Turn at the Wheel: Cyber/Steampunk

It was her turn at the wheel, and so she snapped the synapse leads into her temples, slipped her hands into the gauntlets that would keep the gears from crushing her tender bones as they rotated around (but wouldn't keep her fresh from bruising), and put on her game face, a silvery blank surface that would shine from among the black greased gears like the Madonna hanging down from the sky. Wouldn't do to have the normals see the contortions of her face as she fought down the screams. It wasn't as if she was even suffering, not precisely, it was just a matter of extreme discomfort and widening and that the human brain wasn't designed to expand that wide--though it could. And it must.

Inspiration: Was thinking about "Girl in the Gears," the steampunk, Vicesteed-world, nano-fic that I'm going to tweet this month for Nano WriMo (*not* NaNoWriMo)
Story Potential: Medium
Notes: Some nice imagery, but nothing special here. Can tell my mind was elsewhere!