Noah Ebalon (π·ππππππππ) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
silentabyss) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
yogen2021-04-24 04:17 pm
silentabyss) wrote in yogen2021-04-24 04:17 pm
i'm on my way through every day
Who: Noah & YOU!
What: A sad but motivated teenage boy Doing His Best
Where: Around the school, specifics in prompts
When: 4/24 and 4/25
Warnings: Mentions/portrayals of PTSD
APRIL 24TH, MORNING
[Noah is conspicuously absent from class this morning, which is actually fairly odd for him; he's learnt that ditching doesn't get him anywhere and surely knows that Clamor will get on his ass about it later. But... he's absent, that's for sure. He isn't seen all morning, in fact. He's not in the art room, he wasn't at his locker before class, and even if you look for him and that distinct silver-blue hair of his you can't see him in the throngs of students in the hallways.
Luckily, he's not dead, but he's not quite fine either. He's curled up between some bookshelves in the library sitting on the floor with his back leaning against the hard wood, knees drawn to his chest and his notebook open at his side like he'd been trying to keep his hands occupied and just couldn't, the pen tossed carelessly between the pages. On the pages themselves are some drawings, things Noah normally draws β black cartoonish cats jumping between the lines on the pages, half-finished portraits of fellow students, a sketch of an interesting-looking sickle, and... another drawing of a man with scribbled-out facial features, the chaotic and scratchy motions of the lines depicting Noah's mental state at the time of drawing.
The page next to that has a half-written note, perhaps a letter, the handwriting nearly impossible to read. The only words that can be clearly deciphered read: "Harque, I miss you."
Despite the silence of the library, one thing is apparent: Noah is crying, the shaking of his shoulders giving that away clearly despite the fact that his hiccupping sobs cannot be heard. Half of his face is buried in one of his hands, and the other is limply draped over the tops of his knees. He doesn't notice anyone approaching for obvious reasons.
Perhaps you poke him or touch him to get his attention, in which case he jumps visibly and blindly swats you away with one very strong swing of his arm, not quite put together enough to realise that he struck, hollow-eyed as he is. Or perhaps you pick up the notebook next to him, which only serves to barely get his attention? Or, do you try something else to snap him out of it?]
APRIL 25TH, AFTERNOON
[Having overcome yesterday's breakdown, Noah can be found in the auditorium with several students. On first glance to outsiders, it looks like he's in a fistfight (uh-oh!) but... upon closer inspection, he seems to be teaching the small group how to fight. More accurately, he's teaching them how to defend themselves. He... probably didn't get teacher permission for that, but it's fine. No one's here to tell him no!
He might have already offered this at the charity auction as a donation, but he's not going to wait to find out if this is okay or not. He's not really understanding this whole auction thing to begin with, it seems.
For someone who doesn't know how to talk to people normally, when he's giving others instructions on how to break out of chokeholds and what to do if they're grabbed from behind, he's extremely clear and not stuttering at all. And... maybe a little morbid, because he very loudly says,]
If you get stabbed, it's not a good idea to yank the knife out. That's keeping the blood in you.
[It's a good tip, in any case, but jeez.
Noah goes on instructing the small group of people. At one point, he grabs one of the volunteer students from behind and holds their wrists (gently) so that they "can't escape" as a demonstration, and asks them what they would do in this situation. Are you the student he grabbed? Or are you the student who's next, the one he's trying to teach to throw a proper punch? Don't tuck your thumb in, remember, you might break it!
Alternatively, if he spots you lingering and watching, he'll invite you to join in with a little nod acknowledging your presence, letting you know that this is just a self-defense course and not to be worried. He hasn't hurt anyone and he's clearly trying to help others avoid future, erm, incidents.]
WILDCARD
[Feel free to hit me up with a prompt of your own making, or message on plurk for plotting at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
wolfchan!]
