#forbroadside

[ghostlyhunterarchived]

Was talking with @forbroadside and then this happened. Salazar and Hector things. 

[theswannking]

thread with @forbroadside | continued from here

How dare you.

She was only saying what they both understood already, he had no right to spew acidic words at her like she had taken him by surprise. She didn’t regret it - no, not quite. But there was an almost clinical detachment to her memories of the night before.

Since being roused from her bed by a ragtag bunch of filthy pirates, Elizabeth had been living a crash course on them. She’d grown so far from the freckled, over-curious young miss who had made no efforts to hide her fascination with pirates, to become one herself. No, that, she wasn’t ashamed of. She could protect Will’s heart with more than sharp words now, and that was certainly nothing to hide away.

Barbossa had, on that journey in her past, been one in a string of several pirate role models - honestly, the one most in line with her old mental image of noble thieves. It had seemed a natural progression to her, as much as she didn’t want to acknowledge that the previous night had been more about exploration than passion for her. Loath as she might be to admit it, she knew she could trust him to keep a secret, and so he had seemed an ideal candidate for instruction.

That he was no speaking in that silky, dangerous voice was nothing short of chilling - and that was dismissing any effect of the words themselves. She was far too practiced to let him see that his words had actually stung, but her eyes blazed in his direction. “I’d thank you not to put words in my mouth,” she snapped. Of course neither of them had gone to sleep expecting the other to wake up and write a sonnet about the night before, but how could he fault her for confirming it?

[par-the-raider]

MUSE AESTHETICS: HORROR EDITION.

BOLD WHATEVER APPLIES & tag people. add stuff & even change the format to your liking! naturally, repost; don’t reblog!

TAGGED BY @forbroadside TAGGING @searchingforanewpurpose @iinxsearchofxisolde @nopathunexplored @gxnnut and anyone else that wants to.

CLASSIC.

black and white. powder puffs. red lipstick. winged eyeliner. white kitten heels. black lace lingerie. icy blue eyes. rain. abandoned cars. skeletons. acid. poison. voyeurism. switchblades. strangling. overcoats. looking over your shoulder. trans-atlantic accents. private detectives. dinner parties. haunted mansions. cobwebs. perfect blonde curls. kitchen knives. shock. cellars. dust. ghosts. dark alleys. empty streets. horn-rimmed glasses. radiation. zombies. serial murder. suspicion. paranoia. the city. witches. the devil. cannibalism. conspiracies. amulets. abject terror. the American South. the American Northeast. England. analog cameras.

CRYPTID & URBAN LEGEND.

aliens. blinding light. dark woods. driving at night. claw marks. bite marks. men in black. memory loss. dismembered bodies. sewers. flashlights. cell phones. video cameras. cars with tinted windows. unlabeled cassette tapes. bugs. big cities. urban crimes. clowns. something rustling outside your window. glowing light. unsolved mysteries. suburbia. mirrors. the american pacific northwest. the american midwest. hiking. backpacking.

GOTHIC.

gaslights. corsets. ballrooms. candlelight. mist. starless nights. full moons. cobbled streets. horse-drawn carriages. mysterious strangers. bogs. moors. forests. mountains. castles. velvet. silver. brass. gold. jewels. domino masks. the opera. dangerous romances. tragic romances. violins. roses. lilies. empty graves. crosses. cemeteries. snow. ice. the gallows. crows. milk-white skin. ambiguous illness. fangs. pointed nails. something howling in the night. capes. gloves. top hats. straight razors. lightning. pipe organs. underground caverns. bats. mice. rats. ravens. cats. pearls. attics. talismans. axes. wood. isolation in a room full of people. vampires. werewolves. ghosts. coffins. western europe. eastern europe. bones. churches. catacombs. mausoleums. books.

PARANORMAL.

malevolent spirits. seances. spells. missing bodies. hidden graves. white noise. static. flickering lights. rings of salt. demons. poltergeists. dark histories. old buildings. cold air. wells. urban exploration. a dog barking at unseen things. iconoclasm. black ooze. old photographs. dark bodies of water. crucifixes. priests. possession. exorcisms. dolls.

SLASHER.

bloodbaths. massacres. wanton nudity. newspapers. leather jackets. letterman jackets. converse sneakers. obscured faces. social unrest. bonfires. lakes. babysitters. high school. lockers. dead leaves in the fall. jack-o’-lanterns. passing shadows. outdated television sets. nightmares. psychiatrists. hospitals. unstoppable forces. gunfire. police. landline telephones. improvised weapons. halloween. secrets. revelations. cut wires. character masks. scrunchies. wild curls. jeering children. parties. fire. swearing. revulsion. california. the american midwest. ambulances.

