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Libertalia, much like Shipwreck Cove, was a pirate sanctuary. But, since Libertalia was located in Madagascar instead of the Caribbean, Jack finds himself infinitely more comfortable here, the closest things to home being this and Captain Teague's ship.
It was very loud, the house they stayed in. Especially when Teague was trying to overthrow Patriarch in order to gain the family fortune. (Teague's fortune? Their fortune? Jack's old enough to wonder if Teague is his father or not, but not old enough to know for certain.)
Jack had escaped long ago, wandering the city, talking and joking and laughing and flirting and drinking and picking pockets. It's in high spirits that he makes his way back. Jack knows there's a shortcut through the woods and he's just confident enough to take it, with only the moonlight and the stars to light his path. He's about half way back when he sees them.
Lights. Small, like the fire from a candle, but floating in midair. There are many of them, all at various heights, all over the tress and the bushes and the grass and the branches.
Fireflies.
With a grin and without a second thought, Jack runs after them, reaching his hands out in front of him, jumping as high as he can and bending down low in an attempt to catch one. He hasn't caught one yet, but he remains undeterred, laughing and leaping and clapping his hands together.
It's not until the last firefly disappears that Jack finally looks another look around him. It's dark and all the tress look alike and nothing looks familiar. It's with a trace of fright that Jack realizes that he might be lost.
He finds the brightest star in the sky and beings to follow that. If he walks long enough, he's sure to find something, right?
Well, as it happens, something finds him.
"Jackie."
He gives a gasp, spinning around to find Captain Teague standing there. "Sir," he greets back, equal parts relieved and surprised. He hadn't heard Teague walk up, but Teague must know a way back.
There's a single firefly floating around Teague's hat and, in the blink of an eye, Teague has reached out and snatched it out of the air in one giant hand. A hand that he holds out to Jack, firefly still alive and glowing through the cracks of his fingers.
If you look close enough, Teague might even be smiling. But the grin Jack gives back is ten times brighter.
It was very loud, the house they stayed in. Especially when Teague was trying to overthrow Patriarch in order to gain the family fortune. (Teague's fortune? Their fortune? Jack's old enough to wonder if Teague is his father or not, but not old enough to know for certain.)
Jack had escaped long ago, wandering the city, talking and joking and laughing and flirting and drinking and picking pockets. It's in high spirits that he makes his way back. Jack knows there's a shortcut through the woods and he's just confident enough to take it, with only the moonlight and the stars to light his path. He's about half way back when he sees them.
Lights. Small, like the fire from a candle, but floating in midair. There are many of them, all at various heights, all over the tress and the bushes and the grass and the branches.
Fireflies.
With a grin and without a second thought, Jack runs after them, reaching his hands out in front of him, jumping as high as he can and bending down low in an attempt to catch one. He hasn't caught one yet, but he remains undeterred, laughing and leaping and clapping his hands together.
It's not until the last firefly disappears that Jack finally looks another look around him. It's dark and all the tress look alike and nothing looks familiar. It's with a trace of fright that Jack realizes that he might be lost.
He finds the brightest star in the sky and beings to follow that. If he walks long enough, he's sure to find something, right?
Well, as it happens, something finds him.
"Jackie."
He gives a gasp, spinning around to find Captain Teague standing there. "Sir," he greets back, equal parts relieved and surprised. He hadn't heard Teague walk up, but Teague must know a way back.
There's a single firefly floating around Teague's hat and, in the blink of an eye, Teague has reached out and snatched it out of the air in one giant hand. A hand that he holds out to Jack, firefly still alive and glowing through the cracks of his fingers.
If you look close enough, Teague might even be smiling. But the grin Jack gives back is ten times brighter.
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