The Mimic in Monsterland

I’m honestly not sure how long I stayed in the tree. It could have been hours or minutes for all I know. Hell, I’m on the fence on whether it was a side effect of the mimicry or just plain fear that caused time to flee. Even with the bird gone, heaviness permeated the air as I sat stunned and hurting, the back of my head throbbing.

Returning to my base form, I untied the vines keeping me attached to the tree. I sent a silent thanks to my grandfather for the arcane knowledge that is tying knots, probably wouldn’t have had a chance just now without it. I climbed down the tree slowly and shakily. That new strength I was boasting seemed miles away now. My legs gave out just a few feet away from the ground and I fell. With reflexes and agility I didn’t know I had, I twisted in the air and landed on the ground feet first. And then promptly tumbled to the ground as a wave of exhaustion overtook me.

Lying on the ground, I looked at my stamina bar. It was empty, well close enough at least. I sighed. It's strange being able to gauge your physical well-being by only looking at a few bars. Convenient, but strange all the same.

As I laid on the ground too tired to move, all I did was watch the green bar rise at a snail's pace. I wondered if there was anything I could do to increase the rate but decided to just chill and let it do its thing. I didn’t want to risk doing anything with my health bar so low. One oddity about the situation was just how quiet it was. No pitter patter from small animals, no bugs chirping, no leaves rustling. Like the forest was still holding its breath, worried the beast would return.

 

After a quick snooze, I looked and saw that my stamina rose to half. “Sleep recovers stamina.” I said as if I just discovered fire. I shook my head while getting up. “Of course it does, idiot.”

Still woozy, I looked around and found the top of the tree I slept in last night, about 50 feet away. Must have been carried away by that last blast of wind. The top of the tree was a lot larger than I thought. It most certainly would have ended me. I shuddered at the thought and looked at my health bar.

It had stopped flashing and rose back to about a quarter full. My head was still pounding though. I felt the back of my head and winced in pain, bringing my hand back around only to see it covered in blood. Nausea welled up in my stomach; I saw plenty of blood in my life from the different escapades and hunting trips Gramps took me on but it was never this much, never my blood.

Dismay climbed into my head but I pushed it away knowing I needed to focus on treating the gash that was surely on my head. Gingerly this time, I searched for the wound. Nothing. My mind whirled, there was enough O+ blood for three transfusions. But when I actually explored the wound, there was nothing. Some pain sure, but no cuts or lacerations at all.

“How?” I stammered in disbelief.

“Yeah, I probably need to explain that one. It's another power you get from the mimic gene, well kind of, more like a side effect.”

I jumped at her voice in my head. Just as I was about to say something about Tutor’s outburst, I stopped myself. This was the first time she was willingly divulging some useful information. And I’d be damned before halting the momentous event.

“Whenever you use object mimicry, your body returns itself to the condition it was in while mimicking. This is to ensure the mimicry is as close to perfect as possible every time. So in this case you were totally fine when you mimicked the log, no cuts or bruises. Because of this, when you were up in the tree crapping your pants and went log mode after bashing your skull, the gene reverted your body to how it was before. It fixed the cut on your head.” She explained.

“Wow. That seems incredibly OP. So I can just take some hits, transform into a log and then boom no damage. Wait, if that's true why didn’t my health bar fill back up completely?” My vision blurred for a half as second as the words were leaving my mouth.

“And why do I still feel like passing out?”

“I know you hit your head but how about you listen to my whole spiel before the questions fly out your mouth, doofus. OUTER DAMAGE. Mimics care about outer appearances only, so it won’t heal internal damage or blood loss. Or most status conditions for that matter. That blow to the noggin bled you out a good bit. Sad as it was to watch, your little panic attack most likely saved your life.”

“That’s still pretty useful all things considered. Thanks for letting me know Toots.”

“TOOTS? What the hell is that?” Tutor yelled, making my head pound even more.

“Well, you gave me such a lovely and creative nickname, I figured you deserved one too.”

“Fine, see if I give you any more free advice.”

“I thought it was your job.”

“Shut up.”

 

While our spat continued, a small spark of blue light radiated behind a tree a few dozen feet away. Catching my attention, I stopped arguing with Tutor and walked over towards it, hopping over some holes and climbing over some fallen trees until I was close.

