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weasyl.com · 2475039:9444189

An inflation piece I wanted to write for https://bsky.app/profile/asterscape.bsky.social set in his Dineball setting!

Please download the file to read the full story!

Stretching for Practice

By holodrom

Hunter "The Pit" Holmes was having a rough season playing for the Chicago Dreamboats. The maned wolf's batting average was low, and his strikeouts were up. The only thing he had going for him was his outfield game–which had earned him his nickname–and even that was lagging this season. He had only famously popped his uniform buttons and beached himself out of a game twice so far. This many games in, he'd usually have managed it four or five times.

Hunter let out a deflating sigh as he recalled his performance so far and tried to let all of the negativity go with his breath. He was being escorted by a GlaceTech secretary to a private dining event hosted by one of the Dreamboat's biggest sponsors: Angelus Glace. Hunter had never met the man, but the Dreamboat's stadium was named after Angelus's company, so he could feel the weight of the impending meeting trying to push him into the hardwood flooring even as he tried to perk himself up and put on a brave face.

Hunter had never been quite good enough to play for he major leagues. He knew this, but he still wanted to pursue his passion for the game which led him to star in a slightly smaller and more niche league: Dineball.

Dineball was a baseball league that sat somewhere between the minor and major leagues. It attracted two types of players: people like Hunter who barely missed the cut for the major leagues, and people who got their kicks from eating people or being eaten themselves. After all, Dineball got its name from the unique rules governing players eating one another on the field. A runner that gets tagged out is eaten by the one who tagged them. Three outs, and the batter was eaten by whoever fielded their out. Rules like that were the core of what made Dineball a popular spectacle.

The frustrations and grudges that arose from players getting eaten also heightened the drama compared to the MLB, especially since anyone who was digested was back within a day and perfectly capable of spiting the player that gulped them whole. Hunter had been eaten a few times, but befitting his nickname, he was more likely to be sloshing across the outfield, catching fly balls while lugging a uniform-busting trio (or more!) of opposing players in the pit of his stomach.

He hoped that his meeting today with Angelus would help turn his performance around. Unfortunately, our down-on-his-luck Dineball player was about to hit rock bottom.

The door to the dining room opened, and Hunter let out a soft and puzzled "Ah...?" It was a small private dining room with seating for four at the most, a much smaller venue than he imagined when he received the invitation listing a "dining event." The entire back wall was a window that looked out over the city, and the light of the sunset poured in, creating a rim light effect around the only other person in the chilly dining room.

Angelus looked up from a steaming coffee he was stirring, locking his icy eyes on Hunter. The arctic fox's expression was inscrutable for a moment before his expression melted into a soft smile.

"Well if it isn't Hunter 'The Pit' Holmes. I'm glad you were able to make it." Angelus gestured for wolf to take a seat as the secretary pulled out a chair across from the fox. Hunter took his seat and pushed his butt against the back of the chair to keep his long legs from bumping against Angelus under the table. "Care for a drink before the first course is brought in?"

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