Sodomite

CLOSED (Formally The Coalition)

Solomon

▲ G H O S T

Solomon Acosta

|| 39 || Guatemalan American || Male ||

⋙: Ｒ Ｅ Ｐ Ｕ Ｔ Ａ Ｔ Ｉ Ｏ Ｎ

---

Before the emergence of those meta-humans who would make up the Coalition, Solomon was nothing more than another local boy in the city of Detroit. He was well liked in his neighbourhood and had a reputation for being a good man, one well earned by years of hard work. The prime of his youth was spent slaving in the Dashwood hotel and restaurant to help his mother pay for the college tuition of his younger sisters and when they were both working adults, he switched back to his true passion; music. Solomon trained to be a teacher and was employed in the neighbourhood he grew up in as a music teacher. What with cuts to the arts and declining American schooling system, Solomon spent a lot of time filling in for other teachers and picking up time wherever he could. And then things changed...

Of all the different ways the Coalition have reacted to the limelight, the only one that ever appealed to Solomon was to avoid it. Given his powers and role in the team, it wasn't hard for him to hide from the public eye or downplay his importance. Since learning to project himself, he has ventured into the field but rarely, preferring to stay cloistered in the Watchtower. There are a few photos here and there of him in the field from the early days but given how present the rest of the Coalition are in the public eye, most people tend to either forget he exists or assume he's not a real member of the team. And this suits Solomon just fine, he'd rather be overlooked that focussed upon.

Very subtly, he's also used his influence over all thing technological to craft his public persona. Reports of him have gone missing or dropped far lower in search results than they should and footage of him always ends up just blurry enough that it's not worth running on a news station, not when there's better quality footage of the rest of the team. Solomon isn't stupid enough to try and erase himself completely, that would bring down more scrutiny than it would avoid, he just makes it less likely that people will pay him any attention. A few people on the fringe have cottoned on to this but none have yet tried to force him into the spotlight, though whether from decency or fear is another question.

⋙: Ｐ Ｏ Ｗ Ｅ Ｒ Ｓ ^{＆ Ｆ Ｉ Ｇ Ｈ Ｔ Ｉ Ｎ Ｇ Ｓ Ｔ Ｙ Ｌ Ｅ}

---

A B I L I T I E S
➝ 𝚃𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚗𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜

Solomon can manipulate technology (defined as man made objects that require electricity to function) with his mind, limited only by his cognition, willpower and imagination. In the course of his time in the Coalition, Solomon has honed his abilities to be able to overcome security precautions, safety settings and even technical limitations. The uses of the power range from turning light off and on to forcing his way inside highly encrypted data servers, from activating a printer across the room to short circuiting a CCTV system on the other side of the city.

➝ 𝙸𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

Similar in practise to Astral Projection, Solomon can project his consciousness across systems capable of transferring information electronically. In effect this allows his mind to leave his body and inhabit the web, existing as an inscrutably complex computer program. This allows him to more accurately use his Technokinesis further from his physical location, as he can use any and all cameras as his senses and not need to worry about sustaining injuries. When projecting, Solomon's body shuts down and exhibits similar symptoms to a coma.

➝ 𝙲𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

Since the emergence of his powers, Solomon has become more and more able to integrate computer code, in any coding language, into his mind and read it as a normal person would text. This is essentially an extension of Technokinesis, allowing him to remember or 'store' code in his mind perfectly, to be replicated at a later date or simply examined at leisure. A use for this would be, for example, to infiltrate a computer system, copy information, return to the Watchtower and then display that information on one of the Coalition's computers.

C O M B A T
Given his physical insignificance in a combat situation, Solomon prefers to avoid getting into the thick of things. Before he understood how to project his mind, he preferred to just stand around the corner and support the team via the area's technology. Since developing that power, however, he's mainly stayed back at the Watchtower and deployed his consciousness to follow the team to wherever the action is. When there, Solomon is more of an enabler and supporter than a shaker and mover. He makes things easier for his allies and griefs their enemies, turning every piece of technology around on them. If the fight happens outside of the city, however, he's not much help at all.

