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Noel Fairchild

"It's time the bud nipped back."

0 · 350 views · located in The Vigilante Village, Tennessee

a character in “The Vigilante Village”, originally authored by ~Evil Cream Puff~, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description




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{"Aww! Don't be such a goodie-goodie!”}
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|{Full Name}|
Noel Fairchild

|{Age}|
17

|{Sexuality}|
Unsure/Open

|{Hometown}|
Cottonwood, Arizona



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|{Appearance}|
Noel awkwardly stands at 5'7" though he appears shorter due to his rather poor posture. His subtle slouch walks the line between wanting to disappear and wanting to be noticed by others. As such, a childish pout is usually Noel's neutral expression. His grey-blue eyes are sharp and angular, hiding beneath an unruly mop of dirty blonde hair. His body is thin; fit but not because of any extra effort on his part. Noel's posture and demeanor make him appear more frail than he actually is.
The boy's wardrobe consists mainly of secondhand or worn clothes. His dingy denim jackets, ripped jeans, and beaten sneakers suggest that it's been a while since Noel did any clothes shopping for himself.

|{Powers}|
.Chlorokinesis. Noel's superhuman abilities enable him to control plant life. Early stages of this power include the ability to move plants or cause them to grow at an exponential rate. Noel can manipulate anything from simple grass blades and flowers to more sinister (and effective) samples such as vines, thorned and poisonous plants. At higher levels of proficiency, Chlorokinesis allows the user to mutate plant life into grotesque new specimens. Noel also seems to possess plant empathy and can communicate (on a very basic level) with many species of flora.

|{Hobbies || Talents}|
Plants, plants, and more plants. Noel spends most of his time around any given species of flora. He sees plants as equal to, or perhaps even superior to most humans. As such, his ability to nurture and care for them is unmatched. Aside from his obsession with all things green and leafy, Noel can be found ditching class, sulking around, or people watching. A lifetime spent on the outside looking in, socially speaking, has molded the boy into a perceptive, observant individual. He enjoys reading, although he is quite picky when it comes to book selection. He also enjoys antagonizing others and often gives people endearing, if insulting, nicknames.


|{Fears || Weaknesses}|
The young man is quite a fearful sort, although he would be disgusted to acknowledge this. He is constantly worrying about how others perceive him. This manifests itself as an odd sense of over confidence and mock apathy. It is much easier for him to pretend his fears do not exist than it is to face them and accept himself.

Noel is of average intelligence at worst, but finds it all too easy to become confused or sidetracked. His emotions are his greatest weakness, as he feels no need to control them. A more direct weakness to his actual abilities would be extreme heat or cold, as they both greatly affect plant life. He is also seemingly powerless in areas that are void of any plants. Noel also has the average strengths and weaknesses of a boy his age and size.
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|{Personality}|
At once, Noel comes off as troubled. What's more is that he seems to be aware of this and embraces his faults, choosing to indulge in temptation and live on a whim. He is often curt to those around him and takes pleasure in belittling others. He can also be extremely childish, commonly picking on people and throwing tantrums when things do not go his way. Mentally and emotionally unstable, Noel seems to experience every emotion to the extreme - and his mood swings abruptly change without warning. If it can be seen as redeeming, however, the boy is as sincere and genuine as can be. He keeps very little hidden and has no problems with expressing himself.

Despite his constant mood swings, certain traits seem to remain true to the boy's personality - Noel shows enough positivity to prove that he has the capability to be a good person. Wanting to fit in and have friends to talk to is a common fantasy of his. The young man has been known to openly show kindness, compassion, and generosity. These qualities are, sadly enough, frequently clouded over by negativity. Although Noel sees himself as better than most other people, he has a tendency to develop obsessive, almost romantic feelings for those he feels have bested him.

It appears as though tormenting others and invoking negative emotion in them (much like his own outbursts) give Noel a sense of pleasure. He has an odd duality of low self-esteem and over-confidence. Noel also has a tendency to give people insulting (albeit playful) nicknames, despite the fact that he dislikes his own name. To say he is a bully is not sufficient. The vibes most people get from the young man are unsettling yet somehow fascinating, like a disturbing painting that becomes hauntingly beautiful the more one looks as it.

