Who: Captain Jack and open What: Trying to figure this place out When: His arrival, late evening Where: If only he knew. Somewhere not far from the library
Jack weaved his way down the street, not paying much attention to the few people who passed him and not expecting them to pay any attention to him. If he really was in the Locker, they were all dead too. Or some part of his subconscious. And he was just as happy not getting better acquainted with either. Occasionally as he passed a building he'd stop, open the door long enough to peer inside, then continue on his way, arms akimbo. What he really needed if he was going to be stuck here for all eternity was some rum. A lot of rum, actually. Second to that, he'd be needing a ship.
Which brought about the second and only slightly less pressing concern than the lack of rum. A distinct lack of water. Stopping on the corner of two streets, he pulled out his compass and flipped it open. The dial was still spinning wildly in circles. Apparently the thing he wanted most in the world wasn't all that apparent here. He hoped to God that didn't mean rum was what he wanted most right now.
Tucking it away again, he lifted a finger in to the air, feeling the direction of the wind. If he was going to find water, that was where the wind would be coming from. If things worked that way. Hard to say in the Locker. Though so far that wasn't what he'd been expecting either.