Describing a Color

Lovie the OG

Manikos Karagiozis
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
Genres
Fantasy, Horror, Sci-Fi, Modern, History; just about anything, really. Though, I am not too big on Romance.
As it says in the title, you're going to choose a color and describe it as if you're describing it to a blind person.

Try not to say the name of the color in the description.

Make it as detailed, long, or short as you like.

Be creative with it and have fun!




Here's mine as an example:

Reaching out to it, you'd think it would burn you. Looking at it and you think of warmth and sometimes even anger. It's not bright but not dark, either. It's not even dim. It's a neutral tone. But in ways, it can be very vivid, and in fact is the representative color for love. It can be seen from a long distance, but yet is gentle on the eyes. There's both a softness and a boldness to it. It's gentle yet provokes action. It's the color you see when you're running and you get tired; the color behind your eyelids. It's the color of your pumping heart; of your blood when it breathes oxygen. If it had a smell, I would say the smell of roses or blood. If you could feel it, I would say it would feel soft but also tough, like biting into a steak. It can both be a beautiful color and a disastrous color, depending on the situation. It's both lovely and cunning, while also being simple. It's fair and strong. It wields tenderness and mischief. It's a wonderful color that can mean so many things.
 
It's warm and bubbly, bright and pretty. It is catchy too. The smell of it, would be of meadows and sunshine. It is also optimistic and reasonable. It is said to symbolise the Asian's nobility. It also is used, to describe a fair skinned Asian, nowadays and a dirty person, physically, or mentally.

I hope that's ok >.<)
 
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Green

The hippies loved green . I loved green. its the color of nature . from the giant trees to the humble Grass .
 
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It is growth and fertility, it is welcoming and wild, it is natural and modern yet as old as the oldest forest. It is refreshing, like a breath of clean mountain air. If you could feel it, it would feel crisp and strong yet flexible and supportive. If you could taste it, you'd taste the flavour of Mother Nature, you would feel nourished and revitalized. It brings new life, it offers adventure and refuge from a hectic modern life. It opposes sound and collects the soft sounds of wind and wildlife. It is exotic and native at the same time, it is far away and in your own backyard. It is luck and good fortune and, for some, it is the dire need of. It is want, it is need it is longing and craving. It is where we began, swallowed up in its wild embrace, and now it is a reminded of our long past ancestry. We breathe by it's tones as they shimmer in the trees. We feed by its bounty that grows beneath our feet. It is nature, it is beauty, it is elegance, it is life.
 
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It is the deepest abyss trying to swallow you whole. It over-rides all other colours, as the dark ruler of them all. At night, when you're frightful, you'll see it leap out at you from the shadows. When you look over your shoulder it is there, chasing you. You can't escape this colour, as many would wish. Most people take this colour to represent pure evil, but there's a mysterious beauty to it as well. It can hide you when you need to be hidden, and it is untainted by any imperfection. This colour is all of your worst nightmares, but also your protector from them. Secrets take form in this colour, both those that destroy and support you. If you could eat it, then it would taste of coffee- bitter, but likable. This colour is so often over-looked, but can never, ever, forget it.
 
It is clean and simple; making up the mountain top's skin in the winter months. It's the sweet angel of all other colors and serves its purpose when you need a soft, cushiony area to lay your swollen head. When your thoughts are full of tar and hateful beings there will always be this beacon in the back of your brain, casting the brightest light upon your soul. Some may call it bland, no sense of taste or smell, only there as a filler in the color wheel. But what most do not know is the fact that all other colors sit a top of this specific one and it is still the one that stands out most of all. If you could place it on your tongue you could say it was sweet, airy, almost like a perfectly squared sugar-cube. Hold it in your palms and it would be fluffy, full of excitement almost bubbling over the edge, a bunny sniffing your fingers with curiosity. It is the wings on a bird, helping it along the through it's own home of tasteless clouds. This color brings solitude and relaxation, smelling of the paint a top your brush, gliding against your new babies nursery. It is humble, yet bold. It is new, yet old. No meaning to it's birth, but will never, ever die.
 
It is not a colour, yet it is said to be. Some find comfort in it, while most shy away from it. It is dark, yet soothing at the same time. It fits with so many others, and it can never be, out of fashion. Like Red, it is most sought out, even if, it is not that liked. The colour of Death, it had been called. It can never be said to be a plain colour, for it is not. It is the colour that has so many meanings, and associated with so many things. The colour is used, most often, when the mood is sombre. The colour is often used, to represent a cult or satanism. Also often associated with evil and witchcraft. It is used to represent the goths or emo. It is also used, when one is in grief or holds the status of a widow, and is not yet ready, to move one. It is, yet it is not. It's there, but it's not. It may not shine bright, but it makes others shine when in a combination with it. The shadow. It is the one colour, a blind man can see. It is like a double edge sword; it holds the power, to make you shine, or disappear. It is deadly, yet beautiful. It can embrace you, or choke you. This one colour, that represents the "root of evil". It is overwhelming in the darkest of night, yet soothing. It's the colour, no one can get tired of. For it is one, of it own. It has no contenders. It is the ultimate colour. The colour of onyx. This colour, that is not a colour. It's there, yet it is not. So beatiful, so enchanting. More deadly than red, can ever be. It can suffocate, or it can soothe. It is also, one of the most misunderstood of colours. For it is, but just a colour, like all colours.
 
