//YOU MEAN WE COULD'VE MET LUCY??????????????

*sleeping on a bench after a long, exhausting gig*

"A...ah....achoo....!" Seems he caught some sort of bug on his last gig. "Euuuuuugh...."

🦾ha

"Damn....need to get my sword repaired...."

"I've had it with me since I was back in New York. It's gotten me out of a lot of close calls, and I'm not just gonna throw it away."

Leaning against a data terminal with a hand over a bleeding wound....damn Tyger Claws got a lucky shot on him.

(Trying so hard not to burst into laughter) "I uh...I think you might want to dial it back....!"

Nope, he can't hold it together any more. "Pffft....Pam, I think you're trying a little too hard!"

Harlan chuckles, gently pinching Pam's cheek. "I know, it's really cute."

//LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Anything he can do to help her?

He can do that....he'll start with just gently running his fingers through her locks.

As they relax on Harlan's couch, he grabs a blanket and pulls it around them. His chin rests on her shoulder as he continues running his fingers through her hair.

Sending a text to @SyntheticDoctor >Need help >Gig went bad >Not dying or anything but mask broke >having panic attack

///AAAAAA WHAT HAPPENED TO @SYNTHETICDOCTOR

//2077 brainworms are back