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A place where the dead come back...

The false-faced would-be, a lowly Elsen less valuable than an office drone. The other Elsens seemed to respond to him and follow his lead, but the Batter couldn't help but feel... uneasy was the wrong term. The Batter's emotions were not so simplistic, but the comment of coming back from the dead...

Was this 'Handsome Jack' a Spectre? He certainly didn't look like one, and he was intelligent.

The Batter felt deep within himself, but kept his bat held low. No need for violence just yet; he knew from experience that fighting an opponent on their home turf could often end disastrously when you weren't prepared.

The cattle-rustling Elsen seemed surprisingly eager for the mission, stating his intentions of 'democracy'. These Elsen seemed far more involved and competent than the ones he was used to - Elsen relied on their Guardians for everything because they were so incapable of anything except the most meaningless tasks, like that shriveled blue creature which still lingered by the entrance. On the Zones, the idea of Elsens leading themselves was idiotic, but in this chaotic new world...

[b]"I do not mind which direction we go in; I will simply eliminate the obstacles along the road. A holy path is not defined by the ground you walk on."[/b]

And so he followed, not acknowledging the others at all - save for the purple-skinned, bug-limbed Elsen. He kept a cautious distance from her - she reminded him a little too much of the Burnt Elsen from Zone 3, and those were always tricky to purify even when he held greater power and a more powerful bat...

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[color=0072bc][i]Oh boy,[/i][/color] rang his thoughts, [color=0072bc][i]I guess it's back to the desert, then...[/i][/color]

Honestly, Abe wasn't sure he still wanted to be on this mission - safety was something he had been struggling to get used to over the past few weeks, but every time things started to settle down there was some new horrible crisis or evil corporation trying to enslave his people. Handsome Jack in particular made him shudder - he gave off that same sort of petty greed and short-sightedness as the Glukkons back home.

He even wore a suit a little like a Glukkon's, albeit he seemed to have more than two functioning limbs and didn't look like an angry, half-rotten raisin.

The cowboy - Marston? - soon stepped forwards and suggested they all move out, but something in Abe's heartbeat suggested he linger near the back. As the group slowly filtered out, one by one, he cautiously approached the short human dressed in dark clothes.

Out of everyone there, she seemed to least technologically focused or monstrous. While... Kerrigan? The purple bug creature, she reminded him a little too much of a Paramite or a Scrab. Very dangerous, an enemy of the machines and their creators, and important to the natural order, of course, but again... emphasis on the [i]very dangerous[/i].

[color=0072bc]"Howdy,"[/color] his voice popping with a nasally, slightly dopey sort of accent, [color=0072bc]"Name's Abe. You seen any other guys like me? They'd probably be green, though. Probably fart real bad."[/color]

He raised his hand very slowly, his voice suddenly lowering as he whispered.

[color=0072bc]"You know if anyone's got somethin' to eat? They don't sell nothin' good here."[/color]