#noa | conversations.

[amcbrisce]

LOCATION: the old haunt, the bar FOR: open! ( 0/3 )

WHAT FEELS DIFFERENT ABOUT this particular gig? she isn't quite sure. her relationship with music had become far less complicated over the years, but the guilt, the pain, the regret still clung to her. it gripped to her shoulder, nearly froze her in her tracks. regardless, as the curtains fall her feet carry her in the direction of the old haunt -- still clothed in her performance gown. the only part of the ensemble that may appear even remotely casual was the leather jacket draped over her shoulders. frankly, she couldn't help but wonder what the other patrons must be thinking of her. she got stood up. that one has a story. regardless, she keeps to herself. not a single word uttered between her perfectly-glossed lips, except for a simple martini order before returning to her silence. with a nod of appreciation, she takes a sip -- noticing someone looking to her out of her peripheral. being a paranoid woman made her external vision strong as could be. she places the glass back on the table, not yet turning. " i know what you're thinking. " she eventually speaks, gaze eventually during to face her onlooker. " gee, she looks pretty dolled up to be spending time in a dive bar. " after pausing, she continues. " it's quite alright, i would be too. "

[amcbrisce]

@mystvcs

LOCATION: noa's home, afternoon FOR: adelaide derosiers

NOA HAD A RATHER complicated relationship with her life's work. music was all she knew. however, since she'd entered death -- playing had felt like freedom. there was no one looking over her shoulder, no one reminding her that because of her talent, the world would always be out to get her. instead, she was now surrounded by people who made her feel safe. why couldn't she have met people like adelaide, who was sweeter than sugar -- while she was alive? she could see it now, just how much emptiness that would have been excersized from each regimented day.

she remembered the first time adelaide had come up to her as clear as day -- to tell her that her music made her see something. quite frankly, it had taken some time for noa to become less suprised by the residents of portum, for she had once been nothing more than a mortal woman. going about her life, establishing a career. the only reason why she was here was because her life was cut short. and the worst part? they didn't know by who, or why. while she had been a prodigy, a mind above the rest -- a fixture for individuals to need from.

the teakettle whistles on the stove, bringing noa back to reality as she realizes she's been hyperfixated on it. watching the steam billow. with an oven mitt on one hand, she carries the kettle to the living room, where a coaster and two sets of china are waiting. in her other, mitt-less hand? a selection of tea bags. " i wasn't sure what would be to your liking, my dear, so i brought the whole basket. " while noa's smile may be small, it's completely genuine. the people she's met here make smiling far easier than it used to be. " give the kettle a moment to rest, the last thing i want is for you to burn yourself. "

[amcbrisce]

@silkeared

LOCATION: rosie's diner, corner booth FOR: ender jackson

NO TRANSITION IS EVER easy. a transition into death on earth, however? there was no other kind of pain like it. while the rest of the earth turns, your world is still stationary. portum was a solace. a place where you could start fresh, turn the page -- even if you wanted to continue writing the rest of your story. an involuntary chapter. she had over a decade to pick up the pieces. and while she had spent most of that in isolation, a pariah when she wasn't performing -- she had come around to the idea of being a mentor, of sorts. offering care without being too forceful. perhaps one of the first things she had noticed about the younger woman, was that she was far more confident than she. but, where they were certainly similar -- they were both protective souls. fighting for their afterlives to keep from getting hurt again.

while she waited for ender to arrive, noa found herself fixated on her tea. coffee had always made her far too anxious -- leaving her hands shaking like a pair of leaves in the wind. the other woman makes her presence known before she even enters the room. the power of her confidence is palpable. it takes her a moment for her to stand, placing the bottle of honey on the table before doing so. " it's good to see you, ender. " she smiles gently. she isn't quite sure if the other woman is open to hugs yet -- therefore she makes no movement to potentially push the boundary. " order whatever you like. it's on me. "

[amcbrisce]

@macabr3s

LOCATION: white oleander FOR: theo sinchai

IS THIS WHAT THE romantics do? pick out a collection of flowers? i was just passing by, they had a beautiful collection in the window and i just -- she can hear the scrambled mumbling now. was it best to practice? maybe so, but the entire ordeal just felt woefully dramatic. instead, she'll take the time to examine the surrounding blooms. it was clear they were well cared for, well loved. perhaps it's why noa finds a certain amount of difficulty in choosing what to augment the star of the show with. what flower says you are what keeps me here? the realization still sits along her chest like a weight, not that she could ever find herself complaining. however, she can't help but wonder why. why now, after she had slowly begun to resign herself to the reality that her time in portum was coming to an end -- had she been sent a sign? perhaps the other woman has been standing there for far longer than noa would care to admit -- perhaps having said her name before. curse you, penchant for daydreaming. " ah -- so sorry. it's so easy to get lost in thought in this place... i've always found flowers to have a similar beauty to works of art, but they're given to us naturally. "