I moved behind the tree and saw the source of the blue light, a huge silver feather with a streak of blue running along it in the shape of a lightning bolt. The feather must have been four feet long and a foot wide. It was slightly curved along it but no bends or breaks. The narrow edge and silver shading evoked the image of a blade. It was reminiscent of the large curved swords I saw in the many fantasy games I played.

Electricity sparked erratically across the plumage. I stood there enchanted by its ethereal beauty. The arcs running across it slowed down until they ultimately faded leaving a blue hue over the feather.

With curiosity and excitement taking over the reins, I walked over to examine it. As I touched it, my body shook internally and I released it immediately. The unpleasant sensation was sadly not unfamiliar. A run in with a live power cord and a puddle in my younger years made sure that I could never forget what electrocution felt like.

“Sunnava! Dang that stings.”

“Serves you right.” Tutor chimed in as usual.

I rolled my eyes. I had half a mind to leave the blasted thing, but with my years of expertise in RPGs I knew the feather had to be a legendary drop, and a literal one in this case. Plus, it was dope. But damn it hurt.

As my internal discourse continued, the blue shimmer on the feather did not. Seeing this, I cautiously poked the feather this time, but there wasn’t a reaction so I grabbed it. The feather was deceptively light, weighing next to nothing in my hands. I wielded it in both hands like a greatsword and sliced through the air. “Oh hell yeah.” I murmured to myself.

Fantasy nerd larping then ensued. Swish, swish, stab and all that. In my childish merriment, I didn’t notice how close to a tree I had gotten and sliced right into it, cutting it down. I was shocked at first but when I think about where it came from I should have expected it.

“Why wouldn’t a feather dropped by a magical storm bird cut through wood like a hot knife through butter?”

While Tutor berated me for my nerdy antics, I chose to ignore the robotic taunting and giggling aimed at my expense. Instead, I focused on seeing what else the feather could do. Aside from its crazy sharpness, one other ability came to light. When I swung the blade (feather) on its flat side, a gust of wind would burst from the end. The gust wasn’t that powerful, it only managed to move some dirt and leaves around. Nothing compared to the destruction its originator created. But, not gonna lie, it was fun as hell to play with. GROWL.

Jumping at the sound of the growl, I scanned the area before one more resounding growl revealed its source, my belly. The growl was so fierce that even with the evidence I had a hard time believing it was me. It must be another consequence of my mimic gene. The mysterious source of my powers.

With the excitement of the morning over, my body reminded me I hadn’t eaten for a full day. One positive from almost being simultaneously electrocuted and torn apart by a giant lightning hawk was that the violent storm it kicked up blew a bunch of fish out of the river, saving me the trouble of having to catch any. Gramps taught me how to spear fish but it was always a pain; so I was thankful for the free meal.

I fastened the loot to my back with some of the smaller vines lying around, trying my best to not damage it. Though I honestly doubt I could. I moved over to the riverbank to collect my bounty. As I grabbed the first fish, I wondered if it was safe to eat. It looked like a normal river trout but after the events of this morning I didn’t want to trust anything in this screwed up world.

“Is this safe?” Asking the air expecting a response from Tutor and only receiving a “Hmph,” in return. “Great, I pissed off the tutorial.”

As I lamented my position, the dark instinct from yesterday rose up, demanding me to consume morsel in my hands. I was too weak and hungry to control the violent urge and devoured the fish, finishing in only three bites. After gulping the last bite I stood in disbelief. I just ate a whole fish, not cleaning or cooking it. Bones and innards. And the worst part was, I wasn’t even close to feeling full.

 

It was the eighteenth fish that had finally subdued the ravenous hunger. Afterward, I crumbled to the ground. The combination of a full belly, exhaustion, and the stress of this morning all piled on thick. My body was demanding rest. I decided I may as well try sleeping in log mode. This choice was made mostly because the idea of climbing another tree so soon thoroughly terrified me and getting a shelter together seemed impossible with how heavy my body felt. Feeling my skin harden, my body changed into the familiar shape and my consciousness faded. I was out.

