FIVE peculiar curiosities that will BLOW YOUR MIND and GIVE YOU POLYPS! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)

 System-agnostic, as all good weird-object-lists are. There was supposed to be ten, but alas, this list is hampered by the author's supreme lack of creativity. Enjoy.

1. A delicate triangular shawl, completely covered in miniscule embroidered images of birds of every species imaginable, including those that are now extinct. Those who wear it may speak the language of birds, issuing commands and learning what the feathered ones know. Will probably give you the ability to fly if you sing the song of the one bird it does not depict. 

Actually pretty comfortable, bird-stuff aside.

2. An absolutely ancient, decrepit papier-mâché mask, its eyes and mouth worn into ragged tears, twisting what was once a simplistic smile into a menacing grimace. It feels flimsy, like it may flake apart into dust in your hand, but is oddly resistant to damage; its material refuses to rip or cut, and fires sputter and die away upon touching the mask as if it was soaked in water.

Wearing it, your fight-or-flight reflexes are honed to a razor edge; every threat is made clear and evident to your eyes, but even the most innocuous things seem threatening. You will fight like a predator and flee like prey.

3. A yellowed hyoid bone with a thin leather cord tied to its greater horns that allows it to be worn as a rather morbid necklace; the bone is allegedly a saintly relic, but specific details as to whose corpse it was actually picked from are scarce. 

Regardless of the bone's provenance, it allows its wearer to prevent anybody from speaking or otherwise vocalizing by simply looking them in the eye and humming, with the effect ending when the eye contact or humming stops.

4. A 7"×5" spiral-bound notebook, filled from cover to cover with cramped, spidery handwriting. The book contains a strange nonsense word that, when spoken aloud, briefly incapacitates those who hear it for the first time with tonic-clonic seizures that only last for a few seconds before subsiding. The notebook's author asserts that The Word, which the text always capitalizes when referring to it indirectly, is a word from the language of some unfathomably advanced ancient civilization, perhaps Atlantis, Lemuria, or any other number of those lost continents occultists are so fond of; The Word's unusual symptoms are caused by the modern man's weakened mind being incapable of comprehending such a superior method of conveying information, so the author claims, which may be cured through all manner of new-age pineal-gland-decalcification nonsense along with the regular ingestion of aged urine.

The Word's true definition, unbeknownst to basically anybody alive, is just "the opposite of a sieve".

5. An antique hand mirror, perhaps of Victorian provenance, made from now-tarnished silver. The mirror's handle and edges have been filigreed with tiny depictions of many-headed serpents devouring each other and themselves alike; the metalwork is so delicate that the designs' true nature is not visible at first glance, with the snakes only becoming evident on closer inspection.

Cover the mirror's reflective surface in blood, and it will seemingly "drink" the fluid and show the observer the most important person who is directly acting against them, as well as ways in which that person may be exposed, stopped, or destroyed.

 The plans it presents will always work, but the victories it grants are always phyrric, usually with a high cost or consequence. This is what the mirror truly desires; the blood merely whets the mirror's appetite.