As strong as his personality may sound, Noel sometimes lets on that he is much more fragile than people think. The day may come when his unstable mind could shatter, leaving him broken beyond repair. Above all else, he seeks approval, and longs to attach himself to someone worthy of his loyalty. However, it is unlikely that even Noel himself is fully aware of his desire for acceptance, love, and companionship.




|{History}|
The fifth of six children, Noel lived a peaceful if uneventful life the small town of Cottonwood, Arizona. He was a happy enough child, save for occassionally feeling left out amongst his rather large family. He quickly learned of his ability to manipulate the plant life around him and soon took to keeping potted plants in his room. Eventually, he began to view them as pets rather than decorations. This manifested into a warped sense of superiority for the boy. He believed himself to be above his siblings and other children, instead choosing to isolate himself and seek attention from plants, continuing to develop his abilities. His parents didn't seem to notice.

When he started school, Noel's attitude problem clashed with the other students and he found himself ridiculed and teased by them on a daily basis. The constant bullying reached a boiling point one day when Noel decided to take a shortcut home from school. He was followed by a group of the boys who bullied him and soon Noel found himself surrounded and at their mercy as they slung both insults and punches. It was then that Noel became fully aware of his surroundings. In the far reaches of his mind, a voice called to him. Noel would later describe this as not a normal speaking voice at all. It was more like emotions being transferred straight into his mind. Following instinct alone, the boy gathred his courage and pushed one of the assailants into a nearby thorn bush. As if he were in a trance, Noel felt instinct and adrenaline course through his body. Soon, the gnarled vines of the bushes began to creep about his attacker's neck. Like some kind of faceless snake, it curled around and around, thorns digging deep into the young man's flesh as his eyes swelled in fright. Fully aware that he was controlling this, Noel refused to let up as his long-time bully choked and gasped for life, his face turning a delicious shade of blue. The other children either ran away crying or merely stood in awe. Noel continued to stand and stare, gaze transfixed upon the face of his prey. Nothing more was said. Nothing more was done.

He doesn't remember anything else about the incident, and sometimes questions whether or not it truly happened at all. Something changed inside Noel that day. It was as if his entire being shattered when he saw what he was capable of. The Noel Fairchild that everyone knew had vanished, being replaced by scattered fragments of emotion bottled up inside a troubled young body.

Noel's actions caught the attention of the Vigilante Village, whose representatives kept a close watch over the boy. Lacking any particular goals, he eventually agreed to attend the grounds with the excuse of furthering his abilities - Chlorokinesis they called it. In all actuality, Noel took his first steps into the Smokey Mountains with the desire to quell his social starvation over developing his superpowers.



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|{Face Claim}
River Phoenix

Character Dialogue || #330066

So begins...

Noel Fairchild's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Khufu Nemesokar Character Portrait: Perdita Winkler Character Portrait: Nike ReMere Character Portrait: Kennedy MacClaire Character Portrait: Alexa Toretti Character Portrait: Sara Castitas Character Portrait: Joel Stone Character Portrait: Peter Alkaev Character Portrait: Nathan Maris Character Portrait: Lucian Blight Character Portrait: Seraphiel Lien Thompson Character Portrait: Lily Maris Character Portrait: Matt Alkaev Character Portrait: Mihyo Yoo Character Portrait: Kian MacClaire Character Portrait: Joseph Craven Character Portrait: Noel Fairchild Character Portrait: Desmond Walters Character Portrait: Cara Cadwalder
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{ Day 1 ~ Orientation }




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The silver car decreased its speed once it came to the sandy, decrepit parking lot of the campsite. A rustic country fence separated the far-off cabins from the clearing, and the rolling Smoky Mountains of Tennessee were looming overhead like watchtowers. The sky was blue, cloudless, and welcoming. Everything was calm and quiet.

The golden-haired girl turned off the radio as she leaned towards the side window next to the passenger’s seat. She placed a hand on the glass, her eyelashes flitting faster than the wings of dragonflies as she processed the colors, the textures, and the sounds.
Joel stopped the car in front of the fence and turned off the engine.

“Well this is it,” he said after a few moments of silence. “You’re finally here. You made it.”

