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Noah Salt

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a character in “Stand By Me”, as played by St.Valentine

Description

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Name: Noah Hayden Salt

Age: 10

Birthday: October 4th

Mother: Natasha Sharapova

Father: Viktor Salt

"I'm Noah, and I'm ten years old. My family is from Moscow, Russia, and that is why we sound different than our neighbors when we talk.

I like to dirtbike and play rugby. I'm also really good at American football. I don't like school very much but my teacher says I'm above average at math and science.

Don't ask me about my dad. I haven't seen him since I was five. I don't know where he went and my mom won't tell me, but it's okay because I don't care anyway. I get letters from him but I don't read them.

My little sister, Eryka, seems to think he will come back. She talks about it often enough. She says she likes when we play our instruments together. I like to spend time with her, but don't tell her I said that.

I play guitar sometimes. My guitar and my dirtbike were both gifts from my dad.

Me, my mom and Eryka moved to the United States a few weeks after I last saw him. Since then we've moved around alot, and I haven't liked where we've lived much. But there's a pretty girl at school and she's nice. So I kinda like it here the best."

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[ His Story ]

Although Noah is academically and physically above his class, his teachers have a difficult time understanding him. He has the tendency to clam up, not unlike his sister, and will refuse to participate in group activities. His P.E. teacher, however, claims that he is a wonderful team player though he can sometimes be a bit of a ball- and glory-hog. His behavior at school also has become a problem on occasion, especially when it involves Eryka, who is often teased. He has fought other children, pushed them, insulted them, and made several cry- but in each separate case, he was never the instigator. He is impulsive, oftentimes obnoxious, extremely protective and quick witted.

Underneath the abrasive exterior, however, he is genuinely a sweet hearted boy and a little sensitive. His mother has raised him to be a gentleman when it comes to girls, though he is not exempt from chasing after or teasing a crush. He is more reserved than outgoing, but on a good day he can be quite the clown and even somewhat charming. He likes to write in the journal he keeps for class; its pages are covered in little scribblings and doodles, as well as some thoughts about his father. He doesn't like to talk about him like Eryka does, but he will often pour out his feelings on paper.

Noah was the the first son of Viktor and Natasha, but Viktor's fourth from a different wife. Viktor and Natasha had a tumultuous relationship; one which little Noah witnessed crumble. He was often caught in the middle of vicious arguments, some that got physical most of the time. Though Noah adored his father as a small boy, his feelings for the man became skewed and rocky as he got older. The day that his family left for America was one that Noah could never forget, and he often has nightmares about the incidents leading to that day.

Since then, his relationship with his mother and sister has become quite strong and he is protective of them both. However, his mother has been seeing other men lately. She has never been in a relationship serious enough to bring the men into her home, Noah stays up late enough to peek through the window of their little apartment and see her kissing them. Although he loves Natasha very much, the young boy can't help but feel a little resentful and hurt toward her.

All he hopes for at this new school is a fresh start, and maybe a friend that could keep the lonely boy some company.

So begins...

Noah Salt's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Britney Dean Welsch Character Portrait: Noah Salt
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As Britney climbed the stairs towards the Royal Table, her eyes were caught by a familiar boy that always make her blush. Noah Salt. He seemed to be in trouble as a teacher frowned down at him, most probably escorting the boy to the Principal's Office. And before she knew it, her feet were taking her to another direction. Knowing the in's and out's of the school yard has it's uses as Britney slid into the staircase that overlooks the principal's door. No one can see her from her position as she waited for Noah to walk in with the teacher.

She then looked around to see if anyone saw her, no one can know about her undying love for Noah. Well okay, it's just a crush. But absolutely no one can know about it- especially Zoey! Her best friend would ostracize her from the group if she knew her secret. And besides, she goes around telling them that it was William Flint she has a crush on. A total lie since she can't stand the boy.

