aside from the cartoonish bags of nickels and pennies and quarters and dimes and carefully meandered towards a storefront to his right. It was a shoe store that was kind of old looking but modern enough with glistening ruby red heels and sparkling blue sandals glaring nay taunting him as he lurched quietly and carefully closer. I say carefully because it was carefully every single step was hesitant and unsure as if the rogue was entirely reluctant to step any closer but he had to he knew he had to for the circumstances as he knew them were livelihood and death. Evan could feel the world around him crumbling apart at the seems (metaphorically of course) this was a terrible idea and he knew that he could feel it in his bones and more specifically in his spine he could feel it as goosebumps trickled down his neck and across his back fanning out in waves and pouring all over like running water. McCulloch paused halfway there but not close enough a long and arduous hesitation as if horror itself took on an avatar or perhaps some human form to personally grab him by the arms and hold him back. It was whispering in his ear ”don’t do it you know this is a bad idea this is stupid turn back now you are going to die if you do this you’re getting too close this isn’t going to work you are going to die.” The dread subsided with a gulp and determination pressured him ever onwards each step feeling as though an earthquake had rocked the world rocked his world more specifically because he could feel his world unraveling by the second. Step.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Horrified and anxious eyes glared back at him as he exchanged face to face glances with his own reflection, slowly, delicately, anxiously, raising his right hand, his body growing numb, his eyes losing life, this was it. The green of his right glove waved slowly across the glass as though it were across water his murky reflection and the murky reflection of Bart Allen washing away in one massive wave and replaced by heaving. Horrible. Monsters. Hideous creatures, snarling and angry, some giggling like hyena’s, others drooling red saliva, all snarling and biting and oscillating I’m utterly unnatural movements. Evan immediately took three steps back. The creature’s ogled, and the creature’s drooled. Over a dozen anxious eyeballs, just watching, watching and yearning, with an unknowable desire. Twisted and foul faces. All of them different and horrific. One, of an old hag, her hair drenched in grease and frazzled like dead grass. Black eyes, bulbous and alien, yet sad and murky like that of a dead fish. Breathing. Heaving. Coughing up air through jagged uneven fangs, fangs which draped over her charred but pale white lips like a Venus flytrap. The next, a man, nay a creature. Smiling and giggling like a madman. Massive lidless eyes, both the size of golfballs. Tiny Beaty irises, but witch cracks and veins pulsating in the eyeball. It had hair, oily black hair like tar. Over it’s forehead like slimey tendrils, and down its neck. All of it’s haunched over body, draped and coddled in that tar like, almost whisky hair. It squatted, a massive hand with inhumanly large fingers pressed against the opposite side of the glass. Then there was the tallest one of them all. The body, and neck, of a giraffe, but with screaming agonizing faces and mouths where the spotted pattern should be. Each mouth, with a slimey oscillating tongue which curled and contorted amidst shimmering almost psychedelic air. Above it’s neck, a face corroded and sloppy, and with a massive vacuous gaping whole in the center with naught but utter blackness within. The creature’s many tongues slithers and slathered against the glass. Between those three hideous monstrosities, there were other, nameless, faceless, leering creatures. Some just eyes, others just lights, all wanting out. But, it seemed as though none could get out... Yet.

Evan leered at the creatures, trapped and battering against a glass cage. A part of him was proud, and anxious to see Kid Flash’s reaction. Discomfort shifted into humor, and he sneered at the grotesque sight. ”Trippy, ain’t it?” He chuckled with a seemingly inexplicable nonchalance. Humor faded into dread once more, as some seeming... Perhaps parental instinct took over. He held his arm out, practically karate chopping the air as a preemptive strike to keep the boy away from the glass should he have tried to step forwards. It was bizarre, and out of character, but almost fatherly as he attempted to keep the teen away. ”Eh.... F-From a safe distance, lad.” His composure has regained surprisingly fast, he admires the gaudy display of hideous creatures, no longer taken aback by their raunchy features.

”Yeah, tha’ ain’t normal....” Normal. Funny word. Not one Evan normally adhered to. Especially in regards to the Mirror Dimension. Not much was ever “normal” in that messed up maze and hellhole. Everyday brought something new, and today was clearly no exception. The mercenary turned away, his back now facing the clawing, snarling creature’s that clamored to escape. He pointed his thumb over his shoulders and back at the creatures. ”They’re usually pretty docile.” The glass window behind him warped and swirled. Like puddy and water, it began curling outwards and stretching out beyond the frame. Evan did not notice. ”#%$&en creepy, but docile.” Mirror Master shrugged, and behind him, a sparkling miasma curled and swirled out of the glass. It twinkled like starlight, and dances in the air, a haze of purple and black and scarlet. Evan did not notice. ”But then, oh, I dunno.... ‘Bout two weeks ago?” The mist became material. A body forming, malformed, but forming. Evan did not notice. ”They started actin’ up.” The creature’s body was snakelike, oscillating amidst the night air. Like a centipede, a black and hairy body vacillating around as oozy tar like tufts of black fur took shape. Evan did not notice. ”Small things at first, they’d be territorial an’ scream at me here and there, but nothin’ too bad.” A head formed at that long and shaggy snake like neck. Pale as the moonlight, but not skeletal. A human face, bald at the top, but with hair on the back of it’s head which ran down the curling body. Evan did not notice. ”But now? Those buggers are out f’er blood.” The creature’s face hissed and snarled. With a gapping maw oozing in red saliva, which slathered and spat to the pavement of earth. It groaned in pain, but Evan did not notice. ”Lemme tell ye’, those things are pissed.“ Large and blank white eyes suddenly formed as it’s head thrashed and throbbed in the air. It leered above Evan, looking down at him, eyes swirling with malice. It looked pissed. Evan did not notice. ”An ye’ know wha!?” It loomed over him, four hairy black arms sprawling out from its slithery hairy neck. Right above Evan, slowly encroaching the Mirror Master’s haunt form. Evan did not notice. ”It’s all-” Red saliva splashed upon his shoulders. He noticed.

