Noah Ebalon (𝕷𝖎𝖇𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗) (![[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 — 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 — 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
no subject
She doesn't offer a pat on the back or a hug or anything like that. She just murmurs,] It never really stops hurting, does it.
no subject
[Is it supposed to? He hears adults talking all the time about how it's possible to move on and recover, but that's something Noah doesn't think he'll ever be able to do. How is he supposed to get over his brother's assassination? How does he move on from the people who experimented on him?
How is he supposed to face the fact that students here are in danger? How can he do nothing to help the two that already died? To not feel forlorn about the situation? To not be scared in a place like this where they're all stuck without a way out?
He shakes his head; it's all he can muster at this point.]
no subject
[Roman. Da Vinci. Most of the people Ritsuka lived with, became family with, for two years. Kiara. Meltryllis. An endless mound of corpses, throwing themselves on a sword to create a ramp for her to climb up to her goal, whatever it even was anymore.
Becoming numb to grief wasn't really an option, at least for Ritsuka. She doesn't want to forget them, she doesn't want to forget anyone. She needs to keep that pain in her heart.]
You're always going to carry that weight with you. It's just a matter of getting better at doing other stuff at the same time while it's in the back of your mind.
...some days are worse than others, though.
no subject
Maybe that's possible. Noah doesn't know. He'd like to think he's fairly good at shutting everything down long enough to get things done, but sometimes a dam just breaks and leaves him crippled.
Being here, seeing what he's seen, knowing that people here could die at any moment? That doesn't bode well. It almost wants to make him break down more, but Noah knows that helplessness is more likely to get him killed too and put others at risk.
He has to save them. He has to.]
Y...yeah. It's always been easier for me to shut everything off. I'm really bad at, um... coping, I guess.
no subject
I've never really had time to just stop and process, I guess.