Noah Sinclair

at a glance HOW THEY ARE PERCEIVED
Noah is an Irish immigrant who was raised in a household filled with books and quiet intellectualism. He spent his early years navigating the contrast between old traditions and modern progress. Though he appreciated Limerick’s rich history, he always felt the pull of something bigger, eventually leaving for New York to pursue his studies and career. He has always been able to hear others' thoughts. As a child, he didn’t realize it was abnormal, he assumed everyone just knew what others were thinking. With time, he learned to manage it, dulling the noise with music and isolating individual minds when necessary. Though intrusive, his ability has beenan advantage, shaping his career and personal life in ways he’s not always proud of, but he’s long since stopped pretending to be of higher moral.

education and career WHAT THEY DO
He studied journalism at Columbia, drawn in by the university’s legacy of hard hitting investigative work. He supplemented his coursework with urban studies, fascinated by how cities evolve, how power shapes skylines and how history gets rewritten in steel and glass. His thesis; a deep dive into redlining’s architectural impact, earned quiet praise from professors who saw his potential before he did.
His early career was spent in newsrooms, first as a fact checker, then as a staff writer. His reporting on corporate land grabs and labor exploitation made waves, but when the industry’s priorities shifted toward clicks over substance, he left. Now, he freelances. His byline still appears in major publications, mostly long form pieces about systemic injustices; when he bothers to pitch them. More often, he ghostwrites for authors who lack the patience for research, polishes manuscripts, and fact checks books he wishes he should have written himself. He tells himself he doesn’t mind. The work pays well, and he enjoys the flexibility, but he misses writing for himself. He misses the thrill of uncovering buried truths, of crafting books about the forgotten ripple effects of history.


abilities WHAT THEY CAN DO
Noah’s ability is both a gift and a curse, an unfiltered stream of consciousness from every mind within a 650 foot radius. There is no off switch, just a relentless, ever present stream of thoughts, some barely whispers, others screaming into his skull. The volume varies depending on the person; loud, chaotic minds belong to the anxious, the angry, the guilty. The quiet ones? Either well disciplined or deeply at peace. He rarely encounters the latter. He’s learned to live with it. Music helps to dull it out or the sharpness of noise-canceling earbuds offers temporary relief. Without them, he’s wide open, every stray thought slipping in like radio static. On bad days, it’s unbearable. Crowded spaces are a minefield of unfiltered emotions and secrets he never wanted to know. But on good days, it’s an edge, a tool he’s long since stopped pretending he doesn’t use. In journalism, in ghostwriting, in personal dealings he’s pulled information others couldn’t, read between the lines where no lines existed. He tells himself it’s just intuition, just knowing people well, but he knows better. It’s a grey area, a constant moral tightrope. He hates the invasion, but it’s hard not to take advantage of.

learned abilities WHAT THEY HAVE LEARNED
Noah will never consider himself a particularly musical person, but with a lifetime spent drowning out other people’s thoughts with music, it became more than just background noise. Over the years, he’s developed an eclectic taste, shaped by the endless genres he has listened to. His playlists are a chaotic mix of genres, stitched together by whatever drowns out the noise best on any given day. At some point, just listening wasn’t enough. He picked up a guitar before high school, something to keep his hands busy when the thoughts got too overwhelming. Practicing came as a distraction to other people's thoughts and now he is quite good; fingerpicking melodies that felt like a conversation he could actually control. He’s no performer, no frontman, but in the quiet moments of his life, when the world is too loud and his own thoughts are the only ones he wants to hear, he plays.

likes WHAT THEY LIKE
Noah enjoys the quiet hum of late night cities, the anonymity of crowded spaces where no one is paying attention to him. He loves vinyl records, not for the sound quality but for the ritual of playing them. Strong coffee, especially the kind that tastes slightly burnt, fuels his work. He appreciates people who think before they speak - it makes his life easier. He has a soft spot for old bookstores, well-researched history books, and the feeling of finishing a difficult piece of writing. Playing guitar in the dark, lost in sound, is one of the few times his mind feels like his own..
dislikes WHAT THEY DON'T LIKE
He hates talk radio because it has too many voices, too many half formed thoughts. Small talk exhausts him, not because he’s antisocial, but because he already knows what the other person is going to say. Silence isn’t peaceful; it’s just the absence of distraction. He dislikes people who lie to themselves, because it makes their thoughts erratic and harder to tune out. Overly bright rooms give him headaches. He avoids mirrors when he’s had a bad day, unsure if he’ll like what he sees.