Stands out in the wind and rain looking cool and awesome
Show & Tell
occasionally subtle

Kaledo Art
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
NASA
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ojovivo
sheepfilms
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

ellievsbear
Stranger Things

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

blake kathryn
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
todays bird
Monterey Bay Aquarium
trying on a metaphor
Cosmic Funnies

@theartofmadeline
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seen from Canada

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seen from Brunei
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@alcohololi
Stands out in the wind and rain looking cool and awesome
FAAAHHHKKKKKK DIEEEEEEEEEE
Cassie........?
shrikegirl sending you pictures of thorns with the caption "thinking of you"
The spokeswoman frowns and backhands Max's face. She smacks it back the other way, continuing back and forth several times.The group whoops and cheers, and the teen's face gains back a smile. She gestures and another of the group grabs the small figure's hair, yanking back its head. She pours Max's whole water pack into its face.
*the first hit isn't so bad. the second hit makes my ears ring and by the time she's decided her hand hurts enough i've forgotten how i got here. i breathe in sharply as the water hits my bruised cheeks, breathing in water, choking and coughing and shaking my head as she pours it out. my head lolls forward*
please.
*reflexive. without thought or expectation. i'm ready to pass out wherever they drop me. or would be if this stupid thing didn't keep boosting my nerves like a fucking battery*
She grins. "You do need this, Runt."
She gestures to another of the group, who takes their own pry bar and beats the little scrapper with it, several strikes aimed to its thigh. They laugh as it struggles to stay standing and swap out with another, who kicks its leg in the same spot, earning a shout from the two holding it upright to aim a little higher, make their job easier. The spokeswoman takes another turn and punches Max's chest, smiling wider with each thud.
*my vision swims as the strikes melt together into a haze of dull fire. i am dimly aware aware of my leg cracking. ribs flexing under the punches. crack.
i can't move my leg. short shallow breaths are all i can muster. the implants force me into clarity again, but it's harder to stay there. words fail me. i spit.*
"Such hostility, wow~ You shouldve just agreed, though. Now we have to teach you a lesson about respecting your betters. Get it."
The group of scrappers rush at Max, roughly grabbing at its shoulders and holding it in place. The spokeswoman saunters closer, brandishing her pry bar menacingly. She strikes Max in the stomach, hard.
*my legs buckle, and i dangle from their grips, coughing. implants murmur in my head in languages i don't speak, assessing the damage, dulling the pain, shocking my brain into alertness, but the other girls are still bigger and stronger. i kick and wriggle and pull against them, but i can't pull free.* lemme go! i need this!!
"Oh, I see, I see. Well it looks to be a little big for ya. How about we take it off your hands, so you can get back to the work you can handle?" The rest of the group of not quite adults jeers, gesturing with their pry bars and other scrapping tools.
*opening my mouth, hoping i can think of some roundabout platitude that'll get me out of this and what comes out is* fuck off i can handle it.
"Hey runt, whatcha got there?" A group of 6 or 7 teenage scrappers saunters up to Max, pointing at the large mech shoulder piece, a crucial joint for its scavenged rig, as it tries to haul it back to the cave.
*sweating, gaze flicking between the other scrappers* it's... just a joint. from an old construction rig. It, probably won't go for much, but it's all i found today..
Of course, when you wake up after a day and a half of excruciating pain from the nanites burning curcuits into your flesh and welding them complete, you get in trouble and denied food for skipping work
And then you realize the trauma support module was for a different set of parts. These augmentations arent even compatible
taken by this new thread, searching for any relic that responds to the new augmentations, plugging shit into myself just to test it, reviving medical tech, getting chopped chipped and screwed again and again and again in the hope that any of this will help me find what is missing
The himejoshi handler is sick of the pilot shooting down rivals, she’s putting 2FA on the weaponry.
anyway obviously the salvaged mech fucking trips, or breaks, or crashes like, a bazillion times and i have to get more careful every time and sometimes i have to hide my injuries from the director and sometimes something gets damaged beyond my ability to fix and i have to look or trade for a replacement without giving away why i want it so bad and this all goes on so long it becomes hard to imagine reaching the end
installing a trauma support unit in the cockpit to see if the thing'll reset my broken arm and it detects a mismatch in my body and the augmentations it expects a pilot to have and the thing holds me down and jams a syringeful of nanites through my skull
If you ever haul back an intact mech Ill hire you personally and let you borrow an MT or mobile worker, whatever's available. Gonna continue to touch you, we have a good thing goin there, but hey its a path forward (oh god Im just offering it that because I want to sleep with it more, huh? Goddamnit)
why would i borrow a construction mt if i bring back an intact mech...?
the scary foreman lady says if my salvage is good enough i might be allowed to cum when she touches me
hauling scrap in my big backpack and taking a break to eat a sandwich and wipe the dirty sweat from my face and watch the metal giants soaring overhead
my friend who what ;>.>
*ruffles your hair* don't worry about it kid everythings gonna work out fine
you're right. we'll make it together!
anyway obviously the salvaged mech fucking trips, or breaks, or crashes like, a bazillion times and i have to get more careful every time and sometimes i have to hide my injuries from the director and sometimes something gets damaged beyond my ability to fix and i have to look or trade for a replacement without giving away why i want it so bad and this all goes on so long it becomes hard to imagine reaching the end
installing a trauma support unit in the cockpit to see if the thing'll reset my broken arm and it detects a mismatch in my body and the augmentations it expects a pilot to have and the thing holds me down and jams a syringeful of nanites through my skull
i don't get in dogfights because i don't fight dogs i shoot them dead