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#sail under the black
sailundertheblack · 1 year
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"Calamity Queen"
Artwork by Marta Nael
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swashed-buckles · 4 months
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Think about sword fighting your mortal enemy on the prow of a ship.
If circumstances had been a bit different, you could’ve been friends. Maybe even more. But too much has passed between you. The knowledge that you’ll never change, that they’ll never let you go. Now all that’s left is to fight until only one of you remains.
There’s a single moment, a rush of air and exhausted breath. The killing blow, they stab you through the heart. That last look you’d share. One of shock, maybe. Or resignation.
Then you’re falling backward, over the side of the boat. A flash of sky, then icy water. Salt filling your lungs, burning as your blood rises in clouds around you, the only part of you that will reach the surface.
The pressure crushes you, but you’re already fading. In that moment, everything is calm. Your mortal enemy never speaks of what happened, leaving you to haunt the ocean as a story, something used to scare children.
Down below, the sharks have taken your body, but your legend is a part of the ocean, every bit as much as the sun and the tides.
I’m having a normal one.
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visualizingmyfuture · 7 months
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Captain Aeribella. She is a pirate, and a poet. She is the wind, she is the sea. Her city adores her, and her enemies flee. It's not easy doing what she does, leading a crew across oceans, searching for meaning. Super cool though, she was kind and really inspiring to talk to.
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pirate-scum1741 · 1 year
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"No man will be a sailor, who has contrivance
enough to get himself into a jail; for being in
a ship is being in a jail, with the chance
of being drowned.."
Samuel Johnson, The Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides.
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p00sy-d3stro7er · 1 month
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I actually thought that my previous text post would be the last one but I found these in the depths of my gallery so. Enjoy your meal *throws them like chicken feed*
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myrmeraki · 8 months
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james flint + the sea
our wives under the sea - julia armfield / black sails screencaps 2x9, 1x1, 1x8, 1x8 / moby dick - herman melville
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kvetchinglyneurotic · 5 months
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so something i noticed on my latest black sails rewatch is that despite most of the show taking place on various ships we never really find out what skills silver has as a sailor? like he's pretending to be a cook when flint's crew picks him up and we never see him doing regular sailor duties on the walrus, and when he's briefly left in charge while flint is ashore he says that he's basically agreeing with whatever mr. de groot says to hide that he doesn't know what he's doing. but also he wasn't the cook on the ship he was on before the walrus and he knew where to damage the ship to keep vane's crew from leaving charleston, so he is an experienced sailor? maybe? i don't have a point i just love how the more you watch the more you start having flint on the cliffs moments where you realize that despite watching him for four seasons, you don't really know anything about john silver
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cemeterything · 6 months
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I feel like The Terror and Black Sails have similar vibes (homoerotic men on boats) but I've never seen The Terror, would you recommend??
i wouldn't say the vibes are especially similar beyond surface level but if you liked black sails you will almost certainly like the terror because it also has devastating monologues that will forever raise your standards for storytelling, filthy sailor guys with every disease, a guilt riddled rage-fuelled captain who can't stop lying and alienating the people around him, strong and well written anticolonial themes, a cunty second in command who steals every scene he's in, schemes that go horrifically wrong with tragic consequences, homoeroticism, and boats.
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absolutely batshit insane response to a man telling you about how he lost the love of his life
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camembri · 2 months
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every time I see people talking about post-canon one piece and about how the strawhats all go their separate ways it makes me want to start climbing walls and gnawing on the plaster!!!! what do you Mean the found family is going to split up... what do you mean they don't sail together forever... how else are they supposed to satisfy that itch under their skin... who else is meant to understand them... who else has seen their most agonizing moments and their best victories...
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sailundertheblack · 6 months
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"Treasure Island"
Artwork by Sergey Shikin
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swashed-buckles · 4 months
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Introducing Captain Cropas. Also known as the captain. Notorious pirate and terrible liar. She’s never seen a kraken, but she does have a missing eye and a grudge against the one who took it. Sorry for my terrible writing. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.
There was a fine line between the intimidation of being rarely seen and simply being presumed dead. Unfortunately, this meant the Captain needed to spend some amount of time on land.
The Black Flag tavern was far from the worst establishment on the pirate island of Japal. Though, that wasn’t saying much. It had sprung up within the hull of a long-beached galleon, perpetually rotting plants shored up by years of patrons. It was dank, dark, and stank of salt. Not so different from her ship. If it wasn’t for the incessant noise and unnerving stillness of the ground, she could almost imagine being at sea once again. Muffled screams echoed from nearby booth, drowned out by the twang of a hurdy-gurdy. Within moments dozens of inebriated voices had joined in, carrying a shanty that sounded like a dozen seagulls being strangled in unison. The chant swelled, clamouring for attention.
Ohhhhh, What will we do with a drunken sailer, what will we do with a drunken sailer! What will we do with a drunken sail-er ear-ly in the morning!
The Captain could picture quite a few things, actually. Most involving shoving a sword down their throats, if only to get them to shut up. But the longer she sat alone, the more she couldn’t help but look at them. Disdainful glances, at first. Then detached interest. The more she watched, the warmer the throng of revellers looked. Comforting like a well-worn boot. She wouldn’t be caught dead joining in. Captain Cropas didn’t sing, and she certainly didn’t make a fool of herself surrounded by strangers. If word got out, there wouldn’t be a ship on the sea that would surrender to her. Besides, half these men would be dead or killing one another within the month.
