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I know the feeling

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Beware the Pipeline

Whether it is a teacher or a handler you want to be praised and told “Good Job”.

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source

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Lock On! ‘Omega Boost’ PlayStation Support us on Patreon

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dynamics

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New jacket to celebrate one year of HRT. And you KNOW I'm going to be wearing it when I finally play Mechwarrior 5:Clans this weekend

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How does a one call a mech pilot who fell in love with its combat doll ?

I'm asking it for a fellow squad member.

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got fucking nuclear @'d by this image on discord so im blasting all of you too now

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THREE DOLLARS

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Steel-Bound :

I don’t regret my organic body. It was a weakness. A cage of flesh and bone that left me vulnerable, broken, and exploited. I was a prey, a pawn on the battlefield, a disposable existence in the eyes of those who sent me to die for them. But I survived.

I am a pilot now. No. I am the machine itself. My neural system is synchronized with the hydraulics, my mind is sharpened by the drugs. My movements are precise, powerful. My orders are executed without hesitation.

I am stronger. I am faster. I am resilient.

Some say abandoning humanity for a body of steel is a tragedy, that this isn't truly living. But to me, this is freedom. Freedom from weakness, from pain, from the limitations of my old self.

I have found comrades, others like me. Steel-bound minds who understand what it means to exist between two worlds.

No one will ever break me again.

I may not have chosen this existence, but I endured. This life is mine, and I fought for it.

Now, I can say that I am truly alive.

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After years, she's finally home.

Your older mech pilot sister, finally decommissioned after the war ended, stands before you. You haven’t seen her in years. She wasn’t even allowed to be there for Mom’s funeral after Dad went Killed in Action.

You had to grow up alone, facing the grief and loneliness in silence. She wasn’t there to protect you, to offer comfort, to soothe your heart. And now, you worry she’s not the kind and caring sister you remember.

She looks tired, worn down by endless battles, her eyes are hollow and distant, the weight of her trauma deeply carved into her face. She’s been through things you can’t even imagine. Her body is covered in scars, with mechanical limbs and implants that make her seem more machine than human. She’s definitely not the same as she used to be.

But still, you want to believe that, somehow, the bond from your childhood is still there, that the sister who fought so hard to survive is still inside, waiting to be found.

As you arrive home, she simply pulls you into her arms. Her body is shaking with the weight of everything she’s been through.. Her tears soak your shoulder as she whispers :

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn't be there for you. During the whole conflict, I was just… fighting to stay alive, hoping there would be better times for us. I’ll do anything to make you happy again. I missed you too.”

Her words hit like a punch, and in that moment, you understand how much she’s suffered, how deeply the war has scarred her. She reaches for her bag and pulls out a small device that, despite being quite damaged, looks like her lifeline. She pushes a small button and then, it starts to play. It was the same song you both used to listen to when you couldn't fall asleep.

For a brief moment, the weight of the years and the pain fades away. Maybe she’s still kind. Maybe, despite everything she has endured, she’s still the sister who cared about you.

Maybe, just maybe, the pieces of your broken family can still be put back together.

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my pilot overslept...

"...Seraphim! Seraphim, this is Pulsar! Come in immediately!" Pulsar paced frantically, hand to her headset, in the "command building", a run-down adobe structure with rain steadily dripping into the buckets placed at the most inconvenient possible spots on the stone tile floor. She kicked one, and it toppled sideways, sloshing water over the floor and some desk jockey's boots. She ignored his glare.

They'd been supposed to intercept 3 minutes ago, and it wasn't like regions of ramshackle villages like this had any dedicated defensive measures. The local council just paid mercs like Pulsar's team to patrol around and hoped they scared off raiders or were lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. Pulsar wasn't feeling real lucky right at that moment. "Private Seraphim, so help me God if you don't-" Finally, FINALLY, her radio crackled, and a groggy voice muttered, "Hey, boss, morning, chill the fuck out or something. What are we working with here, anyway..." "It's a few dozen shard drones, again, 60 klicks south-south-east, whoever's camped out in the canyons is still trying to catch us off guard. Which is apparently working, by the way? Do you want to explain why you weren't up on time?" "Hey, Pulsar, just, like, relax or something. Remember last night? You were all, Oh, let's just watch some TV and cuddle, and then you ended up begging me to fuck your brains out. You were plenty laid back after that." "I did not - " "That kind of exercise tires a girl out, ya know." "Private, this is an open channel - " "Private, you don't outrank me anyway, so just be a good girl and calm the fuck down." Right as Pulsar was about to scream into her headset, an indistinct tremor went through the air, followed by a slight rumbling under Pulsar's feet, and another, quieter voice joined the radio, "Torque here - excuse me misses, apologies for interrupting, but Seraphim's all ready for takeoff - antigrav just kicked in and jets are about to redline. Standard cocktail, Pulsar? Anything nearby on radar?" "Seraphim, you're cleared for takeoff." As the roar of jet engines filled the air, Pulsar smiled, "And, Torque - give her double. Pulsar out."

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exploring the concept of omninet streaming for the "By Star and Melody" Lancer supplement