Stiff limbs greeted me as I woke up. The sun was still in the sky, but well past its zenith, telling me it was sometime in the afternoon. I wasn’t in log mode when I awoke. The dirt and rocks of the river shore made a terrible bed. But confirming that sleep stopped the mimicry was a step in the right direction on figuring out my new powers, even at the cost of a creaky back.

Sitting up, I looked down at my stomach. Not a peep since this morning's fish feast. Why eating that much raw untreated fish wasn’t exploding my bowels confused me. That amount of offal and waste should have me screaming for a toilet. I pestered Tutor a few times for an answer, until she finally broke the silent treatment she was giving me.

“You are part mimic, and guess what they do. That’s right, eat anything and everything that comes their way. Have you seen a mimic get a tummy ache?”

“I’ve never even seen a mimic.”

“Then why the hell did you pick it?”

“I didn’t. Terrence didn’t give me a choice, he didn’t really give me any choices. Well, aside from my name and race.”

“Really, you chose Liam Foster.”

Sensing that the conversation was going to lead nowhere I stopped talking and twisted my torso. Also, why is everyone picking on my name?

 

There wasn’t a single cloud in the bright beautiful sky. You would have never guessed a massive storm eagle had just plowed through, aside from the wanton natural destruction. I walked along the side of the riverbank basking in the warmth of the sun, the comfort almost convinced me to extend my nap. But a single gust of wind billowed across the river. I flinched as if my body had not forgotten this morning's events, reminding me I was in a world of danger and casually sleeping on the side of the river might not be the smartest decision.

I looked at my health bar. The rest and nourishment was apparently all I needed to recover because my health bar was up to about 60 percent. The power I gained astounded me.

How could I recover from such a nasty blow to the head, one that would have certainly killed a normal person, with just some fish and a nap? Well, a lot of fish I guess. I thought about asking Tutor some more questions but I had a feeling I wouldn’t get anything helpful. Standing up and wiping the dirt off my clothes, I knew it was time to make a plan. A plan to survive this world.

Putting together a small camp was the first part of the plan, which was the simple part due to the knowledge my grandfather instilled in me. The blade feather was also quite the boon; its sharpness must have come from some strange magical property because in order to cut through small trees and plants I had to use some mp. I didn’t find this out until I swung at a tree and the feather just bent along the trunk.

This also led to the discovery that mp regened much faster than health or stamina. I didn’t feel tired or drained from having no mp, another useful observation. The feather could even cut through rock at a much more substantial cost to my mp. I wish I had some inspection spell or ability because it probably had some other latent powers. Part of me wanted to experiment with the feather blade more, but shelter had to come first.

The rest of the day was spent building a small hut, Eeyore style, with pieces of wood leaning against each other in an upside down V shape, tied together with vines. I built it in the woods near the river, in the middle of some fallen trees surrounding it. I laid branches around it and on top of it hoping that would conceal it among the wreckage. Darkness had just begun its stretch across the forest as I was finishing. I crawled into my tree hut, put my feather down to my side and I went to sleep.

 

Dreams plagued with bittersweet memories from Earth were all that welcomed me that night. Parents I would never see again, younger siblings I couldn’t tease, students I could no longer teach. An adulterous grandfather I wouldn’t learn from anymore. All these things swirled in my head until finally my eyes shot open.

Rustling sounds coming from outside. Judging from the sounds, whatever was moving had to be big. It was very early in the morning; the forest bathed in blue telling the world the sun was just about to rise. I slowly crawled out of my sleeping quarters hoping to see what was causing the ruckus. It sounded like it was moving toward the river, so I followed it.

My mind filled with imagination and a healthy bit of fear as I wondered what my next encounter in this world would be. What terrifying magical beast would I encounter? A wolf with fire steaming off its claws, a lion with toxic spikes and venom dripping out of its jaw.

Nope, none of these. It was a bear. A black bear much like the one I ran off with my grandfather’s help while staying in the mountains a few years back. It was bigger than your usual black bear though. The mundane sight had disappointed me a little. In a world where lightning birds soared the skies, it was a bit surprising to see such a mundane animal. But as I was about to turn away and leave the bear to its business. Tutor’s oh-so-wonderful voice popped up in my head.

