[beeqlass]

username:
kalon name:
personality: [100 words max]
fall palette: ██████
how do they feel about fall?: [500 words max]
- nostalgic. nostalgic and missing things.

[Mnemosyne]

username: Mnemosyne

#C3B695 ◆ Indian Khaki
#8CAA00 ◆ Limeade
#6F7A36 ◆ Pesto
#5A6A79 ◆ Shuttle Gray
#484848 ◆ Tundora

color names taken from
name that color


kalon name: Sylvain
personality: Stern and a bit of a workaholic, Sylvain can often be found at his desk poring over documents, eyes narrowed in concentration. When approached in this state, he tends to sigh a bit overdramatically and glare at the offender. "Do you mind?" he'll ask, eyebrow raised, and more often than not the visitor will decide that it wasn't that important in the first place and scurry off. Sylvain enjoys the quiet of his office, a cup of steaming coffee by his side as he works through trade agreements and legal documents. After all, he is the most capable one here. [ 100 / 100 ]
fall palette: boop
how do they feel about fall?: Sylvain looked up, lips pursed, as he considered your question. "I was on my way to go deliver these documents, but I suppose I could take some time to talk to you," he sighed, readjusting his grip on the papers. "Autumn, hmm?" The air in the courtyard is definitely crisper than it had been a week ago. Some of the trees overhanging the cobblestones are already changing in color, red and orange shooting through the leaves like paint dabbed on by a careless artist. Sylvain was staring off into the distance now, a faraway look in his eyes, and you waved in front of him to try and get his attention back. Once he finally snapped back to reality, he frowned more deeply. "I...autumn is alright, I suppose. Nothing special. Not too hot, not too cold, a prelude to winter. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to work." Brusquely cutting his talk short, he brushed past you and into the castle, leaving you staring after him.
-----
Setting the papers down on his desk, Sylvain leaned forward on his paws and stared out the window, watching a couple of mourning doves flit across the sky. Autumn always made him feel melancholy; it had been about this time of the year when he'd abandoned his initial childhood dream in favor of something more...practical. Once, when he'd been a young kit, he'd had dreams of being a knight or a warrior, always ready to slay fiends and protect the people. But after the accident...it seemed too much a dream for him. And so Sylvain had sought out another job that'd help him to feel like he was contributions, somehow, to making the world a better place.

Yet there was always a part of him that retained that childish dream, as irrational as it was. Sylvain couldn't help but be jealous of the young recruits that ran about town every season, talking about their upcoming training and how excited they were. There were times that he wished he could be among them. But he was past his prime, now, and enjoyed his work very much all the same. After all, that's what dreams were supposed to be; somewhat unobtainable and out of reach. Sylvain would accept his melancholy autumn days and keep his secret deep inside.
[ 386 / 500 ]

[SpartanAmethyst]

username
SpartanAmethyst
name
Paisley Quinn Addams
palette
muted
________________

personality

A soft, quiet Kalon living in a small town, Quinn much prefers the solitude and relaxation of his mountain retreat. He spends his days simply enjoying nature and the clean air, away from the anxiety and apprehension of the big city brings. He's usually a very antisocial Kalon, not well versed in all of the nuances of social interaction, and prefers his loneliness over the risk of being disliked. He has a fear of adventure and trying new things, which leads to an intense desire to stay in his "safe zone". He adores the simple life, and doesn't need much. [ 100 / 100 ]

feelings

When it comes to actual fall, Quinn absolutely adores it. Nestled in a small valley in the Appalachians, Quinn's small town sees all four seasons without being doomed as a tourist location. He knows that in late August, the trees begin to change from emerald green to the colors of fire dancing in the golden sunlight, and the heat of summer will start to give way to the cooler northern winds. It's a time when he gets to wear his heavy coats and jackets, and almost always has a cup of coffee in his paws as he strolls lazily through the town, watching all of the other people busily preparing for the holidays and coming town festival.

To Quinn, there's almost a poetry to nature at this time of year; everything is dying in the threat of the coming cold, but it's all still so beautiful. "Elegance in death", he'll murmur, collecting leaves as they fall. He says that so much, in fact, that it's what he named one of his poems; fall is also the time when he gets the most muse for his writing, be it poems or literature.

On the other side of the coin, though, Quinn actually dreads fall for three reasons. The first is Halloween; Quinn cannot stand being scared or frightened, whether intentionally or accidentally. He usually stays inside on Halloween night, and lives far enough out that he doesn't have to worry about many Trick-or-Treaters; still, he loves kids, so he sets out little pre-made treat bags and sets them at the end of his long driveway for them to take as they pass. Otherwise, he doesn't decorate, doesn't go to parties, he just tries to forget the holiday exists all together.

