001 quarter in the arcade

[arcade-god.livejournal.com]

[Flynn had never appreciated just how slowly time crawled through cyberspace until he’d been stuck there – like an artist prisoner in his own painting – for what amounted to decades. It’s a hell of a long time to go without seeing the sun, tasting air that actually tastes like air, or without the barrage of everyday sounds he used to take for granted.

When he wakes slumped over the front of a freaking arcade cabinet, of all things, his face smooshed up against the glass screen and the familiar beeping and blooping of a dozen other games sounding around him, he’s positive he’s dreaming.]

Oh, man. As if my life couldn’t get any weirder.

[His voice is still weighed down by the disorientation of a long sleep. When he straightens up, he finds his hands wandering over a book open beside the joystick poking out of the game’s control console, and he stares at it blankly for a minute while the flashing characters on the screen bounce a diffuse, multicolored light off its white pages.]

[OOC: He’s in the Game Room! In person or via journal is fine. Be warned that I might be slow-ish to respond.]