I NEED A NOISE: A NOISE BIBLE

POST-TOWER

The New Normal

No. He did not go back to his former life, far from it in fact. Whether it was by fault of the human mind or Pizzahead’s bullshit chaos magic at work, he could not for the life of him remember his information to any of his old social media accounts. It’s not like he could really go back to his former glory if he did, since absolutely no one (spare two people) recognized who he was and would assume the channel got hacked. Indeed, he was forgotten like any other fad in humanity’s modern zeitgeist and was rendered much lower-class than he was before. Noisette functioned as the main breadwinner of their apartment for a while, somehow receiving moderate success for her cafe despite her strange food items. She also made income with the local fairgrounds near the tower’s hometown, which Noisette would sell her treats there whenever it was running. They still struggled with money of course, but at least they weren’t homeless like the Doise was.

While he was settling in with his new life, the Bo Noise appeared for a proper conversation once more to suggest seeing the situation as being “reborn”. The Bo Noise was always attention-grabbing, but typically the Bo Noise appeared to just be goofy and annoying, spouting some nonsense a Hannah-Barbara character or a random xd “cringe worthy” teenager on the internet would say, so for the little guy to switch into a cryptic diction caught the Noise’s ear. Furthermore, what an interesting thing to remark! It had some merit to it, too. Sure, the Noise has yet to become an entirely new person, but his old life has been washed away from him, barring him from causing the same amount of harm he did before. Of course, that in turn affects his range of good he can do, but it could still be seen as the kind of second chance being reborn provides. This is not another case where the Noise is left scott free, however. The people he’s hurt still remain, burdened and traumatized. His former fanbase still snickers at jokes similar to his brand of humor and they remain uncritical. And these aren’t facts that just linger in the Noise’s head, but rather people she finds herself interacting with still.

The Noise blamed his somewhat regular visits with Peppino on the fact that they lived in the same apartment building and the small size of the town they occupied, but the Noise certainly grew a fondness and fascination for the guy. As previously mentioned, this was mostly developed due to Peppino’s basic kindness during the collapse of the tower. The Noise often probed, poked, and harassed Peppino in some shape or form in order to understand him better and out of old habit. Logically, this treatment only made Peppino angry, reminding the Noise’s of his impact on the people around him, but he’d only hide his slight guilt with a stupid grin.

Not all these people from his past were people he deliberately interacted with. The Doise, who turned eighteen around this period, would sometimes chat with the Noise whenever he was out and about, as if she was an old best friend trying to reconnect. The Noise was surprised to see that Doise survived being abducted by that wretched beast. These interactions happened fairly often since the Noise went off to dick around because he would be unemployed for a while. However, they would gradually happen less and less frequently for a reason the Noise was not aware of. As these interactions went on, the Noise would be once again unsettled and wondered what he had done to get someone to act like this, once again formulating a sense of pity he would try to hide.

Although he spent much of his time doing nothing, he still felt particular burdens with being lower class. With being lower class comes less privileges, and it was certainly jarring and hard for the Noise to adjust to not getting everything he wants object-wise. It made him feel an emptiness he wasn’t used to–not the emptiness of simply feeling nothing, rather but the emptiness of missing something. As a result, he yearned for Noisette’s affection more and more. Additionally, being unemployed was very boring and even isolating at times, which is why he went out and about rather frequently in this period. Finally, the risk of losing their apartment and other such conditions did leave him and Noisette a little anxious, as it would with anyone.

The stresses in his life proved to be prevalent, and Noise got sick of it, eventually trying to win back his former fame. He tried streaming, short form content, other such “slop” churned out by the internet and did so with many cartoon antics… but he was not winning that fame back. It felt a little embarrassing for the Noise, honestly. Made him feel like some stupid kid. He didn’t do this too many times, since he eventually got the memo that he was a dead fad in the internet’s vast sea. Honestly, what difference could I make at this point?

Burdens of Being the Dream

The beginning of life after the tower has also caused some distress between Noise and Noisette–at least for Noisette. She had an overwhelming amount of love towards the Noise, but that didn’t stop her from having some grievances with him. Like stated before, she was aware of some of the Noise’s horrible actions and struggled to communicate her concerns to him. She knew it should be acknowledged and worked on, but she’s also aware that the Noise can be a pretty stressed out person at this point in time so she tends to hesitate. She also feared his disapproval or some kind of worse conflict enacting because she mentioned her concerns.

The Noise’s demands for affection alongside her job becoming more demanding, though she loves both, has left her overwhelmed and exhausted. Furthermore, the two were having sex practically every night, overall making Noisette feel like a tool rather than a person. It’s not like the two didn’t always have sex often, those two always fucked like rabbits, but this period involved a lot more sexual intercourse. The Noise was a massive pervert, having a lot of kinks, most of which he’s too embarrassed to admit to at this point in time. A particularly relevant one for this topic is his femdom kink, in which Noisette tops him every single session to fulfill this fantasy. She usually didn’t mind this, but when in excess it made her feel masculinized, an uncomfortable feeling for her as a trans woman who didn’t have bottom surgery. She made the unpleasant realization that she feels like she lacks identity outside of being the Noise’s girlfriend (which is true by concept, but her feelings are still valid), making this period incredibly stressful for her.

Fortunately for Noisette, she would eventually gain the courage to confess her grievances with their relationship, though her general grievances with him were not mentioned. The Noise was surprised that this made him sad instead of putting him in a panic like some of the criticisms he’s heard towards him recently. It seemed like he managed to do something he perceived as impossible.

The moment had disproven a false idea of his and told him a simple, yet hard to fathom fact: Noisette is a person. No. She's yours, she’s your fantasy… yet she loves you like a person. While it had set in already, this was the thing that firmly solidified that the Noise could not run away or bunker in his deeply dug hole anymore.

Despite this major moment, the Noise didn’t respond to the confession in the most ideal way. He cried quite a bit, aware that if he wanted this relationship to live on he had to give her some space, but he still somewhat selfishly begged Noisette to keep doing what she was doing before. Noisette, uncertain what to say, just patted the Noise’s head as he bawled incessantly. Once it was all let out, the Noise sighed and agreed to give Noisette some space, also admitting that he might need some space to reflect on things. Noisette gave a hug and the two smiled, though both were still weary for different reasons.

The Noise, being a victim of emotional neglect, would struggle to follow this deal, with those mistakes manifesting as little moments of, “oh, you can’t just leave me alone for this long.” The Noise was never the type to get aggressive or deliberately manipulative towards a partner, but the Noise had a way of dragging people down with him. These moments of critique always left the couple in a moment of uncomfortable silence before they continued on with their day. They still chatted and did “couple” things, but they were more prone to keep to themselves for a while.

The two both suffered some sadness from it, but at least Noisette was able to find some peace in being given more autonomy. She often spent her time visiting others, namely the Vigilante and eventually Fake Peppino. In addition, she snuck out at night to explore her fashion sense and even toggled with her entire form as well. While she did enjoy the form she most commonly took, after revealing her more demonic and monstrous side in order to comfort Fake Peppino one evening, she would find beauty in this “true” side.

While she would contort herself during kink and sex sessions with the Noise, she didn’t consider the pleasure she could derive from it. She allowed her “disguise” to slip off more, lounging with a lengthened body, tending to her fur patches, and enabling her face to melt during spouts of laughter. It was assuring to see everybody take no mind to it, probably due to the fact that her peers had witnessed several surreal things in and out the tower. Though she was “othering” herself more than before, it somehow made her feel more like a person. She was at peace. She would eventually remember that her confession to the Noise didn’t cover everything, and, with her newfound soundness, had more courage to properly criticize the Noise.

The quiet period left Noise much more sad and without sustainable peace. Although he was insistent on distancing himself from his old coping habits, he insisted on it too much, causing him to repress and avoid confronting his regrets properly. With nothing in his mind to help him cope with the grief of his former life being lost and upsetting the only person who truly loved him, the Noise smoked much more frequently. It was difficult for the both of them when Noisette came back home from an outing, the balcony stained with the memory of cigarettes and the Noise, as if he was an object unmoved by time, mindless consuming something on his computer. The Noise saw the Bo Noise frequently, though it would be a while until the Bo Noise would actually confront him again. They would often manifest in the etchings reflected by the bathroom mirror, and always had their hand intimately grasping their chest, as if reaching to hold their own heart. The Noise knew that the Bo Noise was trying to tell her something, but he was too exhausted and depressed to really make sense of it.

