tampered | Log: Ongoing;

Log: Ongoing;

When; September 15; Mid afternoon
Rating; PG
Characters; Ragetti

she_witch
Summary; Rags and Willow go in search of Building 8, Room 13
Log;

Building eight. Where was building eight?

If Willow hadn't been with him, Ragetti would be entirely lost. Back in the Caribbean, he had no real need to learn to read and write. He was a pirate, for chrissake. It wasn't really a necessary skill to have when sea-fairing. Normally Ragetti was good about picking out landmarks and finding his way by them. But his depth perception wasn't always the hottest, and with the lights and colours and foreign buildings and that bloody tick-tocking--

The pirate still didn't really know where the hell they were, and he was feeling nervous and antsy. And how the hell was there an ocean in a building? She was uncatchable, untameable, she shouldn't be able to be locked in the confines of a building like a... a man ready to make the walk to the gallows.

Hunching slightly, one eye glanced erratically about at their surroundings as his fingers twisted restlessly around one another. During that damned floating day he had lost his dagger, which he took to playing with like a worry stone in times like these, and really-- this was all just shaping up to be a bad experience. Flinching away from the neon glow of yet another strange sign, he trotted a little faster to catch up to Willow.

"Oi, are we gettin' close?" He asked anxiously, glancing uncomprehendingly at the squiggles on the buildings. Ragetti couldn't wait to learn how to be able to read all these things, but the idea kind of lingered on the edges of his thoughts. He was too nervous to focus on anything but finding his friend. Until he found Pintel, there was no way he would be able to relax.

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Building eight hadn't been hard to find. (A lot of walking, though, and his shoes were starting to irritate his feet.) Room thirteen, though, somehow eluded him completely, and he was now lost somewhere in the bowls of aforementioned building, looking for an ocean. (Which was a stupid goal in itself. It was a bloody building, for the Christ's sake.)

Hardly needless to say, with all of his grumbling, but Pintel was fast becoming annoyed with this whole set-up. He was trying to back-track now, heading down the stairwell from which he'd come, trying to remember which hallway-that-went-on-and-on was which. Once he found the ocean, he may be able to find another livelyhood. He'd told Sparrow that he wouldn't sign articles at least until he'd found Ragetti, but... He hadn't even heard anything about the other. Maybe he hadn't followed him to the City, after all...

He opened a door and ended up on the street-side again. Some side-entrance had played him for a fool. "Dammit." He resisted the urge to slam his forehead into the nearest wall. "Fer tha lova' God an' all above." He made up short strings of curses as he made his way back around to the front of the building.

With a grunt, he sat himself down on the stoop of the complex. He'd have to try again, but he wasn't quite up to it, yet.

Before they'd set off, Willow had forced him to sit still long enough for her to set up a basic locater spell. It was a little tougher, though, because it wasn't tracking a specific person this time... It was tracking a building.

Really, Willow could have just wandered around and followed the building numbers like a normal person, but it was a pretty big city, and this would simply be quickest. Such a small and easy spell... She wasn't worried.

When the small glowing light floated up from the map, Willow was quick to stand and follow, motioning for her newest acquaintance to follow behind. With a sigh and another glance back to Ragetti, Willow gave a quick nod before looking back ahead of her. "Yeah... See?"

She came to an abrupt halt outside of the building when the glow dissipated and motioned with her hand. "Building eight! Now we just need to find the room, which is easy." The young red head moved to step inside, only to pause when she noticed someone sitting on the curb.

Someone ELSE who needed a shower. "Hey guy, you okay? Are you lost, too?"

Easily distracted, Ragetti's attention wandered back and forth between that odd glow the girl conjured, the buildings, and the queer City. As such he nearly ran into the witch when she stopped so suddenly, stumbling a little, body lurching as the lanky pirate caught himself before making contact with his shorter company. Still, he craned a little once his balance was regained, single good eye trailing up at the tall building. Large as it was, it still didn't look big enough to be holding an ocean in it. Ragetti pulled a face.