She gazed out the front window, her hands tugging at the bottom of her simple white v-neck. Her eyes darted around in their sockets, taking in the last of the scenery.

“There’s no one here,” she muttered.

“That’s because I had to get here early in order to help with the orientation,” he replied. “Just wait a couple of minutes, and this entire camp is going to be packed. Trust me.”


She shifted in her seat a little, uncrossing her legs and tightening her grip upon the pink crystal in her hands. It was her good luck charm, but he didn’t know that.

He placed a hand on her knee. “You nervous, Perry?”

She sucked on her lower lip. “A little, yeah,” she said with stiffened breath.

“Don’t be. You’ll get along just fine here,” he reassured her for the tenth time. “You’ll make friends and as soon as you know it, this place will become your second home. That’s what happened to me. That’s what’s happened to every single person who’s come here. You think I’m crazy now, but just you wait, Little Miss Perriwinkle.”

Giggling a bit, she turned her head to face his beaming visage. For a moment, he almost looked her age.

Jumping out of her seat, she wrapped her arms around him, and he did the same. In those few seconds, they were as inseparable as conjoined twins. They shared the same blood, the same heart, and the same mind, and although they were seven years apart, they practically shared a soul.

“Thank you, Joel Stone,” she muttered, almost feeling tears behind her eyes. “Thank you for everything.”

Their arms still around each other, he patted her on the back, his eyes gently closed. “No problem,” he said. “I figured you needed this. I’m sure you need this…”

Finally, they both released their grips on one another, and began to gather their things. She put the pink gemstone in her pocket, while he popped out the Led Zeppelin album from the CD player and put it back in its case.

She opened the door, and could feel the intensity of the fresh country air waft into her nose and beat against her alabaster skin. Joel opened the trunk, and quickly, the two of them grabbed their suitcases. Once they had everything, he locked the car, and led her through the gateway; two wooden planks with a sign on top that read VIGILANTE VILLAGE – EST. 1986. The letters were composed of white hemp cords that looked as though they would never fade away despite their years in the rotting summer sun.

Cabins and wooden huts that looked as though the Cherokee had built them circled around the man and girl as though they were in the middle of some ancient European square. He led her to a bulletin board near a large flagpole. There were two banners waving at the top. The first, obviously, was the American flag. The second was colored a light blue and contained a decorative crest composed of steel, seven stars, and a shield.

“That’s the flag for the W.A.O.H.: the World Association of Official Heroes,” Joel said once he noticed that her head was trained upwards. “They’re the ones who provide the funding for this place.”

He pointed to a paper on the bulletin board, which was green and had a bunch of slots for people to write their names in.

“When you find a place you want to room in, just remember to come back here and write the number of your cabin, and then your full name.”

“Okay,” she said. “Don’t know if I’ll remember that, but I’ll do it.”

He nodded, and their eyes locked. The caramel highlights within Joel’s dark hair glinted like gunmetal in the shimmering sun.

“Alright, Perriwinkle…this is where I leave you. Unfortunately, I have important matters to attend to.”

She snorted. “Important my ass!” she teased. “It’s not like you’re in the Bronx chasing after crooks and shooting up drug lords. You can unwind, y’know. We’re in the South now.”

She had said her last sentence in a drawl that partially mimicked his. He laughed and placed both of his hands on her shoulders.

“You’ll understand someday…when you’re in the same position as me and mentoring some little spunky girl with wind powers.”

She snorted again. “That’s a stupid thing to do! Why would I ever do that!”

They hugged again, although not as tightly as before.

“I’ll see you later, Perriwinkle,” he said before quickly disappearing into the dust.

The girl tightened her grip on her suitcase, twirled her lucky stone around in her denim pocket, and without delay, chose a path.

Every so often, she would look left and right, making sure that nobody was following her or that there were no ghosts around to haunt her or anything. Eventually, she found a cozy-looking cabin situated just underneath a large basswood tree. There was a small plaque on the door that had the number ’12’ nailed upon it with wooden planks. Since ‘12’ was a lucky number of hers, she took it as a sign to go in.

The creaky door slammed behind her, and the smell of pine wafted into her nose. The temperature was surprisingly cool and comfortable, and there was quite a lot of light. She smiled at the sights of the sofa, coffee table, and full-size refrigerator behind the island counter near the backmost wall. This wasn’t your regular, crappy, mosquito-infested cabin that she had read about in children’s books.

