[PopcornBush]

Username:PopcornBush
Name: Chai
Gender: male
Mask: wipp

[ty_tay]

Mark

[Teri]

Usᴇʀɴᴀᴍᴇ: Tᴇʀɪ | Nᴀᴍᴇ: Esᴇsʜᴀ | Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ: Dᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ...?

Your first mask was a simple one. Two dashes of colour on plain pure white, like a gift in red and black - your colours. It stood out on the mask-seller's stall, with a subtle cherry-bright smile, and somehow in among all the other vibrant, vigorous faces it called to you.

You stood there for a time, looking at it. You couldn't say what you were doing was admiring it, exactly - not when the thoughts that ran through your head were, 'I wish I were elegant like that,' and, more plaintively, 'What if I were that happy?' But you lost track of time, letting the passing crowd shove you as people wandered by. It was only when the stall's keeper called out to you that you snapped awake.

On a whim, you bought it. You had the money to spare, though it'd mean passing up your usual treat of tea at the end of the week.

You ran home as if carrying something secret and shameful, mask wrapped in paper, and took it out again only in the safety behind the sliding screen door. Wind whispered over the leaves outside as you picked it up, reverently, and put it on, and -

You thought again, with a different emphasis: 'What if I were that happy?' and then you pretended. You were that elegant, that beautiful, that capable. That subtle smile was your smile, because your life was going the way you wanted it - and if it weren't, you'd make it that way.

Later on, you wouldn't remember this. Later on, you'd lose all memory of your first name, your home, your everything, as you traded mask after mask after mask one after another. But this feeling would stay: the satisfaction, of exchanging a face you didn't like for a new one.

No one even noticed as you began to wear the mask more and more.

Your second mask was more ambitious. Gold as fire, as the setting sun, yellow as courage and royalty. You took one look at the serene, emotionless face, and decided maybe you could stand to live unshaken for a while - solid and unwavering as stone.

And you were. Not quite so cold and hard as steel, but unaffected all the same - hearing of a birth would do as little to you as hearing of a death. The voices of people slipped off your back like water, warm or cold or pleading or furious. The only thing that affected you still was the delicate beauty of nature, of a falling petal or babbling brook - when you looked at that mask, you thought: this was the kind of person who'd appreciate that sort of thing.

You gave it up eventually. It wasn't for you - you liked interacting with people too much. That was why you'd first put on a mask, after all - you all alone were too scared to attract any company. But it was a beautiful mask all the same, and this one you sometimes still remembered hundreds of faces later.

Your next mask was an angry one, blue with rage. It didn't mean you were always angry, but with this face you always knew how to speak your mind. You pushed for things you wanted, you got loud when something didn't go your way.

In return, you were just as loud when you were happy. You shared that emotion with everyone, spreading the joy with gifts and with kind words.

Sometimes you pushed too much, and back then you knew that without the mask you'd have scared yourself. You'd have apologized, begged for forgiveness, and crept away on whispering feet.

Now you gloried in the freedom of a face that wouldn't make you do it.

Your masks fluctuated as much as the seasons, if not more. Sometimes you were a whirling devilish disaster, sometimes a kind saint, sometimes a person so strange others weren't sure what would be under your mask if they lifted it and sometimes someone normal enough to settle for a time in one place.

But you could never sit still for long. Always, you'd see another face somewhere and know you had to change yours again - you were tired of being the person you now were.

It became an addiction. The day you realized that was a weight off your shoulders - if you couldn't control yourself, was it your fault if you couldn't stop changing faces? If some of them were hated, or if you let ones that were loved vanish beyond recovery?

You kept only one rule in all your incarnations. A new mask must be bought, or traded for - obtained honestly. Stealing was no way to find a new face.

Once your face was old, for a time. Old and kind, and you walked with a stoop you couldn't seem to be rid of. The children in your new town were curious, whispering over your mask that you never took off, creeping closer day by day.

You made friends with them. You made them little wooden toys, and you helped them understand their assignments from school, and eventually their mothers knew that if someone hadn't come home yet, they were playing with some of the others in your tiny front garden. They came to know you themselves

You took good care of your flowers, and the children lavished them with the same care. That spring and summer, they all bloomed bright as a stall of masks you could only half remember, and the sun shined like a blessing nearly every day.

You became particularly good friends with a lonely kit who came nearly every day. Black and white, his fur was, and though he didn't know how to make them real, his eyes bubbled with dreams for the future.

x
x
Your next face stole him while it was leaving the town that was suddenly too boring to bear.

You sold him on the road to the highest bidder.