Solomon's true strength is in preparation and research, finding out whatever the Coalition needs to know about their foe or a location. There's little information that can hide from him for long, whether it's behind encoded walls or buried in a sea of meaningless dross, he'll find it and bring it to light. While he was initially somewhat hesitant to subvert privacy and the law in order to aid his allies, he has grown to take the view that what he does for the Coalition, he does for the greater good.

⋙: Ａ Ｐ Ｐ Ｅ Ａ Ｒ Ａ Ｎ Ｃ Ｅ ^{＆ Ｐ Ｅ Ｒ Ｓ Ｏ Ｎ Ａ Ｌ Ｉ Ｔ Ｙ}

---

L O O K S & S T Y L E
As he carefully avoids going out into the field, Solomon has never really had the need for a costume, something that he likes to joke about. After all, what sort of a costume would a ghost wear? Instead, he dresses the same as he does normally; like an art student that suddenly came into wealth. He likes baggy jumpers, thick woollen scarves, unusually patterned shirts and all the other things you can find at the back of the rack in a local second hand shop. Since joining the Coalition and having a slightly bigger budget to buy clothes with, he's gone from picking up whatever seemed to fit, was comfortable and was cheap to pretty much whatever catches his eye. While going out in public, however, he goes for understated, unthreatening, any set of clothes that will help him be less remembered than the others.

P E R S O N A L I T Y T R A I T S
➝ 𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜: "Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back."
➝ 𝙸𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝: “We either make ourselves miserable or strong. The work is the same.”
➝ 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜: "For it is in giving that we receive."
➝ 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎: “To keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself.”
➝ 𝙼𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚢: “Melancholy is sadness that has taken on lightness.”
➝ 𝙾𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐: “I come in a world of iron... to make a world of gold”
➝ 𝚂𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐: “When I discover who I am, I’ll be free.”

⋙: Ｆ Ａ Ｍ Ｉ Ｌ Ｙ ^{＆ Ｒ Ｅ Ｌ Ａ Ｔ Ｉ Ｏ Ｎ Ｓ Ｈ Ｉ Ｐ Ｓ}

---

F A M I L Y
➝ 𝚁𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊 𝙰𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚊: Single mother of the Acosta clan, very proud of and scared for her son.
➝ 𝙱𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚊 𝙰𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚊: She may be second child, but she's still first in command of the family.
➝ 𝚃𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚊 𝙰𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚊: The baby and family overachiever, coming home only to put up another plaque on the wall.
➝ 𝙰𝚕𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚘 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚣𝚊: Drunken uncle, good for a laugh but asks for money and avoids work like the plague.

A S S O C I A T E S
➝ 𝚅𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝙳𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚍: Family friend, gave Solomon his start in life and has held it over his head since.
➝ 𝙱𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗 𝙱𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑: A musician and local hell raiser, has a tab in every bar and a girl on every street.

Y O U R L I F E S O F A R

➝ Born the firstborn son of Guatemalan immigrants.
➝ Grew up loving music and American culture.
➝ Father died when he was nine, of an unknown illness.
➝ Worked to help pay for his sister's college fees.
➝ Eventually did teacher training.
➝ Had a job as a school music teacher.
➝ Quit his job to join the Coalition.
➝ Has been diagnosed with Huntington's disease, told no one so far.

⋙:Ａ Ｎ Ｙ Ｔ Ｈ Ｉ Ｎ Ｇ Ｅ Ｌ Ｓ Ｅ

---

I've always loved Superman but Midnighter is my current kick.

Face claim: Oscar Isaac
Text color: Steel Blue

CLOSED (Formally The Coalition)

@lovely complex@Silent Observer@Universorum

Solomon

▲ G H O S T

Solomon Acosta

|| 39 || Guatemalan American || Male ||

⋙: Ｒ Ｅ Ｐ Ｕ Ｔ Ａ Ｔ Ｉ Ｏ Ｎ

---

Before the emergence of those meta-humans who would make up the Coalition, Solomon was nothing more than another local boy in the city of Detroit. He was well liked in his neighbourhood and had a reputation for being a good man, one well earned by years of hard work. The prime of his youth was spent slaving in the Dashwood hotel and restaurant to help his mother pay for the college tuition of his younger sisters and when they were both working adults, he switched back to his true passion; music. Solomon trained to be a teacher and was employed in the neighbourhood he grew up in as a music teacher. What with cuts to the arts and declining American schooling system, Solomon spent a lot of time filling in for other teachers and picking up time wherever he could. And then things changed...

