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Pirates of the Caribbean
Title: Ragetti’s New Eye
Summary: The title says it all, really.
The sharp tip of the blade pricked Pintel’s finger. Cursing, he placed the finger in his mouth and sucked the blood off it. He glared at the piece of wood in his hands that was supposed to be a sphere but more closely resembled a dry lump of clay. He was tempted (and not for the first time) to give up and throw the thing into the sea. But the thought of that loathsome black patch on Ragetti’s face smarted worse than the cut on his finger. So he gritted his teeth and bent once more to his task.
Whenever Ragetti asked him where he disappeared to he either ignored him or fabricated some quick lie. He didn’t want Ragetti to know about his project, not yet. Besides, the final result might turn out to be crap. A few more cuts later, the piece of wood finally had an acceptable shape. He covered it in white paint, coloring his fingers in the process. Later, when Ragetti asked about the whitened fingers, Pintel distracted him so thoroughly that Ragetti couldn’t remember what color his fingers were.
Pintel decided that what little artistic skill he possessed wasn’t near good enough to paint a realistic eye, so he didn’t even try. Instead he waited until they arrived at a port and forced the first painter that he found to do it for him.
The eye was ready, but Pintel wasn’t sure about it. It looked good enough, even though no one would be fooled by it. But it probably wouldn’t fit right. What if it was uncomfortable? Well, if Ragetti didn’t like it he wasn’t going to force him to wear it. Not wanting to simply hand it over straight from his hand, he put it in a small box.
During one of their usual drunken revelries, Pintel took him aside to give him the present.
‘I got ye something,’ he said, offering Ragetti the box.
A happy grin spread across Ragetti’s face. ‘Ye got me a gift?’ He eagerly took the box.
‘Aye. Now don’ make a fuss over it, just open it.’
Ragetti quickly did so and stared at the box’s contents for the longest time before looking up at Pintel with an astonished expression.
‘It’s an eye.’
‘It’s just wood, nothing special. But I ‘ad to find something to fill in that ‘ole in yer face. I don’t like that patch ye got. Don’t look right.’
Ragetti had taken the eye out; he was turning it over in his hand, admiring it from every angle.
‘It’s luverly. Thank you. Ye didn’--’
‘I said don’ make a fuss. Now try it on.’
Ragetti pulled off the patch that covered the right side of his face and pushed the eye into the empty socket. He rolled it around, delighted to have something to fill in the void in his face. It was a bit loose, but he didn’t mind.
‘Well, ‘ow does it fit?’ Pintel asked, watching Ragetti expectantly.
‘It’s a little loose, but that’s a’righ‘.’
‘I knew it,’ Pintel said, disgruntled. ‘I should ‘ave ‘ad someone else make it.’
Ragetti‘s one eye widened. ‘Ye made it?’
‘I carved it. Someone else painted the eye, ye know I’m no good at those things.'
A memory clicked in Ragetti’s mind.
‘That’s what ye were doing all those times I couldn‘ find ye. Ye were making this.’
Pintel rubbed the back of his neck while absently looking at the deck, embarrassed at Ragetti’s enthusiasm.
‘I wanted it ter be a surprise.’
‘Aw, Pinters, ye didn’t ‘ave to.’
‘But I wanted to, a’ righ‘? It’s not right for ye to ‘ave lost yer eye like that. Ye won’t be able to see through this one but at least ye’ll look like ye used to.’
He suddenly raised his hand to Ragetti’s face. Ragetti flinched, but Pintel just placed the tip of his finger on the wooden eye and gently rotated it slightly.
‘There,’ he said, satisfied. ‘Now ye look like yer old self.’
He wrapped his arm around Ragetti’s shoulders and started leading them toward the others.
‘C’mon, let’s ‘ave a drink.’
Ragetti grinned and let Pintel lead the way, happily moving his new eye.
Title: Ragetti’s New Eye
Summary: The title says it all, really.
The sharp tip of the blade pricked Pintel’s finger. Cursing, he placed the finger in his mouth and sucked the blood off it. He glared at the piece of wood in his hands that was supposed to be a sphere but more closely resembled a dry lump of clay. He was tempted (and not for the first time) to give up and throw the thing into the sea. But the thought of that loathsome black patch on Ragetti’s face smarted worse than the cut on his finger. So he gritted his teeth and bent once more to his task.
Whenever Ragetti asked him where he disappeared to he either ignored him or fabricated some quick lie. He didn’t want Ragetti to know about his project, not yet. Besides, the final result might turn out to be crap. A few more cuts later, the piece of wood finally had an acceptable shape. He covered it in white paint, coloring his fingers in the process. Later, when Ragetti asked about the whitened fingers, Pintel distracted him so thoroughly that Ragetti couldn’t remember what color his fingers were.
Pintel decided that what little artistic skill he possessed wasn’t near good enough to paint a realistic eye, so he didn’t even try. Instead he waited until they arrived at a port and forced the first painter that he found to do it for him.
The eye was ready, but Pintel wasn’t sure about it. It looked good enough, even though no one would be fooled by it. But it probably wouldn’t fit right. What if it was uncomfortable? Well, if Ragetti didn’t like it he wasn’t going to force him to wear it. Not wanting to simply hand it over straight from his hand, he put it in a small box.
During one of their usual drunken revelries, Pintel took him aside to give him the present.
‘I got ye something,’ he said, offering Ragetti the box.
A happy grin spread across Ragetti’s face. ‘Ye got me a gift?’ He eagerly took the box.
‘Aye. Now don’ make a fuss over it, just open it.’
Ragetti quickly did so and stared at the box’s contents for the longest time before looking up at Pintel with an astonished expression.
‘It’s an eye.’
‘It’s just wood, nothing special. But I ‘ad to find something to fill in that ‘ole in yer face. I don’t like that patch ye got. Don’t look right.’
Ragetti had taken the eye out; he was turning it over in his hand, admiring it from every angle.
‘It’s luverly. Thank you. Ye didn’--’
‘I said don’ make a fuss. Now try it on.’
Ragetti pulled off the patch that covered the right side of his face and pushed the eye into the empty socket. He rolled it around, delighted to have something to fill in the void in his face. It was a bit loose, but he didn’t mind.
‘Well, ‘ow does it fit?’ Pintel asked, watching Ragetti expectantly.
‘It’s a little loose, but that’s a’righ‘.’
‘I knew it,’ Pintel said, disgruntled. ‘I should ‘ave ‘ad someone else make it.’
Ragetti‘s one eye widened. ‘Ye made it?’
‘I carved it. Someone else painted the eye, ye know I’m no good at those things.'
A memory clicked in Ragetti’s mind.
‘That’s what ye were doing all those times I couldn‘ find ye. Ye were making this.’
Pintel rubbed the back of his neck while absently looking at the deck, embarrassed at Ragetti’s enthusiasm.
‘I wanted it ter be a surprise.’
‘Aw, Pinters, ye didn’t ‘ave to.’
‘But I wanted to, a’ righ‘? It’s not right for ye to ‘ave lost yer eye like that. Ye won’t be able to see through this one but at least ye’ll look like ye used to.’
He suddenly raised his hand to Ragetti’s face. Ragetti flinched, but Pintel just placed the tip of his finger on the wooden eye and gently rotated it slightly.
‘There,’ he said, satisfied. ‘Now ye look like yer old self.’
He wrapped his arm around Ragetti’s shoulders and started leading them toward the others.
‘C’mon, let’s ‘ave a drink.’
Ragetti grinned and let Pintel lead the way, happily moving his new eye.