[khvoxtic]

Do yall ever sit there staring at a canvas forever not really knowing what to do?
Thats where im sitting my friends, so i hope yall can help out with some creative inspiration
for this kal, in return the winner of this kalon will have its edits, colours, shine etc, all based
off of whatever is written, with cap of uncommon traits.

For this kalon, I would love for you to write something with the prompt being "Blank Canvas"
Max of 1000 words, feel free to interpret Blank Canvas however you'd like.

This will end 12th March @ 11:59 CS Time



Code: Select all

[b]username + number ::[/b]
[b]kalon name ::[/b]
[b]prompt ::[/b]



Edits:

[s] shine, claws, hair
[c] tail, fur
[uc] ears, pupil

[Sneky]

username + number :: Sneky, 199821
kalon name :: Cosmia
prompt ::
Stardust felt colder in Cosmia’s grasp than she expected it to. For thousands of years she had seen her elders weaving and molding the silvery substance into planetary systems and star nurseries, and it had always looked so alive in their deft hands. But as she pawed through the stolen bowl of stardust, she felt none of the warmth that gave the dust the ability to shape the cosmos. Perhaps the elders were right, she thought. Perhaps she wasn’t ready to begin weaving her own galaxies, after all she was only a few million years old, still so young for her kind. But if she didn’t take initiative, show the others that she did know what she was doing, then maybe she would always be stuck on the sidelines watching others shape the universe.

Slowly, she began to picture something in her mind. She thought it best to start with something simple, not a whole star system or galaxy. A simple yellow dwarf would do just fine for her first creation. She pinched the stardust in her claws, pulling up a tendril of it only to watch it sink back down into the bowl. Perhaps just willing the star into existence wasn’t enough, so she tried imagining it. With a new clump of stardust in her palm, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine the star, its gentle warmth and soft yellow glow. As she opened her eyes she could see the dust begin to stir, coalescing around a point just above her palm.

The star itself was nothing special, but its warmth made Cosmia giddy with delight. It was ordinary, perfectly ordinary and plain, but it was hers. She marveled at it, and at the fact that just moments before the star was nothing more than a pinch of silvery dust in a bowl. She beamed as she raised the little star up to the sky to join countless others her people had made, but she would always know where the first star she made was. It was an exhilarating feeling, the satisfaction of creation. And Cosmia realized she couldn’t just stop with one star.

She looked down again at the bowl of stardust cradled in the crook of her arm, wondering what else she could make. The star was easy enough, so she began to think of something grander to make. With a flourish of her claws, she flung up a trail of stardust into an arc, concentrating as the dust began to glow with the light of thousands of stars. The proto-nebula took shape above her head, iridescent gas and infant stars casting shadows across her radiant smile. A fervor was beginning to grip Cosmia, the fervor to create. Next was a belt of asteroids, then comets that darted across the sky faster than she could blink. Planets joined her stars, ranging from turquoise gas giants to rocky worlds caked in lava. She yelped as a particularly scorching planet grazed her ear, but it devolved into a giggle as she sent it back to orbit around its star. Her creations were not as polished as those created by her elders, but she was still proud of what she had made.

Her little galaxy was beginning to take form from a fervent scattering of stardust, and the now empty bowl clattered to the ground as she launched herself to float among her creations. It didn’t matter how short-lived they might be, for she knew in her heart that the elders would not allow her stars and planets to exist for much longer after they were discovered. Proving herself capable didn’t matter in the moment, nor did the impending punishment for her disobedience. She could only feel mirth as she marveled at the universe she made.

[PleaserOfCrowds]

username + number :: PleaserOfCrowds 756851
kalon name :: Flare
prompt ::

Nobody really knew who the newcomer was in town, and while they were polite enough it was hard to discern just who exactly they were. They were friendly enough, but it seemed like they held others at arms length. They never seemed to share anything about themselves when talked to, instead preferring to listen to what others had to say. To those they talked to on a occasional basis, all of them didn’t even know their name.

Exactly how they wanted it. They’d preferred if they’d stayed in the background, to be nobody worth noting. A blank canvas for the newest chapter of their life with none of the previous chapters mentioned, leaving the past behind for a uncertain, yet peaceful time. Perhaps it was the mundanity that they sought for, or perhaps just a break in a sea of uncertainty. It was better to be a blank slate right now, than return to the chaotic mistakes that colored their life for so long.

