Argus
Rat warlock librarian character description (from 2010, character elaborated into Mnemos since then)
While most onlookers would at first glance think that the job description of Argus the rat is limited to being a librarian, he thinks of himself more as the caretaker to his own kind of aviary. Even though he's a warlock first and foremost, he also thinks of himself as part of the tradition of the rats who would be allowed to scurry around the libraries in the temples of Ganesh.
Even when people see the books in his library flap their covers and pages to fly from one shelf to another, they think it must either be a trick or sorcery that he's using to animate them and bend them to his own will. In fact, nothing of the sort is really taking place - the books are alive themselves, and Argus has no power over them, nor would he use it over them if he did. The reason for which they stay there is that they are all books that have been banned by the authorities because their content has been deemed unacceptable for readers' consumption by them, and that they have sent out agents to scour the land in search of them to burn the library to the ground. He thinks of the books as an endangered species that are being targeted by indiscriminate hunters because of fear-mongering, his library their nature preserve. The authorities spread the belief that rats are responsible for the Plague that's devastated the land. Argus knows, because of the forbidden knowledge that he's gained from having read the pages of some of his flying friends, that it's really the government who's responsible for having created the Plague and for having infected rats to use them as scapegoats for it, and that this is also why the authorities want him burned at the stake.
If the library did get invaded, rather than using the books as weapons against attackers at the risk of seeing harm come to them from it, he'd use the mechanism he's built into the wall to open up the library's roof so he could release the giant flock of flying books from it. Rather than learning pyrokinesis, he's mastered phlogistic magic so that he can salvage and reassemble the disassembled particles of banned books, rats and witches after they've been burned. Sometimes while he'll be writing, carefully avoiding tickling the pages with his quill, a fluttering notebook will come to perch on his finger, and he'll stop to watch it gently walk around on his hand before it flies off again. He can throw those same quills dipped in ink with the speed, strength and accuracy of throwing darts. He can sprout large pigeon wings from his back, because if pigeons are to be referred to as rats with wings, far be it for him to consider that a bad thing. It's also a reference to carrier pigeons. While he wouldn't express his dissatisfaction with it quite the same way, the pigeons wings are still also a functional reflection of what his opinion of public art tends to be.
He carries a rubber chicken and twists its neck over pentagrams for summonings, because it doesn't scream and because it's more economical for him to do so, since he can simply use the same chicken over and over, and wouldn't want to summon anything that wouldn't have the sense of humor to appreciate it anyway. His message to the world is that knowledge is not an enemy to be kept out at all costs, and that even if you end up saying or writing things that other people don't want to hear or read, you are not tainted. You are not disgusting. You are not sick.