[amcbrisce]

@brazyspirit

LOCATION: the old haunt FOR: koda jackson

PERHAPS NOA CAN BLAME her recent rise in attendance to the old haunt as there being something in the air. that she deserves a break from all the questions she's been asking herself -- even if she never quite gets one. what the fuck was happening in this place, after what noa could only assume to be a lifetime of solace? what was keeping her here? well, at least that was a question she had a couple of answers to. the younger ghosts, who looked to her for an understanding of themselves. she was fooling herself if that was the only answer, considering there was a single pair of chocolate-brown eyes staring back at her every time she closed her eyes. pippa. she had been given more to truly live for in death -- ironically enough, than she had in life. her fingers grasp a hair tighter around her cocktail glass at the realization, momentarily bringing the last sip to her lips. it's quieter tonight. " excuse me -- " she questions, once she gets the bartender's attention. she recognizes him -- from somewhere. " i'll take another if you'd be so kind... that is, unless you have something back there that will render the mind silent. at least for a little while. "

[amcbrisce]

@mistbled

LOCATION: potion and pentacle FOR: lian adersley

CALL HER EVER THE curious, but noa had always admired the power of magic. perhaps some may say her existence as a soul is magic all in itself. and yet, the idea of witches and their overwhelming power still felt new to her. they were amongst her friends, her coworkers, even the simple strangers on the street. that part she had become used to. however, noa posessed an analytical mind, something that hadn't seemed to go away in death, nor amongst what many would call gifted kid burnout. it had been how she was taught growing up, to research. to search for understanding amidst the facts. the sound of the bell overhead draws her attention to her surroundings -- the smell of incense and dried flowers. is she sure where to start? certainly not. perhaps the charms of protection, as they're so labeled. they'll need all of it they can get in the coming days. at least, that's what noa seems to fear. she nearly jumps as she feels a presence behind her -- body soon turning in the direction to face her. " my apologies -- for a being once told to haunt and induce fear, i startle far too easily. " she laughs, shaking her head. " i'm sure you've seen many an individual taking a look at these beautifully crafted pieces, no? "

[amcbrisce]

@silkeared

LOCATION: hallowed grounds, the day after the bonfire. FOR: ender jackson.

NOA HATED FEELING AT a loss. after twelve years of trying to make something out of the new life she had been given -- going to great lengths to become someone others could turn to in times of crisis.. there she was, without the answers. searching, just as they were. did they expect her to have all the answers? likely not, even if it was a help. but it was an expectation she had fully placed on her own back, a burden she had deemed herself to carry and be responsible for. she had almost expected something to happen. it was a reality that wouldn't seem to leave her alone as she awaited her coffee -- not always necessary for a woman of her being, but more of a treat than anything else. there are certain people in this town who's presence she feels before she sees them. ender is one of them. as her gaze turns, she can't help but smile. " hey, you. " noa begins. seconds later, her iced latte is placed on the marble counter. " i didn't see you at the bonfire. if you went, i trust you had a good time? "

[amcbrisce]

@m0rbidity

LOCATION: the bonfire. FOR: perdita ortero.

EVEN IN SPRING, WHEN everything was supposed to be returning to life, noa still noticed a deathly chill in the air. perhaps, she wondered, it was just another reminder that this was her afterlife. that everyone else around her had a vessel to live within. however, deep down, she was confident it was something else. that while the world kept spinning, she would forever remain the same. wandering through this evolving world, a relic of a lifetime ago. it's a thought she's reminded of as she's separated from anyone even remotely familiar -- some of whom will age. who will grow, and will eventually experience a day where they will leave this world. will they stay here, like she will? or will their business be unfinished? somehow, for her at the very least, existentialism doesn't seem to appear in times of normalcy.

" it's a beautiful night, isn't it? " noa eventually speaks. she's seen the individual next to her before -- considering her frequency to be surrounded by art. in passing, but enough to feel comfortable to say something. " i know it feels like there's a lot to worry about... but we all deserve even a second of comfort amidst the fear. "