And Everyone Is the Dream

After a month of giving one another some distance, Noisette her neglected grievance she had with the Noise. Every seam of his body stinged with an anxiety he hadn’t felt in a while.

“Theodore…” oh, she’s really gonna mean it, isn’t she?

“I love you more than anything and I’d never leave you…” the truth’s not even out and it hurts already.

“But I’m not an idiot. It seems like you’re starting to move on from it… but you really aren’t a good person. Every word you say to everyone else, everytime you put people down to put yourself up, everything you enable… I know you did it. I know you did it and I can’t take another second of leaving it ignored.”

She would talk for much longer, getting into specifics that have already been established before. By god, the length of that conversation was grueling for the Noise. Horrifically tense, trembling, yet he could not think of nothing nor could he put any expression on his face.

Only one thing could run through his brain: of course. Of course she who truly loved me knew of my flaws, she who was made for me, she who quelled the cries of my id, she who listened, she who rendered me soft-served yet warm inside, she who is (in some ways) me, she who is undoubtedly human. It was all true. I should’ve listened. She’s a person. Everyone around me is a person. Every single weirdo, bum, troglodyte, tweaker, and degenerate I tormented was a person.

The Noise could not say anything to her for a while, but it became apparent that the Noise was in turmoil. Noisette, though weary, consoled him since it was clear that the Noise would need some guidance–at least for now. After some time, the Noise spoke with an apparent struggle, not due to a trembling voice but due to trying to break out of the stiff state his body was in.

“I think I need some time to process all of this.”

And he went to the balcony to smoke another cigarette. After wallowing and absorbing in the white noise of the outside world, cars dashing exhaustingly to deal with their own busy lives, the Noise looked up to see the faint glimmer of some measly stars that would’ve been brighter if it weren’t for a particular problem hoving over the earth.

The Noise never had much of an interest in astronomy, but he felt compelled to reach out his hand to these apathetic, distant balls of gas. The Bo Noise faded into existence, perched upon his beckoning fingers. After leaving only hints for this entire month, you come in now? Good god, what are you going to tell me now? But at the same time he felt like the Bo Noise had some good timing, and he admitted to himself that now was a time he really needed some guidance.

Guidance was not what it seemed like at first, just more bad news. The Bo Noise, lightly tugging with love at the Noise’s long sleeve shirt, made light about something they had been pondering lately.

“How different was that tower from the real world?” They queried.

“Really. Everything about it was different. Shit like that can’t happen–”

“By what odds does a biased house win? You are no zebra choking on zigzags, just a letter that was pretty close in the alphabetical race. You are a lapdog fed under the table, just another tool in the shack, and…” the Bo Noise suddenly clenched their grip that felt uncomfortably tangible. It continued with the bladed eyes of a bird of prey, “the fantasy was very, very real.”

He couldn’t make sense of the entire thing, but it was true. Those people he annoyed and tormented were distant lives that were inconvenienced far more than him. Hell, how much different was his past life compared to that of the tower? He was pretty rich back then, and he was still rich then too. The Bo Noise’s pondering, of course Noisette’s grievances as well, helped illustrate just how much bad he has done for the world. If it weren’t for him, Peppino wouldn’t hate him. The Doise wouldn’t be trying to get into his life. If it weren’t for himself, he would be a better person.

Fuck. What the hell can he do now? The Noise asked this to Bo and he gave this response:

“I don’t know how you could help other people; I’m only here to help you.” The Bo Noise suddenly placed a tender hand over their heart, similar to those visions the Noise had before. “But… maybe, just maybe, you could draw my fursona at some point.” And then the Bo Noise vanished once again.

What an embarrassing request. If the action didn’t haunt him, the Noise would’ve laughed at the idea. All it did was make him sad… and also a little embarrassed, as if he had a secret about him exposed. If the Bo Noise is only there to help the Noise with his personal problems, then how come they asked for a favor? Then he remembered something.

The Bo Noise would not always appear for guidance. There are many moments where the Bo Noise appeared just to seemingly goof off or be annoying. A specific example of this would be whenever Noise was out and about, the Bo Noise would very obviously frame their own personal craving for a random food as Noise’s own craving. It was a very odd behavior indeed, but he would find himself content after the little snack, even though he didn’t really want it beforehand.

The Noise made some kind of connection in his head, testing the pool waters in a bikini, but it gave him an overwhelming feeling that was too much for him to handle today. The feeling could definitely be described, but oh, if he took a moment to fathom it, it would make him look like a fool. C’mon buddy, it’s cruel to say this after everything but, you wouldn’t want to be like those looney fucks now, would you?

Oh Please Satan, Torture Me Brutally

The Noise quickly escaped his depressive state and entered an anxious one instead. He was rather shaky at times and often found herself struggling to sleep, not always because he was thinking about what haunted him, but rather it felt like his body wouldn’t let him forget that. Sometimes he would engage in compulsive bargaining, though he very much knew it was useless. In some regards, things were better than the previous depressive state since at least Noisette was trying to provide the best support she could, but it was all so daunting for the Noise.

Where do you even begin to mend wrongdoings like that? It’s not like you could get the money for mending these mistakes; that’s shown to be a lost cause. Would it be better if you received punishment? I mean, it would be a rather humbling thing to accept the punishment directed towards you. Oh, that might not be a bad idea. Perpetuating misery’s your middle name, so what use is there for you to try better?

Yes, the Noise was still anxious as all hell even after this revelation, but it seemed like the best solution for his situation to him. He would end up seeking “punishment” in a variety of ways, but his main two outlets for it were through Peppino and Noisette. While he seeked the same thing from them, he would get something rather different from each person. The Noise would’ve also seeked “punishment” from the Doise, but for some reason the Doise wasn’t keen on talking to him like he used to as of late…

Starting with Peppino, the Noise struggled with figuring out how to approach Peppino for this. At first, he stuck with his ol’ reliable of just annoying the guy, but ol’ reliable was also a nasty ol’ habit. He doubled down on it too. He doubled down so hard that it made Peppino suspicious. When it became really obvious that he was trying to get a rouse of the guy, Peppino didn't really respond at all. That’s when the Noise started begging, and these attempts in particular came off as manipulative at times. Peppino still didn’t give a response, didn’t even reprimand him. Just sat there and observed the guy with a furrowed brow. Noise’s plight was vaguely relatable to his own, and it was a reminder that the assholes in our lives are still people. Not people in regards to a deep, sincere compassion, but rather because they are individuals with depth and motives for their actions, whether simple or complicated.

Something about the nothingness of Peppino’s responses frightened the Noise deeply, like the traces of the Bo Noise in every stone he passed. The Noise got desperate, and started frequently venting about his life, hoping that it would convince Peppino to punish him. Nothing. Just observation and some meaningless comments. Even though the lack of any punishment upset and frightened him so, it did not quell the regret in his soul and yearning of his ego.

Meanwhile, he took a different approach with Noisette. They didn’t have sex as often as they did before Noisette’s grievances, but they started having sex again around this period. This time, however, the Noise would request for even more bizarre kink situations. Much of them were surreal and abstract, and can’t really be compared to more well known fetishes. They were all, however, intended to invoke a feeling of peril into the Noise, making him close to believing he was going to die or he was in hell.

One notable (and also particularly absurd) kink scenario the two did was the “demon cave”. Demons are capable of distorting their forms to insane degrees, and this act involved Noisette transforming into this cave-like labyrinth. The Noise would then explore the fleshy “cave” in search of an artifact of some kind and when he got the artifact, the “cave” would unleash its fury onto him, distorting into a nightmarish maze with booby traps made of snagging teeth. The whole thing doesn’t read as a kink and more like a terrible nightmare. You can thank Noisette for actually establishing a safe word for these acts. At first, the Noise did it only to punish himself, namely for what he had inflicted onto Noisette, but he quickly admitted to himself that these acts were also an outlet for sexual pleasure. He ended up not being very guilty about the arousal since hey, he’s only hurting herself with this and not others, right?