You know that feeling you get when you step out from under a shady tree on a hot summer day. That feeling you get when your skin prickles up from the warming up from the sun. It pours over you like hugs and kisses from the angels above but it doesn’t burn you since the clouds dance in the way. That sweet feeling you get when the warm rays kiss your cheeks and tops of your feet that is what this color is. It holds your hand and helps you feel the hope inside a new day at dawn. It grows brighter and brighter and by noon your never to look right at it. Most times it’s too bright it will hurt your eyes but this color is there to add joy and happiness into the world. It brings goodness and hope. It’s the color of many flowers and butterflies too. Soft as butter and warm as wool socks, it’s the color of friendship and smiles.
 
It is cold, mystery, expectation, the void and wait. It's the silence of a road covered in myst, or the everlasting waves of an endless sea under the heavy clouds. It is balance, the pacific child of the most opposite tones, the middle way, the third option. It is the past that never returns, the aura around old photos and films, dull memories, empty spaces; but it's also future, promise, technology and distant rationality. It's the end, like ashes... and the beginning, as the first sign of the day after the long darkness of night. It tastes like metal; it sounds like the harmonic drizzle that can lull you to your sleep, or bring the sharp pain of miss and mistake. If it can be solid as rock, it can also be just as ethereal as the smoke carried by the wind... You can find peace, boredom, relief or angst among it's realm, but this color is nothing more than a mirror, reflecting what you carry inside yourself. It's not pure, immaculated, or dense and absorbing as the two extremes that compose it; it's just central, freedom, and choice.
 
This is what a certain colour reminds me of. 10 brownie points to whomever can guess the colour I'm thinking of in the novel below.

The calming waves wash over the outskirts of a rocky beach. Refreshing pint's of margaritas are served along with miniature umbrellas. The sky is painted in frigid colours, those that represent a less daring colour. Emotions of jovial patrons wash over a small, run down surf shop at the far end. Puffy white clouds drift silently as ripples of saltwater splash on bare feet. Tall, gargantuan waves loom over the Diaspora of beach goers. Palm tree's billow with the wind, in turn casting heavy patterns of shadows along the skins of people relaxing in recliners.

Small droplets of water dance on your skin as heavy rain boots clank on the pavement. Puddles of mud release trickles of contaminated liquids that roll on yellow rain boots. Rain collides with the fabric of a large umbrella hovering overhead.

Pools of freshwater began to surround the perimeter of a lush park. Schools of fish glide across light waters as the sun beats down on lily pads and frogs baking themselves, then dipping back into the pond for moisture. Magnolias float across the surface, showing lovely shades of pink. Waterfalls cascade smoothly as it causes small waves of water to fleet across the lake. The water thrashes and makes a roaring sound, but it keeps your spirit alive as it cools off tanned skin with it's dew.

Colourful fish fly above you. Your feet jets through the water, creating small air bubbles. Seaweed brushes across rubbery diving suits. Starfish scatter across a large boulder compressed into the sand.

Weak, but relaxed, a serene sense of comfort follows you around. The colours paint across the endless sky, but one colour just doesn't seem to stand out as much as the others'. You could barely tell it was their, just a lonely outcast driven away from it's natural habitat. It crawls up your skin, allowing goosebumps to form. Freezing temperatures make up for the warmer days as it caresses your skin. Even under layers of cashmere sweatshirts and faux fur, you could still feel it's cold hands grope your body. But in the end, all remains light and heavenly, and joyous days begins to roll over in the sense of zero tension.

Can you guess the colour?
 