She crouched and did her best to stay hidden as she waited for the boy.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jason Christopher Sinclair Character Portrait: Britney Dean Welsch Character Portrait: Noah Salt
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#, as written by Aradia
Jason worked steadily to peel off the sticky adhesive that clung to the palms of his hands. His gaze was cast downward as he studied each and every thin coating of dried glue — not wanting to meet the pair of questioning green eyes. Using the index finger and thumb of his right hand, he started to remove a large portion that covered his left hand. Jason would continue this process as long as he needed to. He would do any mediocre task in order to avoid seeing the disappointment etched onto Miss Morrell's features. The eight year old boy genuinely liked her. Despite the grief that he dished out to the young teacher on occasion, she would never resort to screaming or harsh remarks. She wasn't like grumpy old Mrs. Hudson across the hall — who seemed to be reduce little boys and girls to tears with her nasty glare and ugly witch-like nose. Miss Morrell didn't seem like the type of lady who would give up on others either. Unlike his mom, who had given up on both Jason and his dad before she ever really got to know him. The dirty blonde ground his teeth in frustration; not liking the direction his thoughts were headed one bit. 

Jason guessed he was lucky because, just as soon as they had come, they vanished. His train of thought quickly came to a standsill when the sound of creaking doors reached his ears and he almost breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want to think too hard about her. Hoping and wishing were useless any way. It wasn't as if anything he did was going to make her come back.

"I've already talked to Adrian and he told me his point of view. Now I want to hear yours. What happened back in the classroom, Jason?" Miss Morrell asked. As a school teacher, she was hoping to convey to the stubborn boy that she wouldn't be taking sides on this matter. She wanted him to know that there was always two sides to every story; yet, it was proving to be very difficult for him to open up. Miss Morrell often found Jason's inability to voice his insecurities to be the most problematic. In fact, the young male barely spoke at all. She would be lying if she said it didn't worry her. Children his age were notorious for being loud and rambunctious — two personality traits that he seemed to lack altogether. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she crouched down to his eye level and gave him a reassuring smile. "Look at me, Jason. It's not good to keep things bottled up all the time. I'd really like to hear what you have to say."

"Not my fault that Adrian is a dunderhead," he mumbled. 

"That's not very nice."

"Adrian's not very nice," he countered. Jason wasn't going to let that terrible guy get out of this situation unscathed. 

Miss Morrell's smile curved slightly downward at his retorts. It didn't falter completely but she was disheartened — especially since she knew that Adrian had provoked him. "Does this have anything to do with your missing history homework?"

Jason could only shake his head. He had already fibbed twice today. It would be bad to do it a third time; though, by the looks of where this conversation were heading, it didn't seem like he had a choice. Pulling out a crumpled piece of paper, Miss Morrell quickly smoothed it out and presented it to him. "Thanksgiving is a time to be thankful for what you have. Does this sound familiar?" His eyes widened in surprise for a moment before he realized his folly and looked away. "I found this on Adrian's desk while I was cleaning up the glue. I thought you didn't do the assignment?"

"I didn't. I told you. Homework is a waste of trees. It kills the planet," he argued. There goes another fib. Ignoring his protests, Miss Morrell continued on — all while pointing to the evidence right in front of them. "This has your name on it, Jason. Even your handwriting is the same one. If you look closely, there's your grandfather's signature on the bottom."

A minute passed.

"I have to take you to principal if you don't tell me what happened. Jason, I know you're a good kid. I don't want to do this but you aren't giving me any other option."

Two minutes passed.

Jason shifted uncomfortably in place. He had no intention of cooperating today. Even though Adrian was the biggest jerk in the world and deserved to have all that glue shoved down his pants, he wasn't a tattle tale. Not now. Not ever. Hearing Miss Morrell sigh sent a small amount of relief washed over his body. It looked like the interrogation was over; for now any way. All he had left to deal with was the principal. Jason could do that. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Even at eight years old, he had already been sent to the office on numerous occasions. This time would be no different.

