[He's awake when the world turns dark, when the flickering candle he was using for light suddenly snuffs out as if a cold breeze had blown over it, and at once does Noah get the feeling that something is very, very wrong. His pencil stops scrawling across the page, all sound coming to a screeching halt as it normally does, but—
Instinct tells him that this sudden bout of darkness is unnatural. Unprecedented, unwanted; Noah stands and tucks his sketchbook underneath his arm, moving toward his dorm room's door, when the smell of something burning catches his attention. In a panic, he looks around the room, only to realise moments later that what's burning isn't a fire, but rather his PDA. Touching it from where he'd left it on his desk slightly burns his hand, enough to get him to pull it back in shock with a silent hiss.
He doesn't understand the thing enough to say what's wrong with it, other than it's so hot that he imagines the parts inside must be melted, and since it won't turn on when he tries... well, he'll pocket it for now and make his way out to see if anyone else is awake.
If Noah catches sight of you in the dorms — outside of your room, of course, he's not going to go barging in this late at night to wake anyone — he'll approach swiftly, with an anxious air about him, indicating that he wants to talk with a wave of his notebook and the pencil in his opposite hand. In Noah's only semi-legible handwriting, he writes out,]
Do you know what's going on? My PDA smells like it caught fire and it won't turn on anymore, plus... I feel like something is wrong. Really wrong.
[and then he passes the notebook over for you, with the pencil.]
☽ 几⊙ ℏ oᛖ ǝ
[That same night, Noah sets foot into the school proper, and he recognizes the pitch-black, dilapidated environment almost immediately. He's spent too much time within the alternate school to mistake it for anything else.
Somehow, this is so much worse than usual. The moment he sets foot into the building, anxiety flares up in his chest, though he can't say for certain if it's because of his own complicated emotions or because of the school itself. Regardless, shaking it off as he always does when the going gets tough, Noah presses onwards — hooking a sharp left past the lockers and parkouring over the pieces of the floor that are gradually falling away into the void.
As he expects, there's nothing on this side of the school besides more void, and gentle, sweet whispers compelling him to step into the auditorium—
Wait.]
You don't hear that, do you?
[Who really knows if someone's actually there with him, or if he's just talking to the ever-whispering voices telling him that just one more step will lead him to a final, dreamless sleep?]
☽ ∏o ꅐ hε r Σ
[The forest stretches on with no end in sight, and though Noah follows the river, there's simply nothing out here.
Hours pass, and he's beginning to give up. Where does this lead? Is there an escape? When he turns back, he can't even see the school anymore, but he knows he's not free. How could anyone be?
Noah packed enough water and remaining vending machine snacks to prepare for a day's journey. Perhaps that was idealistic of him, to think that there would be an end to this madness in sight, only a day away. Even then, he doesn't plan to eat any of the food or drink any of the water, just in case. He knows his limits. He's done this more times than he can possibly count, exploring the wilderness with nary a thing on his person.
He'd much rather you eat what he's packed, after all. Most people aren't equipped to deal with surviving out in the forest for a day or two on end, let alone the weeks at a time Noah used to do back home. He won't make you stay for that long, of course, and you're free to head back early if you want.
In the many hours you've both been here, though, there hasn't been a single animal in sight. Nothing to forage, either. It's a labyrinth, dark and imposing and twisting, with the only marker for where you are being the babbling river. Bitterly, Noah thinks that this might be a good source of water if anyone could verify how safe it is to drink. Sure, surviving here means boiling water every time before imbibing it, but his paranoia makes him think something is horribly wrong with the river water. Something that simply boiling the water can't fix.]
It really is never-ending. ...do you want to take a break?
[He's determined to press on, to not turn back, not yet, but he's not stupid enough to think that walking on and on without cessation is a fantastic idea.]
☽ ѡ į? Ŀᚦ c¿Ⱥ rᗫ?
