You see an older man, the Janitor, in his dirty uniform staring down at you from high above. You realize you are resting haphazardly on the floor of the closet, just in front of his work worn leather boots. He bends down, and in his thick fingers you are gently raised upward off of the floor, so easily resting there between them. There warmth fills you, that is when you realize you have me cold and lifeless all day.
The Janitor holds you there in front of his sun worn face. A man in his mid 40's, bearded, wearing a pair of round wire framed glasses that reflect an image back upon you. You see the Janitor is holding a clean rag in his hand, and that the rag is really you.
"Well, well, well, aren't you just a handy tool boy. I am really going to enjoy owning something like you. Though to be honest you aren't a "you" any longer, just a thing. No need to study anymore at least, especially magical items since "you" are one. A perfect Janitor's Apprentice, though more of a Janitor's Tool from now on."
The Janitor then unceremoniously wipes his forehead and stuffs you into a pocket, leaving a salty musky flavor and scent within you. One that you can't make go away.
The day continues on, you find yourself being a myriad of cleaning implements and tools to make small repairs. There's no getting away from the situation, and every time you aren't needed you find yourself back being a rag for the Janitor to wipe the sweat off with.
"Well that's a full day of work, let's get my little apprentice home now, and I can really lay claim to ya. Get used to your permanent owner y favorite tool, you're stuck being mine forever."
With that the Janitor shoves you in his pocket before heading home for the day. You shudder, thinking of what will coming for you tonight.