those signs won't stop me because I can't stop

Elsewhere is actually pretty boring, Harper realizes. It's been days - not many, but enough that she's lost count - of wandering through the humid nothingness, and she doesn't feel like she's any closer to getting back. At least she isn't alone out here, though. Someone else, on the opposing team, had been swept away a few innings before her, and as she wanders they've occasionally gotten near enough for her to see them through the haze. Her head spins, and after stumbling and almost falling H-rper realizes she's starting to get scattered. She looks around, trying to pull herself together. As long as she walks against the current, she's going in the right direction. Hopefully. She notices a shape through the fog. It's that other player, the one she's been seeing nearby every now and then. She decides to head toward them, noticing that they seem less scattered than she is. You want to walk together?, she asks, her voice falling flat against the dense fog. The other player - what was their name? - nods, holding out a hand to her. H--pe- takes their hand, and feels a bit of strength returning. Suddenly, the immateria swirling knee-deep around her legs doesn't seem to be pushing her backwards quite as hard. They continue walking together, H--pe- occasionally starting some conversation just to hear some sound other than the waves crashing. (The two of them end up both signing rather than speaking, as she doesn't like the way her voice sounds in the fog, and they apparently just don't talk even normally.) She normally wouldn't talk to someone from her rival team, but there aren't any better options in this part of Elsewhere. Their name is Apr-l Rem--gton, she learns, and they used to be a pitcher until the week before, when a particularly bad reverb day had shuffled them into their team's lineup. Their team's been hoping to land a will that'll put them back in the rotation, as they like to go hiking on the days they aren't playing, and they haven't been enjoying having to come to every game. Not only that, but they're just not the greatest batter. Getting swept Elsewhere was almost a nice break for them, though they won't miss it when they're back with their team. Eventually, the immateria goes from knee deep to mid-calf, and then to ankle-deep, and soon H--pe- and Apr-l are stumbling into the middle of a game. It's been quite a few days, and their respective teams are playing each other once again. This time, though, there's no flooding, only a trickle of feedback making its way around the stadium. H--per's barely had time to pull herself together, still waiting for her first turn at bat since returning, when the feedback starts getting louder, echoing around the stadium and in her ears, and she notices that she and Apr-l are both beginning to flicker. The feedback flares, wrapping around her in piercing waves, and when the flickering stops she's standing in Apr-l's place in the outfield, and they're looking around from where she'd been sitting. One of her new teammates - that's a strange thought, that she's on the same team now after seasons of somewhat less than pleasant rivalry - waves at her, a welcoming smile on their face, but their grin falls and turns to worry as the feedback starts to swell in dizzying tones again and H--per presses her hands over her ears. She doesn't feel any flickering this time, but she still presses her eyes shut. When the feedback fades to minimal again and H--per opens her eyes, she's still wearing the same unfamiliar uniform, still in the same place, still looking at the pitcher's mound, but now April's standing there, the ball that's now in their hand already starting to take on an iridescent blue sheen as they prepare to throw a pitch.