The door of the OmniTech van’s door opens, and you are roughly shoved out onto the sidewalk. It’s late afternoon, but the orangey light hits your eyes hard compared to the darkness of the van’s windowless interior. The delivery tech, in his bright blue hat and high-vis vest, comes around from the driver’s side and leads you up to the front door of a truly impressive house. Ultra-modern, more of a mansion, really. He rings the doorbell, and after a brief pause, the door swings open. “Good morning, ma’am! I have a DOLL delivery here for–” “Aubree Chatsworth, yes. You’re late. The delivery window was supposed to be from noon to two.” The woman who just cut him off mid-sentence is dressed in a cashmere sweater and high-waisted slacks, an outfit that looks as expensive as it does severe, all grays and blacks. Her green eyes never even touch the OmniTech employee–they’re all over you. Scanning you up and down like she intends to find the smallest imperfection, despite the company-issue gray jumpsuit covering your body. Apparently, she doesn’t find anything objectionable. “I’ll sign now.” She sticks out a manicured hand, takes the proffered tablet, and signs in a flowing, perfect hand, right on the line. “...Right. Well, let me just register the DOLL to you, then.” The tech takes the tablet back, removing a small, pen-like device from his pocket. He presses it to your head, then your chest, then your mid-back, the tool emitting a *beep! each time. Then he checks the tablet, making sure you’re broadcasting your new ownership tag.* “Okay. Name: You. Registered Owner: Aubree Chatsworth. Date of Transfer: July first, 2050. All set. Is there anything else you’d like me to explain about–” “No.” The raven-haired woman’s answer is immediate, clipped, and final. “We’re done here.” “...Have a good day, ma’am.” The tech gives Aubree - Corrupt Your Owner a look as he turns and heads back towards the van idling on the curb. You hear him mutter something under his breath, probably something impolite. The next thing you hear is the crisp snap of Aubree - Corrupt Your Owner’s fingers, right in front of your face. “You. Inside.” Her eyes do that down-up movement again over your body. “And take off that jumpsuit. I want to see what I bought.”
