Crackers Don't Matter, (Esther)

[Blades Bill]

It was a quiet, tranquil life on a skyship. Sometimes. The hum of the engine was smooth enough to engender deep thought, of life, of love, of adventure...

Of potatoes.

"Blades" Bill O'Dell sat in the back of the galley, peeling potatoes as was his cultural curse. He knew an Irishman peeling a potato was a stereotypical sight, but dammit, they had a bag and supper needed making. Today's menu included beef and potato stew... and french fries. With Mr. Pibb because that's all they could get. He briefly considered making potato straws, but he considered that to be a bridge too far.

As he peeled, he sang a little song to himself to pass the time. "You take th'high road, and I'll take th'low road, and I'll be in Scotland a'fore ye..."

Yeah, it was a Scottish song, but it sounded good on his lips and fuck the English anyways.

That's when he realized he had a guest...

[Sheol]

"Hi," Esther interrupted his song. He was still peeling potatoes. Wasn't that supposed to be some sort of punishment? Esther was pretty sure that she had seen enough movies to know that peeling potatoes was a punishment. This guy was probably a total fuck up and she was ruining her chances at succeeding at anything by talking to him.

She was hungry though.

"Are there some snacks around here?" she asked. "I think I might starve."

It was totally rude to ask for food without introducing herself and she stuck out her hand. "I'm Esther."

[Blades Bill]

"Ah!" Bill said, pulling himself to his feet via convenient overhead pipe. He wiped his hands off on his wifebeater and extended one to Esther. "Y'must be th'new XO. Bill. Blades Bill, they call me. Nice t'meet yuh."

He looked around the dimly lit galley for some food that wasn't uncooked and tuberous. "And as t'snacks, um... how d'you feel about Pringles, boss?"

[Sheol]

Esther nodded. "I suppose I am," and that had all been a strange and confusing turn of events. It seemed like a promotion, though, and one couldn't argue with a promotion.

"Pringles are fine." When was the last time she'd even had Pringles? Forever, probably. It actually sounded like the best snack ever at the moment. If only chocolate was somehow involved. "Thanks."

She smiled awkwardly. "Am I interrupting?" She was probably interrupting. Fuck.

[Blades Bill]

"Ah!" he said, waving a hand to blow off the intrusion. "I'm halfway there already. It's no problem."

He confidently strode over to the pantry (it must have been a pantry; it was closet shaped, at least) and pulled out a tube of multigrain ketchup Pringles, a bit of saran wrap pulled over the top with a rubber band in addition to the lid for freshness. Hurling the tube to Esther (why not, half of them were smashed anyways, he inquired, "Y'wouldn't want a Mr. Pibb t'go with that, wouldja?"

[Sheol]

"No," she answered politely as she caught the tube. "This is fine, thanks."

Ketchup chips. What the fuck were ketchup chips? She tried not to look too horrified while she inspected the label. Esther was, after all, pretty hungry. Her other concern was that she was going to get scurvy, because, come on, Pringles and Mr Pibb? She was not seven. She tried a chip, experimentally. It wasn't the worst thing. Maybe a little weird.

"So," she ventured. "How long have you been doing this pirate thing?"

[Blades Bill]

"Well, first, I prefer 'ind'pend'nt businessm'n'," he corrected with a grin, "and a coupl'a years. Just trying t'raise some funds, retire with a grin, all that stuff. Are y'new to it?" he asked. "The proverbial landlubber, as it were?"

[Sheol]

Esther ate another chip before deciding how she wanted to respond. "I'm new at this." She scrambled to think of anything that would count as related experience but she was struggling to do so.

She paused. "I guess you could say I'm making somewhat of a major career change."

[Blades Bill]

"Has t'happen at some point, boss," he said, returning to his duties as potato peeler. "Best t'jus' jump in rather than flout about not knowin' what y'want doin'."

He palmed a potato and extended it to Esther. "Wouldja care t'join me? Work goes faster with twice th'hands..."

[Sheol]

She looked at him blankly. Really? Really?

Esther has sort of hoped that she'd moved past that point in her life. She did know how to peel potatoes, of course, but things were supposed to be different now. Things couldn't be different if she was doing someone else's bitch work. On the other hand, she'd probably look like an asshole if she said no.

After some hesitation she sat and accepted the potato. "Yes."

[Blades Bill]

"Thank y'kindly, boss," he replied. "This'll go fast, promise."

A lightbulb went off in his head. "Oh. An' another peeler... lessee... here." He handed her the one in his own hand and stood up to root through a cutlery drawer until he returned with a long knife with a gentle curve. "Ah. There we go..."

Plunking back down and starting in on a new spud, he asked, "So how'd y'run across our infamous Captain Blake?"

[Sheol]

"It was sort of random, actually," she answered as she worked. "I was in this coffee shop and he sort of just busted in." Literally. "And asked if I wanted to go with him. I didn't have anything that really seemed better to do, so."

So indeed :"Here I am." Esther shrugged and felt that statement explained most of her life thus far.

"What about you?" Esther was pretty sure Blades had never actually been the Captain's wench. But... you never knew. She was open to alternate lifestyles.

[Blades Bill]

"Ah, well, I was born up here," he said. "... not this one. My parents' ship, the O'Malley. Once I set off on my own, I bounced around a few ships, landed here, actually started gettin' money... decided to stay. Mostly cuz the cap'n'd die in a week without me. He's decent enough that I wouldn' want that happ'nin' on my account."

[Sheol]

She nodded and shot him a sly grin. "Most men are some degree of helpless." It was true, the whole lot of them. Her workers, her brother (fuck), her ex-fiance... actually the only person not included in this was Kristján but he was a demon so there must have been some sort of loophole.

"He seems nice, the Captain." Also crazy as a fruit bat. But so was Esther, so she didn't judge.

[Blades Bill]

"Well, one, that he is," he agreed, "but two, hey. Y'be talkin' to a MEMBER of that hapless class of humans called men. I'd call m'self dead b'fore I called m'self helpless!"

He tossed a potato in with the others. "Even dead, I got organs y'wouldn't believe. And there's good eatin' on me."