You thought it was the funniest prank you'd ever heard of, and you laughed about it for days.
x
x

And then - then, one day you made a mistake. You looked at a new face, the expression in its eyes chilling, and you thought -

Well. You'd love to say you chose the wrong mask to take. Technically, it's not even wrong. If it weren't for that mask, you might have gone on forever, making bright spots in some people's lives, leaving some untouched, and ruining others. But you know now you can't blame anyone but yourself, and -

And you looked at that mask, and you thought: I need it. And you also thought: I don't think I've ever been a real monster. I wonder what it's like?

The owner wouldn't sell, and you nearly walked away with nothing worse than the tinge of disappointment in your fingers. But your face was a trickster's face, right then, and you thought: what if, what if...

It was the first time you broke your rule. You snuck in in the middle of the night, and you stole your new monster's face.

What happened when you decided to be a monster would be remembered as a legend, years later. A myth, the kind you whispered to children to tell them to be good. The kind they whisper to each other, sniggering at the terrified faces someone with new ears would make.

What you left behind were horrors.

A few days later you were wandering the wilderness when someone appeared as if out of nowhere and ripped off your face. Abruptly you were faceless - and terrified. You were nothing, nothing without a face -

The Kalon spoke to you. You still cannot be sure if you ever saw its mouth move.

"Yᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ꜰᴀʀ, ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ꜰᴀᴋᴇʀ, ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇɴᴅᴇʀ. Yᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴍᴀsᴋs."

Your fingers grasped at your facelessness and met soft, naked fur. You would have been screaming if someone without a face could scream.

The Kalon tossed something in front of you - the shape was faintly rounded, nearly flat. You knew what it was, and you scrabbled for it desperately.

"Tʜɪs ɪs ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴀsᴛ Mᴀsᴋ, ᴄʜɪʟᴅ. Wᴇᴀʀ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟꜰ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ - ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴇʟsᴇ ᴀɴʏᴍᴏʀᴇ."

You realized what it looked like as you were putting it on, and abruptly you knew you would never be able to wear another. You wouldn't even be able to touch another one, or look at one for long. Almost immediately, you raised your voice to protest - you couldn't -

But the Kalon was gone.

And now, this face, this long forgotten face that you knew had once been yours - that was the one you'd have to keep.



For a long time, you did nothing. You could do nothing. You had no idea how this face would act. You stumbled along through the wilderness, scraping out some sort of survival.

Slowly, slowly, you came to realize your mistakes.

Every once in a while, you would take off your face, and you would look at it with hatred. Not for the simplicity, or for the same reasons you'd hated yourself so long ago - no. You looked at it, and you knew this was the face of someone who'd chosen to be a thief, a kidnapper, a trickster who hurt everyone they came across for laughs. A monster.

But what other face did you have? You put it back on again and kept going as you always had.

It took far longer for you to realize what you could do.

Maybe you couldn't put on a different mask. But you had one last chance.

Paint was hard to find, and you'd resolved never to steal again. You found berries instead, as the season edged into summer again - crushed rocks and plants until you found the colours you wanted. Collected furs and feathers and branches. Gold, like courage and serenity. Blue, like a face that knew how to be both angry and happy. Gray, like kindness - that one, somehow, was the easiest to find. And, finally, the green of new lives - a new start.

Your final Mᴀsᴋ: was - well, you could see some similarities. But it was different enough that you knew it'd be a different person who wore it. A forest guardian, perhaps, gentle and expressive, and if you stayed out here you'd never have to look at the people you'd...

But was that really what you wanted?

This was your last shot. If you put this on, you'd be this face, but you'd never stop running away - you'd just be pretending, yet again.

Wouldn't it be a better idea to make yourself who you wanted to be?

You looked at your beautiful new face - new mask - again. This was the kind of person you wanted to be, but this wasn't the way to do it. Instead... instead you'd carry it with you, to see what face you should aspire to.

You slung it over your shoulder and went off to discover yourself.

divider source; all else by me

[dorayaki]

Ahhh res

[waffle02]

Beautiful design definitely reserving! <3
Still an absolutely gorgeous design, but I've fallen in love with another Kalon so I want to devote the time I have for art towards them. Good luck everyone!! :3

[néktar]

marking to watch <;

[castiiian]

possible res

[iHolli]

Username:
Name:
Gender:
Mask:

{Aaa kitsunes are wonderful and this kid is gorgeous,,, def res ;o;}

.Holli.

[Paints]

Username:
Name:
Gender:
Mask:

Res

[friendshapedbox]

Username: slytherin;
Name: tbd
Gender: tbd
Mask: mask the dark blue is supposed
to be darker than the grey in the ears but lighter than
the black for the eye holes