“Ahem,” clearing her nonexistent throat, “not telling you what to do but maybe, just maybe, now is a good time to test out some more of those powers of yours.”

“I was gonna. Just looking around first. You know, scout the area.” I lied. I forgot about my powers and just wanted to sleep more. But Tutor was right, it was a good time to use the other half of the mimic gene, Creature Mimicry. So I looked at the bear from a distance.

This time I wanted to test the range of the ability. I tried using the power several times each time getting about five feet closer. Sweat was forming on my brow, as I clutched my feather blade in case I spooked the bear and it attacked. I was about 25 feet away when I finally got the confirmation from the ability.

The sensation differed from when I mimicked the log. There was an exactness to the previous transformation. My body tried to remember every part of the log: color, shape, texture, size. This time however was not so formal. No, it was almost primal.

An itching sensation crawled along my skin as dark fur sprouted along my limbs. Claws formed at the end of my hands, along with rough pads on my palms and fingers. Scents of the forest and the river flared in my nostrils more intensely than ever. After the transformation finished, I looked down at my body. Black fur escaped out of every opening in my now tight-fitting clothes. I must have grown half a foot and put on 15 pounds of muscle because the cloth around my arms and legs felt ready to burst at the slightest movement. And a familiar chime echoed in my head accompanied by a notification.

[Mimic Entry “URSA” Recorded]

[Proficiency Level 1]

“Huh. That new. Pproff… profaciny… Pror. Why can’t I pronunce it.”

“I knew you were dumb but come on. Sound it out Pro - fi - shen - cee.” Tutor mocked.

“SHUT UP! me not DUMB!” I roared at the disembodied voice while swiping the air around my head.

My mind felt muddled, why am I so mad? Why is thinking making me mad? And hot for that matter. I want to go lay in the shade.

And so I did. I walked back to my camp and attempted to crawl into my log tent, but failed. I hadn’t built it with my new size in mind. This enraged me even more. I then promptly destroyed it in one quick violent swipe of my paw-hands (I guess?). I walked over to the bottom of a still standing tree and laid down and fell asleep.

 

I woke up around noon. I wasn’t as hairy anymore and my clothes seemed to fit again, well maybe a little stretched out. Which told me I couldn’t sleep with creature mimicry either. I cursed myself about going to sleep so quickly instead of investigating my new form. I wasn’t even sure what I looked like in that form. It definitely wasn’t a perfect copy like with object mimicry. This I gathered from the fact that I still fit in my clothes while in the form, even if they were a bit tight. That bear would not have.

Tutor was as unhelpful as always. After a few questions she responded in her ever so charming way, “Figure it out on your own,” and “Stop being an idiot.” So instead I went to look at my Character sheet. The scroll appeared in front of me and I looked down at the abilities tab.

Abilities:

Active:

Mimicry (Object) (lvl1): Copy the likeness of one object. You gain the stats of the object while active. May be canceled at any time. [Recorded Entries]

Mimicry (Creature) (lvl1): Mimic one creature of your choice. This may include stats, abilities, spells and other aspects. May be canceled at any time. [Recorded Entries]

 

I poked at the recorded entries button on the creature tab.

Recorded Profiles:

URSA - Proficiency Level: 1

Type: Beast

Timer: 1 Hour

Stat Changes:

STR + 3

DEX - 2

AGI + 0

CON + 5

INT - 3

WIS + 2

CHR + 0

Abilities:

Ursa-Rage:

Put yourself into a fit of Rage. While raging, you gain a + 10 boost in STR and CON, at the cost of - 10 to the mental stats. You also gain a 10% unarmed damage increase and a 10% damage reduction. These bonuses increase with proficiency.

Learned Behavior:

Unlocked at higher proficiency.

 

Well that explains the grammar problems. I must have unintentionally activated Ursa-Rage. Geeze. A ten point drop to mental fortitude seems steep, especially when I’m already losing some just being in the form, even if the physical boosts seem good.

I guess that's part of the problem I’m having though. Everything seems good or bad. I don’t have any real information to help me understand what these stat changes even mean. I sighed.

“Hey Tutor.”

“No.”

“Yeah I thought so.”