Of all the different ways the Coalition have reacted to the limelight, the only one that ever appealed to Solomon was to avoid it. Given his powers and role in the team, it wasn't hard for him to hide from the public eye or downplay his importance. Since learning to project himself, he has ventured into the field but rarely, preferring to stay cloistered in the Watchtower. There are a few photos here and there of him in the field from the early days but given how present the rest of the Coalition are in the public eye, most people tend to either forget he exists or assume he's not a real member of the team. And this suits Solomon just fine, he'd rather be overlooked that focussed upon.

Very subtly, he's also used his influence over all thing technological to craft his public persona. Reports of him have gone missing or dropped far lower in search results than they should and footage of him always ends up just blurry enough that it's not worth running on a news station, not when there's better quality footage of the rest of the team. Solomon isn't stupid enough to try and erase himself completely, that would bring down more scrutiny than it would avoid, he just makes it less likely that people will pay him any attention. A few people on the fringe have cottoned on to this but none have yet tried to force him into the spotlight, though whether from decency or fear is another question.

⋙: Ｐ Ｏ Ｗ Ｅ Ｒ Ｓ ^{＆ Ｆ Ｉ Ｇ Ｈ Ｔ Ｉ Ｎ Ｇ Ｓ Ｔ Ｙ Ｌ Ｅ}

---

A B I L I T I E S
➝ 𝚃𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚗𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜

Solomon can manipulate technology (defined as man made objects that require electricity to function) with his mind, limited only by his cognition, willpower and imagination. In the course of his time in the Coalition, Solomon has honed his abilities to be able to overcome security precautions, safety settings and even technical limitations. The uses of the power range from turning light off and on to forcing his way inside highly encrypted data servers, from activating a printer across the room to short circuiting a CCTV system on the other side of the city.

➝ 𝙸𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

Similar in practise to Astral Projection, Solomon can project his consciousness across systems capable of transferring information electronically. In effect this allows his mind to leave his body and inhabit the web, existing as an inscrutably complex computer program. This allows him to more accurately use his Technokinesis further from his physical location, as he can use any and all cameras as his senses and not need to worry about sustaining injuries. When projecting, Solomon's body shuts down and exhibits similar symptoms to a coma.

➝ 𝙲𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

Since the emergence of his powers, Solomon has become more and more able to integrate computer code, in any coding language, into his mind and read it as a normal person would text. This is essentially an extension of Technokinesis, allowing him to remember or 'store' code in his mind perfectly, to be replicated at a later date or simply examined at leisure. A use for this would be, for example, to infiltrate a computer system, copy information, return to the Watchtower and then display that information on one of the Coalition's computers.

C O M B A T
Given his physical insignificance in a combat situation, Solomon prefers to avoid getting into the thick of things. Before he understood how to project his mind, he preferred to just stand around the corner and support the team via the area's technology. Since developing that power, however, he's mainly stayed back at the Watchtower and deployed his consciousness to follow the team to wherever the action is. When there, Solomon is more of an enabler and supporter than a shaker and mover. He makes things easier for his allies and griefs their enemies, turning every piece of technology around on them. If the fight happens outside of the city, however, he's not much help at all.

Solomon's true strength is in preparation and research, finding out whatever the Coalition needs to know about their foe or a location. There's little information that can hide from him for long, whether it's behind encoded walls or buried in a sea of meaningless dross, he'll find it and bring it to light. While he was initially somewhat hesitant to subvert privacy and the law in order to aid his allies, he has grown to take the view that what he does for the Coalition, he does for the greater good.

