CALL TO THE STAND -- open, return from activity+development

Sunset had already passed, the golden, amber hues leeching from the sky and turning it the dull grey of twilight. Noelani watched it all happen, her face blank, tired, the glow of her forge extinguished hours ago. Now there was just an unsteady flicker of a candle beside her, fire dancing on her claws as she stood to light up the lamp that hung outside of her forge. It took barely a second for the wick to catch, and when it did she stared at it for a second, as if in doing that she could be able to will the sun back up. Alas, when she looked back into the growing darkness, it was still the hues of grey that she had known to fear.

How long had it been since she had wanted to play in those greys, just to stay outside a little while longer? Her father and parent had always warned her not to stray too far from home, never to stay out when it grew dark. A little part of her wished to be able to muster the courage that she had even in her younger life, the courage that deserted her now. Weren't adults supposed to be strong? Well... was she an adult, even? Yes. She was. Yet she acted worse than a toddler. Noelani frowned, leaning down to pick up the candle that now rested on the stoop of the emptied house. The avian picked it up carefully, walking back into the structure and starting to close the door, peering outside once with her silhouette outlined by the friendly glow of the candle. Then she closed the door, and all was dark and still again.

The house itself wasn't just one room; beyond the main room where she had built her forge and kept all of her materials there sat another, smaller room. It was fitting for her, she supposed. It was barely bigger than a closet, fitting a bed into there and a shelf above it. On the shelf she had a bag of crystal shards, tucked away and tied carefully with twine. Next to it was an empty, worn gauntlet that had numerous scratches and furrows in the black metal. She tried not to look at it as she closed the door to her room behind it, locking it carefully. The candle was placed on the shelf, making the shadows dance on the bare walls. Noelani closed her eyes to shut them out, but the silence was more deafening than anything she'd ever heard in her life. It was so, so quiet here, in the enclosed room that she had called her home base.

The silence was personally interrupted by her own sputtering coughs, the metallic taste of blood making her feel nauseous-

Noelani furiously scrubbed her eyes, staring up again at the ceiling tiredly, waiting for the candle to gutter out. Slowly, it died, and along with it died her apprehension, the loathing of sleep. For once, she relented and let herself understand how absolutely exhausted she was.

"I don't care if you're tired. I don't care if it hurts. I'm going to kill you if you complain again."

Nobody would care, really. Why would they? She didn't mean much to anyone, or any group, or any notion, really. But that was okay, she thought tiredly, her eyes feeling heavy and stinging when she blinked from the hours of staring into a fire.

"Put that fucking fire out before I gut you."

The candle went out, finally, and a kind of mental relieved sigh spread through her tired limbs. Noelani twisted to put her chin on the pillow, eyes closed as she forced herself to relax. The memories beat at her mental barriers like waves against a sea wall, slowly eroding away at it until it could get built up once again, maybe not as strong as before, but any sort of protection was good protection.

She dimly remembered it, the feeling of safety. It was too far away to comprehend, as if she had never experienced it, never not known fear. Why? Why would she had ever been safe? He was probably coming back to kill her right now...


Noelani was catapulted back into the memory, the one that just barely managed to wriggle through the cracks of her wall and destroy it from the inside. Again, the chains rattled, again The Knife glinted on the dirty stones before her, and again, he was there. He didn't say anything to her, really, just watching and waiting. The avian had curled up as far from The Knife as possible, her eyes shut as she prayed to any god that would listen to get her out, just let her go home again.


"Aren't you going to do anything?" He asked, quiet. "You, my friend, are extremely boring."



She whimpered, curling up tighter. She could almost hear him thinking, feel him probing in her head for something to observe. "Stop hiding it from me. Where is it? Why won't you tell me?"


"Go to hell."

She braced herself for it, the pain, but it didn't come. She raised her head as she barely dared to hope, that it was getting better- a dull thump resonated in the cell as he swung his mitt of a paw down on her skull, her head reeling as stars exploded in her dim vision. It was supposed to end, she thought. He was supposed to keep asking at this point, to keep probing, but he just wouldn't stop. His talons curled into the feathers on her neck and pulled them out, one by one, raking his claws down his face, down her back, cutting open the brands and hissing, snarling to her that was useless, that she was made to die, that he was going to kill her.


He was killing her.


He had to be held back, restrained by his own self, Nyx, from killing her. He was breathing hard, ivory claws stained red as she was silent, waiting. "Where. Is. It." He spat, everything seeming to vibrate as he tore apart her memories with the wild frenzy of something feral and cold and dark, now he was shaking her and screaming at her to give it up.


"Give it up."

He was there. He was real. The Knife was embedded in her side, claws wrapped around her her throat as he strangled the already dying life from her. There was no reason to object or cry out. She was too useless already, just like he said. "Do you even know anymore?!"

He was gone. It wasn't real. Her breathing was rapid as she felt along her side for The Knife, at her throat for the marks. They weren't there, it was just another dream. It had happened the night before, and the night before that. She sat up in the darkness, relit the candle and left her room with it. She sat in her cold, dark forge and waited for some sign that it was safe again.