New character I'm working on.
Emmeli the lighthouse keeper (/small fishing village guardian), age 38.Former pirate hunter and privateer for the WHITE STAR™ Shipping company.
seen from China

seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from Brazil
seen from Uruguay

seen from Germany

seen from United States
seen from United States
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seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from China

seen from United States

seen from United States
New character I'm working on.
Emmeli the lighthouse keeper (/small fishing village guardian), age 38.Former pirate hunter and privateer for the WHITE STAR™ Shipping company.
I find it really interesting how well some mechsploitation writing captures the feeling of a machine being an extension of the body.
I'm a full-time wheelchair user and can say from experience, it *is* my legs. After a while the brain just registers it as part of you.
If something is damaged or calibrated wrong, it feels like walking with a limp. Unusual noises feel like they're coming from your joints. It's deeply intimate and sometimes unsettling when someone reaches into the mechanisms you can't see to adjust something or make repairs.
While obviously it has no sense of touch, someone laying their hands on it feels deeply personal, and invasive if they do so without permission.
Even when I'm not in it, seeing people handle it feels strange, like an out-of-body experience seeing someone handling your limp form.
I can't stay in my chair all the time. It doesn't recline and has little padding so I get sore after long periods, and my country is also quite bad for wheelchair access. With help and a cane I can walk very short distances and transfer to a regular chair. But it's a strange kind of nakedness and helplessness without it. I've seen no better description of that feeling than the way pilots are portrayed outside of their mechs.
I was at a strategic planning meeting and they were talking about how they keep losing pilots in frontline assaults against the forcefemme hivemind so I asked how bad our numbers were and they told me they just need to boost recruitment and training for new mech pilots so I said it sounds like we're just feeding pilots to the forcefemme hivemind and then one of the generals started crying.
Robots are machines used by girls to kiss other girls
I'm so touch starved in the way that I need to desperately be inside someone. Something. Anything.
I need to feel a full-body squeeze so much tighter and more intimate than than a hug. I can't relax without feeling myself sink deeper into another person's being. I need to be caressed by your insides.
I'm so emotionally fragile I need some kind of giant entity who loves and craves my tiny form and wishes to secure my well-being and happiness with their enormous form and power: A dragon bonded to their rider; a mech AI protecting their pilot; a diety blessing their mortal priest.
I want us to share emotions and sensations. I want you to feel my body relax into your presence as your very existence soothes the fear, loneliness, and anxiety I feel when we're not together. I want to feel satisfaction bleeding through our connection as it deepens and broadens, and I sink into you once again. I want to feel the pride and awe for my blind trust and faith in you bubble up alongside that inhuman desire to protect, claim, devour, and dominate me.
I need to be mentally, emotionally, neurologically, sexually, psychically and/or spiritually bonded to a being far too big for conventional love. I want to belong to someone - to something much greater and larger than myself. I want to be your doll. your prey. your pawn. your toy. your snack. your tool. your pet.
Let me be your bleeding, beating heart while you become the growling, roaring cage that surrounds me.
Your body is my temple, and I will worship it from within and without
for all of my days.
Imagine a mech that isnt complete until you pilot her. She craves the feeling of your dexterous fingers spidering across her controls. She yearns for the neural connection with you, to feel your mind brush against her matricies. She needs, desperately, to feel you inside her, to give her everything to your success -- to you -- and all she asks in return is to keep a little piece of your mind. Each and every time. Until you are hers and she is yours and the two of you are inextricable and inextinguishable from one another in function and form
due to budget restrictions we will now be assigning 2 mech pilots to every mech.
oh- oh good heavens. what are they doing to each other in there. oh goodness gracious...
Handlers who replace their Hound's normal, boring, rebel dog tags (ew!) with Imperial dog tags shaped like dog bones (yay!)