The Disappointment of Pain

Noisette didn’t like it, and sensed that this was not what the Noise needed. All it did was make her really uncomfortable once she caught on what he was trying to do. Once she did notice, she quickly expressed her discomfort with the behavior and Noise, doing something right for once, respected her boundary… albeit he was still not happy with it.

The fact that he was falling into old habits with Noisette gave him a clue that he shouldn’t be seeking punishment… at least not from Noisette. The Noise became more hesitant to request affection from Noisette out of guilt, which caused him to start listening to the wants and needs of Noisette more often. Yes, he quickly grew to enjoy it since he got to see his favorite woman in the world happy and deeply flattered, but he was nonetheless dissatisfied that he wasn’t receiving any form of punishment from anyone.

Once Noise gave up trying to get punished by Peppino, perhaps the only “positive” from the two’s relationship appeared afterwards. One day Noise went over to Peppino’s pizzeria to do the same old routine, only to find himself tapping his fingers on the table awkwardly. It was a quiet day for the pizzeria, and Noise hated quiet. Uncertain what else to do, he started a conversation with Peppino, who was at the counter.

“So uh, what turns you on, Italian man?”

Surprisingly, Peppino gave a straight answer. Maybe it was out of boredom, maybe it was out of the belief that the Noise wasn’t going to hurt him anymore. Nonetheless, the man started listing out a tasting of his kinks. Much of it involved getting hurt or harmed physically, blankly stating that it was euphoric for him. He clarified that he only liked getting hurt in a “realistic” manner, and experiencing it “comically” would put him in an episode. While the Noise preferred it more absurd and comical, he was in awe that he somehow found a connection between him and Peppino. The Noise would tell Peppino his kinks in return, which put a mildly amused smile on Peppino’s face. Somehow, they were mutually respectful towards one another, though they would sometimes snicker at a particular kink. They certainly did judge one another in their minds, but neither of them were motivated to say it out loud. Holy shit. I somehow got a good thing going on with this fucking guy. If only I wasn’t an asshole so you’d like me more…

Though the turnouts of these pursuits would bring a happiness to the Noise that wasn’t expected, he was still frustrated and anxious. So much work to do… and he doesn’t have the power to do it anymore. Besides, even the idea of doing that work made him ache, for it would be a difficult, grueling path. It would be better to just get punished. Everyone would like to kick his teeth in for being a sick piece of shit, but for some reason everyone is choosing to deprive him of the suffering he needs. Well, you know what they say: If you want a job done right, you should do it yourself.

The Noise inflicted more emotional harm on himself than physically. He deprived himself of his wants and didn’t often ask for affection from Noisette. He also burned cigarettes out on himself and smoked more, not necessarily to relieve the pain, but to fuck himself over even more. It was miserable, and the worst part of it was that the regret would not go away. He found himself fantasizing about his own hypothetical suicide more, but would eventually try to cut it out since the thought of it was making him euphoric and he didn’t want to burden Noisette with such a depressing act. Nothing was helping. What the fuck am I going to do.

One night he found himself struggling to sleep and was compelled to take a walk around the small city he lived in. Once he found an alleyway, he was compelled to be consumed in its darkness, the uncertain potential of getting mugged or hurt maybe playing a factor in that compulsion. He pulled out a cigarette and took some puffs of it, but he dropped it when he saw a rather fantastic sight.

Ripples of vibrant, luminescent, nostalgic water splattered on the miserable scene. Neon green blades of grass mimicked the movements of a pleasant breeze that did not touch reality. Bright yellow critters sniffed their humanoid noses, peeking out from the dingy artifacts of the alley. The creatures then revealed themselves to be various anthropomorphic Bo Noises, donning the head of the mysterious being on the bodies of animals, mainly foxes and kitties. They paid no mind to the Noise, giggling, dancing, and closing their eyes to embody the serenity that apparently drifted in the air. Despite their peace, they all had a marking in the shape of a broken heart. Perhaps they were searching for peace because of this marking and have found it here, or maybe it will haunt them forever. Nonetheless, it was undeniable that the critters were dealing with it well.

They were all very stupid looking creatures, laughable even. How they dance, how they giggle at their own irrelevant jokes, how they present so strangely… one would think they were absent minded. But no, that was not the case. They had a constant reminder that they were burdened and standing outside the house, yet, despite that, they played an unapologetic game. Stuff like that was always really funny… but now I just want to be one of you.

The Noise stiffly reached out an arm towards the creatures, suddenly gaining the urge to pull his arm away with his other arm when some of the creatures glanced at him quickly. The glance was not made out malintent; they were just a little wary and curious. When he took a step closer to the scene, the ripples of the water exploded as a giant, magnificent, Bo fish leapt from the waters. It languished in the air for what felt like forever, sparkling, bubbly tears escaping from the fish’s eye as it smiled agape. Something about its lingering, yet brief moment in the air filled it with overwhelming glee. Once it was pulled back into the water whence it came, while not as joyous as it was before, it found some acceptance with the inevitable brevity that comes with every emotion. Some of the droplets from the splash kissed the Noise’s face and for a blink he tasted the unapologetic peace that inhabited these peculiar creatures. In that moment, he felt the belonging that you get from a name you chose yourself, the wagging of a tail, and the voice that knew her better than anyone else did.

And within that same blink, everything vanished. And the Noise cried the hardest he did in his life.

Looking into the Mirror

The Noise went back to his apartment with a deep understanding that he couldn’t form into words. The small taste he got of the creatures’ freedom had made him envious, tenderly clenching his heart while in bed.

He suddenly made a connection in his mind. The Bo Noise. Of course. The pieces were coming together. He would have to make some peace with himself in order to redeem himself or something. Some golden rule shit, yeah sure. But if the Bo Noise wants the Noise to find some peace with himself, then what was that whole deal with “drawing that fursona”... wait.

Godammit. As if he was going to allow himself to fantasize about being an anthropomorphic rat. Y’know, one that looks like it jumped straight out of a 90s Nickelodeon cartoon. Maybe the fella has rows of tits like some kind of pig or cat. Hell it’d be nice to have a little something poking out your chest. Oh, to have a tail always at your back to give you some reassurance you’re a weirdo. It’s a good reassurance, something undeniably–good god what are you saying?!

But… Well, it’s real weird, and some people are gonna think you’re weird for that no matter what, yet you shouldn’t let it haunt you like with everything else. Liking cartoon animal people is not on the same level as perpetuating capitalism through the power of philanthropy. Yeah… at least give yourself a little taste of it every now and again; it’s what the Bo Noise would want. Just go to bed now.

A couple days passed and the Noise was already in a mildly better mood than before. She found herself fantasizing more often, toying with touches of that freer version of herself. Noisette took note of Noise's improved mood and was very happy for him, suggesting she give him a treat in some form to encourage his recovery. She acknowledged that she felt guilty about not providing more emotional support during the Noise’s obsession with punishment, but she really didn’t know what she should’ve done in that period. Admittedly, while they would vocalize complaints in a somewhat civil manner, the two had grown a habit of isolating one another afterwards. Yes, some space was needed in those situations, especially for Noisette, but perhaps they missed an opportunity to practice their boundaries or provide mutual needs.

One night later, Noisette treated the Noise to some physical and verbal affection. Noisette enjoyed sweet talking the Noise quite a bit, and the Noise liked this as well. She never did it out of malintent or insincerity, just letting the sap drip from her lips. The voice and words of someone so deeply unapologetic and odd always have a distinct tenderness to it–even the Noise admits this. These gentle words and warming caresses consistently magnetized a smile onto the Noise’s face as he laid there melting into sap himself. She would often do this before the two transitioned into sex, but something interesting slipped out of Noisette that made the loving tension into a tension that tempted to see what’s behind the door:

“Oh Theodore, my girl…”

A wave of an ambiguous feeling shot through all of the Noise’s blood vessels, prying his eyes open and his face reddened with vulnerability. Noisette quickly corrected herself, assuming the Noise was embarrassed. As she spoke, the Noise sat up and looked away from her. The feeling was overwhelming, yet it opened out a hand for the Noise to grab on to as it took him to heaven but… but then you would be wrong about everything! You would have to admit that you didn’t really know yourself like you thought you did. But the Noise thought for a moment… Did he ever know himself? Every time his self was confronted in some shape or form, he ran away or tried to sidestep around the puddle. This strange feeling was familiar in more ways than one, but it suggested that he would have to change everything… usually that would make his heart sink, but it only made it tense up a little at this moment.