The pair walked down the emptied hallways in silence. Mindless chatter and the pounding of rubber against concrete could be heard from outside but neither made an effort to contribute to the noises. Clutching onto the handle of his backpack, Jason caught glimpses of the courtyard. He was missing out lunchtime for this. He could only that the office secretary would let him munch of the snacks his grandma tucked away into his bag earlier. Francesca Sinclair had packed an awful lot this morning. Enough for two lunch boxes! Jason guessed that he was meant to share it with friends. It looked like anyone that he even vaguely considered a friend was out of luck.

"This is it," Miss Morrell said when they finally reached their destination. Signalling to the secretary their arrival and requesting a meeting with the principal, her eyes travelled to Jason — already making himself at home. She couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. He had plopped himself onto the wooden bench situated in the office's waiting area and eagerly began to dig into a resealable plastic bag filled to the brim with goldfish crackers. Giving all of Jason's necessary information and explaining what had taken place, Miss Morrell left the task of phoning guardians to her fellow staff member.

"Looks like I'll be going now. I hope to see you back in class later, Jason."

He mumbled an ok through a mouth full of cheesy crackers and watched her disappear down the hallway. Kicking at the air with his sneaker clad feet, Jason continued to devour the fish shaped snacks. He wondered how long it would take for his grandparents to get here — if the principal thought that what he did was bad enough to warrant that any way — and glanced at the hanging analog clock. Maybe he would get off with a stern talking to and a warning again. After all, that's what happened last time.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jason Christopher Sinclair Character Portrait: Noah Salt
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"Now you just take a seat right there, young man," came a deep, old voice.

Following the voice was Mrs. Bordeaux, the hag-like fourth(?) grade teacher notorious for being extra stern and not as forgiving as her fellow instructors. Right beside the lady was Noah, whose glare was so unwavering and resentful you could almost see his seams on the verge of bursting. He was clearly disheveled; there were twigs and leaves caught in his wild brown hair, various grass stains on his pants, and a splotch of mud on his face. He plopped down on the bench beside Jason without another word, his angry gaze now focused on the linoleum floor.

"You take that look off your face, mister. The principal isn't going to be very happy with you."

With a look just as grave as Noah's, the teacher disappeared into the office, leaving the boy to seethe in silence. His swampy eyes even became a little glossy, but with one sniffle and wipe with his sleeve to his nose, they were clear again. He wouldn't allow anyone to see him shed a tear, especially for being so mad. His fists were clenched so tightly than his knuckles were becoming pale, and once he realized this, he crossed his arms instead. A few moments later, Mrs. Bordeaux reappeared.

"And to think, your grades showed that you could be one of our star pupils. It's such a shame that you would resort to-"

"Todd had it coming," Noah grumbled bitterly, his accent lilting his words.

"Mr. Salt! I will not tolerate such disrespect! You'd best change your attitude if you wish to succeed in my class, mister. The principal will have a word with you once she's finished with Mr. Sinclaire here."

She sneered at the blond boy from behind her glasses for added effect, then began to walk away. Once her back faced the two, Noah stick his tongue out at her as far as he could, screwing up his face in exaggeration. She disappeared, and once he was satisfied with his rebuttal, he sank back into the bench and looked over at Jason.

"So, what are you in for?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jason Christopher Sinclair Character Portrait: Noah Salt
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#, as written by Aradia
Jason cast a sideways glance at Forks school's secretary. "She's new," he mused to himself. He hadn't expected for the perky blonde behind the reception desk to overhear; however, nothing ever seemed to go the way Jason expected it to. Her vivid hazel eyes met his for a fraction of a second, her pearly white teeth gleaming as she smiled at him. He blinked in confusion. He didn't feel guilty for being caught redhanded — he hadn't badmouthed her, after all — but surprise colored his features at her adept hearing. Jason had tried to speak as low as possible! 

