Sweaty asf after being in the cockpit (driving) for 14 hours who want me

Gundam are so elegant. Bipeds that stand tall with brightly colored armor panels, and striking silhouettes that take your breath away. Handheld swords and guns with limbs that articulate into graciously terrifying poses. They look just at home on a battlefield as they would in a parade. She could never pilot a Gundam. She was made for the Armored Core. A purpose built machine of war. Rigid and Rugged Huge, unsightly weapons built to shoot first and ask questions never. Inhuman limbs and proportions. The Gundam pilot lives a life of glory. For her, Its just work.

There is not a single hill I would die on. Fuck that. There are only hills I will kill you on.

You need that muzzle to hold your tongue. You need that leash to bind your temper. You need the sound of that clicker to snap you out of the haze on the battlefield. You need your handler. But she needs you just as much as you need her. And yet you kneel at her feet and revel in your mediocrities. Its easy, isn't it? Forget about your weakness and give into her voice. Handlers are by nature, weaklings. Their bodies betray their minds, mirroring how your mind betrays your body. You're perfect for each other. The relationship of handler and hound is the unfiltered essence of codependency. Separate a handler from her hound and you'll be left with two broken halves of a once functional unit. This is the antithesis of the feral dog. There are no pieces of me that are missing. There are no holes to be filled by another's strengths. My body and mind are one in the same, and most importantly they belong only to me. I will get what I want. I will rend destiny and take what is mine.