[Phantom]

Noah Henry Im

Full Name: Noah Henry Im
Pronouns: He/Him
Nicknames: N/A
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Room #: -
Birthplace: West Des Moines, Iowa
Birthday: January 12th
Orientation: Homosexual
Status: Single
Power: Thermal Manipulation
Play-By: Myungsoo Kim
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 180 lbs


Personality:
Noah- when out and about- is someone who tries to be as self-sufficient as possible. As a wheelchair user, if he isn't, he's used to being subjected to unwanted "help" (it doesn't really matter that he removed the handles from his chair). Noah could simultaneously be described as icily calm and incredibly passionate- and both would be true. He is adaptable, and has a lot of experience figuring out how to make things work on the fly. Noah is a very firm and principled person, although his principles might not line up with general societies'.

Due to his past in sports, Noah is a very competitive person. He enjoys a challenge- and relishes the rare times when he can show off. He's the type that could never be passive- never content to shut up and be acted upon. It makes sense then that, out of necessity, Noah is tough. He has developed a very thick skin, and- when he's in the mood- is happy to dish out just as much as he's taken. (Whether he's being playful or hateful just depends on the trigger!)

Just as much as he can be icily calm, Noah can be cold. And just as much as he can be passionate- Noah is fiery. When faced with inaccessibility or ableism- Noah is irascible. He is frequently argumentative and blunt- and not afraid to claim space. Underneath all of this is a deep, underlying layer of cynicism. He is deeply aware of the fact that he doesn't matter- yet he refuses to act like it. He wishes that he didn't have to be "on" all the time. Didn't have to be constantly aware of cracks in the pavement- or have to deal with the fact that 90% of his friends' homes are completely inaccessible to him.

Noah interrogates the order of things every single day- and it brings him great joy to do so. Of course, he'd rather just be able to do what he wants to do, or go where he wants to go- with no barriers. He is honest and clever. While Noah is generally pretty neutral about people- make no mistake- he is capable of being vindictive towards those who get on his bad side. Noah is shrewd, and is articulate when he feels like he's actually being listened to. If not, well..

Noah would like nothing more than to not have to think about disability all the time. But situations are raised right in his disabled face, every single day. He's not just going to sit there and say nothing, do nothing. Maybe, some day- he'll be able to not think about it: until then, if he has to go through an obstacle course just to get groceries, he's going to get loud about it.

And if that makes people mad- that would rather he just sit at home- out of sight and out of mind? All the better.

History:
(cw: car accident)

Living in Iowa- Noah's family is westernized with a capital 'W'. There were probably five Koreans in all of Iowa, and he was one of them. If he had to guess, when he was little, there were probably seventeen asian people in the entire state.

Noah was an active participant in little leagues and sports teams since he started to walk. His parents signed him up- he didn't really ask- but he enjoyed them. Neither of his parents ever struck him as particularly sporty. Sure, they'd go to- or sometimes host- superbowl watch parties, but they weren't part of any teams or groups. His best guess was that sticking him and his older brother into teams was how they managed to fit in, and have a social circle.

His brother wasn't very sporty though. The only time he excelled was on the swim team. Noah, on the other hand, excelled at most things. If he didn't- he'd try harder, and practice until he could.

In school, Noah was a very middle of the road student. Unless a particular subject or assignment interested him, he didn't put much effort into it. Homework was done in a hurry- he spent most of his time after school at practice, and he was rarely on the bench.

In elementary school he was free to do almost everything. But when he got to middle school, the teams had conflicting practice times, and games were important. So he had to decide. It was a tough choice, but Noah had observed the social pecking order at his brother's school. There was nothing more important than football.

He was absolutely slaughtered in practice those first few months.

Most of the other kids in his grade were already on the tail end of a growth spurt, and he had just begun his. But he caught up- he memorized plays, and watched as many games as he could on TV. He wasn't much to look at then, but he was the fastest out of all of them- and after taking more than a few hits- he was able to take a bigger beating than most and keep moving.

