Re: Kalon #1100 — Pastel Peacock (OPEN, Round 1)

Postby Lady Tuesday » Sat Jul 29, 2017 3:33 am

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Personality: (Who are they? 1000 words maximum)
Color Choice: Blue

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Re: Kalon #1100 — Pastel Peacock (OPEN, Round 1)

Postby Takk » Sat Jul 29, 2017 5:29 am

:Username:
Takk
:Name:
Felidae Mino
:Gender:
Female

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:Personality:
Who's that walking down the street? She's dressed in costume, beautiful and flowing as she walks. Any kalon who knows the Night Vision club knows the flick of her tail and the fierceness in her name. The one and only Felidae, a gifted exotic dancer with a huge heart and knack for trickery. One of the new naive looking girls who knows when she's being lied to.
While her name refers to wild and untamed, she rises above her title and with the flick of her claws hypnotists men and woman alike with her graceful dancing. She's nothing short of mysterious and gifted when she's on the stage, a faint smile painted across her face as if their hungry eyes don't bother her.
Off the stage is another kalon, very soft spoken and kind hearted. Felidae is famously known for donating funds to orphan organizations and cancer research facilities. She loves children and is one of those kalons who wants to see the suffering of the world end already. While friendly isn't quite the word for her, she sticks up for the weak and looks out for those she cares about as well as strangers in need.
The family friends of this dancer think she's light hearted and funny, looking to bring up a damp mood or support them in times of need. Felidae is a very good listener and finds comfort in singing or listening to instrumental music. Walking into her home is a wave of peaceful and welcoming vibes, that same light smile on her face as a friend enters. Incense burn by the window, usually something floral or that educes relaxation.
Only her closest friends know she struggles to keep herself up, looking for a reason to get out of bed and face the world. Her job has chased away a lot of potential lovers, but she tries to look past it since she's not alone in life. Felidae loves poetry, dance, song and dreams as much as any kit and does her best to help others live her life. Never being beaten down or afraid of death coming to your door as she fears getting sick and never getting better...
A dancer who loves to garden and grow flowers or herbs on her spare time. When she walks on stage, as if magic a trail of beautiful flowers bloom behind her before the show or introductions begin. Her glass like legs shimmer in the light, rumors she was born without them have sprouted around but she swears she was born with them. Truly gifted, beautiful, kind and selfless unlike most who share a similar fortune as her.

:Color Choice:
Purple
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Miryiam [Blue]

Postby BoomARat » Sat Jul 29, 2017 5:55 am

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She races through the woods, trying to find their call. She looks high and low, but cannot find it. Then suddenly, Miryiam spots the creature on the ground. It's leg encased within a snare. Gently opens the snare, the creature, glows with approval. After, Miryiam throws the snare out of the way, unset. Picking up the beautiful fawn, Miryaim carries it around her shoulders, and takes her to her
cottage...

This is who Myiriam is, kind, brave, and known as their guardian. Her Sun Stone, strongest of them all, gives her strength beyond what is normal, to heal the wounded and sick. This is what it is like in the Eden of Everest. Miryiam keeps all the blue, crystal like creatures in protection, against those such as, poachers.

The glowing, blue fawn, whines as Miryiam sets her down on the couch. It trembles in pain, until Miryiam wraps it warmly in a woven blanket. It falls fast asleep, knowing that Miryiam's sunstone will heal it's pain. Sun stones reside within every creature living upon this paradise. Once broken, the are banished, they no longer are untainted.

Myriam's Sun Stone around her neck serves as a protection. She values everything the sun touches. Even things that try to hurt her, she keeps the sun's 'wishes', and respects and protects them all. But, when the sun hides it's rays behind clouds, Miryiam changes, especially if something has been tainted. Hurt an animal in the Eden of Everest, no longer belongs.

The rain starts to fall through the clouds, but instantly turns to a trickling snow. Miryiam draws her claws out, and grabs a knife. Poachers... She walkes through the door, and listens to the earth for it's 'crying'. And from those mumbles, she runs in that direction. No mercy is shown until the sun kisses the ground once more. Her eyes are dead, and as cold as the night.

Poachers kill the rare blue creatures residing within this Eden. The've even plucked Miryiam's feathers, for money, fame, or some other glory. Suffering through all this Miryiam knows what it's like to be an animal, and she's proud of it...

Miryiam calls some of the bigger, and extremely more dangerous creatures from the forest to help her out. They all listen to the earth and follow the rumbles. Their headed strait to the poachers. Once there, Miryaim will knock them out, and will bring them down the mountain. About half way there, she will leave them on a ledge. When the poachers wake up, they can choose death or life. Head up the mountain, or, return home down the mountain.