[If you can't see the special characters because you don't have certain things installed on your computer or w/e the prompt names are "No Hope", "No Home", and "No Where", also wolfchan add me on plurk for crimes]
no subject
[He's awake when the world turns dark, when the flickering candle he was using for light suddenly snuffs out as if a cold breeze had blown over it, and at once does Noah get the feeling that something is very, very wrong. His pencil stops scrawling across the page, all sound coming to a screeching halt as it normally does, but—
Instinct tells him that this sudden bout of darkness is unnatural. Unprecedented, unwanted; Noah stands and tucks his sketchbook underneath his arm, moving toward his dorm room's door, when the smell of something burning catches his attention. In a panic, he looks around the room, only to realise moments later that what's burning isn't a fire, but rather his PDA. Touching it from where he'd left it on his desk slightly burns his hand, enough to get him to pull it back in shock with a silent hiss.
He doesn't understand the thing enough to say what's wrong with it, other than it's so hot that he imagines the parts inside must be melted, and since it won't turn on when he tries... well, he'll pocket it for now and make his way out to see if anyone else is awake.
If Noah catches sight of you in the dorms — outside of your room, of course, he's not going to go barging in this late at night to wake anyone — he'll approach swiftly, with an anxious air about him, indicating that he wants to talk with a wave of his notebook and the pencil in his opposite hand. In Noah's only semi-legible handwriting, he writes out,]
Do you know what's going on? My PDA smells like it caught fire and it won't turn on anymore, plus... I feel like something is wrong. Really wrong.
[and then he passes the notebook over for you, with the pencil.]
☽ 几⊙ ℏ oᛖ ǝ
[That same night, Noah sets foot into the school proper, and he recognizes the pitch-black, dilapidated environment almost immediately. He's spent too much time within the alternate school to mistake it for anything else.
Somehow, this is so much worse than usual. The moment he sets foot into the building, anxiety flares up in his chest, though he can't say for certain if it's because of his own complicated emotions or because of the school itself. Regardless, shaking it off as he always does when the going gets tough, Noah presses onwards — hooking a sharp left past the lockers and parkouring over the pieces of the floor that are gradually falling away into the void.
As he expects, there's nothing on this side of the school besides more void, and gentle, sweet whispers compelling him to step into the auditorium—
Wait.]
You don't hear that, do you?
[Who really knows if someone's actually there with him, or if he's just talking to the ever-whispering voices telling him that just one more step will lead him to a final, dreamless sleep?]
☽ ∏o ꅐ hε r Σ
[The forest stretches on with no end in sight, and though Noah follows the river, there's simply nothing out here.
Hours pass, and he's beginning to give up. Where does this lead? Is there an escape? When he turns back, he can't even see the school anymore, but he knows he's not free. How could anyone be?
Noah packed enough water and remaining vending machine snacks to prepare for a day's journey. Perhaps that was idealistic of him, to think that there would be an end to this madness in sight, only a day away. Even then, he doesn't plan to eat any of the food or drink any of the water, just in case. He knows his limits. He's done this more times than he can possibly count, exploring the wilderness with nary a thing on his person.
He'd much rather you eat what he's packed, after all. Most people aren't equipped to deal with surviving out in the forest for a day or two on end, let alone the weeks at a time Noah used to do back home. He won't make you stay for that long, of course, and you're free to head back early if you want.
In the many hours you've both been here, though, there hasn't been a single animal in sight. Nothing to forage, either. It's a labyrinth, dark and imposing and twisting, with the only marker for where you are being the babbling river. Bitterly, Noah thinks that this might be a good source of water if anyone could verify how safe it is to drink. Sure, surviving here means boiling water every time before imbibing it, but his paranoia makes him think something is horribly wrong with the river water. Something that simply boiling the water can't fix.]
It really is never-ending. ...do you want to take a break?
[He's determined to press on, to not turn back, not yet, but he's not stupid enough to think that walking on and on without cessation is a fantastic idea.]
☽ ѡ į? Ŀᚦ c¿Ⱥ rᗫ?
[If you can't see the special characters because you don't have certain things installed on your computer or w/e the prompt names are "No Hope", "No Home", and "No Where", also