What: A sad but motivated teenage boy Doing His Best
Where: Around the school, specifics in prompts
When: 4/24 and 4/25
Warnings: Mentions/portrayals of PTSD
APRIL 24TH, MORNING
[Noah is conspicuously absent from class this morning, which is actually fairly odd for him; he's learnt that ditching doesn't get him anywhere and surely knows that Clamor will get on his ass about it later. But... he's absent, that's for sure. He isn't seen all morning, in fact. He's not in the art room, he wasn't at his locker before class, and even if you look for him and that distinct silver-blue hair of his you can't see him in the throngs of students in the hallways.
Luckily, he's not dead, but he's not quite fine either. He's curled up between some bookshelves in the library sitting on the floor with his back leaning against the hard wood, knees drawn to his chest and his notebook open at his side like he'd been trying to keep his hands occupied and just couldn't, the pen tossed carelessly between the pages. On the pages themselves are some drawings, things Noah normally draws β black cartoonish cats jumping between the lines on the pages, half-finished portraits of fellow students, a sketch of an interesting-looking sickle, and... another drawing of a man with scribbled-out facial features, the chaotic and scratchy motions of the lines depicting Noah's mental state at the time of drawing.
The page next to that has a half-written note, perhaps a letter, the handwriting nearly impossible to read. The only words that can be clearly deciphered read: "Harque, I miss you."
Despite the silence of the library, one thing is apparent: Noah is crying, the shaking of his shoulders giving that away clearly despite the fact that his hiccupping sobs cannot be heard. Half of his face is buried in one of his hands, and the other is limply draped over the tops of his knees. He doesn't notice anyone approaching for obvious reasons.
Perhaps you poke him or touch him to get his attention, in which case he jumps visibly and blindly swats you away with one very strong swing of his arm, not quite put together enough to realise that he struck, hollow-eyed as he is. Or perhaps you pick up the notebook next to him, which only serves to barely get his attention? Or, do you try something else to snap him out of it?]
APRIL 25TH, AFTERNOON
[Having overcome yesterday's breakdown, Noah can be found in the auditorium with several students. On first glance to outsiders, it looks like he's in a fistfight (uh-oh!) but... upon closer inspection, he seems to be teaching the small group how to fight. More accurately, he's teaching them how to defend themselves. He... probably didn't get teacher permission for that, but it's fine. No one's here to tell him no!
He might have already offered this at the charity auction as a donation, but he's not going to wait to find out if this is okay or not. He's not really understanding this whole auction thing to begin with, it seems.
For someone who doesn't know how to talk to people normally, when he's giving others instructions on how to break out of chokeholds and what to do if they're grabbed from behind, he's extremely clear and not stuttering at all. And... maybe a little morbid, because he very loudly says,]
If you get stabbed, it's not a good idea to yank the knife out. That's keeping the blood in you.
[It's a good tip, in any case, but jeez.
Noah goes on instructing the small group of people. At one point, he grabs one of the volunteer students from behind and holds their wrists (gently) so that they "can't escape" as a demonstration, and asks them what they would do in this situation. Are you the student he grabbed? Or are you the student who's next, the one he's trying to teach to throw a proper punch? Don't tuck your thumb in, remember, you might break it!
Alternatively, if he spots you lingering and watching, he'll invite you to join in with a little nod acknowledging your presence, letting you know that this is just a self-defense course and not to be worried. He hasn't hurt anyone and he's clearly trying to help others avoid future, erm, incidents.]
WILDCARD
[Feel free to hit me up with a prompt of your own making, or message on plurk for plotting at
APRIL 24
but is more than prepared to quite literally catch any hands. this isn't his first rodeo. )
no subject
βhe's fine, andβ
βand someone people are dead but he's... fine?
He wipes his eyes off on the backs of his hands and mouths out a single word: Sorry.]
no subject
people are dead. he's clearly been through a lot. he cannot judge a child for his fear. but he can stay close by, if he needs. after a moment, sidney points at the notebook- either he's asking to see, or asking if they can use it to talk. )
no subject
But here, faced with this, with the reality that he can't go home and that people around him could die at any moment and he's defenseless... it reminds him too much of the circumstances leading up to this point. There's no longer a way he can pretend he's fine and put on a brave face, which is why he came crawling to the back of the library to hide away between the shelves.
