X3 ~ Deathly Design
Reference ~ Unfortunate Future ~ ♪"Unbroken"♪
Upon a dry-desolate land field of sands. A destroyed-convoy caravan left a smoke-signal upon the skies torched. Scattered around could only be explained as a massacre.
Ruins, mangled, battered, broken cadavers of crimson-wearers.
Said their red-they famously wore represented the blood they sacrificed or had spilled. Trying to play honor among fellows. Putrid, disgusting… When did it happen?
When did pirates become a bunch of soft-heart; little bitches? Care about others outside their Crews.
Facade, another lie. Maelstrom sells others' beliefs; they're what Rules the Seas. Taking over-every route. Policing and enforcing marine-law. Creating a hub that’s only known-remaining.
How many Beast Tribes, they chase out of their territories? How many walls were made against nature? How many-times, they had to get on their knees, and got bailed out by a Warrior who had no reason to be involved. Calling themselves pirates, poor imitations. Only vigil remaining of pirates were the ones who were chased out, those who had semblance of identity, voices too distinguished, still-carry.
Embers were being snuffed out, their crews, desires of freedom, stomped out prematurely, eaten and spit down their throat, and then told to say, thank-you. Those-who governed with invincible numbers and that fleet, was all they had.
Revenge consumed one man. Who carried the burden, weight, of his dying breed of people, a self-inflicted-martyr.
Pressure, twists like a knife, darkens a soul. Shouldering the responsibility of bygone-eras.
He once reigned with gallantry.
Individual-rogue was dead. Wishful thinking to hope this was a cruel-dystopian-joke, future’s roots finally known.
Good-riddance. This manipulated realm would rejoice their thanks in time, they’d acknowledge and revere him. While he conquered them all for their benefits, because no-one else was capable.
All those left skewed, left to the afterlife, to be absorbed into the soils and amount to actually something, and attained freedom. If they-were actual pirates. He’ll be waiting for their appreciation in the Seven Hells, expectantly.
Bloodstain leather-studded boots walked away from the scene. Mantled-cloaked, holding himself like some prestigious, acclaimed pirate-king, dreadful-aura surrounded him.
Behind a land-slide rock, sweat profusely leaked from a leg-shaken Maelstrom; yuck a survivor. Cowardice behavior showing their genuine-hide, self-preservation. Unfortunately this poor-sod, encountered this individual-once. Newly pure-destructiveness wasn’t seen before. His eyes-bulged, tears ruined his face, from a snot weeping nose.
Hurt people,
Hurt people.
All you must know.
Those blonde brows-angered together, his fellows with their entrails what-was-left of them, was upon his clothes. Looks like they got some-richer texture on their coat. Revenge was infectious like a poison-droplet; it could taint a whole barrel.
That scoundrel… N-No-monster had to be stopped! This wasn’t the first-instance. Random locations of Maelstrom being deployed supposed to deliver or pick-up rations or goods, were being chosen, tactically. Small-ports, barely guarded, were being butchered, harvested.
Malice did this for sport. Bilge-water rats squeaking pests amongst his lion den.
Take away duty and employment expected from trade-deals. You risk clients and employers-ire, you create severe rifts. Costing a whole City-State ton not just gil, but reputation. He couldn’t oppose them directly in the open-waters. He could drain them of resources, create panics. Make a civilization of needy-greedy denizens start growing irate. Maybe put some teeth-back in their maws.
A rifle was aimed shaken but nerves fought until steeled thinking of his kindred.
The-kid had one-shot.
Think a Miqo’te with trained senses didn’t hear, smell, that filth in that-rubble? He swung-back preemptively and the bullet-clanked against a plated-bracer worn on his wrists. Deflecting and taking rotation, golden-eyes-staring into the soul.
Foul presence of dominance. Unbridled walking akin to tyrannical bosses.
He owned this world and fucked it,
You-forget how small it was?
We trampled on it instinctively after-all,
Our true-purpose.
Amusement came, a smile, and shake of his head. “Want ta’ die, boy? I’ll get you t’ live-eternally.” Voice carried bass. Authority, sheer-certainty.
For he alone,
Him alone is believed, Necessary.
“Good-jewelry can b’ made. Think, I’ll cut yer toes, fingers off and wear em’ as a bone brooch. I’ll gouge-an eye, feast upon it while your other is left t’ witness. I’ll keep you breathing-barely functioning until I choose. To give ye freedom. We’ll see, if you’ve got in-fact a spine and strangle-it around that pretty-neck like a noose. Like you hang my condemened people, every’ Sun' while getting fancy promotions and bein' publicly applauded.” Verbal painting ran through the mind of his opposition, on-a-wrong side of misfortune-law, visualizing, he felt his entire-being on a different plane altogether, happened.
Blackbeard took the slowest-stride, heavy-stepping on soils.
The lad-of-red was devoured long ago, by fear. Piss soiled his pants, until hysteria roared out and screamed, horror.
“W-w-why us! Why us?!” He needed to reload his rifle. Couldn't find-strength like his digits-were already gone. This pirate’s-dreadful Presence, was… unfathomable wicked.