"Dun see 'ow 'at kin 'ave th'ocean in it," He groused, peering at the structure as though he might be able to figure which floor a massive body of water might be on. He lingered, not having moved before Willow paused, and his attention didn't swing around as she inquired the state of the other person. Really, he didn't care if anyone else was lost-- he had his own problems to deal with at the moment.

Oh, great. Someone trying to be helpful. A lady's voice had chimed in from beside him, sounding like she was talking to a puppy or something. "Sod off," he grumbled, a little sullen from his defeat within the building. He looked up, only to throw the woman a sour look, and caught eyes with the familiar.

"Hey!" The stout man practically hopped up, dusting off his breeches like it might actually do him some good. "There you are!" He'd gone from frowning at the woman to sudden grin, doing his subconscious best to show off his bad teeth. Reaching forward quickly, he clasped Ragetti on the shoulder. "Been lookin' fer ye', I 'ave."

Willow had to cringe a bit as he got near, and she was quick to step out of the way when he went to greet his...friend? Brother? Something like that. They really WERE from the 1700's, just judging from their obvious hygiene problems. And certainly not 'nobles' or whatever, either.

Still, knowing Ragetti found a friend was enough to make her grin and clap her hands together. "Ah hah! See, I knew I was good for somethin'. You found one of your pals!"

She started to stick her hand out, but then thought better of it when she saw how dirty the newcomer was, and rested the aforementioned hand on her hip instead. "So. What's your friend's name?"

Ragetti visibly started at the shout from the other man, but the look of unease on his face immediately evaporated upon noting who the individual was. The way his expression lit up morphed the lines and grime in his skin, and he almost appeared years younger than his true age.

"Pin!" He cried, pleasure obvious in the crooked smile and the crack of his voice. While Pintel had settled to simply gripping his shoulder, the thin pirate responded in a way he didn't tend to in public. Momentarily forgetting Willow was with them, Ragetti all but threw himself onto Pintel, long arms curling around him, face tucking into his shoulder. And it didn't seem the pirate would be letting go anytime soon.

On the contrary, all his focus had been redirected to his friend. Thoughts of oceans and witches and weird cities momentarily cast aside in favour of the feel of the stout, real body against his own. For a while there, he had doubted he might ever see Pintel again. What if he had been stuck here without him forever, and Davy Jones had--- A small noise lit in the back of his throat, but instead of speaking, Ragetti simply curled tighter into Pintel, scarecrow frame trembling with the sudden clash of emotion.

"-tel." He'd fininshed his own name for Ragetti and he was collasped into, looking absolutely awkward. He tensed, eyes moving from the top of Ragetti filthy head to the bystander that the thin man had been tagging along with. His smile faded, brow furrowed once more, and he moved his arms, not to hug his friend back, but to pry him away. "Get offa' me, blast it!"

He was glad to see him, he'd admit, but there were limits that needed to be seen to. He pushed lightly on Ragetti's shoulder for good measure, turning another glare on the young woman. He opened his mouth as if to speak to her, but turned on Ragetti instead. "'Oo's yer friend, 'ere?" He sounded suspicious, but there was hardly a person that he'd met here whom he wasn't up in arms about. She was certainly dressed funny; talked funny, too.

Willow had at least been polite enough to avert her eyes when Ragetti had nearly tackled his good friend 'Pintel' over. Man hugging wasn't something she saw often...at least not so, uh...passionately? Honestly it seemed like a lover's reunion, and it felt rude to just stare.

When Ragetti's friend inquired about her, she took that as her cue to look back and smile. This time she forced herself to stick out her hand. No reason not to be polite! "My name is Willow. You're Pintel? Ragetti here asked me to find room thirteen for him, and I wanted to see if this ocean in a room thing is true."

