Disney lawsuit in 5... 4... 3...

In the interlude between simulations, Brian pushed a handful of Cheetos into his mouth while the Professor wafted a textbook at the ailing college mainframe's steaming radiator. Along the row of students, Kirstie was clutching a non-existent arrow wound in her neck, the imaginary shock of which had knocked the air from her real lungs. It had taken two deaths at Brian's hand for her to start to grow suspicious and two more to confirm it. She strained up in her chair as far as the wired neural headgear would allow, waving a hand furiously.

"Professor, professor! Brian is cheating! He's already in Oregon. He's playing a Native American!" she squealed accusatorily.

"Ah, I see you've started to notice our agent of chaos." the Professor chuckled. "Little Singing Bird Of The Flower is racking up quite the body count, isn't she? I suppose there's no point in keeping it a secret any longer. Brian has been assisting with the simulation by playing a member of the Shoshone tribe. Many of you may very well have encountered him already without realizing it. He's been adding a touch of unpredictability. Well it would hardly be fair if the indigenous AI reacted the same way every time, would it?"

Murmurs filled the lecture hall. Students reassessed the interactions they'd had with what they'd assumed to be NPCs. Had that been Brian all along? Kirstie was stretching up even higher in her seat, waggling her arm.

"But Professor, it's offensive! He's appropriating! I should know - I'm 1/64th Native American."

"And Brian is 3/128th," the professor countered. Kirstie recoiled from her second killing blow in two minutes. There was no recovering from that. "As a matter of fact, he's playing as a recreation of one of his ancestors, his great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother. Quite a sensitive portrayal of her it is too, I might add. Now, every moment of your complaint is costing the class days of valuable learning time so if you have something you need to discuss with Brian, I ask you to do it in-game at 10,000 times the speed."

With that, he flicked a switch. As their minds were drained back into the mainframe, Brian saw Kirstie's venomous glare, as she levelled finger-guns at him.

---------------------

Brian opened Little Singing Bird's eyes on the banks of Snake River,. This early in the year, the scene was serene and idyllic. Come summer, the ford would be swarming with settlers and their wagons. A songbird alighted on the log beside him to break the quiet. The sense of paradise lost was perhaps a little overwrought. He'd have to recommend the Professor reign it in a little.

Resisting the urge to break into a Disney song or two, he stretched out his supple body in the sun and lay, looking eastward with a frown. Somewhere out there, across thousands of miles of digital landscape, Kirstie was loading her wagon. She'd most likely be assembling a posse of her like-minded peers -fellow members of the Student Cultural Sensitivity Association- to flush him out, loading themselves with enough firearms to kill every native that stood in their way.

Lost in thought, he didn't hear his lover calling him back to the village. He remained oblivious until his great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather wrapped his arms around him, drawing him into a deep kiss. Brian savored it while it lasted.

"The food is getting cold, little bird. What troubles you in that direction?" the man asked.

"Nothing for you to worry about, my love," Brian replied with a sweet, sad smile, tracing his hands along the hard muscles of the NPC's chest. With so much of the limited processing power monopolized in the player-dense villages to the east of the simulation, his 'husband' was rendered with a broad brush - all oiled, bulging muscles; capable of flipping from brutal savagery to wistful contemplations on the color of the wind in an instant. Absolutely tasteless. All the nuance of a brick, with barely a megabyte bouncing between those ears. Brian wouldn't have him any other way.

Tomorrow, he'd need to start preparing the NPCs for Kirstie's arrival. Of course, he'd need to start by earning some leverage over his husband tonight. His body trembled at the thought. For all of the NPC's simplicity, his rough hands had taught Brian things he never knew he never knew.