She groaned when she saw the sight of the ladder leading upstairs to the beds. Still, it wasn’t a skin off her back. Tightly grabbing onto the handle of her rolling suitcase, she propelled herself into the air with a large blast of wind, and gently floated down like a dandelion seed until her feet reached the second floor. With all her strength, she lifted her suitcase up upon the edge of the farthest bed, and curled her body onto the remaining part of the mattress.

This was it. This was the first time she would be in a place of social interaction with kids her age. It was tragic to think about, but it was happening and she was scared and excited and at the same time, contemplating why she was alive.

It would be an adventure far more entertaining than the ones she had created on the streets of New York.

Hearing sounds coming from outside, Perry lifted herself off the bed and scurried to the nearest window. She watched the teens her age pass by with wide eyes. She wanted to greet them, but at the same time, felt like a queen safe inside her castle tower. So in that moment, she decided to stay inside. Perhaps she didn’t need to go up to them. Perhaps they would come to her…




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After leaving Perdita, Joel put both of his hands inside his jean pockets and sauntered towards the staff cabin. He had important matters on his mind, but at the same time, hoped he would be able to fool around with old friends and meet some of the new staff that had been hired during the spring.

Once he came to the large cabin that almost looked three-stories high in length, he produced a pair of silver keys, twisted them through the lock, and walked inside.

It was dark, meaning that no other staff members besides him had been inside the building yet. However, that still didn’t mean that Clover Collins, the lascivious woman in charge of the Vigilante Village, wasn’t inside her office.

He came to her quarters and knocked on the door, which was about a quarter of the way open.

“Clover?” he called. “It’s me, Joel. Are you in here?”

He pushed upon the knob a bit and realized that there was nobody home despite the fact that the lights were turned on.

Right away, he noticed the envelope upon her desk that had his name written on it in bright red letters. He strode into the room, which smelled heavily of lipstick and jade incense, took the envelope between his hands, tore it open, and read the letter inside…

Dear Joel (or if you’re not Joel, which I doubt you are, whoever may be reading this),

I am currently away in Georgia dealing with some important, confidential matters that are of no importance to you or anyone else. While I am gone, I ask that you take care of the camp for me in my absence. God knows how little I do for this godforsaken place anyways. You folks practically keep the site in one piece. Make the kiddies happy and entertain them as best you can. I’ll be back in a day or less. (Hopefully…)

XOXO and a lick or two,

Clover Collins


He folded it and placed the letter, as well as the envelope, back upon her desk. He raised a brow. Important matters? The vagueness of it all planted a seed of suspicion inside his head. Clover Collins was not a woman to trust easily. It was no secret that she had been a cold-blooded killer in her past life; working with a band of deadly assassins who had occasionally affiliated themselves with the mafia. Yet, somehow, she was let off the hook and eventually elected the leader of the Vigilante Village. She was charming, headstrong, and down-to-earth, but certainly not clear. Her motives were unreadable. Her true opinions, well…those were things that only the good gods above knew.

And yet she depended on him. She let him know what was going on, despite the fact that they hardly ever talked. Still, there was a tone she used whenever she talked to him that never failed to place tension in the air. She used charismatic words and gestures whenever she saw him, yet at the same time, her cat-eyes always glared at his with malicious irises that just screamed distrust. She didn’t like him. He knew it. He didn’t care why she didn’t like him, but at the same time, he wanted to know why…

Snapping out of his thoughts, Joel searched through the drawers of her desk until he found a green clipboard and a ballpoint pen. He grabbed a couple of the papers from inside the filing cabinet in the back of the room, and headed back outside, where he sat upon the front porch steps of the staff cabin.