The poachers were shocked, and had no clue what happened. They almost forgot what had happened. So they decided to make war with the Eden of Everest, and made their way up the mountain. The sun began to shear its way through the clouds, and follow the men walking up the mountain. Miryiam knows what they choose.

A big avalanche started from the top of the mountain, and the poachers look up. A wall, over 80 mph, heads their way. For the poacher's it is their execution, but for Miryiam, it is the cleansing of their only home.

"Our home must be protected..."


[Color Choice: Blue]
Last edited by BoomARat on Sun Jul 30, 2017 1:33 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: Kalon #1100 — Pastel Peacock (OPEN, Round 1)

Postby kittykore » Sat Jul 29, 2017 10:27 am

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Username: MimiBitz
Name: Hope
Gender: Female
Color Choice: Blue
Personality: Hope is a kindred spirit, she isn't too well known around her town but everyone has seen her once or twice. She doesn't talk too much and never stays in one place for too long, from what people know about her Hope is very optimistic, she doesn't like to think negative, she's a glass half full kinda gal and likes to keep it that way. At times Hope can be seen as clingy and very whiny but it depends on the person she hangs around. She's very simple minded and gets distracted very easily. Hope is a general nuisance but a kind one none the less.
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a large amount of screaming

Postby ruse » Sat Jul 29, 2017 10:50 am

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i hate that if you let me shatter,
i’d apologize for being so fragile.

Image Image--



      um space????
      username amative
      name mallory
      gender trans fem
      color choice purple
      personality below

      "mallory young?"
      a woman walks in. immediately your eyes take in her every detail, just as they did before for the other auditions. you can pick out
      parts of her. she seems like she's trying to hide within herself somehow, despite her body structure, similar to the sharpness of a la
      rge picture frame. her hand, fingers long like she recently came from the music room after practice, strays to her face, where her
      hair comes to silhouette the shape of it. duly, you note that she is beautiful in the typical way (not pretty enough to stand out in a
      large crowd, though pretty enough to stand out in this room of ten other people.) the woman appears like she remembers herself
      now, becoming like a toy in a box coming back to life, strings turning loose.
      clear-voiced, she responds, "i'm mallory." her voice arches against the walls, beats against them like the sound of bells, accent chip
      ped slightly. you can't put a finger on it immediately nor do you care to; it's fine as long as she can get rid of it while reading the sc
      ript.
      a lazy "trying out for the female lead, right? you can start whenever," comes from the right, and you recognize it's the director of t
      his film. there's a click and a snap and the welcome atmosphere has washed away and something else replaces it. you look at her a
      gain, her eyes shut. you wait for her to come back to life; you can see her eyelashes for a moment, dark and lengthy like a doll's.
      she changes, becoming someone else entirely now. she seems more flashy, she's more confident. everything about her seems more
      angled now and at the same time more fluid. like a peacock comes to mind somehow and you dismiss it. it doesn't occur to you unt
      il she speaks again who she has become. she says, "i'm the stuff your dreams are made out of."

      mallory has always seen herself as someone ordinary. she blends into crowds, she looks at her feet when she walks. to her, nothing
      she does seems distinguishing enough to say, "hey, that's such a mallory thing to do." in some ways, it's something good; boring peo
      ple are supposed to make better actors anyways, being so boring they can shift and change personalities as they please. mallory li
      kes to think she falls under that umbrella as well. she struggles especially with the fact that each person has a specific mal they ne
      ed at each moment, and it's never the mal she wants to be (she's not sure who she wants to be, but she knows, she wants to be som
      eone who is loved for their faults and their perfections and their mediocre points too, because she'll give you those same considera
      tions without hesitation. honestly though, she got into acting because she wanted to kiss like how they did in the movies and then f
      ell in love with the unexpected, the whole process and idea pf acting). think of her as a light of some kind; most days she's low on l
      ife, like the light you kept in the corner of your bedroom when you were younger, afraid of complete black. but she'll light up when
      someone recognizable passes by, she'll nearly blind you. see, the thing is, she can be so many different people; there's even so man
      y ways to play her name (mallory, mal, lory, ry, allie; essentially, a lot of nicknames for one person, but one person who feels like t
      wenty people all at once). people like her are made to dazzle, even if they hide under layers of self-made insecurities or under a b
      lanket of their feathers and fears. mallory wears her heart on her sleeve usually, never leaving home without it in place. she's the t
      ype to open your new water bottles for you, tie your shoelaces when the bunny ears start to tug off; cup your knee for reassurance,
      smile at you from across the room. kiss you hug you love you, take care of you; she has a way of making others feel like they are w
      anted so completely by her. and she does, really; she loves people and all their complexity and complicity. she treats others just a
      s she would like to be treated honestly; she has no horror story replacing her backstory like people of fiction do, she's merely lonel
      y. at her core, mallory is just another person who's feeling lost and low on time, someone special who sees someone typical in the
      mirror (759 words).
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an anomaly )