Angling his body as to avoid conversing with her, he continued to kick at the air. Jason's mind had conjured up dozens of villainous baddies for him to battle — his dangling legs moving to the office's natural rhythm. His hands instinctively reached for the cheese flavored crackers, fishing out two and popping them into his mouth with ease. 

Jason had busied himself with this menial routine for about thirty minutes. He had long predicted an average wait time of an hour — the principal sure was busy around the holiday time — but he didn't think anyone would be joining him soon. The thought of having the wooden bench all to himself vanished when he spied two others approaching the office. Jason slumped against the hard seat in disappoinment and looked toward the pair with veiled curiousity. He immediately recognized Mrs. Bordeaux and scowled. She was such a nasty old lady — always chastising Jason for his actions and making sour faces at him when no one else was around. He hadn't meant to douse her in that bucket of sewer water. She hadn't been his target at all but, like they said, the damage was done. Jason couldn't do anything about her rotten attitude toward him. Quite frankly, he didn't care one bit. 

He peered around the angry teacher to come face to face with a livid boy. Jason tried his best to identify the newcomer but couldn't place a name to the face. His curiousity soon became unabashed as he noticed the other boy's appearance. He looked like he had spent all morning in a forest — with various debris clinging to messy dark hair and mossy greens and muddy browns stained his body. Jason could feel fury rolling off him in waves; the tension in the air escalating when he took the empty seat beside him. The eight year old student fought the urge to roll his eyes as Mrs. Bordeaux spoke. She could be really annoying. He watched her disappear into the off limits area — unless you were called in — of the room and huffed lowly.

Taking the opportunity that had presented itself at this moment, Jason examined his fellow prison buddy. The expression that the other boy wore was one he'd seen before. It mirrored all those times that he'd wanted to cry but wouldn't let himself. Jason opened his mouth to speak but promptly snapped it shut when he noticed the brunette reverting back to being furious. The transition was so quick that he thought he might have imagined it. Either way, Jason was bright enough not to question it. Those suspicions of his would go unconfirmed and he was perfectly content with that. He wasn't a brown noser like all those snooty girls in his class.

Grabbing his backpack and rummaging through its contents, Jason barely acknowledged Mrs. Bordeaux's return. "You'd best change your attitude if you wish to succeed in my class," Jason reiterated mockingly — his voice rising a pitch or two to match the woman's screech. At the mention of his last name, he paused in his search and glared daggers at the old crone. "What a hag," he voiced bitterly once she was a good distance away from the duo. There was a ghost of a smile playing on Jason's lips — only now noticing the exaggerated face of the boy beside him. 

He has an accent. It was the thought that raced in Jason's mind when his seat mate addressed him. Other than the German accents he sometimes caught when his dad phoned the Sinclair household, he'd never heard another. Especially not in Forks. Maybe he wasn't from around here? Tucking away that little theory away for later, Jason shrugged. "I borrowed all the glue in the supply closet and put it in a bucket." He paused. That part never sounded bad. It was what he had done after with the bucket — filled to the brim with sticky glue — that had gotten him into serious trouble. "And then I shoved half of it into Adrian's pants and the other half all over his stuff." Another pause. "He's a dimwit." Satisfied with his explanation, Jason reached into his Batman themed school bag and pulled out four plastic containers. Two for him and two for the other boy.

The clear rectangles were chock full of lunch meals worthy of a cookbook — Francesca Sinclair always making sure that her grandson had the best — and it was more than he could ever eat by himself. Each container had its own unique content: the first one loaded with thick macaroni and cheese, the second one holding a BLT sandwich with Italian bread, the third one filled with Chinese inspired fried rice, and the fourth one carrying a chicken drumstick and buttered mashed potatoes. "We're missing lunch so take your pick. You get two. I get two. I've got some brownies and gingerbread cookies for later too." Pulling out some plastic cutlery, Jason handed a fork and spoon pair to the other boy. "The principal's gotta be on lunch break by now so we have time."

He blinked. "I'm Jason," he added as an afterthought. Jason felt a little strange after having spoken so much. It was really unusual.
 