The Noise never really had a vendetta against queer people, only a fascination he expressed in the same words as the enemy, thus leading unwary people down the same pipe. This fascination would deepen, and also become more silent observation, when he got with Noisette. She was always a woman to him, and he was surprised that he had never gotten the urge to make fun of her or misgender her when he realized she was trans. In moments where he observed her self expression, it was weirdly soothing to him to see someone find pleasure in something he couldn’t find himself. Moments like those make it seem so, so… desirable.

Admittedly, the Noise did desire some kind of connection to womanhood. He didn’t know why; the idea of associating and being around women made him… happy. However, he did not find much pleasure in the idea of being overly feminine. He always had a fondness of expressions of mischief or rebellion, like a stereotypical skateboarder or a Rat Fink-type feller. He did like looking “tough”, but upon further reconsideration, didn’t find much enjoyment in being a man. The chores and duties of manhood gave him a hidden anxiety in his youth and had exhausted him, which caused him to avoid “practicing manhood” for some years. Manhood just seemed like a facade to put up in order in front of your fellow men so they wouldn’t get suspicious of you. He found more fondness in putting on the facade of zaniness, trying to embody the absurd the best he could. Indeed, he was digging up previous thoughts and fully processing their implications but… what was he?

After several minutes of silence and back pats from Noisette, the Noise apologized for his lack of response and confessed that he was feeling really conflicted about his gender, doing so with noticeable embarrassment. He very hesitantly added a recent thought that he may be neither a man or a woman. He didn’t include much depth to the remark, that stupid “five billion genders” joke latching onto her brain because it was one of many nasty habits. The Noise very much expected Noisette to be consoling and accepting, but still felt like he was going to be punished somehow. Noisette asked if the Noise would like to be nonbinary, and the Noise twiddled his fingers and responded with a “maybe.” The term felt fitting, but he needed more courage for something like that.

It was a difficult and somewhat confusing conversation, but they both went through the effort of having it. The conversation served as one of those moments for the Noise that shows how much patience resides in Noisette. There was tension in the room, but fear or a grudge did not cause it. How alien it was to come out of these serious talks without despair and only self-understanding. He, upon first having that thought, wished he had been shamed or pummelled into misery, but he quickly stopped himself. No. If you cannot help others, then perhaps you should do the very least and help yourself. Once the conversation was over, the two were snuggled up on the couch watching a movie and the Noise now was a nonbinary girl.

The New Noise

The aftermath of the revelation left her embarrassed for a decent while. She would often shrink a little when clarifying to people that she would like to be referred to with he/she pronouns and called “Thea” whenever not being referred to as “the Noise”. It was a little complicated for her; to some degree she could name the reason behind the embarrassment, other times not. I mean, this feeling was to be expected. She built her livelihood off of the fascination and ridicule of this “other” she is becoming, and for her to shimmy on in and meekly declare this updated information only prompts one to go, “how the tables have turned!” It was a good nugget of situational irony… and the joke was on him.

The Noise oftentimes feared the idea of looking like a fool in some shape or form despite engaging in a form of comedy that made her look so absurd. This still brought her anxiety at this point of time, but she was tempted to ponder it more; the fact suddenly became fascinating. Despite the embarrassment that persisted, she felt a sense of freedom and relief in at least entertaining this part of herself without shame. The pleasure was awfully compelling, a scent swaying in the air. How wonderful it seemed… the idea of being such a fool yet persisting on, unapologetically. And for that foolishness to be pure, fun-loving, and utterly strange… Perhaps this is the closest to heaven that the Noise will ever get.

It was around this period that he remembered his passion for making music. While he did toy with music making during his rise to fame and time in the tower (most of which were insufferable YouTuber influencer mixtapes), he was not as fixated towards it like he was when he was a child. Hell, It’s been several months since the collapse of the tower and the Noise has almost completely forgotten about the passion up to this point! These ponderings of the “fool’s philosophy” inspired the Noise to pick up music making again, though this time he would transition his musical style into something rather different. She always had a massive soft spot for fast paced electronic music–think dubstep but also drum&bass and breakcore–and the urge to make music similar to it was proving to be powerful. His mind turned, thinking about songs that had the energy and finesse of both drum&bass and hip hop. It felt good to have a sense of creative passion after over a decade of only pursuing the attention of others. He would upload some of his music onto Bandcamp under the name “DaNoizeMaker”.

Noisette, observant as usual, noticed Noise’s sudden return to interest in creating music, which she found much joy in witnessing the process. The Noise would also notice Noisette observing him from afar, and it would often bring pleasant little memories of when she would hum a tune while working on whatever and whatnot or sing her heart out to harmonies for fun. It was nice to see her happy as much as it was for her to make him happy. One day, after the idea had paced around his head for some time, the Noise asked if she would ever want to do vocals on any of his songs, which she responded with a cheery, yet casual, yes. Noisette would also play a role in some other parts of the music making process, but vocals were her main game.

Making music with Noisette just made the process even better. These moments felt distinctly mutual, and the Noise was surprised that he liked being seen as some kind of equal to Noisette instead of some blubbering insecure nerd who liked it up the ass since he didn’t have a vagina. Indeed, much of their relationship was established through sex and while that does not make it “inferior” to any other type of relationship, it was becoming apparent that it wasn’t always mutual. The shared hobby provided an opportunity for both of them to feel seen and to appreciate one another in different regards. Though she wasn’t as musically knowledgeable as the Noise, she still provided fascinating insights and observations during their process that would make the Noise think to himself, “thank god she’s a person.”

Surprisingly, Noisette and the Noise would garner a solid following for their music, though it was still decently small. Eventually, they would get a brief boom in popularity online when their little tune “World Wide Noise” was released on a single. People ate this shit up, and many a TikTok were made with a clip of the track playing in the background. This is when their following got a lot more “furry” than it already was. While the consumption done by the exposed masses were rather frivolous, a good tune’s still worthwhile, and I suppose you could debate that the Noise did some vague good in releasing a song that did not benefit the lucky and neglected the impoverished majority. While the two were mostly appreciative towards the attention, the Noise would’ve gotten cocky about it if he did not see the song as some kind of magnum opus and wasn’t frustrated that people weren’t analyzing its musical complexity. Well, at least the popularity would win him a steady stream of DJ gigs for furry conventions.

Things were looking bright, and bright in a good way. The self reflection and revelations with her identity had helped the Noise better cope with her past actions, and she had become more wary of what slips out of her mouth. However, she still didn’t entirely understand why specifically some of her past actions were bad. Like, he could give you a serviceable reason for why his former “cringe hunting” behaviors were harmful, but he would give you as good as a reason that a seventh grader could for why philanthropy is unsustainable and not a good way to quell the evils of capitalism. She wouldn’t really read up on theory or take a moment to educate herself, and tended to puppet the silhouettes of leftism, at worst donning it like a Purple Heart as if it was truly some form of action. The flashing lights of the blood pumping rave had revived the Noise, yet made him blind to his former nasty habits that still remained. As if the book about his self healing had ended, he looked towards the dilapidated town that stood at the feet of the hill. Despite mild hesitancy, he was bathed in a holy light and a confident might as he declared:

“It’s about time I tried to actually fix my mistakes.”

Let Me Grant Forgiveness to You by Making You Special

Two particular people were on his mind when he made this decision: Peppino and the Doise. Since he was seeing Peppino on a somewhat regular basis, he thought it would be more important to confront the Doise first. Besides, the Doise had gradually halted any attempts to contact her “close friend”, which sunk a hole into the Noise’s stomach. Perhaps that harpy monster got her for good this time, and the only legacy he left in her life was one of a schizotypal delusion and internalized bigotry. No, you’re a different woman now Noise, reborn and divorced from the finger of Midas. It’ll be different this time.

