Smeagol I
Meg huffed, and stretched under the blankets.
The hour was late, and as usual her master was still awake, paying more attention to the noisy and warm lightbox than he was to her. Maybe if she farted.
Meg farted.
"Goddamn it Meg, that stinks."
She shouldn't have done that, that stench was terrible, but thankfully most of it was under the blankets where her master was, and her head was out in the cold air.
"You're not getting any more fish."
It was his own fault. He should have taken her for a walk.
"Go on, get outside."
Meg wasn't going anywhere, it's cold out of the blanket. She put her head back down and closed her eyes. Maybe if she dreams of running along the dunes again, he'll eventually turn the lightbox off.
...
"-want to be a ROB. "
SOMEONE NEW WAS IN HER MASTERS ROOM! NO-ONE WILL HURT HIM!
"Meg, sit. Stop barking!"
Like he could stop her. But Meg sat and raised her right paw, when she sits, she sometimes gets treats.
Her master spoke again "No, I was filling this out as a fantasy for being an SI."
The new voice spoke again "That's not how that works." There's no scent of any new humans in the room. Is the sound coming from the lightbox again? Megs master will probably be awake for more longers again. "An SI is just a character that dreams that it's real. If you become a Random Omnipotent Bastard, you're the one subjecting it to random encounters, creating the world it survives in, and the people it interacts with. It moves in the dream you create, while you punish and reward based on how it entertains you."
Yes. It's just the lightbox. Meg walked around in a circle, digging at the doona, trying to figure out how to get under the blankets again. Of course. Meg looked at her master and put her front paw down on his hand.
"Excuse me a moment-" her master said, but strangely, not to her. "Get of the doona, dumbass and I'll lift it up." What did he want? "Off the bed! Up!" Meg obediently jumped off the bed and returned to find the blankets had been lifted again. Putting her paw on his hand worked. It is magic.
"So? Was I right?" The voice laughed stupidly, like her master used to do when he pretended to be insane. "Did you want to be a ROB?"
"Well, I hadn't thought being a God was on the table. It does put me in less danger, even if the setup was for a Brute, Thinker, Tinker."
"Gods are just a Mortal conceit. To be a ROB, you need understanding, and to pass the challenges thrown at you."
If her master would not let her sleep, Meg would fart again.
"So, being a ROB isn- GODDAMNIT!"
Meg had farted again.