The setting changes from Role play IC to Some small town in the US

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jason Christopher Sinclair Character Portrait: William Flint Character Portrait: Noah Salt
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deleted due to wrong placing

The setting changes from Some small town in the US to Role play IC

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jason Christopher Sinclair Character Portrait: William Flint Character Portrait: Noah Salt
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William Flint! shouted someone, William opened his eyes and wondered where he was. William gazed down and recognized his desk, William grew white; he had again been caught sleeping in Mr Hoff's class.

Just as William stood up the bell sounded and the rest of the class began leaving in droves, William also began to make his way out of the class when Mr Hoff stopped him.

"William, how many times has it been? four in one week? you are missing important material! just look at your last test! hardly above the passing line!"

William remained silent and Mr Hoff sighed clearly frustrated with him but also somewhat saddened.

"William, until a few weeks ago you where doing exceptionally well in your studies. What is it that makes you so exhausted? you come to school so tired as if you do not sleep at home at all... is something wrong?

William remained silent, it was not Mr Hoff's business. William would not let him ruin everything after going so far... he had to prove his strength and crying to the teachers about it would only make things worse anyway.

"I am sorry William i can't let this go unnoticed, you will have to see the principle. If i can't get some answers from you then i am left with no choice but to grant that task to a person of greater authority"

William just nodded, Mr Hoff had been more then fair with him; for the past few days Mr Hoff did not report him to the principle because he liked William however even that patience was bound to end at some point.

"I am unable to take you there at the moment since i have all this homework to go through but I trust you William to go on your own initiative to the Principle's office, please do not make me reconsider my trust in you. I have already sent word about the situation so all you have to do is wait until your turn

William remained in thought for a moment, father had taught him that what made a promise where not the words but the heart of the person who said them. A promise was An oath, it was a sacred bond between the soul and the truth but more importantly a promise was no mere understanding between mortals; it was the battlefield between light and darkness, of the forces of heaven and the hoards of hell.

Lord God was witness, Lord God was judge and To Lord God each promise was made. The true of heart where the forces light while the deceivers, oath breakers, liars an betrayers where the forces of darkness. A single promise was the difference between heaven and hell.

William sometimes wondered if God truly noted each promise he and every other human made on planet earth but one fact he could not deny; a promise was honor and honor was life. A promise was his word of honor and William was proud that he in the face of so much struggle and opposition was still seen as an honorable man.

William considered Mr Hoff's words before nodding and stating clearly his words so there could be no doubt to what he had said.

"I will go to the Principles office and wait there until i am granted an audience" said William, he was now bound to do the task just as his soul was now bound to the truth.

Mr Hoff nodded to William but he was already busy with the piles of papers he needed to examine... and decipher; some kids made a hard job nearly impossible and William sometimes wondered how Mr Hoff was able to keep on schedule with so much on his plate.

Before leaving the room William knew that he had to say something; Mr Hoff had defended William and William knew that Mr Hoff did not have to do so.

"Mr Hoff... i would like to... emm what i wanted to say was... Thank you sir"

William now rushed ahead towards the Principle's office, he did not want to see Mr Hoff's reaction; that would be way too embarrassing.

It did not take long for William to make his way to the offices; the school was not very large since Forks did not have the population to justify a large school. William entered the waiting room and saw that there was quite a crowd in the room, this was going to be a long wait indeed.

William walked and stopped once he noticed the secretary; she was a new one and fairly young also but that was not William's concern.

"Excuse me, Mr Hoff sent me here for a talk with the principle. can you please add me to the waiting list?"

The secretary nodded and looked down at the list

"you are William Flint right? please take your seat; the principle will not be with you for some time yet i am afraid"

William nodded and took a seat as far away from the others as possible, he was most certainly in no mood for conversation.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jason Christopher Sinclair Character Portrait: William Flint Character Portrait: Noah Salt
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When Aidan came by to harass the girls, Eryka couldn't help but keep her eyes on her sandwich. She could feel the heat flooding to her face and knew she was turning colors. She cursed her Russian heritage, for her porcelain skin was so fair that any slight emotion would, quite literally, paint itself along the canvas. She nibbled on her food once more, nodding at Emma when she acknowledged Eryka's suggestion about the piano. And then Aidan neared them both to tease his sister's hair with his fingers and further manage to annoy her.

