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Noah Riley

"I am not Noah Riley."

0 · 231 views · located in ATAVerse

a character in “Episodes and Epilogues”, as played by arctickchild

Description

Noah's appearance varies to help them fit in with whatever universe they land in, but they can usually be counted on to be slightly stockier than average and have brown eyes.

Noah appears to be roughly 26, named June 17. They have an engineered ability to step across universes and manipulate the verses they land in, but can't control which universe they land in or the physique they have when they get there. They also can't use the ability at will; the act of crossing universes is something Noah can't control, and the abilities they got along with it take a massive toll on both their psyche and the world around them.

Character Bio: Noah is the eldest of eight kids, and has been away from home for a long, long time. They joined the Association of Technological Advancement in order to pay for their youngest sister's schooling, but as a side effect of their abilities, their mind tends to empty itself during each step, and they lose bits of their memories as it reboots. They don't know the name of their home universe, or their family, or even their real name; they call themself Noah Riley because that's the name scribbled on the inside of their notebook, but the notebook itself was stolen from a kid in one of the first universes they landed in.

As a result, Noah tends to avoid attachments; they're quiet, generally keep to themself, and act more as an observer to the events around them than an active participant.

Setting: Noah's story takes place in the ATAVerse, a collection of universes they travel to as a result of experiments run by the Association.

So begins...

Noah Riley's Story

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The rain pools at their feet.

Noah turns their face into it, breathing. It feels different here; the last rainstorm they were in was a few 'verses back, a torrential downpour that had the locals dancing and singing in the streets. It had been a holy day for them; a day to celebrate the renewal of life and mourn for the lost opportunities of the past seasons. Noah had laughed as children pulled them into a carefree spin, had sat with them and listened to their stories for hours; it had been a good end to a good month, the longest they'd ever spent in one place. It had been rejuvenating; a rebirth of the spirit, the priest had called it, with a kind smile and gentle touch.

Now they just feel exhausted. The rain pools at their feet, sluggish and dull. Their claws twist in the soggy paper of the aged notebook, mangling it. It's ruined, again; they'll have to restore it, again. It gets harder each time, the clarity of the earlier words lost in the mud seeping through their boots. They're all so small, ink and curved letters and the stench of decaying cellulose, sharp and sweet, but they mean so much.

Don't they?

They could drop it. They could let the entirety of their written history dissolve away in the rain and the fog, be eaten by the dirt and bugs that pool I the rainwater around their feet. It would be easy. They wouldn't even remember the notebook in a few jumps.
Their claws tighten around the pages. A few jumps, and nothing would be left of Noah Riley or the thief wearing her name, nothing left of the twenty worlds of pain in their past.

There is a pull in their gut, and Noah steps forward into a new skin instead.

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Noah Riley has a list in their notebook. It's short, a smattering of names from various lives, a few small lines; a name, something they loved about that person, a scrap of fabric, a description of a scene, anything, anything, anything to impress the memories into the slowly widening sieve of their mind.

Idrix: made up songs about everything. soft snow piles and shivering beneath a hot shower. sunshine? warmth, bright yellows, gentle orange, a laugh against your neck
Maria: cooked shellfish in heavy cream. fluffy blankets and prayers in the candlelight. jasmine, lavender, shirtless summer nights,
β€œSanta MarΓ­a, Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros pecadores - β€œ
Xalix: freedom, gunpowder and starlight, blood in your mouth, and a scrap of a battered army uniform

They force themself to remember; they draw the slowly dimming faces on the back of every page, trying to fill the holes with pale reflections of the emotions captured between the lines.

mi familia: they scrawl the title across the top of the page, hasty and desperate. They had a different family once, they think; a normal family, siblings and parents in the same home, the same universe, but they can't remember. All they have left is this -- the slowly growing list of names that loses more meaning the more they read it, the confused fear of forgetting something important.

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How do you keep everything straight?

Xallix' cheek is soft and warm; the coarse fur scrapes against Noah's thumb, and they smile despite themself. The soldier is half-asleep against them, languid and relaxed the way she only ever is when it's just the two of them. It's a strange feeling; Noah leans over, pressing a gentle kiss between their ears. This feels so familiar; the world steady beneath their feet, the universe silenced around them. This must have been what it was like before, Noah thinks; warm and steady, no fear of losing everything again -

The army is falling back, shouting for a retreat that is already in full swing. Noah can taste blood in their mouth, panting desperately as they abandon their shattered blade and strike out with their claws instead. A dull burn pulses at the base of their skull. They've overstretched themself; the familiar numbness tingles through their arms, crawling into their bones, and they throw the attacker of themself, looking, desperate, Xal, Xal, where are you, where -

"I love you." The admission is breathed into her neck, curled around each other in a tiny tent on what would become the deadliest battlefield of the war. Noah is warm and safe; a participant, playing with the universe's rules, scratching the hard to reach space behind Xallix' ears. It's not a role they're used to, not one they're entirely comfortable with, but this has always been the price of stability. Xallix purrs gently, claws trailing gently across Noah's spine,

Xallix bleeds out in their arms, choking and terrified; Xallix laughs and traces the scars across Noah's back; Xallix' eyes are cold and mistrusting as they collapse to their knees in a world they know nothing off; Xal, Xal, Xal, Xal.

I try not to.