⋙: Ａ Ｐ Ｐ Ｅ Ａ Ｒ Ａ Ｎ Ｃ Ｅ ^{＆ Ｐ Ｅ Ｒ Ｓ Ｏ Ｎ Ａ Ｌ Ｉ Ｔ Ｙ}

---

L O O K S & S T Y L E
As he carefully avoids going out into the field, Solomon has never really had the need for a costume, something that he likes to joke about. After all, what sort of a costume would a ghost wear? Instead, he dresses the same as he does normally; like an art student that suddenly came into wealth. He likes baggy jumpers, thick woollen scarves, unusually patterned shirts and all the other things you can find at the back of the rack in a local second hand shop. Since joining the Coalition and having a slightly bigger budget to buy clothes with, he's gone from picking up whatever seemed to fit, was comfortable and was cheap to pretty much whatever catches his eye. While going out in public, however, he goes for understated, unthreatening, any set of clothes that will help him be less remembered than the others.

P E R S O N A L I T Y T R A I T S
➝ 𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜: "Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back."
➝ 𝙸𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝: “We either make ourselves miserable or strong. The work is the same.”
➝ 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜: "For it is in giving that we receive."
➝ 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎: “To keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself.”
➝ 𝙼𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚢: “Melancholy is sadness that has taken on lightness.”
➝ 𝙾𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐: “I come in a world of iron... to make a world of gold”
➝ 𝚂𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐: “When I discover who I am, I’ll be free.”

⋙: Ｆ Ａ Ｍ Ｉ Ｌ Ｙ ^{＆ Ｒ Ｅ Ｌ Ａ Ｔ Ｉ Ｏ Ｎ Ｓ Ｈ Ｉ Ｐ Ｓ}

---

F A M I L Y
➝ 𝚁𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊 𝙰𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚊: Single mother of the Acosta clan, very proud of and scared for her son.
➝ 𝙱𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚊 𝙰𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚊: She may be second child, but she's still first in command of the family.
➝ 𝚃𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚊 𝙰𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚊: The baby and family overachiever, coming home only to put up another plaque on the wall.
➝ 𝙰𝚕𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚘 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚣𝚊: Drunken uncle, good for a laugh but asks for money and avoids work like the plague.

A S S O C I A T E S
➝ 𝚅𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝙳𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚍: Family friend, gave Solomon his start in life and has held it over his head since.
➝ 𝙱𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗 𝙱𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑: A musician and local hell raiser, has a tab in every bar and a girl on every street.

Y O U R L I F E S O F A R

➝ Born the firstborn son of Guatemalan immigrants.
➝ Grew up loving music and American culture.
➝ Father died when he was nine, of an unknown illness.
➝ Worked to help pay for his sister's college fees.
➝ Eventually did teacher training.
➝ Had a job as a school music teacher.
➝ Quit his job to join the Coalition.
➝ Has been diagnosed with Huntington's disease, told no one so far.

⋙:Ａ Ｎ Ｙ Ｔ Ｈ Ｉ Ｎ Ｇ Ｅ Ｌ Ｓ Ｅ

---

I've always loved Superman but Midnighter is my current kick.

Face claim: Oscar Isaac
Text color: Steel Blue

CLOSED (Formally The Coalition)

@lovely complex
I'm considering making a technomancer character, maybe one who's now more like a ghost in the machine than a person, but I'm not it'll be done by the end of the weekend, is that alright? Should be done by early next week, if you'll still be open by then.

@Fabricant451
I was considering doing a character that doesn't have a physical body, more like Cortana from Halo or Jarvis in the MCU, but then I saw your intimidatingly good really cool character sheet. Would it be stepping into your character's area or stealing your style to make another bodyless character?

Recall: The Second Omnic War (An Overwatch RP)

@Solo

Abracadabra! [Theater-Based Slice of Life]

The sight of dawn breaking over the horizon, thought Noa, was one of those pleasures worth losing sleep over. He stood on the steps of his little house, a mug of midnight black coffee in one hand and a bagel in the other. The pale light of early morning sun washed over him like chill water, washing dreams from his mind bringing him entirely into the here and now. For a few seconds, he closed his eyes and tried to sense some warmth on his skin, some sense that the new day would be warmer than the long night.