No one has to know when he's having a breakdown. He's supposed to be strong for others. He said he would do that much.
But the notebook is fair game, and Noah has indicated as such, even if he's looking elsewhere for the time being.]
no subject
he doesn't mean to look at the actual pages, only to find a blank one, but he does. ... harque, huh? the cats are ordinary enough, but the weapon and the man with the scratched out face... none of this painted a pretty picture. but it's not his place, so he flips to a blank page to write.
what would work best... comfort, or distraction? writing with just one hand is irritating, but it's small compared to everything else. )
Is there anything you need right now? Anything at all.
( once it's written out, he holds the notebook out to noah. )
no subject
He writes a note back after contemplating for a moment, hands shaking. What does he need? Nothing practical, nothing Sidney can fulfill for him. His brother being alive is a good start, if impossible. Confirmation that this is all some sick joke might be good, that when he wakes up everything will be fine? But that's not reality, and as much as Noah would rather all of this be a badly thought-out prank, he knows better. And so, finally, he writes back:]
A hug.
no subject
no subject
Noah's parents never graced him with the comfort of physical touch, absent as they were; Harque had only lived until the boy hit his fifth birthday and was quickly disposed of after that, and his doppelganger had never been so affectionate. For an imposter, he only halfway fit the role, something that Noah has only come to realise recently.
His sobbing only seems to worsen once he has someone to cry onto, but at the very least, everything that's been trapped inside is free after so, so long. It takes him quite a few minutes before he's calmed down enough to actually let go, to stop crying and just to sit there in the boundless silence.
Grabbing his notebook again, all Noah writes after that is,]
Thank you. I'm sorry.
no subject
Don't ever apologize for feeling upset or wanting comfort. And don't apologize for crying. It's a part of healing. Anyone who shames you for it is wrong.
( will noah believe him? he doesn't know. but he can stay at his side and shelter him under his arm for now. )
no subject
Should he... should he apologise for apologising? ...probably not?]
I know. I just don't want to inconvenience you.
[Sidney probably has stuff that he does too, after all.]
no subject
( maybe some would consider his reply too quick, especially with the absence of the sound of a pen scratching against paper. but he means it, in every way. the implications are horribly unsettling, however... carefully, he keeps noah in a one-sided hug, squeezing his shoulder a bit.
this poor kid. )
no subject
[Classes are in session, obviously, or he thinks they are? Noah doesn't know how long he's been here, having lost all sense of time since the panic started to set in. He leans his head on Sidney's shoulder regardless, breathing a small, shaky sigh. The sigh itself obviously can't be heard, but the way his shoulders shake can be felt.
He doesn't want to deflect Sidney's help or devalue himself at all, but... at the same time, he's had lots of breakdowns in the past that he confronted alone.]
sidney like HEY CLAMOR CAN WE TALK???
Nothing worth setting you aside for. You're deserving of help. Far more important than anything here.
IT'S NOT CLAMOR'S FAULT HE'S USUALLY A SCYTHE!!
Being able to admit he needs help is the last thing he ever wants to do, and yet...]
If you say so.
[He's not trying to be dismissive, but that's sort of how that comes off, doesn't it?]
But thanks, still. I mean that a lot. I don't know how to process stuff like whatever this is.
[Listen, mental health care on Elrios is nonexistent.]
HES NOT BLAMING CLAMOR HES KEEPING HIM INFOOOORMED
That's okay. So log as you know you can accept help from others. Okay?
*sidney voice* hey i found this in the library
[Why would he burden others with his problems? He has a hard enough time admitting when something is wrong to Clamor. Imagine having normal emotional processing... couldn't be Noah.]
How do you get good at that?
yes exactly
Helping others in this sort of situation, or accepting help?
no subject
[Especially not Clamor, who already has enough to deal with as it is. Others have issues that are more important; who is Noah to make them worry about him?]
dads a sap
Treat yourself with kindness. You deserve to have someone ease the burdens you carry with you.