The Captain focused on the drink in her hands, taking a tentative sip. She nearly spat it over the table. It would certainly get her drunk, but that didn’t make it taste any less like horse piss. She had work to do. Finding new crew, to replace those damaged or lost in her latest raids. The Captain grabbed her drink, making her way over to the bar. She sat between two drunks. One slumped over, the other still sitting, and for enough. A tattoo of a tiger wound up his arm, half-decapitated by a long scar. She leaned against the bar, taking a deep breath.
“I’m Captain Cropas” Recognition flashed in his eyes. Not quite the reaction she had hoped for, but it would do.
“I happen to be in the market for a crew. You seem competent enough. If you sign with me, I can promise you gold, glory, adventure-.”
“What happened to you?” The man blinked stupidly, gesturing with his mug of ale. She didn’t need to ask. It was the same question, everywhere she went. The eyepatch hideous, and quite impossible to hide. The Captain held back an irritated sigh. She hated being interrupted almost as much as she hated question. But she’d be damned if she let it show. She flashed him a conspiratorial grin.
“The kraken.”
“kraken’s not real.” The sailer insisted. Still, he leaned forward, his drunken stare almost focused.
“That’s exactly what I used to say. But he’s real alright. Bigger than a whale, and ugly as sin. Buy me another round, and I just might tell the story.” Curiosity was a powerful thing. A few minutes later she had a pint and a willing audience.
“It was a dark night. Fog rolled in from the west, too thick to see your boots. Then out of the mist, a sound like nothing I’d ever heard.” The Captain lied. She’d been blinded by more than fog that evening, and she hadn’t been in the ship. The nearby chatter had ceased, patrons listening in. She paused, taking a sip of her drink. Better to tell the story once and get it over with. She hated the way they always stared, eyes lingering on the patch.
“Next thing I knew, my first mate was screaming bloody murder. Then I saw the tentacles. Thick as tree trunks, studded with every hook and harpoon that failed to kill the beast. That, is how I lost my eye.”
The last thing her left eye saw was a brilliant flash of silver, the same image still burned into her head.
“It had me in a moment, suckers wrapped around my head- horribly strong, stinking of fish. One of them plucked the eye right from my head, but I wouldn’t die so easily.“
Shed screamed, clutching her ruined eye was blood down her face, her neck. It was horrifyingly warm. By the time she’d found her bearings, her assailant had vanished. The Captain fought back the memory. She slammed her mug down for emphasis, the liquid sloshing within.
“Sliced right through the tentacle and ran for the cannons as it tried to crush the life from the ship. Sent some shot right into the bastard, then sailed to port fast as the wind could carry me.”
She’d had to crawl into an alleyway, like some sort of wounded animal.
“It’s still out there, somewhere. One day we’ll meet again, and I’ll kill it myself.”
That much was true. She would find them, even if she had to scour every corner of the world. Then, and only then, would she be free of the memories, the anger. She could finally move on.
“Any more questions?”
(Credit to my lovely girlfriend for the idea)
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visualizingmyfuture · 7 months
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So here's the story of how I met Captain Aeribella. I was writing a paper in music history class about the "legend" of said captain, how there are multiple accounts of this person, but the dates are so far apart that it has always been assumed that it was but another impersonator taking on the name and persona of Captain Aeribella as a way to ride on the coattails of the original famous singing pirate. That's what led me to the Boston Museum of Fine Art, where I had heard they had a scale model of her ship. I love that kind of thing, so I just had to go see. Anyway, there I was kneeling in front of the glass case, admiring the gaff rigging, and then turning my head to get a clearer view of the keel, when I caught the eye of someone on the other side, parallel with me as if she had been doing the same. We both laughed and I said "oh hello!". "You like ships?" She asked. "Yes! But this one in particular, I've been writing a school paper about her captain." She took a deep breathe and smiled. "I've studied her life a lot" she said, "Let's connect via email". I was surprised by this openness from a stranger, but I agreed, and we kept in contact... or rather, I was emailed by her assistant, which I thought was strange. They scheduled a time to meet at a seafood truck downtown by the docks. By this time, I was equally interested in learning more about my new friend, (who went by Bella), as I was in completing the music history class assignment. So one Saturday we met up at our agreed upon location and enjoyed some crab cakes, although squeezed under a beach umbrella to escape the rain... which stopped after a few minutes, thankfully. When the sun came out, she asked if I wanted to see her sailing yacht, and obviously I was all about that. It was a sleek, double masted, gaff rigged wooden schooner. I don't know when exactly I finally realized who I was really talking to, I just knew I was utterly swept away by her energy, her wise quips, the way her schooner gracefully sliced through the water under her steady hand on the helm, with the sound of her laughter and her occasional songs drifting on the breeze. We sailed along the coast all afternoon, and it felt like we had known each other forever. While saying our goodbyes, I wanted to be sure, so I looked at her and asked "So... Aeribella?" "Captain" she replied, nodding slightly. I still can't believe I got to meet her. She said I could post these, but I won't tag her cause she's against the whole social media thing and prefers to remain the stuff of legends. Maybe I'll see her again someday, and she'll tell me how she's been alive for so long. Regardless, her music, ambition, carefree spirit, and sense of adventure will forever inspire me. So, I made some stuff up for my music history paper and got a B-.
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melis-ash · 3 months
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Jessica Parker Kennedy in Under the Christmas Sky (2023)
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neosatsuma · 2 years
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normal things to say to someone. normal.
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fagflint · 2 years
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im going to throw up
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