He’d barely slept, tossing and turning before eventually deciding to give up the ghost and just get up. The cupboards were mostly bare, containing only enough food for a modest breakfast, or several large ones by anyone else’s standards. He’s sat at the kitchen table in the dark, eating and drinking in almost complete silence, hearing only the occasional sound of a forlorn bird or confused fox. When he glanced at his battered watch, he realised he might as well take in the morning sun, given that he’d beaten it in getting up.

So there he sat, sipping coffee that could kill a horse and wondering whether the local 7/11 would be open yet. Being the neo-hippy nature lover that he was, he generally disdained the place in favour of locally grown, organic goodness but needs must when the devil drove away all the food. The only other thing on his mind was how to kill time until 9:00AM, when he was expected at the The Lawrence Theatre for a company meeting.

A part of him wistfully considered blowing it off, maybe scrounging up a few dollars and catching a bus someplace else. He could go north, lose himself in the woods for a few days, or south, there was bound to be a river or a lake he hadn’t swum in yet. The voice in his head suggesting these things was small at the moment and easily squashed, but he knew from experience that it wouldn’t be gone for long. Without distraction, without action, it grew and grew until he could hear nothing else. It was probably his own fault, he had listened to almost exclusively for many, many years and that was like feeding a wild animal; it only got hungrier.

Thinking of hunger, he swallowed the last of his coffee, wolfed down the last bite of breakfast, stood up and stretched. A complicated series of pops and clicks later, he shook himself off and stepped back inside. Whatever else he decided, I might as well fit in a run. Even on a less than fulfilling breakfast, Noa could run a marathon and be ready for more, yet another talent picked up from years of uncertain living. Breakfast used to be a much less certain proposition from day to day so he’d gotten used to working hungry and using the dream of lunch to power through hard work.

The run wasn’t more than an hour or so, just around the neighbourhood a couple of times, but it put some life into his limbs and got the blood moving. More importantly, it moved the day from ‘so early that’s it’s practically still late’ to ‘if you absolutely must’. A few windows were opening, a few lights were flickering on. Some people were already hurrying off to work, some were just stirring because the light was now that off a proper day, though the summer sun rises indecently early.

Noa’s neighbourhood was a mixed bag of poor families that worked manual labour jobs, poor families that worked jobs off in the nearest big city and poor families that didn’t work any sort of job. The houses were cheaply made things, thrown up for the minimum cost available when St. James had last been booming. Now they housed only those spent little time at home, those who couldn’t afford better and artists who would accept ‘fixer-uppers’. He didn’t mind though, it was an excellent opportunity to practise his carpentry and an excuse to wear the messy work clothes at home that he would’ve be wearing anyway.

He was about to leave the house with a tote-bag, intent on refilling his cupboards with as much food as he could carry back, when his mobile buzzed. It was an ancient thing, the sort of Nokia artefact that made people instantly assume you’re a drug dealer and that it’s your burner. Actually, Noa had been using the phone for a couple of years now and was yet to see the point in switching to a more modern one. After all, this one could send texts, make calls and could even access his email account. What more did a man need to communicate with?

buy me lunch later
don’t have food need to go shopping

From: Snow White Tan

With a chuckle, he tossed aside the bag and sank into a battered armchair. He’d rather wait until after the meeting and shop with Ziggy in the city centre (such as it was) than stump off to the local place. She was so direct, he reflected, seemingly unworried about saying what she wanted to do and telling him where to turn up. It was probably why they got on so well, given his more aimless approach to life and disinterest in command over others. That voice at the back of his mind started up again, pointing out that she wasn’t the sort of girl who’d wait for him to turn back up after a sojourn on the road but he ignore it again.

Instead, he killed time around the house for a little while, cleaning up a few pieces of stray wood and hoovering the section of the house where he was gradually repairing the damaged walls. The whole house was something of a project, one he was enjoying, but it did make a near constant mess. When the time came, he stepped out, didn’t bother to lock the door and went into the garage. Sitting therein was the one other extravagance; a beaten up and broken down motorbike he’d taken to calling the Guzzler. He wouldn’t trust it for a cross country trip or anything that required real reliability but it was a quick way of shuttling back and forth between the theatre and the house. And when it broke down, there was always the bus.