The Noise was already aware that the Doise has been homeless since day one of the tower collapsing, but he didn’t really know anything of relevant use besides that. A clueless stumble would prove to be fruitful when he asked Peppino if he had any idea where the Doise lived. The Doise, due to constantly having to move around, worked inconsistently at the pizzeria. She and her boyfriend would sometimes bunker out in Mr. Stick and Burton’s apartment occasionally. The Doise, due to an odd series of events that Peppino didn’t witness, saw Mr. Stick in particular as a grandfather figure and Mr. Stick in return held a surprising soft spot for the boy he saw as the grandson he never had. The aforementioned boyfriend went by the odd nickname “Doisette”, and Peppino described him as being “as sweet as an angel”. The Noise thanked Peppino for the first time ever and shook his hand like the guy just sold him a new car, darting off to interrogate Mr. Stick before Peppino could clarify one very important thing.

Mr. Stick always hated the Noise. At first, it was because of how the Noise used his money, how disposable and worthless the item seemed to her at times. Mr. Stick was somebody who was deeply aware of the value of money due to the financial-based trauma he’s endured, and as a result, had become stingy and very obsessive over currency. Although Mr. Stick was very familiar with using scummy techniques to get money because he feared using his retirement money for anything but necessities, he is incredibly “rule for thee but not for me” and found the Noise’s scumminess deplorable.

The hatred for the smug yellow dipshit would deepen after gaining the desire to be a good figure in Doise's life, overhearing the snippets of Doise’s delusion. At times, she would speak of fearing the Noise’s judgement, as if he was some kind of religious figure. This all culminated in Mr. Stick giving the Noise a stern “no” upon her request, and he wasn’t willing to entertain any idea for the Noise. Not even money could sway the guy.

Alright, plan B it is then. Just wait for the kid to enter or exit his shift to see if you could chat with him, perhaps give him some much needed money too. After a week had passed, the Noise managed to get a rough idea of what the boy’s schedule was like through loitering in Peppino’s Pizzeria a bunch. One evening, after Doise had finished her shift, the Noise confronted her, apologizing for his past behavior and providing Doise a nice wad of cash.

The gesture left the Doise frozen, as if he was stuck inside a coffin that would not go underground. Seeing the Noise inside the pizzeria had deeply unsettled the Doise, but he appeared to not pay any mind to her, giving the illusion that perhaps this horrible era of her life is drifting away. She has grown to hold a lot of fear towards the Noise due to having people around her that helped her realize she had an unhealthy attachment to him. She realized that the Noise instilled a lot of terrible, obsessive habits into her, making her this internally prejudiced person that would sometimes pray, “Perhaps the Noise will remember me and help a friend out.” Maybe this lack of contact and being born into poverty with neglectful parents was all just some classic Theodore prank, and she will finally be given salvation alongside someone she genuinely cares about. The revelations had made the Doise into a much more outwardly weepy and frightened person who somewhat wished she could “thug it out” like she used to. She wished it was just a prank.

Despite all the obvious suffering the Noise had inflicted upon her, the Doise was still touched by him. Her heart opened out of reflex, and admittedly, Noise’s apology and gesture seemed genuine. His eyes were soft and there were no cameras. It was all so conflicting for the Doise, such a horrible, paralyzing moment. The Doise didn’t think taking the cash wouldn’t be so rational because, well, what would this encourage her to do? But at the same time, it felt like a cardinal sin to not take the cash from someone who used to hold so much power. She was never a religious person, but the implication of some god frightened her. Reaching out a shaky hand, muttering a thousand obsessive thoughts under tense breaths, she took the money. And then she dashed away.

It was easy to see that the encounter inflicted a deep peril into the Doise. The encounter functioned as another reminder that the Noise had hurt that kid bad. She didn’t know what entirely went wrong, but she knew that she fucked up horribly. The Doise probably fucking hated him… but she still took that money. She took the money. She took that fucking money. She hates me… but she took the money. This event, despite its discomfort, gave off the message that the Noise was doing the right thing and, despite her “hatred” for him, the Doise still cared about the Noise. This, alongside Peppino and the Noise’s “pervert chats”, gave a little spark of hope that perhaps his relationships with the Doise and Peppino could be salvaged.

The spark can’t really be described as love, more just obsession and an urge to quell this need to feel like he matters to people. Indeed, it was a behavior inherited from living in an emotionally neglectful household, though it’s unlikely the Noise will recognize his past trauma any time soon. The events that followed from the uncomfortable encounter would crumble into something dreadful.

The Doise felt a nightmarish sludge of emotions, causing him to be absent from work for a while. She also didn’t visit Mr. Stick and Burton for a while, though this didn’t concern the old couple too much since she didn’t appear on a consistent basis. The Doise’s absence came off as concerning to Peppino, since Doise was rather adamant on being at work due to it being a consistent flow of income. It was hard to track down a reason for the absence, however. Peppino wasn’t at the scene of the incident, and hell, there’s a lot of factors to consider. Maybe she got paranoid about that harpy monster again, or that thing actually got her again, there’s also the fact that she’s homeless and all, and the Noise has been hanging around the pizzeria a lot more recently–wait a minute.

For one moment, Peppino got fiery over the idea that the Noise was once again ruining someone’s life when he should’ve just moved on, but then he was hit with a strange sentimentality. No. I should let go, but I can’t. Admittedly, the “kink chats” he had with the Noise were really getting to him. It was nice to have an outlet to talk about his taboo desires with someone who nonchalantly spouted her taboos as well. Gustavo, Peppino’s boyfriend, was a wonderful man, but he was also a man with undiagnosed OCD, and thus having certain sexual conversations with him was hard.

It was particularly frustrating for Peppino because he had a carnal desire to hurt in a “realistic manner”, not just sexually, but for something much deeper too. For context, Peppino was essentially perceived as some kind of “cartoon character” by his family, prompting them to abuse him in comically violent ways. As a result, Peppino despises and fears nothing more than getting hurt and that pain to be some kind of absurd joke. In addition, he subconsciously has a lot of praise for more “realistic” ways of getting hurt, and sees it as validating.

Okay, granted, you don’t have much evidence that the yellow fuck’s hurt the Doise recently… yet. If that guy does some shit again, then give him no mercy. It might take you a while to get to it sometimes, but it’s a guarantee you’ll confront the issue if it ever arrives.

Focusing back on the Noise, he would actively try to seek for the Doise in hopes of talking to her and helping her more. He was deeply dedicated to trying to find her, struggling to find her tent for a couple weeks until finding it under a highway. The Noise didn’t really think twice about his ventures while doing so. It’s normal, perhaps even honorable, to hold concern for the well-being of an eighteen-year-old schizotypal homeless boy. Indeed, that is true, but this venture was already proving to be morally dubious.

The Noise did hold a genuine worry for the Doise’s stability and knew that when you’ve wronged someone, you should treat them better. He also knew that trying to do better moral-wise makes you closer to being a good person, and people like a good person. Even if Noise’s ego wasn’t playing a sizable role in this venture, if it makes you feel good to do good, if you fear what doing the wrong thing would entail onto you, if it hurts you to see others you care for get hurt, is there any way to divorce the ego from your pursuit to do the right thing? This isn’t to brush off the faults of his ego indirectly motivating this, but to just simply ponder.

Of course, this second encounter did not go well, and there was a witness too. The Noise, once again with cash in hand, nervously apologized and asked the Doise if there’s anything he could do to improve their relationship. The Doise and Doisette were paralyzed, but it was much easier for Doisette to snap out of it. Now, Doisette was usually a very shy boy who rarely gave a response unless necessary (this was especially the case when she had to speak English, a language she has a decent grasp on but definitely isn’t fluent in). At this moment, however, Doisette yelled at the Noise for him to leave. In response, the Noise begged for the chance to do better, trying to weasel his way back into the Doise’s little fanboy heart as if it was instinct. Doisette, panicking beyond belief, could only find the strength to yell at him to leave without any rebuttal. Out of desperation, Doisette somehow gathered the strength to shove the thirty-one-year-old nonbinary woman out of the tent, causing him to almost topple over into a nearby street.