Playful-remorse showed on the Seeker. “Mommy-send you out here to die? Cruel of her yet not unexpected. Wanna-know why? Cause I can.” Speaking of the ill Admiral Merlwyb, nobody remained holding balls left to stand against her. She collected them in her purse. A purest savagery reason, a Scourge no-doubt about it had become the very-thing he once, paraded around-to-exterminate. A chilling-grin forebode on that visage.
Pirate-stopped in his tracks letting-confusion and relief travel in his victim. An-attack was already made. Living-animated chains from his sheathed scimitar’s hilt had conceal, snaking around his leg burrowing in the sands.
Creeping until jailing his prey to his shackled-fate.
“Play pirate. Get th’ real-deal’s attention. I’ll b’ nice… Unlike you all-did with courtesy, bringing the severed-head of my wife, sayin’ ye found her. Maybe, I’ll do that with you. Leave you as a parting-gift on the Admiral’s desk, Starlight is comin’ around th’ corner. Get a little-sweet on her.” Vengeance, irrational-rage, vile revenge had finally-claimed the-once heroic pirate to act on bottled-past.
“I-I-I Didn’t do that terrible act, I swear!” He proclaimed trying to run away, his feet-entangled, chain already taking his ankle, tripping up on his own feeble-true design finally shown. Those little-badges worn, ranks, they only account so far. Then when you’re left without numbers, bodies, you’re nothing more than another’s, kill count.
Tsking, disappointing from his pursing-lips. “O’ poor-lost-soul so unguided, I’ll ferry ye’ home... You wear that-crest. Collective-n-crew, a walking ship, ye-live like a hivemind donning your crimson uniforms. Wanna carry the-others blood so badly, fine. I’ll paint that symbol. There’s a sea-that-finally swallows ye’ all.” There was no-deterring this mindset. Black-clad Captain, was overwhelmingly taken by murder on the mind. Had become-his-recent favorite vice.
The victimized-man crawled trying to scurry but the predator enacted haste for execution. As he neared-closer, in the clouds-roaring a draconian-cry shrieked. Snowflakes descend below-staining, unimpressive in Blackguard’s dismay.
Newly brandished, foiled Noble Hero, of the historical past had come to save days.
Opposing forces from several-fates yet again, staring to beholden gaze.
Piercing Blues to Unyielding Golds.
A shining-pillar white knight, once thought dead, had resurrected with redeeming qualities and elegance, pristine. Once former being a spitting-image of Captain. Now they’ve flipped, again.
Would’ve and should’ve stayed that dead, a pirate’s desire remained. A cold-unforgiving scowl gave rise to this incomplete-world, a Blackest Sun heralding as a Champion. Wasn’t going to forgive this transgression ruining spoils.
Meet The Sworn.
Ft. @lordshiroelune
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the visuals for the last like 20 minutes of atsv are my favorite things ever
specifically: the color theory
earth-42 is obviously striking on a whole nother level
we tend to automatically think of red as the color of danger, but that's loud and passionate and angry. this haunting, sickening green feels more conniving and threatening and apocalyptic.
(if you think of color in disney movies, all the scariest, most cunning villains--maleficent, scar, ursula, evil queen, facilier, gothel--have either palettes or grand moments or motifs heavily utilizing green)
and something i always notice is that rio 42 looks just a little off, and it's because they reflect so much green in her eyes they look almost entirely green
and, if this is your first time watching, you have no idea why the environment is made to be so deeply unsettling. let's look at gwen's dimension for a sec
being home is a really bad thing to gwen. while miles was doing everything he could to get home, gwen was literally dragged there--because gwen views her dimension as unsafe (ignore the trans parallels ignore the trans parallels ingore the tra
it's dark. it has the same ominous rain. but you can tell it's 65. that bisexual lighting is unmistakable
i can't even go into the colors of gwen and george's argument because there is an image limit and i am lazy. but we know it's insane. the emotional peak of the scene is also where we see the colors most vibrant and changing the most abruptly
and when they have their beautiful lil moment, this is what happens
not only is it blindingly bright and trans colored all of a sudden, but the characters don their "true" coloring
and even after gwen leaves, the scene is still bright, and familiar
miles should be safe in his dimension. but we know he's not.
back to earth-42. well i mean we have these absolute visual bangers what do i need to say u get it
and then there's this absolutely incredible moment where i would say miles is at his emotional peak (manic peak as well; i mean spot's hands and the infamous revenge line...yoikes.) and just like with gwen, the emotional high is where we see the most dynamic colors so coincidence i think not
this next sequence is just one of the coolest fuckin chase-esq scenes i've ever seen. like the mumbattan one slapped but the pacing and direction and elements and epicness together here are just immaculate
another thing--miguel/ben's post is heavily shrouded in red. he's supposed to be ominously looming over exactly where miles is headed. buttttttttt~ when miles first crash lands, there is quite a bit of red, and as he gets closer to home, the city gets bluer and bluer with less and less red, bc yk he's not actually headed towards miguel/ben. woah. i make sense guys. i am a fart smella. i mean smart smella. i mean fart fella. i mean fart smella. i mea
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