Postby tooru » Sat Jul 29, 2017 3:56 pm

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fly

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☀username // tooru . gender // female . colour // blue
" she loves the serene brutality of the ocean, loves the electric power she felt with each breath of wet, briny air.”
xxxxx through the churning mass of ocean and the pitch of night, your eyes catch on a bleary form. the ship slowly comes into view, small but sturdy against the blistering gale of the battering waves and the screeching wind. for a moment you panic - what malignant purpose could this ship approaching you hold in its cabins? but then there is something else, a gentle and pulsating blue blistering against the black backdrop of the night. a shimmer of colour and it is gone again, replaced by seething darkness. you are cautious now, but inexplicably unafraid. something in that gentle light calmed you, drags you in curiously towards its charm. the ship grows ever closer in the roaring waters, and you allow it.
xxxxx it is not long before the ramshackle ship is floating alongside yours, and only a few heartbeats more before she boards your vessel. you have never seen anything like her, and are certain that you will never see anything like her again. her ease initially puts you at unrest, but eventually lulls you into relaxation as well. unsure, you ask her name. her voice is a thin wisp, rasping but light, almost too quiet to be quite sure of what she says. you are almost certain that she says 'adeleine'. she follows this up by asking the oddest of questions: 'can i tell you about my life'?
xxxxx and there is nothing else you can answer but to utter an acceptance, to hear out her story. her purpose is still unclear, but you are curious. so you both settle into comfort, and she unravels her tale.
xxxxx it seems she was born on an island. one of good size, and with a spectacular amount of resources. enough to sustain her for her entire life. she explains that she would have been glad to remain there until her body turned to mush with the sand. there she was alone, but never lonely. she would continuously build her home, repeatedly strip the island of its resources before replenishing it all once again. it was a simple life, a quiet kind of harmony. you notice that as she speaks her eyes have the distant fog of nostalgia, and the brilliant shine of longing. you feel a great swell of pity for her past home, even though you could never even fathom an idea of what it was like. she moves on quickly in that arid tone, expression quickly morphing. there is fury etched onto her features. the range of emotions she has shown in such a short period of time surprises you, especially since you have only known about her existence for a short while.
xxxxx but as she speaks it become obvious that she is not reliving all of these events for you, not truly. in reality, it is clear that she is doing it for herself. possibly so that she doesn't forget these events. more likely to renew her grudge against whatever it was that occurred. yet despite the emotions shown across her face, it is clear that she cherishes these memories, that she relished in the life that she had. you find yourself wondering what could have gone so wrong in a place devoid of the rest of the world's grave nature.
xxxxx a fire, she explains. she details how a floating structure grew close to her home, and that she had watched with fascination. it was dark, calm. nothing alarming, until a small red glow softly appeared on its exterior. her voice grows fearful now. it is clear that she had never seen such a phenomenon befoe like fire. briefly, you consider that she may not even know what a ship is. anxiety edges in as she explains it spreading, twisting and churning around the mass of dark stability, warping and pulling at its exterior. while the fire ripped everything apart, the relentless wind refused to yield to the event. and as this, the aggression and searing hot of the flames spread to her home. it is only now that you realize parts of her fur are singed.
xxxxx her determination to save her island must have outweighed the terror of facing the unknown. you understand now that she is much tougher than she initially let on to be, that her lanky form is built with muscle and power. she is hardened - she is not soft.
xxxxx "so what brought you to my boat?" you cannot help to inquire. out of this whole puzzle, it is the one piece that remains loose: what could have possibly inspired her to board your own ship? but then she looks at you, slight confusion hidden behind her vibrant eyes. realization dawns on her features, rupturing them into something else entirely. "oh, honey," her sounds are laced with icy ferocity, laden with danger. there is something else in the backdrop of her tone as well - you recognize it as a swell of pity, a quiet note begging for forgiveness.
xxxxx forgiveness for what? "didn't you realize that i needed a ship to pave my way to somewhere new?" her pretty head is tilted now, leering at you with malignant capability. you find yourself suddenly scrambling backwards against cool and soaked wooden boards. she does not move away. this was a mistake, you realize. she advances on you now, closing the distance you tried to put between the two of you. "and you will only get in my way."
xxxxx and it is only too late that you realize her tantalizing blue lights are much like that of an angler fish's, and that just beyond that glow she hides razor knives for teeth.
xxxxx she pushes you from your own ship. you plummet towards the surging brine below, gasping desperately at the torn air for your life.
xxxxxxxxxx [ 951 / 1000 words ]
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Re: Kalon #1100 — Pastel Peacock (OPEN, Round 1)

