Top Posts Tagged with #bsmiranda

“And I still believe in the good And I still believe in the light And I wanna feel the sun I wanna free you tonight...” --- “Into The Light”, In This Moment.

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H A L G A T E S [Quartermaster of the Walrus, briefly captain of the Ranger] : murdered by James Flint for the quest for the Urca of Lima.

M I R A N D A B A R L O W [lover and friend of James Flint] : murdered by the henchman of Peter Ashe in an attempt to reconcile with civilization.

M R. S C O T T [right-hand man of Richard then of Eleanor Guthrie, quartermaster of the crew of Benjamin Hornigold then of James Flint, king of Maroon Island] : succumbed to wounds caused by English soldier while trying to help slaves to escape.

C H A R L E S V A N E [Captain of the Ranger, then of the Fancy, steward of the fort] : hanged on the orders of Eleanor Guthrie after she joined civilization, he could nevertheless have been saved but chosen to sacrifice himself to push Nassau to rebel against the English.

E D W A R D T E A C H [aka Blackbeard, captain of the Revenge, then of the Nassau fleet, one of the founders of the Pirate Republic] : murdered by Woodes Rogers after being tortured.

E L E A N O R G U T H R I E [former smuggler and leader of Nassau, called Queen of Thieves] : murdered by a Spanish soldier from a raid sent by her husband Woodes Rogers.

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#blacksailsedit #bsedit #miranda hamilton #miranda barlow #bsmiranda #black sails #**

The time for conciliation is well past. I must try. Why? I'm the only one who can stop him, pastor. I'm the only one who knows why he's doing it.

#black sails #blacksailsedit #miranda barlow #thomas hamilton #bsmiranda #bsthomas #2 05 #mine

Nassau leading ladies + names

#blacksailsedit #bsedit #perioddramaedit #bsmadi #bseleanor #bsmax #bsmiranda #miranda barlow #miranda hamilton #eleanor guthrie #my edits #black sails #for you anon who wanted some bs ladies names #i had to guess for madi bc i did not find any resources on her name in african cultures #and i had to also guess for max #and i thought that maxima suited her well #i hpe that's fine #also sorry abt the coloring of this thing

So Messy Hair started to watch Black Sails and, as he gets to experience all the wonder for the first time ever, I get my own private wonder of experiencing it all again. And I’ve got many thoughts, but the most urgent and pressing are -

1. To watch S1Max is both a suffering and a miracle. Suffering because, well, she goes through hell and we know it. Why a miracle, then? Well - in those first scenes with Eleanor, she’s so defenceless; so small. Hints of cunning and brilliance are already all over the place, of course, but the sense I get from her at the beginning is that she’s content enough with how far away she’s got from the slavery of her childhood, and that she would be more than content with her whole world starting and ending in Eleanor’s arms. She’ll tell us about it, won’t she? How mesmerised she was by Eleanor in the beginning. Now, let’s top that with how much in love she was with her, and the modesty of her early ambitions starts to make sense all of a sudden. Then - then she gets broken, quite simply. And after that, she will mend herself anew, with her own hands, and from that destruction she will build ambitions. Max’s growth and rise to power are among my favourite things in BS, and to watch her beginnings with knowing eyes is amazing.

2. As a corollary to point one: to watch S1Eleanor knowing what’s to come, to the contrary, is a fucking nightmare.

3. S1Miranda. Oh, Miranda of my heart. Watching it all again, I remembered how fooled I was by appearances when I first watched S1; how similar to the Londoners and the villagers and the pirates I was when confronted with Miranda. I remember watching her reading Marcus Aurelius to that arsehole of a Guthrie man, watching her flirting with that asinine coward of a pastor, and I remember feeling both irritated and puzzled. Irritated, because I came to her while thinking about Flint; he would be displeased to see her like that, I must have thought - or was it even a thought? More of an automatism: she shouldn’t have been giving all of this attention to these unworthy men. As for puzzled - the first of those men was hideous; the second, an hypocrite. And she seemed to know. Why on earth, then, would she care to spend those many seconds of her life with them? And now I think -

because she was starved. She had literally no-one on that whole island; no-one to talk to, no-one to laugh with, no-one to touch. No-one, that is, but for the raging, hollow shell of a man she once loved, a raging shell of a man who’s almost always away, who’s unreachable at best when he’s there, and whose memory will always be tied up to that of the man they both loved and lost. Miranda, brilliant mind extraordinaire, was left on an island with nothing to keep her mind on but a clavicembalo, a few books, and the burning memories of all she had lost, and then two educated if hideous men pass by and she can’t even quote scripture at them, nor read one of her favourite books to them, without a casual viewer like me - without a Londoner, a villager, a pirate - judging her all over again, crucifying her with labels, trying to crush her with shame. To that she is impermeable; to shame she will not bend. This doesn’t mean, thought, that she does not suffer; for that she fucking does. And I didn’t see that then. But oh boy, do I see that now.