Mimic Mania
As a person who receives the majority of their news and information regarding the goings on of the Grand Celestio Council of Wizards from me in my letters, you may be under the false impression that a job at the Council means constant exciting, if stressful, workdays full of eminent deadlines and pressure. I would like to correct this impression quickly, and remind you that as many stress filled days as we Mid-Level Mages have, we also endure an equal number of slow days with nothing to do, where time feels like it dragging on and on. It is for this reason that we did not alert our supervisors about the mimic that found its way into the office last week.
If you are somehow unaware of what the common household pest, the mimic, is, I will explain, and luckily it is quite easy to understand. A mimic is a creature that, per the name, mimics inanimate objects, common examples being chests, chairs, and rugs. Older, more experienced mimics who have had time to hone their magic can replicate the look and feel of an object with almost zero flaws, and sit waiting for days, months, years even, to catch their prey. It was clear to me when I entered the demi-plane last week that the mimic that had somehow found its way into our work common area was not older, or at all experienced.
Sitting in the middle of the room that day was a footstool. It wasn’t remotely near any chairs or tables, and the color of the wood was much lighter than any of the other furniture in our meticulously color coordinated work space. Walking past the footstool to get to my desk, I could see the pattern on the legs clearer, and it was clear it wasn’t a pattern at all, but the faint indents of scales. I stopped to stare at it for a moment, my eyes tracing over the line of the wood grain on top of the stool that looked suspiciously like a mouth, and while I stood staring I saw the stool shift ever so slightly, as if I was making it nervous.
I finally tore myself away from my inquisitiveness and sat down at my desk. No sooner had I turned my head in the direction of my coworkers with a question on my lips then everyone in my general vicinity suddenly held fingers to their lips while silently giggling. I caught on quickly enough with the help of a passed note from Gail. Three supervisors had already walked past the obvious mimic and yet had remained oblivious to it. Now to see how long the little guy could last.
Two more supervisors walked by the mimic in the first hour. One’s nose was buried in a book but the other was looking around and talking to all the bored mages whose eyes were trained on the out of place piece of furniture. A whole group of management level mages walked by in the second hour with none the wiser. It was in the third hour that one unfortunate Upper-Echelon Mage walked into our work space and spotted the little stool, made a comment about needing something to rest their feet on in their office, and promptly got a sloppy bite to the hand. Chaos ensued as the mage made quite the fuss about throwing the pest outside, and all the Mid-Level Mages burst into laughter as soon as we were alone, invigorated to get through the rest of that boring work day.
May the moon shine favorably and without hesitation upon you,
Alexan Drytus