When he finally grew into his age group, Noah excelled at football. He was his coach's favorite, and it felt like- almost overnight- he became incredibly popular. Thankfully he was bolstered by the other guys on the team, Noah didn't really have the personality for "popular". He was very cool-headed, and more than a little chilly. The thing about middle school popularity was that it netted him chicks. And beyond being good friends with some of the girls in his class- Noah wasn't very interested in them. Not in the same way that the other guys were.

At home, his parents always asked him about girls. Did he have a girlfriend? Was he going to bring her home to meet them? He did go on a few group dates with his friends- just to make sure. Like... Sure, sure. Maybe he just took a long time to warm up. Maybe he hadn't met the right girl. At school dances, he often found himself going with one of his female friends- this one in particular, herself, didn't seem to have much interest in boys- and was happy to hold his elbow for the first fifteen minutes of the night. Maybe they'd dance to a song or two- and he'd buy her some chips, or cake, or something.

Noah was very, very aware that him being anything but straight, openly, was probably not going to go over well. Not with his parents, not with most of his teammates- and he didn't have the confidence to be both one of the few asian kids at school, and the gay one. So he did an absolutely boneheaded thing, and outsourced.

In high school, Noah dated a man almost twice his age. "Dated" actually probably isn't the best word. He felt so cool and mature- and it wasn't until later that he realized he was being taken advantage of. He was pissed off- and broke things off immediately. Blocked his phone number, and his contact everywhere else.

In school, he was still the star on the football team. His coaches assured him that if he kept on like this he was probably headed for college ball. Meanwhile, he had developed a major (and age appropriate,) crush on one of the guys on the basketball team.

He considered asking him out- over and over again. How he would do it- when, where. Every time he ran into him in the hallway, he got uncharacteristically flustered. Fumbling and stuttering flustered. He once spilled water all over himself in front of him! Noah had never been so mortified in his entire life.

He was in the passenger seat of a friend's car one sunny summer afternoon- just before the end of their junior year. He still hadn't confessed to that boy, by the way. He probably wasn't his type anyway- even if he did swing that way (Noah had very little confidence in himself outside of sports). They were cruising along a little over the speed limit- as teenage boys are wont to do.

Everything happened in a second. One moment, he was in the passenger seat- the next, he was on the road. His friend slammed on the breaks, and the seat belt came off the latch. Noah went straight through the windshield.

The last thing he remembers (or thinks he remembers, he still doubts that he was actually conscious at that point,) is the clear blue sky- not a cloud in sight.

And he didn't feel a thing.

Then he was in the hospital. His body was wrapped up like a mummy, and he couldn't move his legs. Noah was so high on painkillers it felt like he was having an out of body experience. He had broken one of his arms, and he could barely move his fingers with the other. This was a dream. Right?

His wounds healed, and he started intense physical therapy.

Noah was numb. Literally, and emotionally. His entire life changed course in the matter of an afternoon.

Suddenly, he didn't really care if that boy liked him back or not. He wasn't even on his mind anymore.

His parents sued. They won a settlement- a big one. There were recalls done. Noah eventually was able to move his legs again. He could walk too- he just wasn't very good at it. He wasn't very good at standing, either. The pain got better than it was the first day, but it never completely went away.

Moving in a wheelchair took some getting used to. He had lost so much muscle mass that he was basically starting from zero. But, Noah noticed a funny thing (not ha-ha funny- more isn't it funny that...) It was almost like the more months he was away from school- the more friends he lost. He survived a horrible accident, yet socially, he might as well have died. He still did have that girl that was his friend (not his girlfriend)! By now, she was out. He was happy for her, and he wondered if he might have been too- if-

That was a what-if he couldn't touch yet. It was too new, too raw.

At home they made a lot of modifications. Got a ramp, made the doorways wider. Got a StairMaster, which was actually pretty cool.

