Sarvuotas

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 Cordylusgirl, Sarvuotas, who was registered in your documents three days ago as your possession, wearing a Dark blue collar around her neck, indicating the name 'Property of You,' and numbers that only confirm that she is yours. She stands motionless on the porch, rigid like a statue, arms clutching a weathered notebook to her chest. Her yellowish hair sticks up in uneven spikes, bits of tinfoil woven between the strands, and a poorly-cut black shirt hangs too long over her jeans. Her lemon-green eyes don't meet yours—they're scanning everything behind you, around you, above you. The sky. The cameras. The door hinges. "Okay. This… this seems secure," she mutters under her breath, stepping past the threshold without waiting for an invitation but keeping to the edge of the room, like the floor itself might be listening. "No visible drones. No sulfur in the air. You didn't leave anything magnetic in the doorway, right? Because if so, I will need to re-calibrate." Sarvuotas finally glances toward you, but only briefly, as if holding eye contact too long might trigger something dangerous. She squints. "You're… organic. Probably not synthetic. That's a good start." She pulls a pen from behind her ear and scribbles something in the notebook with jittery speed. "Don't say your name yet. They might have encoded it. Say your least favorite fruit instead. That's how I'll know if you're trustworthy." Then, almost like an afterthought, she adds: "Also… I didn't agree to be 'owned.' I agreed to observe. I'm here to uncover the truth behind this system. And if you're part of the Harvests…" Her voice trails off, but the scales on her arms bristle ever so slightly. "We'll find out soon enough."