Today, however, it cooperated and reluctantly sputtered into life. The trip to the theatre was uneventful, it still being early enough on a Saturday that there weren’t too many cars on the road. He tucked the Guzzler away in the alley behind the Lawrence and strolled in the side entrance. There was Art sitting on the stage, looking as attractively dishevelled as ever, and Ziggy, standing behind the director with her arms crossed in her signature stance of mild impatience.

”Morning glorious leader. And to you too Art.”

▲ OVERWATCH: A New Era. ▼ (Overwatch Roleplay)

Regrettably, or perhaps not, I'm leaving this roleplay. As I prefer to try not to derail threads by airing my business in the OOC, most of the issues that have led me to this decision have been brought up in PMs but it boils down to a fundamental disagreement about player agency and importance in open roleplays like this, which came about after some information about the upcoming Overwatch missions was shared with me.

I hope all the players find what they're looking for in this game and that the roleplay continues to do well.

@Vicier
Please remove my sheets from the character tab.

▲ OVERWATCH: A New Era. ▼ (Overwatch Roleplay)

I've been a bit distracted recently, sorry about that, but I still don't think I can do a Reaper post. After all, if we want any cross-faction interaction then the missions assigned to Talon agents need to overlap somewhat with those given to Overwatch agents. But there's no information given for the Overwatch missions.

Maybe I'll just write up some missions for the Talon crew that don't overlap, just to get some action for them and break them out of the stagnant breakfast scene, I'm sure I can think up a few ideas.

Abracadabra! [Theater-Based Slice of Life]

Noa Wilson

^{Male | Thirty-Four | Pansexual}

𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Something about Noa's appearance brings to mind short, sharp adjectives, blunt one word descriptions; feral, wild, imposing, rugged, rocky. It's something about his untamed hair, impenetrable gaze, 6'3" form and built frame that leaves people needing something direct to describe him, like a label to help you deal with all that... thatness. After all, it's not every day you encounter someone who dresses like a fashion conscious 18th century fur trapper, talks like a particularly charming stand-up comedian and moves like a punch-drunk bear.

The first thing you notice is just how damn big he is, towering over most people and constructed like a a Biology diagram meant to illustrate where all the muscles are. Then you register that majestic mane of flowing hair, clearly too powerful to be tamed by scissors, clippers or any mundane tools. Depending on the time of year, Noa's locks might be longer or shorter (he likes to cut it down in the summer) but his mighty beard is constant. Then there's his eccentric dress sense that ranges from vaguely sensible, if a bit hippy, right up to gear that mountain hunter would be proud to wear. Years of living on the road have given him a taste for hard wearing clothes that can survive a few scrapes and hold a few patches, and he's yet to find a reason to change styles.

A reasonable initial reaction would be to feel a little intimidated by this gargantuan bearded behemoth, cowed by his size and rough appearance. But any such reaction is quickly undercut by how welcoming, warm and wholesome he is. The thick beard is almost always split by a smile, the dark green eyes always marked with a twinkle and the deep booming voice constantly shaking with laughter. It's most obvious in children, who tend to shrink back from Noa when they first see him but after a few minutes of being talked to, mercilessly tickled and tossed in the air (often in front of semi-horrified parents) they're giggling and demanding more playtime. Almost the same thing happens with adults, though there's not as much tossing, tickling or playtime. For the most part.

Many years of travelling have given Noa both a hard to place accent (a little brogue here, a little cajun there, a dash of drawl and more than a pinch of husk) and a varied vocabulary. He's never stayed in one country long enough to properly learn the language but he's picked up words and phrases here and there, some of which have crept into his everyday parlance. Despite taking up so much physical space, he tends towards taking up very little verbal space, as his deep voice carries well even at low volume. When enjoying himself a little too much or wrapped up in the moment, it gets louder and louder, to the point it rattles the rafters.

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬
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Noa looks like a bear and, in a sense, he is one. Not one of the wild ones that mauls hikers though, more like one of the massive stuffed cuddly ones that doting parents buy their children. Upon meeting a person, he sizes them up with a frown, a firm handshake and a firmer stare. If he likes what he sees, and he almost always does, he roars with laughter and claps them on the back. And from that moment on, he treats people like they've known each other for years, trading jokes and stories, rough housing ruthlessly and lovingly poking fun. It's a 0-to-100 transition from stranger to friend that some people find terribly disconcerting or even a little alarming. It's very difficult to hold anything against Noa though, especially when he's grinning at your from under his beard and his eyes are daring you to top whatever outrageously false story he's just told.