It was daunting to try and start this new chapter of their life, not certain where exactly to start after everything else that happened before. The history that they’ve finally escaped from before, haunted by their past actions and the people they were with. No family, no friends left for them to come back to after years and years of turmoils, with the scars to show. No name, no traceable past, it was better to start anew thousands of miles away from what they used to call home. It was justifiable that some things needed to burn down in order to start anew, when the only ways things could better was to run and never turn back.

They’d always try their best to seem normal, at least enough for people to not get too suspicious of them (how normal they actually seemed, was up to debate). It was a transitional period, they’d figured. Eventually, they reasoned that would get easier to fill that blank space once they felt comfortable enough, which was a difficult task with how closed off they were, just in case danger ever came up again.. In the canvas that was their life at the moment, they were lost and uncertain how it would turn out. They soon realized after talking to a couple of others, they didn’t really have any goals they pursued or sense of direction now. Back home, everything was determined by someone else, for better or worse as refusing an offer could’ve spelt a death sentence.

But now, this was their life to choose, away from the violence. They could choose who they wanted to be, rather than just relying on survival. Everything now was up to them, their own destiny now left up to themselves. They could be a photographer who could wait patiently for the perfect shot of the sky, a artist who could paint things they saw from nature, or even perhaps something of a classical musician. Perhaps, they could look into learning to crochet some stuffed animals or even glassblowing (from the videos they’d watched, it seemed fascinating). Before they were to get started on discovering hobbies and such, it was important to have a starting point for their identity.

The first step was to decide on a new name for themselves, which they decided on Flare. They’d figured that they’d felt like they rose from the ashes of fire, yet just as ever resilient and determined to make a better life for themselves. A name was a beginning point for what seemed like a blank canvas at first akin to the first stroke of a pen, which they could built upon further as time went on.

For now however, they were satisfied with that name. A new chapter of their life was exhausting, yet very much needed with the future uncertain, but bright…

[T w e x i a]

Mark!

[cyrevan]

Markk and actually the cover art is so good :000

[Foxghost]

username + number :: Rosemoon #941592
kalon name :: Kammy Highroad
prompt ::

Blank Canvas

Anything can be a blank canvas
If you try hard enough

The sands at the beach
Each dotted with little shells
And the waves constantly washing it anew
It's there for you to paint it
With your footsteps along the shores
And your castles rising from the ground

The sky in the early morning
Clouds brushing across
The painted purples and oranges
Turning to a bright blue
It's there for you to connect the dots
And find silly pictures in the cumulus
And watch as planes draw doodles
Across the morning stars

The new apartment you move into
Your imagination running wild
There's sunflowers on the walls
And mushrooms on the curtains
There's stone rabbits wandering about
And a dragon in the den
He breathes out smoke
That smells like cherries and sandalwood

The skin on your body
Freckles and cellulite
Give inspiration
The curves and waves
The complexion and scars
Everything opens the mind
To new opportunities

The mind at night
Open to many things
Like how to tame a unicorn
Or how to slay a dragon
Like how to be a hero
Or how to give a speech at school
Maybe you're at a wedding
And it's in outer space
Or you're running from a monster
And time is wearing thin

Maybe it's just the way
That you live your life
From the moment your born
Until the day you die
You paint your life in different colors
Create numerous characters
And add yourself to each portrait
Every day is a new part of the picture

So live your life
Like everything is a blank canvas
Like every day will be your last
And you're a starving artist
Trying to show the world
That you exist

[Beezhivez]

username + number :: Beezhivez + 1048050
kalon name :: Ahendra
prompt ::

"He's a blank canvas!" They would say, always open, willing to learn and rarely emoting, really. Others said he had not a pinch of personality, he never showed anything to anyone. As such, no one really attempted to get close to him.

I guess that's what sparked my curiosity.

I was an artist, my mind always sparkling with ideas and flowing with creativity. I was often compared to something like a soda, waiting for my next idea to build up its pressure before EXPLODING from the cap like I was shaken. I was the song looping in your head, the lollipop wadded into your fur, that one annoying bug that somehow stuck around you wherever you went that you began to semi-affectionately name because, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get rid of the mere idea of me.

To find someone, a possible friend, who was so.. odd. At least to me, it was like hovering a magnet over iron filaments. It didn't take long for me to approach him. It was a surprise to me, really, him sitting by the fountain in my favorite part of the park. I wouldn't have thought to see him there. He was staring, off into the distance, lost in thought when I walked up to him. I gently waved a paw and he blinked, snapping out of it.

"..What are you doing?"

"Oh! Uh- can I sit here? I usually sit here and sketch the view, but, well, I don't want to make you uncomfortable if I do!"

