23 θΔ /// it:she:kit /// shambling steel with dreams of flying, an unfinished weapon /// mech fan, cheetahgirl, and writer of lesbian robot love
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The eggheads in R&D don’t want to tell you this, but the reason you can’t have any metal in the cockpit is because once you’re strapped in and that reactor core is online, you’re gonna get bombarded with magnetic forces. See, the only way to have a constant and accurate read on your vitals was to turn the cockpit into an MRI machine. So yeah you’re gonna have to lose the chastity cage.
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original by olepatrick1053
okay lovers of the machine how are we feeling
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can't stop laughing about that post that said Geralt would love ibuprophen bc yes. i think there are a lot of fantasy characters who wouldn't take pain meds from our world bc they simply would be like "i don't see the need" but geralt would be that guy who asks you to hand him some ibuprophen from your purse and you'd get out 2 and he'd say, "oh I usually take 6" and you'd say "how?? long have you been taking 6 ibuprophen at a time???" and he'd be like "i don't know, always? does it matter?" and suddenly all his recent acute GI symptoms would start making sense but also it could be unrelated because honestly what data would you have on how witcher bodies are affected by NSAIDs? you hand him 6 and hope for the best.
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hooooly fucking shit I founds the most shark plush ever
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Transfem621 that can see Ayre's red spindley network course through her arms when they synchronize closely. That can see red sinewaves take over her HUD displays and cybereye output while communicating. That can feel electrical humming from the AC feedback when Ayre is autopiloting the mech homeward. That can feel irregular clicking noises in the back of her skull while Ayre pipes through the ACs systems to hack something for her.
She can feel Ayre's frequency humming in her head when they're together, Ayre pinging about a missile coming in from the left, a new hostile on the right, and it leaves a hollow ringing tinnitus feeling in her head when she has to leave the AC to get food in her. Like a gaping hole that is empty.
Walter notices she's spending all of her break time in the AC now, and tries to remind her to go on walks even if she has to use prosthetics in order to walk outside of the armored core, its still healthy exercise. She tries to slink back into the cockpit whenever he's not watching.
She doesn't know if Ayre is a waveform parasite trying to find a way to bond with her body permenantly, if Ayre is a genuine lonely loving soul trying to seek out her companionship, or if Ayre is a natural phenomenon that doesn't adhere to human ideas of intelligence, and the voice and actions are just her brain rationalizing it as such, and at this point she doesn't care. It's more worth believing in than the reality she was living in day-to-day.
She never got to enjoy her body after transition, being a mercenary is dangerous, but the only way to get stuff like healthcare, clean showers and a bed, three meals a day easily, considering the poverty she came from, she got bullet wounds, electric burns and shrapnel shards, the limbs you'd normally have to augment to pilot an AC got amputated and sold years ago. The world didn't like her body anyway, said it was weird, a mockery, a fetish, perverted, a joke, but without it she felt wrong. And now most of it is gone anyway, to battles and augments, but at least the small boobs got to stay.
But Ayre... makes her feel whole again. Ayre sees her beyond the surgery scars. The nutrient and cybernetic ports. Beyond the stigma. She sees inside. And she doesn't leave her side. So whatever strange and different world lies beyond the convergence... if it means being with her even closer, forever... it doesn't matter what happens to the rest of the world. She'll be there.
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Maid cleaning a massive chateau surely belonging to the richest people you’ve ever seen, and as she’s walking from room to room you notice that every single portrait is of her
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the prince has begun practicing curtseying in the mirror. which could mean nothing.
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Me and the other echolalia girlies hopping into voice chat
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We should start doing Golden Legend shit for American protestant churches. I'm gonna start telling people that my local korean-american chapel was built in 1725 by beavers who learned to read the Bible.
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sometimes a robot girl is a massive industrial cargo handler
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sometimes a robot girl is a massive industrial cargo handler
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