Eryka dared to look up at Aidan as he stole some of Maddie's food and popped it in his mouth, then look at gorgeous Everleigh with an expression that was slightly amorous. Unbeknownst to Eryka, the Russian watched him a little longingly, until he shot her a quick wink and her composure began to crumble. Her heart sped up significantly, which in turn made her breathing a little difficult, but not notably so; the heat in her face intensified, flushing her pink cheeks to a deeper shade of scarlet, and her dark green eyes quickly shot back down to her hands, now beginning to tremble. The butterflies in her stomach were morphing into some larger creature - perhaps something akin to a pterodactyl - and Eryka remained in that lovestruck stupor even after Aidan walked away.

She sighed, but kept her eyes on her food, which no longer seemed appealing. She took a sip of the hot tea in her thermos, gulped laboriously, and focused on pulling herself together. After all, she was sitting next to his sister and by personal experience, she knew it would upset her dear friend if she found out Eryka was nearly in love with Aidan. After a few moments of battling the flush in her face and monsters in her belly, Eryka put down her sandwich and addressed Emmaline.

"Maybe we can play and sing together," Eryka suggested. "I will play whatever you like to sing. No?"

****



Noah couldn't help but laugh when Jason described the level of vengeance he had unleashed on his classmate Adrian. Though Noah was not familiar with the boy, just by watching Jason and already being able to see the extent of his sweet demeanor and kind heart, he knew Adrian probably deserved it. Jason didn't look like the kind of boy to be a reckless bully without a cause, and because that was so similar to Noah's situation, he could already sense a closeness forming.

"Very nice," he snickered, wiping the mud from his face with his sleeve.

He looked back over at his cell mate and immediately his swampy eyes widened. The boy was pulling what looked like five course meals from his lunch bag; little boxes filled to near bursting with delicious looking food, and he was offering to share! Noah couldn't help the happy fluttering in his stomach at the sight of the food, and instantly he decided that Jason was someone he absolutely had to get to know. He couldn't believe the boy was actually offering him not one, but two meals; everyone that Noah came across would write him off as a weirdo or a bad apple. He couldn't help but think that Jason probably suffered the same type of judgment.

"Really?" he asked in curious disbelief, his eyes still wide and joyful. "Thank you, Jason! ...I'm Noah, by the way."

At that same moment, William walked past them and seated himself on a lone bench far from the boys. Noah watched him expectantly, reading his stand-offish aura and recognizing it all too well. Then his gaze returned to the rich looking macaroni - Noah's self proclaimed weakness - and, with his eyes, asked if he could take it. He accepted the utensils gratefully, his brash countenance totally disappearing now with the help of his new friend. A warmth returned to his eyes that had once been ablaze with fury, and his frown softened into a happy grin. It was almost comical to witness such drastic changes of emotion so quickly.

"My family is new here," he continued, then paused at the mention of sweet pastries. "Did you say gingerbread cookies?"

Then he turned and observed William, overcome with a little feeling of guilt. So, excusing himself for a moment, he stood up from his perch on the bench beside his new friend and walked over to the lonely boy with the macaroni in his hands. He knew the boy probably wouldn't want to be bothered, but his mother drilled compassion into him at such an early age that it was almost an instinct now. By nature, Noah felt obliged to share what he had with others who didn't; after all, Jason was kind enough to share with him, and he was a complete stranger.

"Hi," he began softly. "I'm Noah, and that's my new friend Jason. I was just wondering if you are hungry-" He offered the box of macaroni to the boy. "You can have this if you like. Jason won't mind, and it looks very good."