No… let me fix this. Let me be good. Let me be forgiven by you. Please. The world’s been begging for me to do good, so let that begin by you giving me forgiveness. Despite these lamentations, the Noise could not bring himself to try again. It would have to wait later; it needs a new approach.

An aimless and puffy eyed turn to the street would reveal the Bo Noise within her vision. The strange figment was attempting to lasso the speeding cars with a dingy chain made of their own flesh, but alas, they could not catch any. The chain coiled around their body and they yanked at the free part of the chain to “reel in” the car they did not catch. They looked panicked, as if they were desperate in their pursuit to improvise something… or something was eating away at the Noise once again… or both. The Noise took a moment to stop and observe the Bo Noise’s performance before the poor thing was “run over” by car, vanishing like a candle’s flame being blown out. He observed this carefully under each shaky breath. She knew the song and dance by now, wasn’t sure of the lyrics in this situation, but there was a more crushing manner consuming the Noise and she was too scared to genuinely listen.

You Bring Out the Worst in Me

The following day the Noise is exhausted by the encounter, so he was thankful the pizzeria was having another slow day so he and Peppino could chat. This one played out a little differently, however. The run over deer would open its heart.

“So uh,” Peppino began. “For several days now, I’ve been considering asking Gustavo to up the ante during sex, y’know just how I like it with all the hitting and punishment and shit. You think I should go for it?”

“Ohohoho, dude! Having that crazy ass sex fucking rules! It’s scary, but GOD! It feels good,” The Noise replied with all the mannerisms of a frat boy.

“I’m not sure how Gustavo would feel about it…”

“You don’t demand too much from him? Too much sex or whatever?”

“No…”

“Then it should be fine. It’s natural for your partner to just… provide for you. Loving you’s in their blood. If they don’t want to, you guys can compromise or something.”

Peppino, conditioned into this comfort as much as the Noise was, was swayed by his words and would approach Gustavo the night of that same day. Although he was decently convinced by the Noise, Peppino attempted to be much more graceful about the manner.

The request came up somewhat naturally, but caused an abrupt halt to Peppino and Gustavo’s conversation. It’s not like the two didn’t talk about some of their kinks on a semi-regular basis, but rather these specific kinks were something Peppino never really mentioned to Gustavo. The request got Gustavo rather concerned since he was aware of Peppino’s history with physical abuse. Furthermore, Gustavo didn’t like the idea of hurting his partner in any way, especially with the previously mentioned context. Gustavo would give a polite no to Peppino’s request.

The rejection made Peppino’s heart sink a little, and his good conscience wasn’t kicking in to let go of this desire for the moment. That desire was visceral and motivated in Peppino, cheered on by the Noise. No no, he said something about compromising, perhaps we can still enjoy ourselves a little…

Hunched over with a couple fingers propping up his tense forehead, Gustavo was still hung over that former request. An anxious “I’d rather not…” would meekly come out of him. An unusual response would be whimpered out of Peppino, who was starting to be driven down the whirlpool with the driftwood he knew he probably shouldn’t be grasping on.

“D-don’t I deserve it… at least a little?”

A horrible terror quaked in Gustavo’s chest. C’mon. The tension in this moment brought in a behavior that Gustavo hasn’t experienced in some several years– He froze. C’mon, you can budge. A thousand little pleas, hell, perhaps even an attempt to de-escalate the situation, could’ve been freed from the man if he wasn’t frozen. Oh, c’mon let me do anything. How the silence frightened the both of them.

This only prompted Peppino to beg, with every beg intensifying in its stumbling and desperation to leave the sickened head that it was housed in. Please. Tears streamed from both of their faces, hearts palpitating, and their eyes jutted open to witness every moment of this miserable hysteria. Please, oh please. Please, I need it. In a last ditch effort to purge the sickness within him, to perhaps be put in a heavenly chokehold to empty the mucus from his sinuses, Peppino bore his nubbed nails into Gustavo’s shoulders and shouted with mortified aggression:

“HIT ME! HIT ME SO I CAN FEEL LIKE A REAL PERSON! PLEASE!!”

What telling words left his mouth. How they somehow spoke a sadder story than anything that Gustavo heard from Peppino in the past. By god Gustavo was still deeply petrified, but this single statement instilled an overbearing grief that made tears pour out of his tiny eyes and throw his head back as he wailed; something finally released. The sheer misery expressed by Gustavo left Peppino silent. For what did this pain validate except that he did something terrible to both himself and Gustavo? After some grueling minutes of this despair, Gustavo found the strength to spit out some choked up words.

“I-I think y-you’re a real person… h-hitting won’t prove anything…”

“I… I suppose you’re right…” Peppino replied in a somber and hushed tone.

The two ultimately decided to give one another space for the rest of the night and they would have a proper conversation about the incident the following day. The anguish was much more subdued afterwards, but it was clear that it brought terror into the both of them. Peppino wallowed on the couch, upset that he had hurt Gustavo and was spiteful towards himself for not finding the strength in him to overpower his mental burdens like he always does. Gustavo hunched over their apartment balcony, stuck with an incomprehensible wad of a feeling that could only be described as “awful” and he was disappointed in himself for not overcoming his freeze response to have that serious conversation earlier rather than later. What a horrible night.

Peppino and Gustavo kept to their word and had a serious conversation about the incident the following day. While Gustavo couldn’t hold any rage in his heart towards Peppino’s actions, especially since the rage could potentially fuel his harmful mentality, he still was upset at what he did. Disappointment, fear, and sadness is what he felt. Peppino’s regret was apparent, and he struggled to confess that he heavily suspected that his conversations with the Noise was a large factor that led to that event. This is where most of Gustavo’s disappointment lied, for it can only make one crestfallen to see someone like Peppino knowingly fall for the fantasies that someone like the Noise sets up… yet “falling for it” does not describe the situation properly.

“I don’t know,” Peppino began dejectedly, “I think it was just fascination at first, how rare it is to see the Noise give up an act and mellow out like that. The moments were all too genuine for the guy to actually scheme up something… but he was sure as hell doing something to me. I guess it was a mutual act, and I hate myself more than I ever could before for not thinking straight, but he gave me some wicked, wicked encouragement.”

It was odd to be angry at the Noise instead of apathetic towards his existence after so many months. Even then, the anger was evenly split between himself and the Noise, so he was motivated to take action against him, but he was under the guise that the Noise didn’t do anything else repugnant as of late. Gustavo and Peppino resolved their conversation under the conclusion that both of them needed therapy (something that was on their minds for quite a while even before then) and would take action to receive it. Upon leaving their apartment to head to work, they caught sight of something.

Mr. Stick, their nextdoor neighbor, was listening to the Doise and Doisette, who were requesting to stay in his and Burton’s apartment for a while. Now, the two have stayed in there every now and again–but the Doise was crying as she explained what prompted the stay. What prompted the stay… Peppino learned he wasn’t the only person that the Noise wasn’t leaving alone.

A click. Of course. He kept visiting me because he wanted to win me over, wanted me to “forgive” him. Maybe or maybe not it was some sort of scheme, but it was certainly a nasty habit. Not even a single nugget of self awareness rattled in the Noise’s brain, with only an ego to lubricate the brain. Of course.

And it only took a click to supply Peppino’s muscles with a deep-seated human rage. If it weren’t for the incredible amounts of tension in his body, Peppino would’ve shouted and stormed straight to Noise's apartment. He would’ve ripped her limbs in half, smashed her against a wall, and painted her gravestone with her blood. But no. He knew her well enough. All the aforementioned acts of rage would’ve been some kind of blessing to her. Nothing kills the Noise more than pure silence.

The Ships Sail Off from the Nasty Harbor

After the two and Mr. Stick exchanged information of what happened recently, Peppino and Gustavo headed to work with the expectation that the Noise would come in. It’s only the right thing for Peppino to handle this situation. Lo and behold, the guy came in, eager to hear about how last night went for Peppino. The eagerness quickly faded when the Noise noticed that the inexpressive curiosity possessed by Peppino typically was replaced with eyes so cold that it stings. Despite his fidgeting hand bubbling in its own tension… Peppino gives him nothing. What made the bitter minutes pang even more was that it was so apparent that Peppino wanted to give him something; something was certainly wrong… yet nothing was coming. These silent moments suffocated the Noise, and thus attempted to fill the room for pleas for an answer.