The second reason is winter; while Quinn doesn't mind a light chill, something that can be easily held at bay by a jacket and a hot drink, the male Kalon absolutely cannot stand the true cold, snow, and ice; every winter is absolutely miserable for him, especially since his town usually gets between 4 and 5 feet of snow during the deep freeze of January. He absolutely adores Christmas, but it's a double-edged sword as the holiday always brings about his worst enemy: driving in the snow. But, he will say that being "snowed in" or "scared of black ice" both make perfect excuses to lock himself up in his warm home and not have to deal with the outside world.

The last thing isn't something he so much hates, it's more of his loneliness that rears its head. Quinn loves his solitude, we've already established that, but with fall comes Thanksgiving, a time to be with family. Quinn loves to cook and bake, and has always wanted a huge family-style Thanksgiving dinner. But most of his family has either passed or he's estranged from, and with no significant other, his holiday is spent alone at the town diner. He enjoys a homemade Thanksgiving meal there, but it's never the same. [ 500 / 500 ]

[lumilys]

username: hydrangeate
kalon name: carpo [the bringer of food in greek mythology c:]
personality: gluttonous, flamboyant, observant, encouraging, not picky at all, stubborn
fall palette:
➤ #3A1D00
➤ #8F7E36
➤ #CDBE9F
➤ #AEB7B2
➤ #7C766A
how do they feel about fall?: [500 words max] fall? it's carpo's specialty; his main purpose in life. w.i.p.

[imperials]

Res !

[skywishes01]

username skywishes01 / kalon name atticus / fall palette x

personality:

Working as a book editor, you must have a certain keenness and strength about you - two qualities which Atticus prides himself in. Incredibly detail oriented, and unashamed to be blunt - often he'll figure out a way to disguise offenses with elegant words, but if you are really testing his patience, he will quickly lose all care for your feelings. On first meeting he embodies all the traits of the dramatic artist - snobbish, self-centred, passionate, and utterly lost in his own mindscape. But his heart is not frozen; rather, always quietly aflame, to those who care to look.

[100 words.]

how do they feel about fall?:

Fall, you say?

The kalon sitting across from you ponders the question for a moment. It's the end of summer - the mandatory pumpkin-spice lattes are starting to appear on café menus; you have one in front of you right now. Your companion, however, opted for a long black, which he now sips thoughtfully.

I suppose I'm to think about the colours, yes? Most people would; that's perfectly understandable. It is a rather pretty time of year, I will admit. All the reds and oranges and golds - how would you describe it -

He flourishes his arm, searching for the right words.

- like a dragon's prized treasure-horde, like startling fireworks, nature's last hurrah before the world fades to grey.

An apologetic smile.

Sorry, that's the writer in me. Does that answer your question?

You're about to respond with a yes, thank you very much, but his eyes are distracted - you can tell that last question wasn't entirely for you. Sure enough, before you can open your mouth he's suddenly speaking again.

It's beautiful, yes - but superficial. I've never been a fan of the season, per se - but I've never disliked it either. It's simply another change in our world, a fresh overcoat of paint, is it not? You wouldn't believe how many novels I've read, from brilliant writers, great young talents, how many passages of autumn imagery I've had to endure. "Leaves falling like drops of gold" - they think they're being original, the poor things. Believe me, I can understand the descriptive allure - (he laughs wryly) - after all, didn't I give in to those tendencies just a few moments ago?

Here's a better answer - apologies for the rambling. As a writer, an artist, it's a wonderful time. Not for me, but evidently for many others. But as a person? I truly never understood the whole fuss about "seasons changing" - those radically different cultures associated with each season, cultures that suddenly disappear and reappear overnight. Where I grew up, we didn't have these big changes, the different colours coming and going - maybe that is why I don't get excited over it, yes? Perhaps this analogy will help -whether it's snow or dried leaves covering the ground, there is still going to be dirt underneath it.

He puts down his cup; somehow, it is almost finished.

I prefer to save my enthusiasm - and my despair, too - for the bigger things in life. You know?

You don't know. But again - he is not really talking to you.

He turns to face the window, a small smile appearing on his face. There's a distant look in his eyes that speaks of faraway lands, and worlds that only exist in the imagination.

[461 words.]

[ufoparty]

mark

a baby

[Kiaa]

Mark

[SilentMelody]

username: SilentMelody
kalon name:
personality: [100 words max]
fall palette:
how do they feel about fall?: [500 words max]

[! ‎]

username: ares
kalon name: piaras

personality: [100 words max]
fall palette:
how do they feel about fall?: [500 words max]

─ work in progress !! ─