"...no. You're fine."

And that was that. Every other day after that was the same, He'd be there before me, staring off into the middle distance. I'd snap him out of it, sit next to them, and we'd be right next to each other. Sometimes in silence, other times I would begin talking about my day or a project I was working on, or complain about a co-worker or a classmate. He could have found me annoying at the time, but he never said anything. He'd always sit stone-faced and staring, like a statue of white accented with those brilliant gold eyes.

One day, though, things changed. During my ramblings he had looked down at my sketchbook, and muttered something.

At first I didn't catch it, I was too busy caught up talking about mythology. It wasn't until he coughed did my hyperfocusing break. I stopped suddenly, my once excited rambling going dead-silent. I looked up at him, my eyes crinkled and grinning. My tail flicked about, just barely restraining my want to lash it about in happiness and to tackle this guy I was basically acquaintances with.

"Sorry, I was too focused, what did you say?" I asked once my eagerness calmed. He cleared his throat again, looking away for a moment, mumbling. Thank goodness I was always good at catching quiet things.

"..uh.. the.. the thing you're drawing.. could I.. take it?" He muttered, not looking in my direction. I paused for a moment to process it, before nodding.

"Oh! Oh yeah, sure, it's no problem! I was finished anyway! Here-" I tore it from the book, handing it over to him. He took it in his paw, letting out a sigh. His shoulders relaxed, and he began looking off into the distance again. I assumed that was that and looked to the sky for inspiration, before his voice caught my ear again.

"Oh- sorry, what was that? I didn't hear you." I asked, glancing over at him. He was still staring ahead, for a second I thought it was the trick of my mind, before his jaws began moving again.

"Ahendra. My name."

He came back a week and a few days after taking the picture with an exact copy- except on his body.

A winding image of a cobra on his back left leg, slithering up his thigh and spreading out onto his back. Vines and thorns stuck into the serpent's body, buds of unbloomed flowers dotting the thing. The only bloomed ones was the one in it's opened mouth and the flower crown adorning its head. It was a big contrast to his white fur and faint, pastel stripes twisting around his body. I called it beautiful, and that I was honored. He was so surprised by the fact that I was amazed by him getting a tattoo of my work that he began to laugh and flush, and I thought it was the most entrancing thing.

We began to spend more time together at that park. This time he was more open. He began to talk about his hobbies. (And man did I understand what "give an inch, take a mile" meant back then!) The reason why he was so blocked off and cold to others was because of his anxiety. He worried so much about others thinking about him that he really didn't open himself up to get hurt.

But when he began to.. it was hard to believe, but he began to act more like himself at that point. I was so used to this Kalon of ice-cold quips, barely emoting and showing interest in my things, that it was almost a complete flip of the coin when he began talking about plants- especially flowering vines and large, bright flower-types- where his face would light up ever so slightly. His mouth had that slight grin and his eyes brightened up just a tad. To me, whenever he showed he was happy, it was like seeing something that was asleep for a hundred years and had just awoken to speak to you and you alone.

He was ethereal.

Everyone saw him as a blank canvas. If that were true, I suppose it only took a creative paw and a gentle, open mind to help carve away his protective plastic cover and spread the beautiful colors of his own personality and being to help him shine through.

(1000 words EXACTLY!!!!!!!!!)

[SilhouetteStation]

mark

[SolarSam]

username + number :: SolarSam + 836917
kalon name :: Macintosh
prompt :: [946 words]

Mac stepped out onto the busy street outside her home, sparse synthetic fur bristling in the cold wind.
She immediately regretted not bringing her scarf, but with a quick glance at the time, decided it was too late to go back in and get it now.
Instead, she quickened her pace, hoping that that might warm her up a little.
She could simply turn on her internal heating system... but that would require a lot of energy, and she wasn't sure how long it would be until she next had access to a charging station.
With a heavy sigh, she resigned herself to her temporarily uncomfortable fate, silently lamenting her lack of a portable charger.
Those things were just too dang expensive.
But no matter - it would all be worth it in the end.

A while later, a brightly lit neon sign came into view, indicating that she had finally reached her destination.
Excitement flitted along her circuits and she bounced slightly, unable to keep a thrilled grin off of her face.
She checked her hair in the glass-windows of the shop to make sure the incessant wind hadn't ruffled it too terribly (not that there was much there to ruffle), then pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Inside was a rather small, but nonetheless professional looking tattoo parlor.
It was also, much to Mac's relief, a lot warmer than outside.
Above the door, a motion-sensor activated chime sounded as Mac made her way to the front desk.
She smiled at the kal sitting there, letting them know that she had an appointment.
They brightened at that, looking her up and down before saying: "Right, you must be Mac! I'm Kira, nice to meet 'cha".
Kira grinned, holding out their paw for Mac to shake before leading her to a worn-looking chair at the back of the room.
It was open-back, presumably for customers with longer tails, though that was of course not relevant to Mac.

