Date: 2009-08-09 05:21 pm (UTC)
Harold had fled after his disaster with Ensign Spottacus, jogging in a random direction. Thank god she hadn't followed. He felt geniunely sorry about it, he did, but he just couldn't stomache it.

No idea where he was and not even sure the PADD in his back pocket would work off-ship if he did need help, he'd taken to wandering the tourist shops.

Turns out, asshole shopkeepers didn't like it very much if you manhandled their stuff but had no money.

Lost, angry and still actually wearing the rumpled clothes he'd slept in, he headed toward the waterfront.

He thought he might be going crazy when he caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd. He latched onto the thought, desperate for something familiar.

"--Scotty?"
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allmhadadh

August 2020

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