THRILLER.

daylight. fluorescent lighting. morgues. unwavering eye contact. tension. lit rooms empty rooms. killer in plain sight. a dog digging in the newly-planted flower bed. steely gazes. paperwork. anagrams. codes. convicted killers. missing persons. law enforcement. federal agents. small towns. suspicion. paranoia. subdued terror. dimly-lit parking lots. a noise in the distance

[snowingwillow-blog]

I’m seriously beginning to believe...

That @forbroadside , @roipirate , @conquistadoradelmar , and all the rest of you ungodly heathens have traded or turned in your Pieces of Eight as Pirate Lords...

And become Crack Lords.

Sin Lords too, for good measure.

[moonlitmyth-archive]

continued from here | @forbroadside

It mews again, and it’s mostly an unconscious thing, when he reaches down and scratches behind its ears with a finger.  “As though Jack ain’t enough of a handful to begin with.  Or are you planning on keeping yourself a bar cat.”  It wouldn’t be completely unheard of of.   Besides, what he’s supposed to do with this fuzzy bag of bones and teeth - which have now latched onto the finger he’d offered as an olive branch of truce with - to begin with?  Kittens don’t make good ship cats until they’re a big older.

“Which one, the human, or the monkey?” It’s hard to tell by the look on her face or the tone of her voice if she’s serious. “Come on, look how cute, though,” she cajoles, nodding down to the ball of fluff. This little kitten is the only one left of a litter born to her calico, Lyra, and she wants to make sure it goes to a good home. Everyone knows Hector Barbossa is soft on animals, so she thinks, maybe…

“He’ll grow up fast,” she says. “And his mother’s never let a rat in here for more than five minutes, so he’s got good instincts.”

[snowing-willow-archived]

Okay, so, I’m going to throw this at @forbroadside, because I’ve always been seriously into this headcannon and if I could get any kind of muse for Elizabeth I totally would want a thread of this...

Like... We know that Elizabeth was to be Barbossa’s bride from the first movie, or he wanted her to be. Hell, Geoffrey Rush said he liked the idea of her being his bride, he was also all over this story line.

But I’ve always loved the future of it too, where Elizabeth thinks she’s a widow (probably told no one, especially not Will), but she’s proven not to be by the end of Dead Man’s Chest... That leads to At World’s End. There are so many Elizabeth x Barbossa scenes, things where she plucks his words from him, and clearly finds strength from things he’s done/said.

But I love it when he draws it from her instead, like the scene where she says ‘Hoist the Colors’, where she takes “by the strength of our backs”, and he looks at her so shocked, confused, and like she’s the sea goddess. Just - UGH. But I wanted more of that, those glimmering moments, because imagine if they were still married.

How would she confront him about basically handing her over to Sao Feng? She’d probably be pissed, but I have a feeling Barbossa would tell her exactly what he believed: She could do it. He had faith in her strength all along, something Will never got I think. Will knew Elizabeth was feisty and brave, certainly, but I don’t think he understood quite how much she’d grown. What she was truly capable of, I doubt she even knew, but Barbossa did.

And the maelstrom battle? Imagine if that had been their wedding, like, Elizabeth meant it when she said “Barbossa”, and he’s just: “??? WHAT?? WOMAN?? NOW?? We’RE ALREAdy maRRIed, we don’t need another fucking - Oh FINE THEN!” And they have their second marriage, a proper one, on the deck of the Black Pearl as they’re nearly torn to shreds by an immortal crew, dead set on sending them to the locker. But not by Jack. Gibbs would do. Barbossa refuses to have Jack have anything to do with any marriage he might have. Jack can be the best man that fails to show up with the rings even after all the dust has settled.

[pearlsparable-archive]

[ continued with @forbroadside from here ]

Despite whatever their reputations may say otherwise, the two captains of the Black Pearl were very much human. This Jack Sparrow can attest. After all, it had been problematic when Hector Barbossa had been under the curse that made him decidedly inhuman. But all curses had counters, and while it had taken some doing, Jack had managed to break it and prove just how human Hector was. By killing him. It was not a reminder that Jack wanted, nor one that he needed. Especially not in the middle of battle, when he has a good number of other things to worry about.

