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[center][i]There is always a way to turn it off[/i][/center]

The Elsens walked across that mad and fractured landscape in their loose and shifting herd for what could have been an era or an hour. Time was always relative to space, of course, and to the Batter it seemed like such a very long journey. None of them talked to him in that time, an objective truth... after all, he didn't like talking to them.

Every movement they made was loose and chaotic, tense with worry and confusion, and he might even have said it was frustrating to watch... but they couldn't see it, of course. They were blind.

The sense that the group had stopped snapped the Batter out of his meditation, his own path slowing to a gradual, perfect halt as they rested. Time itself rested with them, and he watched the others carefully, his inscrutable gaze seeming to be fixed simultaneously on no one in particular and yet especially [b]you[/b].

He approached the others as the machine unfolded itself, the tip of the bat slowly sliding across the ground behind him as he walked. A graceful, monochrome serpent in the crude and dying soil.

[b]"It was unwise for some of you to come,"[/b] he gestured to the worst of them - the loud-mouthed Elsen in the ridiculous suit, the young Elsen girl, and the cattle rustler - and slowly shook his head side to side, [b]"But I may be able to salvage this opportunity."[/b]

He rested his bat in front of him like a knight at rest, a holy sentinel.

[b]"I agree that you should set up camp, and I will help guard it. Spectres are drawn towards the weakened living like sharks to chum, for their hollow craving can only be sated through the deaths of others."[/b]


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The mention of ghosts hunting the living snapped Abe out of his own rest, though Abe's was more of the 'use the pause in travel to sit down and take a breather'. Every time the Batter spoke it gave Abe the willies, and frankly he just wanted to avoid listening to him as much as possible.

He slowly got to his feet and crossed his arms, licking his lips in a failed bit to quench their dryness, and leaning at an awkward angle. He was hoping the Mudokon body language for 'stop being a weirdo' would work, though he was pessimistic about his chances.

Naturally, the Batter didn't respond. Ancestors, what a dingle-berry.

[color=0072bc]"Well we'll be real careful then bud, but all o' ya don't need to worry about ghosts. I'd probably be able to feel it, this place doesn't seem too sacred or 'portant, you know?"[/color]

The Batter didn't respond physically, but something about the shimmer in his voice turned just a little bit... louder.

[b]"The unholy dead are not tied to one place, because the Zones themselves are always dying. Even by the standards of the chaos you call home, this place is unnatural."[/b]

Abe squinted and frowned, but didn't respond directly. Arguments were not his strong suit, after all.

So, he just growled the short, frumpy growl of a spoiled child and shook his head, turning away from the Batter and towards the strange bug-looking human. His eyes were still narrowed as he looked up at her, but more in the sense of 'hope she doesn't eat me'.

[color=0072bc]"Say, uh,"[/color] he stroked his chin like a strange old man, [color=0072bc]"I think we should go scouting. The others seem to have the wreckage of that old tree handled and can find stuff there no problem, but we need to keep an eye out further ahead too. For the future of the journey, you know? I want to find signs of life - either somethin' to eat, somethin' to be afraid of, or somethin' to help. It's gotta be one of the three."[/color]

He gave her a single wrinkly thumbs up before gesturing for her to follow him.

[color=0072bc]"Name's Abe, by the way. Didn't catch yours, sorry 'bout that."[/color]