The papers he had attained from Clover’s office had the names of the campers on them, their powers, ages, hometowns, and physical descriptions. There were even a few pictures next to the names of teenagers who had attended the camp in previous years. Relaxed and sturdy, Joel clicked the pen and languidly watched the kids enter the Village. As he checked off the names of the young adults who arrived, he finally had the feeling that this summer would be a great one.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Khufu Nemesokar Character Portrait: Perdita Winkler Character Portrait: Nike ReMere Character Portrait: Kennedy MacClaire Character Portrait: Alexa Toretti Character Portrait: Sara Castitas Character Portrait: Joel Stone Character Portrait: Peter Alkaev Character Portrait: Nathan Maris Character Portrait: Lucian Blight Character Portrait: Seraphiel Lien Thompson Character Portrait: Lily Maris Character Portrait: Matt Alkaev Character Portrait: Mihyo Yoo Character Portrait: Kian MacClaire Character Portrait: Joseph Craven Character Portrait: Noel Fairchild Character Portrait: Desmond Walters Character Portrait: Cara Cadwalder
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Sara watched as the trees whisked past. Majestic boughs stretched over her, casting dappled shadows that fell behind her as she ran. The battleaxe and twin hammers strapped to her back and thighs, respectively, gave her incredible stamina. She smiled and leapt agilely over a fallen log, the knives inside her robotic leg lending her speed and and adding height to her jumps. Sara slowed and her power core hummed and glowed as she caught her breath.

Feeling her semi-machine lungs expand to accommodate more oxygen, she sighed contentedly as she gazed at the wooden signs with the familiar words emblazoned in white- VIGILANTE VILLAGE – EST. 1986. Smiling and readjusting the bag on her back, Sara walked into camp.

She wandered around, weaving contentedly between the cabins she remembered so fondly. She briefly contemplated how many of her old friends would be gone.

Sara sighed and headed towards her favorite place in the entire camp- the arena. She couldn't wait to train, and with her new armory of this year, she was well prepared to kick some serious butt. She walked into the ring, drawing a scimitar and throwing down a small doubloon-looking coin. The coin shimmered and started to billow out in gold clouds that looked quite a bit like cotton candy. Sara tapped into her machine, enabling her aimbot and damage meters. The golden pirate that had emerged from the tiny coin lit up in colors, much like a heat detector.

Sara grinned- she'd been training with this small device almost all year, and it knew her style. A real challenger to her battle skills. She watched her opponent's color readings closely for indication of an opening. They circled, and with a quick feint and roll to the side from the cyborg, the battle was on.

The golden warrior leapt back, his agility and ability matching hers. Sara held her scimitar towards the pirate, and as expected, he attempted to disarm her by slicing at her wrists. She drew up the blade almost instantaneously, deflecting her opponent's blade and flicking it to the ground, immediately seizing his openings and stabbing down where his unguarded arms were.

He leapt backwards into the air, his agility enhanced as he did a flip. "Just like something I'd do," Sara muttered to herself. "I'm such a show-off." She swept as his ankles as he landed, slicing his left foot clean off and the right severely maimed. The pirate hobbled towards her, his speed and agility decreased but still retaining his brute strength. She exchanged a flurry of parries and thrusts with the warrior, eventually chipping off his fingers and a large chunk of his abdomen. He seemed to be behind today.

Landing a few more lucky hits, the pirate eventually sputtered to a stop, and Sara drew a small handgun and shot him in between the eyes. The pirate shattered into golden shards of glass, which shivered and flew up into the air, meshing and landing in Sara's palm as a coin once again. She exited the arena, her adrenaline and excitement for the new year pumping. She rubbed her warm power core in between her shoulder blades, and meandered towards a large tree where she leapt vertically into its welcoming boughs. She sat, dangling her feet- one metal and one flesh- over the edge of the thick limb. She watched the entrance, noticing campers begin to wander in.

Feeling her power core finally cooling down, she set her path in a beeline to her cabin of last year- Cabin Twelve, under the basswood tree. She pushed the door open hesitantly, listening for sounds and emotion. She sensed a feeling of brief wonder from upstairs.

Shrugging, Sara walked into the huge living room, swiftly scaling the ladder with silent footsteps. Slinging her bag down again onto a bed with no regard to the assorted deadly weapons and bombs contained inside, she quietly approached the girl.

"Hello! I'm Sara. Second year here at the Village. What's your name?" She offered a friendly hand to the girl, who had a seemingly innocent face and wide, doe-like eyes. Sara smiled- this girl was a whirlwind of emotion that she had no care to decipher.

The cyborg girl only knew that this new camper held adventure and memories-to-be in store, along with everyone new this year.