Postby winkatuck » Sat Jul 29, 2017 6:35 pm

Username: Winkatuck
Name: Satchel
Gender: Male
Personality: Satchel is your average everyday Kalon, he doesn't particularly stand out personality-wise. He's the opposite of what most think his appearance suggests. While Satchel is shy and anxious of new experiences and Kalons, others will assume he thinks himself better than them. It couldn't be farther from the truth. As cliche as it sounds, Satchel becomes very boisterous and talkative around closer friends and family. He's not a prince, he's not some vain snooty know it all. He's just like any other Kalon. Just looking to lead a semi-normal and stress free life. If anything Satchel see's his flamboyant appearance more of a curse than a blessing.

When presented with the opportunity to help someone, with the supervision of a friend or family member of course, Satchel is willing to go to any length to do something good for someone. If he wasn't so shy he'd do it by himself, only young children seem to wander towards him and make him feel comfortable enough alone with them. Outside of this he's rather non-confrontational.

A strong point for Satchel is when he's put under a lot of pressure. When it comes to him, he'd gladly be the doormat for others. He's easily taken advantage of and gullible. This is one reason he doesn't like to approach others without a friend or family member. Satchel doesn't take crap from other's who lash out at his close friends and family, however. Rarely does Satchel become aggressive, he likes to think he's a pacifist at heart. But when it comes down to it, Satchel's not afraid to get his paws dirty to protect those he loves.
Color Choice: Pink
Hey, I'm Wink and I own Goblin Gators!
I'm temporarily active here so if you got a question about them feel free to shoot me a pm!


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Re: Kalon #1100 — Pastel Peacock (OPEN, Round 1)

Postby Thedogpals » Sat Jul 29, 2017 8:00 pm

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    Username: Thedogpals
    Name: Takako
    Gender: Female
    Personality: Takako strides through the forest without a care in the world. She was angry at a friend of hers who started to draw on her favourite shirt. She sighs, walks to her favourite tree stump and waits. A few little fireflies appear and glow-worms slither out of the stump. She's always loved seeing different types of animals fluoresce due to studying Bioluminescence at her old dusty library that her father owned. She watched the creatures silently and pondered with great thoughts. Then, she heard a sound and her ears pricked up. A small kit clawed at the bush near the stump trying to get untangled from its great vines. "Shh! Be quiet little one! You'll scare all of them away!" she whispered as she helped the kit out of the vines. She invited the kit to watch the creatures, and they stared until dawn cracked. A little glow worm warmed up to the kit, and decided to stick around them. After the sun went up, Takkako had understood that the kit was lost, and made her way up to the geometric, grey city to find their parents.
    Color Choice: Blue!
very busy
(please do not enquire about my characters! i love em dearly!)
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Re: Kalon #1100 — Pastel Peacock (OPEN, Round 1)

Postby peachpit » Sun Jul 30, 2017 4:46 am

    username: goofs
    name: macha
    gender: female
    personality: macha is the little kal in the little cottage, deep in the quiet forest. there she cares for her rare, and exotic plants, reads romantic poetries, and sends letters to the few that know about her. she loves the herbalists and healers that come to her for her plants and usually invites them for tea and a pastry. she refuses to let witches use her plants unless for good purposes; or if your a good witch of course! macha is often charmed by their magic and potions and will beg them to show her some tricks; afterwards she experiments in her free time.

    her garden dosen't only attract healer and herbalists, but also pesky animals to nibble on her plants. jokingly she annoyed by them but in her heart she loves them dearly too. therefor she grows special plants for them and makes sure they're all heathy. surprisingly out of all the adorable animals than visit, her favorite are the snakes and pythons! She often will bring them inside her warm cottage and let snack on the pesky mice that eat away at her categorizing books. after they settle down with a full belly she sets them free, quietly praying in her head they stick around.

    her customers often tell her stories of the other kalons alike her. one of her two dreams is to meet them. especially the phoenix kal she hears about. he's always had a charm to her in the stories, even though she prefers girls. a few she is able to talk to through handwritten messages, though she is still having a hard time locating the others she has heard of. macha's absolute favorite thing to ask them when she messages them is about their adventures and what they can do with their unique abilities. she often asks if they know of the other special kalons or if they've heard of them.