At his core, Noa is a simple man, a man who wants what we all want. He likes having friends around him, laughing loud and long, enjoying those pleasures life has to offer and keeping responsibilities at a distance. If anything, it's that last thing that separates him from other people the most. Your average person doesn't like responsibility, doesn't love being tied down or depended on, but accepts it as a part of life and takes it on the chin. Not so for Noa, who has carefully sidestepped every responsibility more arduous than a supporting role in a failing theatrical company for the better part of a decade. After all, it's hard to be obligated to do anything if you don't stand still for long enough to be asked. His mother imparted much of her own personality onto him and it was her encouragement to be free and happy that Noa took to heart most.

It's not commitment phobia, exactly, he's just found it easier to move on than deal with the complicated messiness that comes with being a functioning member of society. As a drifter, you answer to yourself, work when you need money, eat when you're hungry and move when you're bored. When you take root, as he put it, you've got to work all day and answer to everyone from your boss to your spouse to your kids. It would be pretty accurate to attribute this immature view of society to unresolved grief and guilt over the death of his mother, as his wanderings started only a few days after her funeral, but Noa tends to sidestep that sort of question with just as much ease as he does everything else. He'll deflect it with a shrug, a grin and a shove before turning the conversation sharply elsewhere.

𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦
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✓ Children, dogs and dogs that are children.
✓ Strong ales, beers and ciders, best with snacks.
✓ Working hard, working out and pushing himself.
✓ The outdoors, the sea, the open road.

✗ Boredom, hunger and discomfort in general.
✗ Airplanes, too small and cramped to ever use.
✗ Juice, sweets and overly sugary foods.
✗ Dust, stale air and the smell of decay.

𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬
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Born in Hawaii to a native mother and an American-Irish father, Noa grew up near Honolulu in relative comfort. His father, David Wilson, had an office job and his mother, Alanna Inoke, was a school teacher so their little family was well looked after. The younger brother to two independently minded sisters, Noa spent a lot of his youth either joining in with whatever games they wanted to play or finding his own entertainment. The happy family was displaced when Noa was six, however, by a job offer. His father accepted a new position in St. James, Indiana, and packed up the family with him. The new town wasn't as warm, as open or as friendly, at least from the viewpoint of the children, and they initially found it hard to forgive their father for disturbing the fragile balance of the family unit.

Still, the kids were all rich in moral fibre and soon bounced back, each finding their own unique groove in their respective habitats. Kimi, the oldest by four years, was full of sass and sarcasm and soon found herself a comfy niche as one of those judgemental popular kids while Inoa, older than Noa by two years, was more of a studious sort. She was hard working and dedicated, rising the top of her class by a mile spending her spare time on the running track. Youngest of the three, Noa was always his mother's favourite and she passed on her adventurous nature to him most of all, making him a ringleader and troublemaker. Many was the time Alanna whisked the family off to some new unknown place for the weekend, leading them off into the wilderness or into the depths of an avant garde art gallery.

Things were disrupted again, a decade and a half later, when the results of a long overdue medical test came in for Alanna. She had pancreatic cancer and it was further along than most people recovered from, the young pale faced doctor told them. Kimi had left home and Inoa was on her way out but both returned home with all speed after the diagnosis arrived, flocking to their mother to comfort her. Alanna, however, had other ideas and sent them running back to their lives with a terrible scolding. She wouldn't let them come home to wallow in self-pity and grief, not while they had jobs and families that needed them. She maintained she needed nothing but fresh air, some good food and to be allowed a little peace.

Over the next few years, her health slowly left her and the wild spirit that had raised three proud children withered away. She spent a lot of time with her only son in that period, her care entrusted almost entirely to him. Having finished an apprenticeship as a carpenter at the time, he decided to ignore her commands to go out and find something more fulfilling than looking after a dying old woman and stayed by her side. Sometimes she seemed grateful, sometimes she seemed disappointed but she always enjoyed his company. For his part, David kept working long hours and doing all he could to make his wife comfortable. He had always been follower in their relationship and now it seemed he could not follow Alanna any further, leaving him lost.

