#pilot handler

Pilot

A 32-year-old female who's been piloting her mech since she was 18. Somehow is still sane despite piloting a full sync mech which at this point should make her a hermit who stays in her cockpit instead she's always outside her mech doing whatever. Pilots an M-32 serpent hunter one. She's actively a entity of research to figure out how she's seemingly immune to mechabody syndrome. Has gone through 4 handlers due to how chaotic she is.

Handler

I want people to read my comic, but I hate asking people to read my comic.

So I have made a powerpoint with the help of the beautiful and talented @skeletalcat (who tbh did more than 50%)

Check it out at https://armored-hearts.com/

Rip, tear. Those were your orders. Destroy as many enemy mechs as you could before you died. That was your objective. The only issue was, your mech had been disabled by something, or heavily damaged, it wouldn’t move and you were now helpless to watch the sky, waiting for your end. You can’t even fully remember how you got here. You remember anger, fear, and finally, resignation to your fate. You could hope that the enemy would give you a quick death, but knowing what you were told, that was unlikely. You’d probably be tortured for information first. You sighed, waiting for the end.

The gunfire slowly began to surround you, and you saw a woman holding a rifle, firing at something in the distance while giving orders. You got to watch as she eventually looked down at your mech, trying to get it to open. When she couldn’t, she called for another, a mech, and it began to slowly rip open your cockpit, allowing the woman to step inside. She looked at you in horror, as if something was wrong. She called for more mechs, something about taking you back to base with her. When the mechs arrived you could feel them dragging your metal shell with them. 

The woman stayed in the cockpit, speaking sweet nothings into your ear about how you were safe now, and that everything would be fine once she took you back. You closed your eyes, letting her words take hold. Her hands were gentle as she held your face, as she kept trying to soothe you. You figured she wasn’t half bad for an enemy, but you had no clue what reality might bring. She might decide to make you suffer after all this kindness, you had to prepare, you had to be strong. You decided to accept her comfort. Even if it might be fake, it felt nice to be comforted by a gentle hand before your last moments. And so, you drifted off.

You awoke to the woman and two others looking over you, likely in a hanger. The three seemed to be talking about how to get you out of your mech. You sighed, as if being removed from a mech was ever hard. Though… You never had to be the one removing a person. There was a bit of back and forth before the woman began to move around you, and then… Searing unbearable pain, it felt like your nerves were on fire, like you were dying. You could hear the woman screaming demands as she began to pull you free from your mech. There was a stretcher brought in, and you were placed on it before being rushed elsewhere

Sterile, that was how you’d describe the room. You were heavily bandaged, hooked up to an IV unit, and a blood bag. All you can remember is that the woman wanted you alive, and then a cold stab in your neck. You sighed, something must have gone wrong when you got incapacitated in your mech. Now you were in an enemy base, taking up their medical supplies, that woman trying to keep you alive, probably only long enough to gather information. You slowly sat up, looking around the room carefully, there was a door, and a wide mirror. No, not a mirror. It was likely a 1 way mirror, meant to watch you.

You slumped back and looked at the ceiling, hearing someone enter, walking over to you, and entering your sight. It was the woman again, smiling this time and embracing you in a hug. Who was she, and why was she kind? You were so confused. Had the rebellion been a farce? She told you that you had slept for 5 days. She spoke with such worry. Couldn’t she have grabbed a different pilot if she needed information? She placed a gentle hand on your cheek, and a part of you couldn’t help but lean into her touch. She felt warm, safe, and comforting. She felt like a pillar you could lean on if you needed support.

Some medical staff came in to unhook you, they were quite careful with you too, as if you were something delicate. Once unhooked, you were placed in a wheelchair, the woman wheeling you out and somewhere else. You watched people pass by, some actually ask the woman if she’ll be alright handling you. You’ve no clue what they mean, but you assume you’ll know eventually. She takes you into a room and you begin to see what they meant by handling you. She carefully lifted you into a mechanical alcove in the wall, hooking you up to different things. Once she finished she sat at the nearby desk, and you suspected something was going on.

You watched her type away at her computer, but at the same time, you felt… Like you knew what she was doing. You felt like she was inputting commands and looking for something. Every now and then, you spotted her glancing over at you, giving you a smile. Maybe she wasn’t the enemy, maybe she was a friend, an ally. You had some hope finally. You could tell she didn’t just want you alive, but she quite possibly cared about you. You slowly close your eyes, but they immediately shoot open when you hear her sigh. Was something wrong? What was she even looking at?

You watched as she got up, unhooking you from everything before she pulled you over to her computer and sat you down. What you saw was horrifying. It was your file, your purpose was death when she found you. Hell, being removed from your mech was supposed to be lethal. You were merely a pawn in the rebellion’s plan and it angered you. This woman saved you, and you had doubted her. However, there was a second file, mirroring yours. It seemed to be for their records, but there were little additions added to it.

You had some medical notes you didn’t know about, talking about how you were found, what work they did to save you. They even made observations while you were unconscious. However, when you saw your occupation as pilot, you also noticed something else. “Handler: None”. Handler? That was something new. Was a pilot supposed to have a Handler? You looked to her for clarification and she informed you that a Handler is often used for problem pilots, or pilots who need guidance or something to ground them.

You looked back at your file, smiling, before changing your file. “Handler: Yes”. The woman looked baffled, if not outright confused. You took her hand, pressing her palm against your cheek gently as you smiled. Handler, laughed slightly, but she gave you a gentle smile. You were safe now, the real enemy was the rebellion. Handler helped you realize the truth of your near death experience, she made certain you didn’t die. Handler saved you. You knew now, you owed your everything to Handler. You belonged to Handler now, and you would let her guide you against her enemies, even if it meant dying for her.

Handler wanted to show you something, and so, you followed her to the hangers. There, you saw your old mech, it seemed to have been mildly modified since you last remembered it. Handler slowly guided you towards it, but when you showed some resistance, she asked you to trust her. And so you did. You let her slowly hook you in, whispering sweet nothings once more to keep you calm. Once hooked in, Handler only made one singular request: for you to bark. It was simple, and so you obeyed. You barked and felt euphoric. You looked at Handler for input, and she told you to bark again.

Kaxen and I are gonna have #TemirTuesday from now on :)