Part of this was just me wanting a bit of an extra challenge as an art project to take my mind of things, part of it was digging through my bottomless reference folder for something completely different and getting stuck with an idea about Flint and his horse? And, really, the need for small comforts, I guess.
Anyway. I like the idea of him being secretly fond of that horse, of giving it some ridiculous name that nobody would get but Thomas (although Miranda probably does, and just pretends she doesnât). And of him taking comfort in the warmth and solid presence of a creature that he can allow himself to be gentle with, when there is no reason or need to be harsh or cruel. Itâs a simple comfort, and one I can see him craving when he has so little comfort left.
on the topic of black sails let it be known I think the classic "oh the potc cast wouldn't survive a day in black sails" bit is so funny because like yeah absolutely but like do you reckon the fine homosexuals from black sails would do all that hot in potc like girl there's curses
this isn't even to knock their talents and intelligence btw like I think it'd be extremely reasonable if you were say captain flint and you were a reasonable homosexual a clever cookie and you heard someone say "hey did you hear there's a ship with black sails that's crewed by the damned and captained by a man so evil that hell itself spat him back out did you hear about this" you'd reasonably go "fake+L+ratio" and then you'd go and get your shit absolutely rocked by captain barbossa and the bone people now this is NOT because you're not a reasonable homosexual and a clever cookie this is because bone people should by all means not exist but unfortunately you're from black sails on starz and you've been thrown into disney's pirates of the caribbean. where there's bone people
That moment when Lord Hamilton shows up at Lieutenant McGrawâs lodgings, unannounced and way too early. (And promptly has a heart attack.)
Inspired by fic. Possibly more than one, but definitely âGreen-eyed Monsterâ by Parodoxy
The best thing about getting into a new fandom is when youâve finished that show/movie/book and you open Ao3, and there is⌠â¨treasureâ¨. And thereâs so much treasure in this fandom! (THANK YOU, dear authors!) One thing Iâve become obsessed with, is the idea of Thomas catching James at his lodgings shirtless and with his hair down. Or, really, any fic that has Thomas delight in Jamesâ long hair or being unable to stay away from Jamesâ humble abode. So if you have written something like this, this is for you! Or really, if you enjoy it as much as I do, this is for you. But, to be perfectly clear, itâs also very, very self-indulgent.đ
So after binging the whole four seasons of Black Sails last month, Iâm now on a more leisurely rewatch⌠or so I thought.
But god everything hits so much worse or better or harder knowing about Flintâs past and motivation now. And then this scene came up, and Iâm just⌠fuuuuuck. Crying, screaming, throwing up. Iâm not okay. This is devastating. (Did I mention I cope with art?)
On my first watch, Flint killing Gates truly shocked me. He would really kill his friend just because he wouldnât go along with his plans? To not have to give up on the Urca? Sure, Gates is going against his command. Itâs mutiny, but Gates seems to be trying, and he sounds so bloody reasonable. And more importantly, heâs been a loyal friend up until now. A fatherly friend (I want to throw up). And even now heâs⌠trying to protect Flint, right? (Fuck. Seriously. Feeling ill.)
But yeah, I was shocked. And as he whispered broken apologies to the friend he just murdered, I wondered⌠could I forgive him for this?
And nowâŚomg now itâs like watching a completely different train wreck happening, and it all makes perfect, tragic, horrible sense. The way the whole scene mirrors James McGrawâs futile attempt to convince Hennessy of their Hail Mary plan to save Nassau. Every step. The urgency when things have already gone sideways, but James refuses to give up, because it can still work. People just have to listen. Let him explain. Have a little faith. Back then he trusted Hennessy, and now he still trusts Gates. He trusts them to understand, asking them to believe in him. He doesnât see it coming. (How does he not see it coming this time?)
And then the moment the floor is ripped out from under him. And itâs all there, on Flintâs face, in the moment when Gates says âThey know.â Itâs not the mutiny. Itâs the betrayal. The way Flintâs face falls, and for a moment he looks just like James McGraw in Hennessyâs office. The same devastation and disbelief when he asks âYou told them?â And of course for him it is the same betrayal. It is the same fight, to prove Thomas right. To stand against those who took him and everything else away from James.
And Gates, that poor bastard, doesnât even understand what sin he is committing. He doesnât even see it as mutiny. He sees it as doing the right thing, containing a madman. (OmgggâŚ) And then there is Flint, reliving the worst moments of his life. And that point it doesnât feel like itâs about the Urca anymore. Itâs an emotional massacre, to which Gates seems completely oblivious. When Flint asks if he will see him get hanged, only to be promised an opportunity to flee for him and âMrs Barlowâ, Gates thinks he is doing him a kindness. Like Hennessy probably thought he was doing him a kindness, saving him from the gallows. Itâs all right. Flint just has to leave, vanish and never be heard of again. He should be grateful. And the way Flintâs eyes close briefly in disbelief that this is happening. Again. The way he pleads with Gates, just like he pleaded with Hennessy. So unlike Flint. But once more he is told that his actions are unforgivable. Simply too much. Heâs not just rejected, but he is abandoned. He is cast out for who he is and his supposed sins. A monster that canât be allowed to exist amongst the rest of them.
The whole scene is executed so brilliantly, the way he fluctuates between Jamesâ almost innocent appeals to be understood and Flintâs anger at being denied. But he keeps trying until the last moment. And then, when he acts, itâs not a calculated move. Itâs pure desperation, the only purpose to do something, to stop what is happening. Because James McGraw didnât. But where James McGraw hesitated, where he maybe still hoped, still didnât comprehend, and where he still thought he had something to lose⌠Flint doesnât. And yet we can see it break him. We can see how it breaks another part of his soul.Â
(And of course it will happen again. Screaming. Crying. Throwing up.)
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