#paintedsins

( @paintedsins​ )

the hopelessness of snow’s words pains him but he doesn’t have it in him to refute them. a few weeks ago perhaps he would’ve; he would’ve tried to stay away from the bitterness that life’s made him prone to feeling, he would’ve tried to prove that there’s more to life than simply being a step closer to dying with each day passing; that they don’t just believe, but they are. alive. 

but how can he, when they’re surrounded by death? maybe there used to be more to life, before they succumbed to cold, before they started seeing faces in the shadows, before the strangers with unbelievable stories came, before a dead body made them question what they know. it’s all fear now; broken and aimless, that they are. the question should be, how do they escape it, though the purser feels too scared, too weak to even ask that. he’s afraid that he won’t like the answer. no escape.

his eyelids flutter, trying to blink the sleep away. if he falls asleep, he’ll see things he won’t be able to forget. he’s not feeling strong enough for that, not tonight. 

Who would you most like to make love to?

cyrus. no, i wil not explain.

Who would you most like to send to jail?

snow. if anyone’s committed a crime, they think, it’d be him.

Who would you most like to get stuck in the rain with?

august. it would probably, hopefully, turn into something memorable and half-enjoyable in the process.

jules was truly determined to be on her best behavior at the carnivale. she entered the evening with the intent; she repeated it several times to herself. ( this was a good idea. this was good for the crew. ) she’d be the one watching to make sure everyone stayed out of trouble. it was her role. yet that was the jules before finishing her fourth drink of the evening, and four drink jules was --- less than concerned about keeping her promise. intent, as she knew, rarely amounted to much. 

creeping closer to their departure, one issue loomed large for her: the clairvoyant. tempting fate when they were already tempting fate? it was a horrifying possibility, and so she made her way to the clairvoyant’s tent. she couldn’t simply... not do anything about it. she stumbled inside, squinting as she tried to adjust to the sudden swallow of darkness. 

to call upon spirits onboard would be to bring death directly to them. she could not allow this --- not for this expedition, not for this crew. 

“you --- ” choose an insult she had used to describe the clairvoyant that evening alone: fool, heretic, omen, fork-tongued. she settled on none of them, clinging, however loosely, to her understanding that she was quartermaster. she could not insult their guests directly to them. “you’re not going to be doing this on the ship, are you?” 

                                  ( modern au ) ::: accepting.

5. top five favourite things not available in their canon verse.

actual long-term scholarships/student loans, food banks, gender nonconformism, anti-elitism/popularization of knowledge, lube.

8. describe their closet.

[ SENT TO --> those buzzfeed blokes want what he has 😱  ]

as 1/2 of my best friends, and the person in your relationship most likely to be in possession of the brain cell for the moment, i need your opinion

FIRST, would it help or hurt august’s campaign if i did the ESPN body issue with a football in front of my dick ? 

SECOND, jon’s mom will definitely have a coronary and try to set him up with that primary school teacher she knows again even though i told her i have a bloody RING, but how LARGE do you think the coronary would be? 

....

augustus is by no means a superstitious man. ghosts, demons, otherworldly paranormal forces—it isn’t a question of credulity or belief but the gnawing undercurrent of doubt. who is to say that a spectre isn’t real simply because it isn’t intangible? how you can disprove something that cannot be seen, touched, or heard? it takes blind faith to believe in the existence in god; surely a being with only a hair of the almighty’s power warrants more than a moment of indecision.

his inability to exist wholly at rest heightens with apprehension. he fidgets anxiously at everything and anything within reach: running a hand through what he can reach of his hair undisturbed, sipping at his half-full drink, worrying at the edge of the tablecloth, taking another sip only to realise he hasn’t swallowed the last one. his eyes flicker to the medium and then abruptly flicker away, fixating upon the items laid out on his table as if they’ll reveal the answers to all his unspoken questions. if one didn’t know any better, they might mistake the symptoms of uneasiness for fear. 

augustus sutherland is never afraid. augustus sutherland does not even know fear. he’s certainly not afraid of some heretofore apparition yet to manifest as real. 

“so, uh, how do we begin?”  he purses his lips with a twitch, eyes wide and distinctly enraptured in spite of the nerves.  “i’ve never...”  here, his voice decrescendos into a hush, as if speaking the very words aloud might give them undue power before they’ve even begin.  “— i’ve never summoned a ghost before.”

Send me ?? for a strange/vague text

[text to: Lei Ruyi]: i gave you my number for emergencies and really important things, you know [text to: Lei Ruyi]: not for you to advertise your side gig when you’re bored [text to: Lei Ruyi]: no, I didn’t watch anything, if you need to know

Send me ↕ for a scared/worried text

☺ for a loving/affectionate text

[ text to: Lei Ruyi]: the amount of shit I need to get off my chest is enough for an entire night so tell me when you’re free and can spare some time [ text to: Lei Ruyi]: a lot of time. And I really mean it [ text to: Lei Ruyi]: right now you’re up there when it comes to my favorite people in the world so you can be proud of yourself and the fact that you’re my go-to

♣ for a drunk text