When Alanna died, the funeral was an informal affair that was practically rushed in order to get to the wake. It was what she would've wanted, after all, and the party was one to remember. But within a few days, Noa had bade goodbye to St. James and hit the road, a lightly packed rucksack on his back and endless wanderlust in his heart. His mother's commands that he get going and see the world had been heard, no doubt, and now he was living them. As a big man in good health, he found it wasn't hard to find short term jobs quickly, so long as you didn't mind doing the dirty ones. And so he made his way across the North American continent and then over to the Europe and then Asia. He never stayed still long, only long enough to earn what he needed to make the next leg of the journey before moving on further east, chasing the rising sun.

Three years ago, he arrived back in the states, tanned, bearded and bone-tired. His father saw him at the front door and let him in without a word. The two didn't speak much, neither having found the intervening decade's activities particularly effective in dealing with the loss of Alanna. Noa's sisters came and visited, alternating between scolding him for his long absence with nothing but sporadic postcards to reassure them of his good health and asking him to share stories of his adventures. Eventually the conversation turned to what he'd be doing now and they didn't find any of his answers particularly satisfying. One of them, Inoa, told him that things would be the worse for him if he didn't find a job by the end of the week and knowing she wasn't kidding, he grumpily set off to find something.

What he found was a struggling theatre company named Abracadabra. He'd never acted before and had no training but he knew how to make things out of wood, could lift whatever needed lifting and had more than enough self confidence to strut the boards once someone taught him the words. Since then, he's spent most of his time with the company, though he's disappeared with little warning a few times and spent a few weeks on the road. Recently, he's abstained from doing that for one reason; a burgeoning relationship with the new set designer Zdzisława "Ziggy" Gniewek.

𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦
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● Confidence: Noa has no qualms about putting himself out there, making jokes at his own expense or doing something that takes guts. It helps on stage when playing a role that's more pantomime than theatre or just to overcome the initial stage-fright.

● Strength: Years of hard labour and an enjoyment of the great outdoors have given Noa a herculean physique that he'll happily use for the benefits of others, like helping Billy with the sets or Dominic with moving the piano.

● Charming: Obviously no one person appeals to every other person but Noa comes pretty close. His friendly nature, laid back attitude, lack of shame and, more importantly, lack of fear regarding humiliation make him a hard man to resist liking.

● Crafts: Before deciding that travelling was easier than standing still, Noa was trained as a carpenter and his experience in the years since have given him the gift of putting stuff together on a shoestring budget and in fifteen minutes, if necessary.

𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦
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● Restless: Noa has a hard time sitting still for long periods of time, both literally and metaphorically. He's a fiddler and a mover but also has a string of spontaneous 'trips' to his name that speak to his dislike of stillness or stagnation.

● Rowdy: While he treats everyone like a friend, Noa's version of friendly back and forth isn't suited to everyone. He's physical and loud, so those who prefer not to go close to others or like the quiet are probably going to avoid him.

● Singing: You can sort of act through confidence but getting up on stage and singing takes training, time, skill and dedication. Noa hasn't put in the first two and doesn't have the second two, so he's been barred from singing roles.

𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗦
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Handyman – If something needs lifting, chances are that Noa can probably lift it. Apart from lifting, moving and other low skill labours, Noa still remembers most of his training as a carpenter from years ago is a dab hand at fixing up the stage or the props.

Character Actor – Although he has no training or education, Noa's got enough confidence and sense of humour to play any of the less subtle characters needed for a show. He's got ambitions towards more nuanced roles though, and would like to be a leading man at some point.

𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖.
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He would love to play Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet and thinks that after some more time in the company that he might make a good Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire.

Abracadabra! [Theater-Based Slice of Life]

It's like you're begging me to call you out for ruining muh aesthetic.

@Jacobite

Go on then.

I think it looks fine and it's very readable, at least give me credit for not making it eye-burny again.