crookedsaint
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Every night, Edric Tosser drowns.
It doesn’t feel the same as the few times Declan’s been too pushy or Wes has been too late. They don’t tell you this about playing blaseball, but after spending years and years on the field and almost as many shadowed, you start to feel numb to closing throats and prickling skin and pressure changes and everything else you’re told to play through in order to win. No one treats skinned knees when a slit throat is a possibility, right?
So he’s gotten used to the conventional sort of drowning. But as the Jazz Hands sink deeper into the Immateria, he finds a new way to choke. -
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Edric flips his collar up and leans back on the brick wall, tucking himself into an alcove and praying the wind doesn’t shift. He closes his eyes. Tucks his hand into a jacket pocket he knows doesn’t have a cigarette pack in it anymore. Closes his fist in it anyway, keeping the hand warm against his core.
Listens to the radio noise.
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you put up the cards just to watch em fall by crookedsaint
Fandoms: Blaseball (Video Game)
10 Jul 2021
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The first tiny slice of an unfinished account of Combs Estes' no good very bad season.
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A snapshot in the life of two volunteer reserve blaseball players.
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Smoke fills Declan Suzanne's head as, somewhere in Maryland-by-way-of-Illinois, he drives to a graveyard.
Smoke fills Tillman Henderson's lungs as he rises from the dead.
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“Did you fix the grappling hook on Elephant Gambit?” Derrick asks, sharply.
Shaq blinks. “Yeah, I -”
“Good,” Derrick says. He shifts his grip from Shaq’s collar to their arm, steering them out of Bourbon Lancer’s shadow. “We’re stealing it.”
(or: two mechanics walk into a jaeger.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,805
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 5
- Kudos:
- 16
- Bookmarks:
- 2
- Hits:
- 102
Bookmarked by crookedsaint
10 Jul 2021
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Grit Watson isn't from Chicago, but she's not from Deerfield, either.
(twelve one hundred-ish word scenes about an alternated shadow)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,348
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 4
- Kudos:
- 18
- Bookmarks:
- 3
- Hits:
- 67
Bookmarked by crookedsaint
26 May 2021
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“An update from the dugout,” the announcer says, and Val’s whole body goes ice-water cold. “Nerd Pacheco—”
There’s more, Val’s sure, but he’s already running. (Or: a study of a super-allergy.)
Series
- Part 3 of history, again
Bookmarked by crookedsaint
17 May 2021
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speak my name (and i'll rise into the sky) by Novelsinourheads
Fandoms: Blaseball (Video Game)
01 Feb 2021
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“It is, you suppose, your weight to carry, the gravity of what happens when the balance of the Fire shifts, and somewhere in the back of your mind you know it’s only going to continue to grow till you’re carrying the weight of the entire city on your shoulders”
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Tyreek Olive lives and dies and maybe tries to learn along the way.(an (almost) 14k exploration of the firefighter's first (and for a long time, only) incinerated player)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 13,877
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 2
- Comments:
- 10
- Kudos:
- 28
- Bookmarks:
- 4
- Hits:
- 292
Bookmarked by crookedsaint
01 Feb 2021
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it was always worth it (that's the part i seem to hide) by paopuleaf
Fandoms: Blaseball (Video Game)
30 Oct 2020
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“you going back to your tinyass apartment?”
“we’re going back to my tinyass apartment, bro, get with the plan.” declan snickers as tillman shoves him, keys jingling as he spins them on his finger. “you can steal my shower when we get there.”
“what, my ash-covered body not good enough for you? fucker? judging me? i’m as handsome as ever.”
“you smell like a corpse.”
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[ a companion fic to "dashboard's melted (but we still have the radio)" ]
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Bookmarked by crookedsaint
30 Oct 2020