While she got comfortable, Kira busied themselves with preparing all the neccesary equipment, keeping up idle chatter all the while.
"Haven't seen you around here before - this your first tattoo than?" Mac nodded.
"That's great, the first one's always exciting! It's like you're a completely blank canvas and I get to be the first to paint on you".
With a flourish, they turned around, holding an engraving machine in one paw and disenfectant in the other.
Mac huffed, amused by their enthusiasm. "I suppose that's one way to look at it."
"So, you know what you want it to look like yet? If not, I'll let you have a look at my portfolio - some pretty great stuff in there if I do say so myself."
"No, I know what I want" Mac smiled, pointing at her arm so Kira could wipe it down in preparation.
"I'd like a string of hearts vine, about..." she gestured with her paws. "This big, I think."
Kira hummed.
"I can do that. You should turn off your sensors though - I know there's folks out there who say you should keep 'em on for a more 'authentic experience', but I really wouldn't recommend it."
They grimaced theatrically, and Mac did as she was told, shutting off all touch and pain sensors in her arm.
It was left feeling strangely numb - but Kira was right, better that than the pain.

After she was done, they got to work, carefully etching the design into the dark metal making up Mac's skin.
It looked pretty much exactly like that of non-mechanical kals, just with a faint, unnatural purple hue to it that was barely noticable even under the bright fluorescent lights of the shop.
Once the outer layer of metal was removed, what was underneath stood out in stark white, the design slowly taking shape.
Kira worked carefully and methodically, still keeping up the conversation throughout.
Mac was more than happy to talk to her, to help make the time pass just a little bit faster - and she supposed it was a habit also suited to distracting those who could not simply turn off their pain receptors like Mac could.
It took less long to complete than she had anticipated, and soon enough, Kira was turning off the machine and dusting off her finished work.

"There, all done! We don't even need to wrap it in plastic like we do for Organics, lucky you."
Mac smiled, taking in the artwork now covering a part of her body - the delicate vines of the string of hearts plant wrapped around her entire arm, heart-shaped leaves dotted across it in irregular intervals.
It presented a nice contrast to the geometrical shapes of her shine, entirely unorganic in their nature.
"It's beautiful" she breathed, tilting her arm this way and that to get a good look at the whole design.
"I'm glad you like it!" Kira chirped.
"Feel free to come back for more any time, my door's always open."
They helped her out of the chair and back to the front desk to pay.

After the transaction was complete, Mac bid them farewell and turned to leave, with Kira calling after them: "We do piercings too, by the way! In case you ever want to get those nice big ears of yours accessorized - seriously, you've got SO much space there, I'm almost jealous."
Mac laughed, loud and bright in the cold evening air, and turned towards Kira one last time.
"I'll think about it!"
Then she left the shop, the door gently closing behind her.
On her way home, she contemplated all of the potential the rest of her as of yet unmarked skin still held - a blank canvas, indeed.

[dracopia]

username + number :: dracopia & 897535
kalon name :: Malbec Mourvèdre
prompt ::
Tears, anger, bottles smashing against the pavement.
picture frame skittered across the floor, discarded. polaroids crinkle under the surface, a flame peeks through the face you never want to see again. smoke billows as another angry tear falls and mixes with the singe.
you curl your knees into your chest. you don't even register you're still crying - they don't deserve these tears. you didn't deserve the way you were treated by them.
a soft but bitter winter breeze swirls the remnants of ash and polaroid around the porch around you. you shiver .. this isn't worth your energy. the front screen door slams.
.
.
a drip drop of red wax hits the circular canvas once, twice; splatters onto the floor tiles. an angry but calculated splash of untouched red wine hits next, spills onto the tile. the dark stain sinks into the canvas , dries. another splash, a different angle. a splatter through the center, with blueberry wine this time.
you sprinkle rose petals and hibiscus atop and let it dry. a tad more wax, as well.
a few days later , the singed polaroids are pinned into the canvas- only this time the photos are hung up, it's only of you and the negative space the flames left. you don't deserve how they treated you. you are better.
you will start anew ... you will make something beautiful of this pain.
[ 227 words ]
based on my own experience with a painting that remains unfinished