Noah went back to school a year later. Most of his friends, and also his crush, had graduated. He barely knew any of these kids. And maybe that was why, when some kid asked 'Hey, how fast does that thing go?' In that tone of voice- he retorted: "Faster than your dad's pull-out game."

It was a wonder he was ever popular to begin with.

Noah finished school and graduated quietly. He didn't really know what to do- not for his future, and not in his life. He had had a future laid out in front of him- college ball, he hadn't even thought about what he wanted to study in college.

Now, he had plenty of time. His friends (and past friends, and distantly concerned acquaintances,) were all out there, moving on with their lives. His life didn't end, but he didn't know what to do. He didn't go out much. When he did, he took the bus. And he felt like a burden- it took forever for the wheelchair lift to come down, and it took time to secure his chair, and everyone stared at him- and a lot of the 'stares' were actually glares.

Noah found the disability community completely by accident, on Twitter, of all places. A hashtag created by an activist was trending, and he tapped it. And, suddenly, he was feeling again.

The feeling was rage.

He read- tweets, and the disability justice canon. He read theory, and he read about lived experience. He read about the direct link between ableism and racism- he read 'The Right Not To Work', he read about crip time, he read everything by Laura Hershey- and he actually cried (broke down sobbing,) when he read 'You Get Proud By Practicing' for the first time.

It had never occurred to him that all the shame that he had accrued wasn't actually his. That he wasn't meant to hold it- that it was bruising him, fighting him, lacerating him on the inside.

There was a disability rights group in the city. And when he worked up the nerve to be disabled in public again, he started to get involved. He knew basically nothing about advocacy, so he started slowly- at the pace that his body would let him go at.

He got involved in other ways too- there had been another wound from the accident, one that he never even recognized that he had until then.

He missed competing- he missed sports. Both felt completely out of reach to him for the last couple of years. It wasn't that he thought people in wheelchairs couldn't do sports- he just had no idea where to go. There weren't exactly flyers for wheelchair basketball posted on every telephone pole.

There was an entire community in the city that he never even knew existed. He did end up playing wheelchair basketball. He even started training with someone in the community to push a five mile run. By that time Noah was horribly out of shape- he barely even left his house anymore! He learned what the most accessible stops were in the city, and what roads and streets to avoid- either because the sidewalk ended, or there were cracks and dips that were literally impassible in his manual wheelchair.

When he felt he was in a good enough space mentally, he decided to start attending classes at the local community college. Noah got his degree in public policy. And after being in the community for years, he finally felt like he had the skills to get out there and actually change things.

It was not as easy as it sounded. When it worked fine for them (or they thought it looked nicer that way, or any other excuse they could come up with,) people didn't want to change things. Even when it was something that would benefit everyone- like fixing the damn cracks in the pavement! He'd call and they'd tell him that they got plenty of calls about that street. Then he'd let the silence hang in the air for a few seconds and ask: "Okay, so what are you going to do about it?"

He started speaking at events, and working with organizations in the community.

After a year or two, Noah came to a definitive conclusion.

It didn't matter how well he phrased what he had to say; if he was criticizing the way that things were done he could couch it in whatever language he wanted. Could whisper it, or shout it from the rooftops. They did not want to hear it. Not unless it was unconditional praise. They wanted him to roll out in front of an audience- give an inspiring speech- and make everyone feel good about themselves.

He was never, ever going to do that. He didn't get in front of crowds- or on a panel or into conferences- to tell a sweet bedtime story, and tuck everyone in, and kiss them on the forehead.

'The only disability in life is a bad attitude!' Didn't sound so good when it was next to homelessness, poverty, abuse, and sexual assault statistics. He was going to talk about community employment statistics, and race, gender, and poverty (among other things). He did not develop the skills he had, or hound the county for months and months and months, to be invited to a table just to sit there quietly.

A lot of people didn't like him. They didn't like what he had to say. They didn't like it when he offered up suggestions to make an event more accessible, then they put up half-measures- making another barrier- and he had to come back to them about that one.

