He really doesn't get it. And maybe it's because he was from the future, and people apparently just go to town with the cybernetics then. Maybe it's because he'd already had it in mind, so it wasn't so totally alien to him. But for whatever reason, the horror Jack must have gone through when it was him changing wasn't the same as Harley's. He hadn't scrambled backwards across a bathroom floor in some panicked attempt to get away from the thing attached to him. He hadn't touched the seam where metal had welded onto flesh and thrown up everything in his stomach when he'd realized what it meant. He hadn't had to physically fight the urge to chop the damn thing off, because every time he looked at it his stomach turned over at the thought of being unconscious and strapped to a table somewhere while someone cut off what had been there before.
And Harley is better, now. She can look down and not flinch at the sight of periwinkle metal. She can walk and move and kick, and there isn't something in the back of her mind going this is wrong, this is wrong. She can't escape- yet- and she can't stop what she knows is coming. So... maybe Jack has a point.
"It's cute you think I'dve lived long enough to hit that wall. I hadn't figured on it." But there's a smile tugging at her mouth, and Harley arches up again to brush a kiss against his cheek. "And you're right; you're a model for all monster-kind, Handsome." Pressing close, she reaches around him for the car's door handle, and nudges it open. "And you know what? I absolutely do."
Her shorts are somehow even shorter when she's standing up; and the bustier doesn't quite cover the Lucky You tattoo. Harley'd kept a couple of suits, but fashion in Djavulenstad is way more fun than Bavan.
"There's a place around the corner I been in a time or two; think it's called Dealin' Dan's Dive? Your standard rough house; sweat and stubble and stale beer. Probably a poker game or a fight club in the basement, but I never bothered to find out." Harley links her arm in his, and reaches up, adjusting his lapel a centimeter. "Pure human, last time I checked; haven't been back since I turned half Lite-Brite. People go out back to smoke. Plenty of assholes."
cw; body horror
And Harley is better, now. She can look down and not flinch at the sight of periwinkle metal. She can walk and move and kick, and there isn't something in the back of her mind going this is wrong, this is wrong. She can't escape- yet- and she can't stop what she knows is coming. So... maybe Jack has a point.
"It's cute you think I'dve lived long enough to hit that wall. I hadn't figured on it." But there's a smile tugging at her mouth, and Harley arches up again to brush a kiss against his cheek. "And you're right; you're a model for all monster-kind, Handsome." Pressing close, she reaches around him for the car's door handle, and nudges it open. "And you know what? I absolutely do."
Her shorts are somehow even shorter when she's standing up; and the bustier doesn't quite cover the Lucky You tattoo. Harley'd kept a couple of suits, but fashion in Djavulenstad is way more fun than Bavan.
"There's a place around the corner I been in a time or two; think it's called Dealin' Dan's Dive? Your standard rough house; sweat and stubble and stale beer. Probably a poker game or a fight club in the basement, but I never bothered to find out." Harley links her arm in his, and reaches up, adjusting his lapel a centimeter. "Pure human, last time I checked; haven't been back since I turned half Lite-Brite. People go out back to smoke. Plenty of assholes."