SoutaEake
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The day was beautiful. It was spring, the grass was finally turning green, people were happy anticipating summer. Luke Carder looked at the new card in his collection. The first of its kind, if you could say so, and outside his window lay a dead bird. Despite everything, the scribe felt... mostly okay. And he hated himself for it. He felt like a monster.
tick tock
...He'll probably skip dinner tonight.
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The air...hurts, here. It's not something he's familiar with. It doesn't just hurt, it's unfulfilling, leaving him lightheaded and panting, even as the vapour makes him cough, irritating his lungs.
Bookmarked by SoutaEake
18 Aug 2026
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“You know what I've been up to.” The Batter replied after a momentary pause, his flippant attitude juxtaposing the weight laced within his words. It was difficult to not be tuned in to what The Batter had been wholly dedicating himself to ever since the moment he'd appeared into their world, but Zacharie tried his best to not pay it any mind– it didn't take a genius to understand the implications of The Batter's divine mission, but he'd rather not dwell on the inevitable devastation awaiting them all.
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the batter comes to visit zacharie before his last stop and they talk (kinda) while sucre haunts the narrative
Bookmarked by SoutaEake
18 Aug 2026
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If it were up to him, The Batter would choose to stay clearly focused on the mission assigned at all time, always be the utmost efficient with time, and never meander down roads and conversations so pointless. He would certainly never frolic through silly carnival games like a child out of school. However, how his time was spent was not up to him.
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i wrote this on the day of the steam re-release to celebrate! and also because i was stuck on the balloon game for an embarrassing amount of time, and thought this would be a funny scenario to write about
Bookmarked by SoutaEake
18 Aug 2026
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When the Batter wakes up in a zone of nothing, he finds that he is not alone — something heavy sits in his chest, warm and vibrant and cold all at once. He finds nothing concerning about this.
Bookmarked by SoutaEake
18 Aug 2026
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The Batter has always found the tram a peculiar way of travel: filled with strange Elsen, filled with strange thoughts. Unfit for him, unfit for His Player, for they have a duty to fulfil: crusade until collapse.
Strange as it is, slow as it is, he takes his quiet chances to glimpse The Puppeteer, and in his restlessness, is gifted a reprieve, and he decides purification may wait a little bit longer. Just long enough to wonder what Players dream of.
Bookmarked by SoutaEake
18 Aug 2026