You both sit in awkward silence as Zeb fiddles with the ambiguous levers and switches, causing the machine to roll forward abruptly.
Colonel says:
You need to calm this guy down before he passes out at the wheel. Ask him about himself, his job, that sort of thing. Get to know him and put him at ease.
RoyTheWolf says:
Break the ice between you two, he seems a little nervous, maybe give a minute or 2 to see if he says something.
Gareth says:
Bro looks like he’s a veeeery shy guy, breaking the ice is surely the best thing you can do unless you want the trip to be one hell of an awkward one.
Small talk, sure. Your time working at the tavern was filled with awkward interactions. Nothing you can’t do. You just wish you had a drink on hand to help him relax enough to drive better.
“Sooooo… tell me about your day, Zeb.”
“It uhh – it just started.”
…
You continue, “Are you from here?”
“I live here now.”
“Ah, so where are you from?”
“Tatohv…”
“I’ve never heard of it. Is it here in Siltria?”
“N-No.”
“So where is it?”
“H-hwombazu.”
“That sounds like a cool place.”
“Okay.”
…
Way to hold a conversation, dude.
lightningfox89 says:
Tell him his vehicle is AMAZING and you’ve never seen anything like it; only a mechanical genius would be capable of making something like this.
You rave enthusiastically about his machine as a last-ditch attempt to salvage this interaction.
He takes the bait, “W-well… a single crank engine takes an entire dedicated workshop of artisans and engineers to build. One person couldn’t make all this.”
“Ah, I see. You just seem like you really know your way around one.”
His face lights up, “They are really incredible machines. I’ve read all about them at home. The gear trains on these alone are very ingenious! I managed to scrape enough coin to work towards restoring this one, since it’s an older model– A Blokker Workshops Model C. The newer models have this awesome thing called suspension! And they can even come fully enclosed.”
He catches himself in his excitement. “Oh… sorry. Got carried away. It’s just no one has really shown interest in my hobbies.”
You chuckle, “Well I think it’s impressive. “
It seems you found his interest alright.
The shadow of 12 lemons says:
Zeb seems very jumpy, maybe ask him if he finds you scary?
With Zeb loosened up from his wagon talk, you change the subject. “So, Zeb. Is there… something about me that makes you nervous?”
“S-s-sorry. I know it’s bad and I shouldn’t be saying this.”
You speak softer. “Saying… what?”
“I-I guess I’m still trying to get used to being around… you know… F-from the west– I’ve never seen many before arriving in Siltria, and it’s just you’re- uh…”
“Gnomanyan? Yeah, we’re pretty awful.”
“No. Its– It’s just I’ve never been this close to a…” He makes a glance towards your teeth.
“…Someone who eats meat?”
“Yes… – It’s j-just the serrated teeth and piercing eyes that are a little unsettling – no offense.”
“Little taken.”
He continues, “Back home… We’re always told stories that hunters from the west eat… us. Because we’re made of this pure meat, better than any simple creature. My Grandmas always told me what happens to those of us who are caught alone – why we needed to keep them away.”
“What, did they tell you that if you stayed up too late they would fly in through the window and eat you?” You can’t help but find this hysteria a little amusing – racist, but amusing.
“Yes! That’s literally what they would tell me! If I didn’t wash my feet, they will eat my feet. If I didn’t finish my supper, I would become theirs.”
You can’t believe what you are hearing.
“Rest assured, Zeb, I’m not going to eat you…”
But if you were a bit smaller… ehh maybe.”
You cackle and nudge him. “I’m joking, don’t roll the crank engine!” You can’t help yourself; this is too good.
Zeb can’t help but crack a meek smile. “You Gnomanyans are kind of awful.”
“We’re aware.”
“But let me tell you this, Zeb: At least where I’m from, in all its savage glory, I’ve never heard of anyone eating a thinking person. Ever. You have nothing to worry about, okay?”
His smile dwindles, as you two barely notice an encroaching roadblock. A short, armored creature beckons the crank engine to halt.
The armored one climbs aboard to speak. “S’cuse me, ladies. This road’s bein’ repaired; you’ll have to make a detour.”
Zeb’s nerves start to kick up again, “W-wait, what do you mean? I was just here!”
The short man responds, “Us Qoth work fast. These are imperial roads, and we maintain our roads. You’ll appreciate our work later. Now if you’d please stop fussin’ and let Her Army’s 13th Engineer Brigade do its job.”
More Qoths? Shit. No one told you they were also short and green.
Zeb squeaks, “B-but I know this road! I need to get to Cohv. Maybe I can go around the work?— It will be quick, I promise!” You almost feel Zeb’s heart beating from here.
The soldier grumbles, “Absolutely not. Take the backroads to the right, and it should lead you to Cohv all the same. Just keep the gear low, and you’ll be fine.”
With Zeb looking close to a panic, you may need to step in. You just hope they won’t recognize you.
Zeb should have a pin saying “ask me about my vehicle” like the pirate from Monkey Island “Ask me about Loom”
Heh…ladies….love the that you’re leaning into the twink thing