Tighten the hempen halter

LOCKE

He's only a little drunk. Just a touch. Most people probably wouldn't even notice. Or that's the hope. Because he's officially looking for a job today. Tucked under one arm is a basket containing a soup he made along with biscuits and other dried tasty things. A sampling of his abilities. And he keeps making too much food. How easily he slips into cooking for a crowd.

The Ark is still docked and he's come looking for Jack. As much as being on a ship is the last thing he wants, well being in Torchline is even lower than that. He can't run away to Stormbreak either. The skyboats are too easy to board. He approaches one of the deckhands that's milling around the ship, "Jack around? Heard you were looking for more hands." And he's got two of those, scarred as they might be.

And I don't have the right
To ask where you go at night

JACK

"Jack's around, an' you heard right." The captain's voice rings down the docks where Jack is strolling back towards his ship, busy lighting a cigarette with a match while the sun beams down. He lifts sharp blue eyes to Locke's face, taking note of a lot more than is polite given the nature of his magic. A little drunk is fine. Scarred hands is better. Food is the cherry on the top; Jack doesn't really give a fuck, but his crew are fuelled on good food.

"What you offerin'?" he asks, nodding down at the basket and breezing past Locke to head up the gangplank to where the rest of the crew are hard at work making the final preparations for a Leafchange voyage. "Other'n your name." He gestures for the other man to fill in the blank with said name.

you are a quiet god
and your hunger is cavernous

LOCKE

He turns, one eyebrow raised as he watches the other man approach. So collected. His jaw tenses for a moment before he makes himself relax. "Know how to cook and I got two hands. I know some rope work and I don't get seasick." Admittedly most of the rope work he knows is for other things but a knot is a knot, right?

He holds the basket out to Jack, "Name's Locke and these are a, uh, sample of my abilities. I know fresh food is hard to come by out at sea so it's mostly dried goods." It's not much but it's fine. He just wants out of Torchline.

And I don't have the right
To ask where you go at night

JACK

"Fantastic. Providin' you don't give anyone food poisonin', you're hired." Just like that, yep. Smiling over his shoulder and taking the basket, Jack peeks within it and takes out a little bit of jerky for himself, replacing the cigarette with the meat and calling out to the crew as they step onto the deck of the Ark. Someone comes to take the basket and there's no guarantee that Locke will get the empty one back, if he even wanted it.

"Locke," Jack repeats, as if tasting the name on his tongue. "Ever sailed before?" he asks, before looking the other man up and down. "An' what's your baggage? Before you play coy - I know there's always baggage. Got debts? Runnin' from a bad deal? Or just spend all your money on booze?"

you are a quiet god
and your hunger is cavernous

LOCKE

"You think I'd subject myself to that?" Who cares about the other sailors. Being trapped on a ship with people who have the shits is pretty low on his list of wants. But hey, at least he seems to have a job now. Easy enough. He gives the basket up easily enough, he doesn't need it back anyway. There's always bartering if he needs a new one. Or stealing. That's a viable option too.

"A little, when I was younger. My dad was a sailor." By sailor he means pirate but it's fine. He hasn't really been sailing in years but it can't be that hard to figure out. Like a bike or something, right? His head tilts just a bit at Jack's next question. His baggage? Locke clicks tongue, "A little of this, a little of that. Currently it's a woman, I'm sure you understand." He says it casually even if it hurts. Nothing about his outward expression would give it away, anyway.

And I don't have the right
To ask where you go at night

JACK

Ew, pirates. No accounting for taste, Jack supposes, but the newcomer doesn't seem to have any of that in his recent experiences, so he supposes it can be forgiven. Jack will certainly be keeping a close eye on him regardless. The rest of the crew fall on the basket like the ravenous animals they are, and the cheers and rough sounds of approval are enough to solidify Locke's place on the ship, if nothing else.

"Looks like you've been accepted," Jack says, chewing thoughtfully on his jerky as he motions for Locke to follow after him so he can tour the ship, see the kitchens, the cannons, the rest of the Ark's underbelly and so on. "We sail at the beginnin' of Leafchange. Goin' for a shorter voyage this time, should be back in plenty of time t'attend the Festival of Lights, if that's your thing."

Actually Jack doesn't understand, never having been foolish enough to wrap his heart around anything that didn't already belong to him, but he gets the gist. "Well, plenty of bunks to jump into if that's your thing. Either way, as long as it doesn't fuck with your job, we're good."

you are a quiet god
and your hunger is cavernous

LOCKE

He watches his wares be gobbled down and preens a little. At least they'll be appreciative of his work. And maybe by the time he gets back, he'll have sorted through his feelings or some shit. Honestly, he's trying very hard not to think about Maeve and relationships at the moment. He gives Jack a little grin and follows after him. He's seen the Ark docked and he's been on it casually, when he went to the party. But he's not looked around much. He was too busy with a kid at the time.

The Festival of Lights, right. Leafchange. His birthday. Fuck he's old. He kind of shrugs, "Sounds good to me. Always like to see the lanterns." He's never made one himself, that means admitting things he doesn't want to admit, it's fine. He tucks his hands back into his pockets, schooling his expression into something more blank. He'll be fine.

"Think I'm calling that off for awhile." Yeah, sex hasn't gotten him anywhere good lately. "It won't. Do you know about how long we'll be sailing for?" Gotta figure out rations and that'll keep his brain busy for the most part.

And I don't have the right
To ask where you go at night

JACK

This time, at least, Locke will have a chance to look properly around the deck, fore and aft, the sails, the ropes, the crow's nest far above. They scoot by the captain's cabin but of course they don't go inside, and Jack continues down into the belly of the ship: cannons, stores and stock, bunks and, of course, the kitchen. He might have snorted a laugh to hear Locke's internal commentary about being old, but of course the other man doesn't know he's privy to it. So instead, as they head back up to the deck, he offers a brisk nod. Doesn't really matter to him whether or not Locke is getting his dick wet.

"We'll be back around mid season," he says. "Plenty of time to get away an' plenty of time to get fucked up all over again, if that's your thing." Smirking, he leads them back towards the gangplank. "Any questions? If not I'll see you the morning we sail. If you need any ingredients or whatever, best put in word for 'em now. When we're out, we're out."

you are a quiet god
and your hunger is cavernous

LOCKE

He gives Jack and nod and goes to look through what is already there. He'll need a few things but its well enough stocked that he doesn't really need to get them. He's just too picky about his own cooking. And they can always supplement with fish and maybe whatever he can find wherever they end up. He's not too worried about the where so much as the when and tomorrow is good enough for him. He follows after Jack and a moment later is off the ship. He gives the captain a little wave before wandering off to see what spices he can dig up.

-FIN-

And I don't have the right
To ask where you go at night