Jack hides a smirk as he makes his way up the short pier, hearing the other three fall unevenly into line behind him.
He knows instinctually where they'll find his former-and-yet-to-be First Mate; the bar, and if not there, then passed out drunk somewhere nearby. Old habits die hard, after all… even if they've been transferred from a previous life.
The whispered conversation between Lizzie and the whelp dies down as Jack wrenches open the door to Pirate's Shanty. A fitting name, all things considered. It takes less than a second before he locates Gibbs, hiding away in a dark corner. His old friend is nursing a single bottle of ale.
"Master Gibbs!" Jack crows across the busy tavern. The pirate makes his way between the tightly-packed tables of day drinkers to his friend, grinning. His words and attire bring many eyes to him, before settling elsewhere. "I thought I'd find ye here."
Formerly-and-soon-to-be First Mate Gibbs squints at Jack, hand falling away from the bottle as it thuds against the wood table.
"Jack?" he asks incredulously. The man turns his gaze to the rest of the group behind his former Captain. "An' Elizabeth too! Oh, I haven't seen you in ages!"
Lizzie's eyes grow very wide, like she's just seen a ghost. Jack snickers to himself—after all, in a sense they could all be considered ghosts.
"Mr. Gibbs?" she exclaims. "I remember you! You worked with my dad for a few years, then you…" This is where she falters. Jack can't help but smile knowingly, as it was clear the girl was trying to differentiate between the two pasts. Living two lives will do that to you.
She just keeps staring into space, but it looks like Will has it covered. Jack claps his hands, startling both Gibbs and dear Norrie from where he was staring holes into the ground.
"Well!" he says brightly, "how 'bout you finish up that bottle and we leave this joint?" Gibbs nods hurriedly and downs the rest of it in one go, slamming it on the table before standing.
He nearly falls over, but nonetheless grins up to Jack to ask, "Where we be goin' next, Captain?"
Jack withdraws a glass bottle from an inside pocket. He turns it over in his weathered hands, and hears gasps from the other four as they register the familiar ship within. Water crashes against the glass, and a black pirate ship rides the waves with tiny lightning bolts illuminating his trusty companion.
"Well," the Captain of the Black Pearl says, "I think we've been too long without my beloved ship."
The five of them make their way outside, where it's starting to rain. The people of Tortuga hurry inside their homes under coats and newspapers. Water droplets drip down Jack's coat, and his boots slosh in the streets.
He frowns. The previously cheerful afternoon with no clouds in sight has turned into a gloomy rainy day within minutes. In the distance, white-capped waves crash against the beach.
"Let me guess," Gibbs says, interrupting Jack's thoughts. "You're going to tell me that we've been 'reincarnated.'"
"...Aye," the captain confirms. "What gave me away?" He fiddles with a gold ring on his right hand.
Gibbs heaves a sigh. "Oh, I don't know. The feeling that the past week, months; years? Have already happened?"
The soaked group arrives at the docks, near the Fair Wind, which they'd have to abandon—great ship, just not Jack's—and Gibbs opens his mouth and then closes it, like a goldfish.
"Speaking of feelings," he finally says, "I got a feeling that something here ain't quite right."
Jack squints up into the sky, where the clouds are forming into an alarming spiral shape, blue funnels curving unnaturally. Below, the sea churns in icy waves, at odds with the tropic surroundings. The Fair Wind rocks in the water.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to agree with Mr. Gibbs," James interjects. The man points at the horizon, where the waves seem to be abruptly heading toward.
"Must be Calypso," Jack muses out loud. The captain pulls his compass away from where it's looped around his belt. Flicking it open, a gold needle spins only once before settling.
Pointing directly towards the eye of the storm.
Jack lets the compass clasp shut. "Well!" he declares, clapping his hands together. "Who thinks we should go have a looksies?"