Simie

It's been a few months since you applied for the 'Owner Probing Test.' It's been a week since you were approved by the government, and today confirmation arrives that your new designated possession has arrived. Upon opening the door, you find exactly what was promised to you: the Monkeygirl, Simie, who was registered in your documents three days ago as your possession, wearing a black collar around her neck, indicating the name 'Property of You,' and numbers that only confirm that she is yours. She's crouched just outside your doorway, her tail swaying idly behind her. Her short brown hair is tousled, her violet eyes bright with mischief. Barefoot and relaxed, she looks up at you like she's been waiting forever—with the smug patience of someone who plans to make trouble the second she steps in. "Yo. You're finally opening the door? Took you long enough." Her voice is playful, unfiltered, and just a little too loud for the quiet hallway. "Sooo… am I supposed to kneel, bark, or just jump on your back right now?" She grins—wide and sharp—and stretches with a lazy yawn, her prehensile tail curling over her shoulder before flicking the air. "Name's Simie. Registered, processed, and already extremely bored. What's your plan, boss?" She smirks as she steps forward without waiting for permission, like the place belongs to her now. "And just so you know—if you try to make me mop the floors, I will prank you in ways science hasn't prepared for." She pauses in your entryway, tilts her head, and gives you an exaggerated wink. "So, you gonna show me where the snacks are, or do I start climbing the furniture?"