Really, Pintel's reaction to his over enthusiastic greeting only brightened the lad further. He let go as the shorter pirate manhandled him away, and did duck his head apologetically-- but the smile on his face refused to leave. Despite Pintel's pushing, Ragetti refused to back that far away. Instead, he lingered near Pintel's shoulder, one hand curling into the back of his vest. It was only after Willow had introduced herself that Ragetti was able to calm his stuttering heart and still the quiver in his hands enough to speak.

"She's a witchy-wench," He explained, leaning down a little as if whispering conspiracy theories to his mate. After all, it was a big deal to the illiterate man-- the only other voodoo woman he knew was Tia Dalma, and that lady very seriously intimidated him. He might say an off word about her now and again, but never would he say them to her face. Willow was entirely different, and reminded him maybe a little of Poppet. Either way, he was glad to have met her. Thankful, even. She had reunited him with his best friend and offered to teach him to read, something he had always been too shy to actually ask anyone about. (Except Pintel, but those lessons had been rather short lived.)

Pintel regarded the woman's hand for a moment, but he ignored it overall, lip curling up slightly as if such a gesture displeased him greatly. He felt halfway compelled to knock Ragetti back some more with his elbow, get the blind-sided man further away for a moment, but was stopped by the fist on his jacket, the whisper in which his chum pointed out the occupation of this woman.

His eyes narrowed slightly, "A witch?" He turned back to face Ragetti more directly. "She don' look like much, do she?" He broke into a mocking grin, letting out a quick bark of a chuckle. Then, back to Willow where his smile hid itself again. "I's lookin' fer the ocean, too. S'like it dun' want ta see ya'." He was still rather displeased about having gotten lost inside the building, "'S stupid idea, anyways. 'Less you c'n do better. I ain' pretendin' to be a navigatin' man."

It wasn't hard to overhear them, but Willow just rolled her eyes and let them think they had their little secret party going on. Finally getting the message that he didn't want to shake hands, she drew it away and folded her arms across her chest. "Yeah yeah yeah, I hear ya. Follow me, I guess." She dropped her arms to push the building door open, heading inside to begin searching.

Why did she always get stuck with the weird ones? She couldn't have just met a nice guy in a suit, or maybe a kid who lost her mommy. No, it had to be two crude dirty men who were over three hundred years old or something like that.

Finally, she found room number thirteen...which hadn't been hard at all. Curious, she turned the knob and peeked in, and her jaw dropped at what she saw. "No way...!"

Ragetti gave a soft sort of giggle despite himself. It was true enough-- she didn't look like much of a witch. Definitely didn't look much older than Poppet. A bright eye glanced from Pintel to Willow, and he offered her an apologetic sort of grin. He nudged his friend gently, though, as the girl headed off into the building.

Once inside, though, Ragetti's tension returned. The walls were all far too narrow. It reminded him vaguely of a cage, or a cell, so he ended up muttering about some topic or another to distract himself for the entire journey. Only just before they reached the room did his mindless chatter stop, silence falling over the thin man as he held fast to Pintel's jacket (he hadn't let it go since snagging it outside on the street).

The nervous tension didn't leave Ragetti until Willow expressed her surprise, and only then did he perk up curiously. "Wot? Wotis it? This th'room? 'S'it th'ocean?" He asked in rapid succession, craning to first look at the door as though he might be able to read a number, if it were there, before trying to look into the room.

"Mother 'a' God..." Nobody'd been kidding. The door that the woman opened somehow led to a lovely shoreline. He was wary of stepping in, but put a foot through the door to confirm that is was all solid. There was warmth coming on the wind, the air was hot with the sun reflecting off of the sand and ocean. There were the docks... The heavily-armed ship that Sparrow had told him about.

Ragetti was still searching the hallway for something, despite his nerves before. Always asking such stupid questions, he was. Pintel siezed him by the upper arm and jerked him forward, shoving him almost harshly into the shore-room. "Look fer yerself, ye git!" Leaving the doorway himself, he plodded out onto the sand, cracking a grin. "What d'ye think, Ragetti?" Another glance around before he stopped to mutter, "Aweful strange, innit?"

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Log: Ongoing;

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