Pretty Vacant

With a roll of her eyes, Tyler dismissed Zach’s words. She shot him a short, disbelieving look, but chose to keep her lips pressed together firmly— at least for a moment. If it weren’t for Zach’s constant ramblings, Ty knew that her mind would have begun to wander; and that wasn’t exactly welcome, especially now that they had officially left the safety of the Outpost. It was then, once again ironically, that Zach mentioned himself shutting up. With a quiet chuckle, Ty turned her attention back to him. When she saw the way his facial expression had changed, and how his body had stiffened, the girl wasn’t sure how to react. Sure, she had never seen Zach when he was outside the walls— and though it was nearly impossible to imagine moments ago, she wasn’t questioning his newly serious persona. It was only natural for him to become this way once outside the gates; and she could nearly feel the worry rolling off of him like waves. Though Tyler was normally the serious one, she now had a smile plastered onto her lips, and it wouldn’t seem to disappear. Without the constant eyes on her back and the walls towering around her, Ty felt free— not even the ominous groans and moans of walkers in the nearby forests could shake her bliss. It did, however, have the girls free hand resting atop the pistol strapped to her hip.

Zach never found silence uncomfortable, not even in instances where his company at the time might have found it unnerving. He never felt awkward silences around strangers, and uncomfortable pauses when at a loss of words… He was simply immune to that. And maybe, even now with such indifference towards the silence, that was what gave him the bizarre power to remain entirely quiet. Behind the silent exterior, Zach's mind was active and dangerous -- Thoughts mixing and colliding, confusing him with several visions of how the night would pan out once they would return to the outpost. Return home… How might things change after they finally knew for sure? No matter the result, their lives wouldn't be capable of being the same anymore. It concerned Zach.

You know what they say, ”too many cooks spoil the broth” but does anyone need help with anything? I can’t help but feel a little useless while everyone seems so busy. 

Too many whats do the what? I speak in layman's terms, thank you very much. But, if we're talking about people being busy, they're really not. They just try to act like it. I guess now would be the time to do something, but there's really nothing to do but worry… or start writing a will.

With the irony in mind, Tyler let out a laugh. She turned her attention to Zach and couldn’t help but allow the smirk to become known across her expression— it seemed that their outing had just begun, yet it didn’t feel any different from two minutes ago, or twenty minutes, or two days. Maybe it was because they were still safe inside the gates of the Outpost, or maybe it was just because this was Zach and Tyler; nothing they did seemed to be as well thought out as it should be. But that was okay. “We are so backwards,” Tyler chuckled, though she was still grinning. "You’re the one who needs to do his hair. And I’m just sort of here, like… this.” Tyler gestured down at herself. From the dirt specked military boots, to the ripped jeans, and then to the mess of dark curls upon her head, Ty was the picture of the apocalypse. And there she was, not giving a second thought about how she looked as she was about to go on a date with Zach— but could it really be a date? At the time, Tyler had just said that to convince Zach to give up on his protests. But now she was grinning at the thought, and the seemingly nervous energy Zach was now permitting.

"That's because you're already pretty and gorgeous and everything else without having to do anything," Zach replied without missing a beat, "Anymore and I probably wouldn't be here right now 'cos I would've, like, dropped dead the first time we talked…" All this rambling and lighthearted chatter made their task seem that much simpler, which may or may not be a good thing… Reconsidering this, Zach quickly added in, "Should I shut up now?" It was more of a rhetorical question than anything, as he made a point to silence himself from there on out. The rather serious and business-like mannerism that Zach suddenly took on then seemed odd for the hyperactive scavenger, but it was a mindset he put himself in nonetheless. They had to go, find what they needed, and swiftly return without any conflict or injury -- Safety - particularly Tyler's safety as well as the safety of that 'possibility' - wasn't something he was about to jeopardize with anything.

I— I’m not exactly sure if it’s more rude to agree or disagree.

I guess it's only fair to do whatever's more rude. I mean-- I did hit you with a rock that one time.

Delicious was Nutella, may it rest in peace. When was the last time you even smoked weed?

Um… Never, to be exact. And as far as Nutella goes, we should have a moment of silence. I feel like it's watching over us right now… Nutella guardian angel.

You want me to stop being stressed? Zach, that’s like asking you to stop rambling. It just isn’t going to happen.

"Man-- I didn't get a chance to do my hair, or even try to find you flowers. I'm doing this first date thing all wrong," Zach lightheartedly complained, mainly for the purpose of keeping himself from worrying too much about several facts... 1) Tyler was clearly coming along on this run even though the last thing Zach ever wanted to see was her manage to get hurt, 2) It would be best to accomplish said run without anyone 'important' taking notice, and 3) There was a whole hell of a lot in store for them when they returned. Zach elected to ignore that major, third fact for as long as he possibly could, for his mixed feelings were confusing -- to say the least. One moment, his hopes were up, and the next, he was worrying himself sick… There was just too much to comprehend, and still so much that was yet to be confirmed.

Five jars of peanut butter is a little obsessive, even in an apocalypse. I’m confident enough that I’ll take your peanut butter to put this joint I’ve been saving on the line.

It's not obsessive -- It's delicious. Peanut butter and a joint… Yeah, this beats Vegas any day.

I could go for a good joke…

It's me...

I don’t know how you survived growing up in that dustbowl, but I knew Vegas like the back of my hand. Let’s do this shit, small fry.

I don't know if you could even calling it surviving. To be honest, I just kinda barely made it… Hey-- I'm not that small… Whatever. C'mon. I have like, five jars of peanut butter to bet on this 'cos I'm just that confident.