    (word total: 316)
    color choice: pink

    (I hope it's okay that I edited this, all I did was take out 'wip' in my form the I left by accident qwq)
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{ a dripping june, sets all in tune }

Postby gouache » Sun Jul 30, 2017 6:11 am

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Geisha of glass

Username - Fawnpi
Name - Fuji
Gender - Simply speaking; feels devoid of gender. Presents feminine.

Color Choice



Personality - (Who are they? 1000 words maximum)

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A grand peak of molten blues and silvers, sacred, inspirational, a muse.
Stowed away and secretive, but yet so magnificent all the same: it was
her, Fuji, named after the famous title of the great mountain, which
ruled over the rolling lands of Edo. Of the break of dawn, on the hour
the wistful moon began to make it's departure from the heavens, when
the cloudy curtains were drawn and the stars went to sleep, that ever so
mysterious figure began to make a journey. Like a peahen, yet baring those
colours and feathers of the mighty peacock, they would be seen waltzing
among the ever-growing bamboo trees, dancing lightly and ever so carefully
along, a path of fireflies and little lanterns accompanying by.
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Fuji's intent was perhaps a simple one, for this lively little Kalon, enthralled and enchanted by the forests. Even as a Geisha,
after several, several seasons of learning the steps of dance, the strings and notes of song, never did she quite feel at peace
with her riches, she had earned from selling her talents and entertainment to the most noble guests of Japan. Fuji was to be
the perfect hostess, much she believed. So, upon each and every morning, she would venture from the Okiya, home, in search
for the earth's finest and purest flowers and leaves, to brew the most perfect tea, to impress at the upcoming tea ceremonies
that awaited her. She felt very in touch with more nature, and her culture, so to cultivate the two by foraging through floral
was a bright idea indeed. Aimlessly sauntering about in the fields, in those mornings, certainly bought her much happiness, as
well as a well-earned break from the busy Ochaya at night.
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On the more quiet days, she would spot Sika Deer pirouetting in the woods, a magic glimpse of peafowl, and birds of indigo and violet shades taking a moment to sing- Fuji would admit to whistling a tune back. Whilst it was all captivating, and so, so beautiful, the blooms and blossoms of all kinds would take her particular attention and interest. The way each and every petal was so carefully crafted at nature's touch... Clipping and snipping a couple of plants for brewing, a small amount, was in her respect of the woods. Taking too much would be distasteful- for tea that was too strong and potent, but also due to mother nature's limited supply. She made sure to be soft, gentle and caring to those that lived beside her, plants included of course. The people respected her kindness, but also respected the tea served at the evenings in the Ochaya. Goodness ! And never had they tasted tea like that before, simply divine, they would say. Revitalising with a floral touch in just two sips, it quickly became popular: as did Fuji's service. The potential of her tea was crystal-clear... So, the long travels to the forests continued. Clippings and snippings of the plant soon became bundles, bouquets, barrels filled with these tea-flowers: what once was pinching and burrowing just a little bit of beauty soon became huge debt. Fuji was now careless, ripping and tearing at the roots of the plants, throwing aside stems and leaves...

The rare plant that was so sought after, was now extinct- as the last one was plucked away from the earth, by her.

And so, just like that- she lost her back legs, that she used to run and frolic with so, and out of thin air was swiftly replaced with
glass bone, more sturdy then stone, impairing her ability to dance and walk, the things she once adored. A horrific pain ripped
through her being-- every plant that she stole from the earth was now a part of her, in her hair, running across her back, and even inside the glass legs. It was rooted to her heart, as was the guilt she now carried.
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Like the glass of her body, she grew cold: and like tea left too long to
become cold, her soul turned bitter. The warm charm she once had so
long ago became blue: alike to her plumage, and tired eyes. It is simply
folklore, but some claim she can only consume soil and water now, her
punishment for her taste for that tea. Stranded in the depths of the forest,
and near incapable of moving, to this day it is a ghost story that her wails
and cries can still be heard, longing for her former self and reaping her
wrong-doings.
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Last edited by gouache on Mon Jul 31, 2017 10:21 am, edited 57 times in total.
gouache
 
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