Good god, just give me the answer! Please! Is it enough to chase speeding cars? Isn’t it the most merciful act for a decomposer to revive the dead ones that touch his heart the most? To give some to one so that all will believe that they can become the one? Isn’t that just life? Please let me give you mercy; hug the chain that I’m throwing back! Do you forgive me?

And he finally spoke.

“I’m never forgiving you for what you conditioned me into believing. Get out.”

The only good thing the Noise did in that moment was listen to Peppino’s command and left the building.

While heading back to his apartment, he would run into Mr. Stick, whose height was finally intimidating to him. The events that followed weren’t very pleasant for the Noise either.

“Hey, could you ever tell the Doise that I’m sorry for–”

“Oh my god. When will you ever fucking leave that kid alone? Can’t you take a hint she’s mortified of you?” Mr. Stick groaned, looking away.

“Look man, I’ve done a lot of horrible shit and I wanna do better; I’m being honest! I don’t know much, but aren’t you supposed to ask for forgiveness or something first?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t forgive you. I don’t think she should forgive you, either.”

“B-but I’ve–”

“She’s delusional because of you. She’s terrified of you. She’s delusional and even more paranoid because of you.”

The Noise was silent for a moment, almost defeated.

“Can you at least give this money I’ve been wanting to give him?”

Mr. Stick turned his head to look down at the Noise. “You could give that money to any other homeless young adult in this godforsaken city, or hell, donate it to charity! Give it to someone who could probably help these people more tangibly than you ever could! But you want to give it to her because you want to be liked by that kid. Give it up.”

And Mr. Stick ended the conversation by simply walking away. The Noise held in his urge to cry until he arrived at his and Noisette’s apartment. He would probably have to tell Noisette what kind of mess he’s gotten himself into, it would be a hard conversation, but there’s no way in god that woman’s ever leaving him… right?

She knew. Although Mr. Stick did not know Noisette well, he had taken up the effort to tell Noisette what had happened since Gustavo and Peppino were too busy to do so themselves. The news was upsetting to hear, with it confirming a speculative suspicion in regards to what the Noise was really doing during those outings. She wasn’t very happy with herself for not stepping in and asking what necessarily was the Noise trying to achieve with catching up with the Doise; the situation with the Noise and Doise is what she heard first. However, her frustration at herself would be knocked off from the shelf when the unsettling chill of it all inflated. It was a complicated situation, and the two of them did hold some degree of blame, but there was something devious about how the Noise rooted himself back into Peppino’s life. Sure, it probably wasn’t done deliberately, but how frightening it was to hear the Noise cling so carnally to comfort.

This information made Noisette suddenly fear what she was doing to the Noise, and even more deeply fear what the Noise might do to her if she stays with him any longer. No no, this is all I am; this is all that I was made for! No no, it won’t be the end; I can figure something out. It’ll be hard, but I can figure something out… hopefully.

Once the Noise entered his apartment, more silence approached him. There was some acknowledgement; Noisette was looking at him, but it told him nothing. Both of them sensed a black, yawning gap would have to be crossed, but only Noisette knew why it must be crossed. The Noise’s eyes swelled with a primal anguish, softly reddened and reaching for comfort once again. Another moment of vulnerability… and Noisette wasn’t going to open her arms.

“Thea…” Noisette struggled to say much more than that, quiet and defeated. Tears oozed from the Noise’s eyes and she reached for her, inching closer to where Noisette was in the room. Noisette, out of instinct, opened up her embrace for the approaching Noise only to overcome it and cling to her own body. She then looked at him with tense eyes.

“I know what you did. I think we should separate for our own good.”

At last the Noise was truly compelled to be silent, for she was too defeated to beg and she knew begging would only prove that they shouldn’t be together. Nonetheless, tears spilled and the Noise fell to his knees. He cradled himself as he slumped over the tiled floor, his head resting between the transition from the living room and kitchen. Although his eyes were unbelievably lost, becoming the fog that was obscuring him, he looked at Noisette and simply gave an understanding nod. The last ship was about to sail and he was all alone at the harbor.

Tense Because of How Far I've Fallen

After the Noise removed his items from the apartment, the domicile now belonged to Noisette only. The Noise was even further divorced from the people he knew in recent times, concentrated to living in his car. She would eventually find a crummy apartment to live in using some of the profits she earned from her music career.

Speaking of which, her music received noticeably less listeners due to people missing Noisette’s vocals and creative choices. In addition, the Noise’s typically energetic tone was starting to sound disingenuous in this era, and he was reluctant to share any tracks darker in tone since he was a lot more concerned with money now. The decrease in revenue meant that the Noise had to pick up a full-time job, squeezing in her music production into the late hours of the night. The Noise’s daily dribble was consumed by the monotony of everyday life, the embodiment of a lack of an answer despite the tumors of noise that buzzed and rushed persistently.

Indeed, a lot of things were on the Noise’s mind at this point. She felt like she had no time to grieve or improve her situation, felt like a fraud for not telling her fanbase the reason for Noisette’s departure, and, perhaps worse of all, the Bo Noise was no longer providing answers–only questions. Questions and woeful ditties.

“Why does the big lady fetal coil into the dirt? Is this his next big challenge, his spectacle?”

“Why, oh Christmas Past, are you a sepia-toned kitty cat that’s still biting me~?”

“Why do Bo’s suddenly appear, every time you’re in fear? Just like me, they’re bound to be, close to you…”

“Why am I bound to you?”

If the Noise didn’t know any better, he would’ve gone with his first suspicion that the Bo Noise was genuinely at a loss for what to do and was angry at him. As per usual, it was another miracle disguised as nonsense, but the Noise was back to feeling a deep fear towards the Bo Noise. She could’ve assured herself a billion times that the first suspicion was incorrect, yet the pangs of that suspicion got to her. Maybe she felt like she couldn’t do anything about her situation now despite many signs begging for improvement. Maybe he was too scared to do anything in fear of losing any more comforts. Maybe it wasn’t in his place to be a good person after all.

One day, the Noise caught eye of a stray cat near his apartment complex. The cat in question was an orange tabby with a funky ear and pathetic walk, oftentimes bumping into things in its path. The Noise, surprisingly, felt no inclination to laugh at this wonky cat and was instead concerned with its well-being. You could see the poor thing’s ribs through its skin and she was motivated to do the little she could and feed the cat. The tuna that was in the Noise’s fridge sufficed for the feline and the simple act bred a bond between the Noise and the cat he would name “Bandit”.

It was a little thing, but it made the Noise happy. She was able to manage it well within her schedule and Bandit was rather affectionate–what a welcoming peace this brang. Unfortunately, there would be moments where the cat would eagerly bump its head into the Noise’s palm and the tenderness would bring an unpleasant thought: You only like me because you could never fathom the horrible things I’ve done. A liar. She had grown rather paranoid in this period, often lying or withholding information even though telling it would be the only right thing she could really do. He was deathly afraid of telling his dwindling fanbase the reasoning for Noisette’s departure or to post his more authentic works. The Noise would rather sink with the ship than tell everyone he sunk it.

Far Away, Yet Tense

The breakup had also been a difficult situation for Noisette. For a portion of the period, the situation would bring physical turmoil onto Noisette. Angels and demons are created to fulfill desires and tasks assigned to them (one group is not morally superior to another, think of heaven and hell as two mega-corporations) and “abandoning their post” can bring forth terrible sensations onto them. While neither of these groups can really die, they can be severely weakened if they “quit their job”, and thus most attempts to divorce themselves from labor often end with them crawling back to their “job”. Alongside the weakness, being in this state instills horrific amounts of paranoia into the angel/demon, convincing them they are going to die very very soon. Overall a very miserable experience, especially if their assigned task is absolutely miserable.

Noisette, who was exploring hell more often to get a better understanding of herself, quickly learned of this and would be thrown into a frenzy to find a way out of it. Fortunately for her, the contract between hell and the pizza siblings expired after the Pizza Tower ceased to exist, so she would be able to be assigned another task. The task in question would have her taking on a freelance cupid/matchmaker-esque role, a task that didn’t interfere too much with her cafe work and was tolerable.

