[ Arcade would gladly go on debating the potential benefits of being stuck here (there is some nuance to it, whether he likes it or not), but that gust of wind catches him, too. It nearly tugs his coat off one arm, this time, practically whipping it up and over his head - which leaves him struggling to hold on as he reels across the grass. He ends up sprawled in the dirt, his glasses tossed into the weeds before he can catch them. ]
Oh— Dammit.
[ Stumbling back to his feet, he tugs his coat roughly back into place and starts to anxiously sift through the tall grass. That's his only pair, and he's definitely not going to relish being stuck here without them. ]
no subject
Oh— Dammit.
[ Stumbling back to his feet, he tugs his coat roughly back into place and starts to anxiously sift through the tall grass. That's his only pair, and he's definitely not going to relish being stuck here without them. ]