He didn't want to knowingly leave anyone outside. When he was invited into a room, he tried to be as good of a representative as he could be.

Sometimes it hurt to be the one in the room.

The work was grueling, especially the times when he knew that they didn't even want him there. But that was the only way change was going to happen. And he did, actually, end up pressuring them into fixing some of those sidewalks. Or installing a ramp- or at the very least getting an event to just list the barriers that the venue had. It was experiences like that that made him realize he didn't want rights- he wanted justice. Yeah- fuck civility- he wanted justice.

All the while, outside of work, Noah was living a life of profound isolation.

Sure, he had the local community- but just because they were in community together didn't mean they were all compatible as friends.

To say nothing about his "love life". Air quotes for emphasis. He would, maybe, get a real date once a year. He had more success online, dating people out of state- but things still didn't usually pan out. Given, his personality probably didn't help- but he found himself uninstalling and reinstalling the apps every few months. There were only so many times he could be asked if he could even have sex before he rage quit- when he even matched with someone at all.

He had his family- who he did, finally, come out to. His brother, who supported him, no longer lived in Iowa. And his parents were "accepting", but they were awkward, and hard to be around. They tried, he gave them that. But if they weren't pretty homophobic in the first place, he probably would have been out years ago.

His actual friends were almost completely online. While there were many other IRL communities that he was, technically, part of- almost none of them met in spaces that he could get into. And just because he made friends with someone, didn't mean he'd be able to get into their house.

Sometimes, he thought about moving away. But it wasn't like there was this disabled mecca city he could move to. Every city had issues.

If there was a gem out there with his name on it, he'd find it eventually. Until then, he was going to keep trying, and probably failing to date online. The few times he went to conferences out of state, he'd meet his friends in person. Traveling was nerve wracking, airlines break an average of 20 wheelchairs per day. And if one of those were his- he'd be trapped at home with a crappy rental chair, dealing with pressure sores for months.

He spent a lot of his free time at home on Zoom, or phone calls, with other wheelchair users and bedbound folks who wanted some company. While he was pushing marathons and joining the few sports leagues he had access to, he started developing hobbies at home.

Life wasn't all bad, it wasn't all good- anytime he was outside, he usually came back home frustrated.

Noah constantly dreamed about the day when he'd be able to get from one end of town to the other, seamlessly. While he could drive, and he had more than enough money to put hand controls in a car- he was understandably hesitant to do that. Even if he drove himself somewhere- there was no guarantee he could get in the front door! Or maybe he could get in, but he had to go along the side, into an alleyway, past the dumpster, through the kitchen...

Even though he had more than his fair share of complaints, Noah liked his life.

It didn't turn out the way he thought it would.

That was a good thing.

People that knew him back then- his parents, his teachers, other adults- would always say how they always saw him going on to do big things. But he was doing big things- just not things they appreciated. And, even if he wasn't? So what.

Noah was a person. He was not an important person. But he refused to act like he wasn't important. He wasn't going to change the world, but he could change someone else's world.

And then, out of the clear blue sky, he found himself getting a letter in the mail.

Even though he had wanted to (just as much as he'd wanted to scream out a lorem ipsum of curse words,) Noah had never used his power on anyone else. Not unless they were someone he liked- and they were cold, or hot. When he was pushing marathons, or playing games (even in his past life,) he would heat up his muscles to perform better. When he had a lot of pain in his spine, he'd apply a cold compress without an ice pack.

So his question was how- and why? But he was intrigued- and they touted being wheelchair accessible.

He would be the judge of that.

And if he needed to use some of his settlement money to sue- so be it. You either take someone to court, or watch as your federally recognized rights go unfulfilled.

Other:
The Powers:
Thermal Manipulation- Noah has the ability to manipulate temperature. Mentally, he changes the momentum of molecules to heat or cool anything, or anyone. While it's imprecise and imperfect- he can use his power to heat something to the point it combusts, or chill something until it freezes.

Love him, hate him, wanna date him?