”It’s....” His eyes went wide, and his shoulders slumped and sank. The towering shadow, lurching inches above his head. ”It’s all....” Evan’s eyes slowly rolled up, as far as they could go. He gave a simple but defeated sigh, resigning himself to fate.

”Bullocks.”

| Bart Allen |

Was that guilt he saw in Evan? That was certainly new. Did he regret his hand in Bart's uh - temporary passing or was he simply uncomfortable or did he just not have a good comeback for that? Sometimes the Rogues were quite easy to read, other times it was as if they were written in a language he hadn't quite learned yet. Things with them certainly felt... different ever since he'd died and come back. Maybe he was just more cautious around them, though he tried his best to hide it. But both he and the Rogues had learned what they were capable of the hard way and they all had to live with that knowledge.

Bart tapped his foot impatiently and with his speed, the foot a thumping blur against the ground. Hadn't Evan fought enough Flashes to know that speedsters liked things to be, well, speedy? Something was wrong and he was taking soooooo long to get to it--

Bart's eyes were off of Evan when he heard that mumble, not catching all of the words but catching enough that he was fairly certain he could guess what he'd missed. Emotions bubbled up, anger, frustration, the urge to snap that perhaps the question was if Evan and the other Rogues had been "good ones" then he wouldn't have died. But saying that wouldn't have helped and it wasn't what anyone expected - certainly not what they wanted from him. That didn't really go with the immature, childishness expected from him.

It was just a quick beat, far too easily missed, anger as electric as the lightning he often trailed flashing in his eyes before it was gone, no trace that it had ever been there. A goofy grin was back on his face and he arched a curious eyebrow as Mirror Master started talking to the sky. He leaned in closer and craned his neck to dramatically look up at the sky. Of course there was nothing there except, well, sky. At least not that he could see. He looked to Evan then back up at the sky.

"I don't think Superman's there," he said despite knowing perfectly well that Evan wasn't trying to talk to Superman, "You also shouldn't call him a great white numpty." Of course he had to do his best to mimic Evan's accent when he quoted him again. It was as horrible as the first attempt was. No real effort put into it. He arched an eyebrow again when told how much the man hated him. "And yet here you are," he pointed out, pointing to Evan and then pointing to himself with a grin. "Needing my help."

It wasn't every day that a Rogue asked for a Flash's help - at least not a current Rogue. Hartley was an except to that, being a former Rogue. Or at least Bart thought. When was the last time he'd heard any update on the Piper? Was he still in jail? He'd have to ask Wally for an update when he got the chance. Of course Bart would have to do - Evan wasn't going to get any other help as far as the teen was aware of. Both Wally and Barry were off doing... Well Bart didn't know what. He hadn't forgotten - he never forgot anything - he just hadn't found out in the first place. So Mirror Master was stuck with him much to his clear annoyance - and honestly Bart's delight because if Evan was going to be a jerk about the whole "I helped kill you" thing, then he was going to enjoy annoying him. It came with his territory, after all.

Bart blinked curiously. He always preferred a good show over tell. He watched Mirror Master move to the storefront before moving in a blur, putting all the coins back where they belonged as best he could - What? He couldn't just leave them there for someone to grab while he was off with Evan! Then he was right there next to Evan, who was definitely spooked about... whatever it was he was going to show him. When was the last time he'd ever seen a Rogue so shaken? Had he ever seen him like this before? Something must have been really wrong. Oh no.

There was a part of him that wondered if this was a trap. All he could do was go along with Mirror Master and hope that, if that turned out to be the case, his speed would help him out of it.

Bart admittedly wasn't expecting the monsters. He flinched just slightly, genuinely, then put on a purposefully overdramatic expression that best translated too what the hell is that. It didn't take long for him to get as used to their appearances as he was ever going to and any horror was pushed back, childlike curiosity coming to the forefront of his mind. His mouth made an O, eyes wide and curious behind his goggles. He moved to take a step closer right when an arm suddenly came down like a bar. He reacted to the very out of character, borderline parental action with an equally childlike pout directed right up at Mirror Master as if he'd just had his lollipop taken away.

"Are you sure?" he asked when informed that this wasn't normal. His tone made it clear he knew it wasn't normal. "They remind me of Cold." He grinned up at Evan and even playfully elbowed him in the side. "Hm? Hm? You can laugh! I know I'm hilarious." He pursed his lips thoughtfully when Evan clarified what wasn't normal was how they were acting, not the fact that they existed in the first place. "Do you live with these things? You have weirder pets than Harley Quinn." He shook his head and tsked, not noticing the way Evan trailed off until...

"Bullocks."

Bart looked to Mirror Master, confused and then followed his gaze-- Oh. Well... That was a nope. He grabbed Evan and moved in a blur - hopefully the Rogue wasn't prone to motion sickness - depositing the both of them several feet away from whatever that was. Which reminded him: "What is that?!" he asked as soon as they stopped moving, pointing even though it was obvious what he was referring to. "What have you been feeding these things? Yeesh, I think you need to put them on a diet."

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Evan McCulloch