Unlike the Noise, Noisette was able to experience some positives from the breakup. She was free of having to constantly contemplate the morality of her partner and was away from a relationship that felt fundamentally troublesome. As previously mentioned, she would return to her hobby of wandering, but this time it took place in hell and she would gather more knowledge about hell society. Noisette also found herself pondering more often, finding a strange comfort in her solemn side and gaining an interest in philosophy. She garnered a better social life, deepening the bonds with her pre-existing friends and making a couple new friendships along the way.

Despite the hurdles now jumped over and life being overall better, Noisette still walked around as if she had a missing shard. Her life couldn’t be more meaningful than it was here–but the framework for the former fantasy still remained. It is often believed by angels and demons that gaining another task will move them on from the horrors of their past one, and while that somewhat is true, it is much more complicated. How her bones snagged onto her muscles, and every muscle couldn’t help but twitch in response every single time. There was an uncomfortable abundance of smoke in the room and she was too afraid to acknowledge she was the cigarette being smoked by the ghost of someone far away. She grew fondness for conversing about difficult topics out of her love for her philosophy, yet this was the one terrible truth she could not accept.

It’s no good to not talk of the fire. It was true. Noisette still cared for the Noise and, even more viscerally, she felt the need to still be in his life. She felt this and couldn’t even figure out why. (It’s not like it was her entire purpose or something, but it made her feel “unfinished” as a person.) Perhaps the worst aspect of this feeling for Noisette was that she tended to come to the frightening conclusion that she was never a person in the first place. The conclusion is debunked by everything she has felt and done but the fact remains that she is imprisoned inside of an idea, a fantasy. This fact doesn’t nullify everything and only adds a layer of nightmarish sophistication.

Due to the complicated nature of the issue, it was incredibly difficult to figure out a good, sustainable solution. Although she had experienced feelings of attraction towards people outside of the Noise, she felt like she was committing a moral wrongdoing for getting into another relationship. Therapy seemed like the most helpful tool for this dilemma, however, it’s unlikely that any human therapist would be able to give proper feedback on the situation and Noisette had heard horror stories about bad angel/demon therapists. Regardless, Noisette still kept this option in mind, anticipating a good opportunity to do so. She would flip through many, many other solutions but a part of her still nagged to rekindle her and the Noise’s relationship. It wasn’t a really good voice, but well, they say the more something gets repeated the more you perceive it as true.

Feverishly, the Fantasty Complies Like Glue

It’s almost as if this encounter was spawned by the repetition of this “truth”. One night, Noisette roamed the empty urban area in order to clear her head, accidentally stumbling upon the Noise feeding Bandit for the night. Out of compulsion, the two locked eyes with one another, burdened with the convoluted corpuscle that they dragged with their former passion. It was no good to build a cozy little house under the foundation they were composed of, yet it was all they ever had, I suppose. The weight of it all prompted both of them to shatter into tears and stiffly wallow in their urges.

Noisette crumbled and her maladied form embraced the countless cracks in the street. She wailed as she crawled towards the Noise and surrounded his legs, then looked up and overshot her eyes to the apathetic sky, the words leaving her mouth expressed a lost jacket.

“I’m not a person, Thea; I’m bound to you. This is all I am.”

It was all so wrong, but the statement dripped its filth through its cloth bag–Good god, the fever, the fever, the fever, the fever! It embodies me and possesses this current self of mine and Bo, through their raw existence, disguises as a joke that still flushes me and implies that I could, in fact, feel better in this moment. Only in a world where I know better, a world where I am you, could that be the case. What can remedy this “now” is what preceded it: the vapid pureness, the promised certainty, the point where I only needed to heal myself. Please, open my shell like before and place another pearl in there.

Noisette was capable of powering through her blinding grief for just a moment to suggest that they enter the Noise’s apartment for more privacy and talk through things properly. Predictably, the two of them needed some time to overcome their crying spells before conversing again. Once they overcame it, Noisette and Noise had a mellowed conversation on what they should do regarding their relationship. They ultimately settled on the idea of them being friends. To them, the decision seemed acceptable, giving them exposure to one another, an opportunity to collaborate music-wise again, and all the while giving them decent independence from one another.

Living with the Noise

Unfortunately, their friendship turned into a “friends with benefits” situation. The urge to engage in sexual activity with one another was weirdly primal and impulsive, as if their bodies were filling with cortisol to soothe the stress of being almost struck by lightning. Sure, their past experiences with working on music together has directed their relationship into something mildly mutual and healthy, but the weariness is apparent–especially in Noisette. In addition, the dynamic between their relationship morphed into them both being overbearing, though for different reasons. The Noise, as per usual, beckoned for comfort, but Noisette often initiated these sexual activities out of the sake of “having some kind of identity”. She’s a woman stuck between fantasy and reality, the grey matter of character and person, and thus finds herself nightmarishly lost.

The reuniting of Noise and Noisette brought back some of their old fans, making the Noise’s music gig somewhat profitable again. The Noise has opened up a little more with his music, which helped with the returns in numbers. Life’s a little better. The time is passing on. He has a hobby for feeding stray cats now. While the Noise will always have the urge to gawk, she rarely does it and is much more cautious of her behavior. She’s trying to read more but struggles to initiate that. He wonders about Peppino and the Doise every now and again but knows it better not to visit them. Occasionally, Noisette will hear a little bit about them and decide to tell the Noise. Peppino and the Doise are doing better but… that cycle of the Doise being mauled by that beast will certainly outlive the Noise and who knows how long it shall persist. Perhaps Noisette will one day exit Noise's life for good if she finds a better path.

The Noise still brought some form of suffering and is still somewhat insidious. There’s the aforementioned situation with Noisette, the past traumas he’s caused, the fact that he has yet to truly learn what he did wrong, and he’s technically hiding so much behind his back. Granted, perhaps his honesty isn’t entirely necessary, but he is nonetheless hiding a terrible history, and a chunk of that history was very public. None of the fans of her music have yet to realize that she’s the same person who used to torture people and give them money. No matter what, it comes off as at least a little deceitful. This fact fills him with dread, but he will probably never tell the truth. He’s somewhat returned to his old belief that he can’t do anything to improve himself as a person, and he has yet to even simply consider that maybe he should seek help and ask a good source what he can do. Who knows whether she will do better or, once again, horribly falter.

But will the world punish this troublesome individual through blatant misery, a scream that shatters her insides? No. Like everyone else, he is given tomorrow. And the day after that. And the next day. And then another. More and more and so forth. There’s a lot of noise that comes with this everyday life, a buzzing. Although it certainly is noise, it’s only background fodder for a mostly solitary life. Despite this nothingness, the Noise still anticipates the angel’s blade. He often expects to be slain yet still be left alive to writhe in his skinless body. Sometimes he expects her to knight him. She fantasizes about melting under her unapologetic heat, occasionally. For a sparing moment, the Noise’s behavior shall be humored for a moment: What else do humans do but listen for the answer from a world that is silent? Perhaps a human will interpret the Earth’s symbols arranged by laws of chance as an answer, but it is only through a human–whether that is the same one, another, or many–that can propose an answer.

Today and Tomorrow

At this current point, the Noise is hunched over his balcony smoking a cigarette in a black night. There’s background fodder and she isn’t looking for an answer right now; if anything, she’s been rather empty lately. The stars that occupy the sky might as well not be there due to the urban smog–spare one. It appears to be the North Star… but the yellow tint is rather out of place on a night like this. It shines brightly but doesn’t increase in size, emanating the gentle sound of a conversation; it’s hard to get specifics other than it sounds heartfelt. Upon further inspection, the Noise realizes the “star” is more akin to a nearby speck. The speck flutters down to Noise’s hands, does nothing for a second, before sweetly singing wisdom, a vulnerability that he’s known for a thousand times, yet still is ever so frightened of. The Noise is given this block of wisdom:

“Noise of the world, noise of man. Noise of wisdom, noise of dying attention span. Noise, noise, noise. Every painting’s got texture, every person has countless pores… yet you listen through the door instead of opening it. Your cradling is certainly something, but when will you ever take the step to your needed Noise?”

And he will be given tomorrow.

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