Everything's slower in battle, but also exponentially faster. It's a paradox that perfectly incapsulates Jack's mindset as he watches Hector fall hard onto the deck of the Pearl. Jack waits a moment for him to sit up, to bite out a curse and struggle to his feet whereupon Jack will make a well-placed comment that will bring forth an eyeroll but little else. But none of those things happen. Because Hector doesn't sit up. He stays down. There's a beat, where Jack considers a lot of things very quickly. And what he comes up with is this: If he spends any more time deliberating Hector's current situation, the crew is going to get concerned. And a worried and uncertain crew will not prevail in battle. And so Jack turns his mind to the fight. And so it is just Jack's voice that is barking out orders instead of Jack-and-Hector's. It doesn't take long for them to turn the tides. As it is, Jack Sparrow being on the losing side of battle is a force to be reckoned with. But a Jack Sparrow who suddenly finds himself Captain instead of Co-Captain, is deadly. The last canon is just being fired as Jack begins to make his way towards Hector. He waves a hand at Gibbs, motioning him towards the crew. Usually it's Jack's job, him and Hector both, who look after the crew, take care of the wounded, deal with the dead. It doesn't matter how wounded they are, because crew always comes first. He's not going against the letter of the thing, he rationalizes. After all, Hector might not be crew, as such, but he is crew. Hector's eyes are open as Jack reaches him, and that's enough to send something akin to relief through him. "There you are, mate," he comments, lightly. "Missed the whole bloody battle, you did." Hector's eyes focus on him, and that's all it takes for Jack to get to work. "Don't move," he commands, firm but calm, pushing a hand on his chest so he won't try anyways. It was a piece of debris that hit Hector, hard enough to knock him over and deep enough to knock him out. It won't be an easy removal, and Jack's sure it's going to hurt like a bitch. But it shouldn't be enough to kill Hector, or else Jack will have destroyed the attacking ship too fucking quickly. But of course, Hector Goddamn Barbossa disregards his words entirely, ineffectively pushing at the arm Jack's using to hold him down. The crew he insists, and Jack knows the first words out of his own mouth would be about the crew if their positions were reversed, and Jack isn't enough of a cold-hearted bastard to deny him that. "Oi, stop that," he swats at Hector's hand. "I said don't move. Crew's fine," and his words are reassuring even if he's not exactly sure how much of a lie it is. But Gibbs is the one person beyond Hector and himself that Jack trusts to look after the crew, so he doesn't feel too bad about the lie. It's not too long after that Hector begins to fade out. The splinter is doing a good job of keeping the wound sealed, so beyond wrapping a cloth around it, all Jack has to do is keep Hector awake until the surgeon can be summoned. "Oi," he calls, snapping his fingers in front of Hector's face. "Oi. Hector," his voice gets less calm and slightly more frantic when Hector's eyes don't open . He doesn't want to shake Hector for fear of what the motion would do to the splinter, so Jack slaps at his face instead. When it doesn't work right away Jack cusses. "Mate, I swear, if you don't open your eyes right fucking now, I will go to the Locker and bring you back only to send you there myself." He slaps Hector a few more times before Hector's eyes finally open. Jack's shoulders slump, slightly, as Hector's eyes refocus on him, even as Jack gives him a Look. "Keep your eyes open, mate," and it's a mixture of tones between the one Jack gives orders in and his Calm Captain voice. Hector doesn't say anything after that, which is a lot more concerning that Jack will admit. But despite that, there's a underlying hardness in his eyes. But Jack's not using that tone for Hector. It's for the crew. Only those on deck saw Hector go down, but word has undoubtedly spread by now. If even one member of the crew hears Jack with the wrong tone or giving it to Hector straight or giving any indication at all that Hector will be anything less than alright, then the crew's morale will plummet. Hector might have always been human, but he's always seemed as solid as a brick wall. It wouldn't do to let the crew think he could go down as easily as everyone else. At least, not if Jack could help it. "Don't fall asleep."

[thescourgeofpiracy]

“Letters of marque.” James lifted the dossier and offered it to the pirate, lifting an eyebrow. “Let it never be said that I don’t keep my promises.” Of course, he was only able to fulfill said promise because his gamble had succeeded. It had been a calculated risk, but a risk nonetheless, and in truth, he had no idea if he would have to endure a court martial and be hanged as a traitor for his actions, but he had managed to convince enough sailors and marines to follow him that he would have some form of insurance to mitigate the risk. It turned out that his mutiny, for there was no other word for it, ended up being a success, and to his surprise, the Admiralty praised him for it. It seemed that Beckett was usurping their authority, and they did not take well to a nobleman with no real military experience taking over the sword of the Empire.

He had been given the offer of whatever home port he wanted, and he picked Port Royal, without a second thought. There was no way he would return to England, to his family, after all that had happened. His father, who had been refusing to speak to him for the past two years, would not be the first to reach out an olive branch, and neither was he. They were alike only in that they were both unyielding.

The letters had been easy enough to procure, since, as he had put it to his superiors—he had received aid from ‘privateers’. He was certain he would have scoffed at the notion of associating Hector Barbossa or Jack Sparrow with anything but the vilest of buccaneers just a few years ago, but his perception had changed. He had changed. “I suppose that settles our account, captain. I won’t ask you to make my job easier.” he added wryly.

@forbroadside liked for a starter