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It is the color you smell when you step outside after a rain, and the color you felt on your skin when the first drops make contact. It is the color of the tears that roll down your cheeks when you're alone and the color of sitting on the floor because you don't care enough to find a chair. It is the color of hunger before it hurts and of the first cold water rushing across your tongue when you take a sip. It is the color you feel wrapping around you when you close your eyes in the shower and lose yourself for a minute. It is the color of diving to the bottom of the river and hearing nothing but the water around you, and it is the color of the wind rustling and the birds chirping and the sky all above you.
It is the color of cold, sweet things that your taste buds can't quite make out. It is the harsh, artificial spearmint of the borrowed gum you took to get the onions off your breath. It is the color of being alone and the color of integrity, the color you feel bloom in your chest when you do the right thing and it hurts anyway. It is the smell of denim and fresh-washed sheets and sounds like the fountain at the mall and the produce section of the grocery store when the nozzles come on and mist the vegetables. It is iceberg lettuce and the salty sea breeze.
It is a marble countertop when you press your hands down on it and condensation forms. It is the smell of pasta cooking and the facefull of steam you get pouring it into the colander. It is grey Sundays spent indoors cuddling with your cat and the first snow, when it is still exciting and new. It is also the sound of water dripping of the icicles when winter is over and the sound of frogs croaking on summer nights.
It is the color you feel when you have no reason to be sad, but you cry anyway. It is the color left in the void when you break up. It is the color you feel inside when a flag-wrapped coffin is paraded through town and not a single watching eye is dry. It is wet paint and wet cheeks and wet lips and wet skin, it is silence and it is music.



Da ba de da ba di.
 
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This is what a certain colour reminds me of. 10 brownie points to whomever can guess the colour I'm thinking of in the novel below.

The calming waves wash over the outskirts of a rocky beach. Refreshing pint's of margaritas are served along with miniature umbrellas. The sky is painted in frigid colours, those that represent a less daring colour. Emotions of jovial patrons wash over a small, run down surf shop at the far end. Puffy white clouds drift silently as ripples of saltwater splash on bare feet. Tall, gargantuan waves loom over the Diaspora of beach goers. Palm tree's billow with the wind, in turn casting heavy patterns of shadows along the skins of people relaxing in recliners.

Small droplets of water dance on your skin as heavy rain boots clank on the pavement. Puddles of mud release trickles of contaminated liquids that roll on yellow rain boots. Rain collides with the fabric of a large umbrella hovering overhead.

Pools of freshwater began to surround the perimeter of a lush park. Schools of fish glide across light waters as the sun beats down on lily pads and frogs baking themselves, then dipping back into the pond for moisture. Magnolias float across the surface, showing lovely shades of pink. Waterfalls cascade smoothly as it causes small waves of water to fleet across the lake. The water thrashes and makes a roaring sound, but it keeps your spirit alive as it cools off tanned skin with it's dew.

Colourful fish fly above you. Your feet jets through the water, creating small air bubbles. Seaweed brushes across rubbery diving suits. Starfish scatter across a large boulder compressed into the sand.

Weak, but relaxed, a serene sense of comfort follows you around. The colours paint across the endless sky, but one colour just doesn't seem to stand out as much as the others'. You could barely tell it was their, just a lonely outcast driven away from it's natural habitat. It crawls up your skin, allowing goosebumps to form. Freezing temperatures make up for the warmer days as it caresses your skin. Even under layers of cashmere sweatshirts and faux fur, you could still feel it's cold hands grope your body. But in the end, all remains light and heavenly, and joyous days begins to roll over in the sense of zero tension.

Can you guess the colour?
At first I thought baby blue, then fifty shades of grey, and now I'm not sure. >.<
 
Flocks of people drift merrily around a ballroom. There goes a lady wearing a dress made from sunshine, and another in a shade of a rosé. Yet the one that stands out the most is a woman in a lavish gown, the colour of a rich sapphire or the curling sea. She is adorned with more jewels than the other women could dream for, and her gown made of the finest silk. The colour is deep and almost cold, yet something about it still brings a warmth. It shows her regality and her magnificence.

A full moon shines over the ocean, sparkles dancing off the dark surface. That same colour is here again, reflecting the light of the full moon. It captures it's radiance and adds a feeling of serenity to the picture. No other colour would suite such a moment. It is cold and clear, an honest colour that hides no secrets from those who look at it. A pure colour, untarnished by other colours.

The colour looks best on satin. It shimmers like a night sky, but still holds a touch of the warmth from the day preceding it. The satin blows in a gentle breeze, resembling a smooth wave during the night. A dark, cold and yet strangely warm colour, a mysterious colour.

Can you see it now?
 
Sweetness, bubbly, and kind. This color can be resembled only by a small girl- not quite a pre-teen, but not a toddler. She's giddy and optimistic. She wears her hair in pigtails and blows sloppy bubbles with her bubble-gum she bought at the candy store for a couple cents.

It's the color that covers her room- it illuminates every dark corner with welcome and promises awake and cheer. It doesn't bring irritation as the sun does, but a soothing aura such as silk and sweet aromas.

A unique color that only itself can describe, signifying feminism at its finest.
 
It has a deep and rich color that is commonly seen but may not noticed. It is one of that symbolizes the depth of an ocean, or the sadness of a heart. It can be a symbol of freedom as one reaches to something above, or so varied that it cannot be described with one word. It is often chose as a favorite of colors and is ever present in our daily lives that sometimes it is just walked by as we enjoy it in its many different shades. And out in the ocean, all you are is surrounded by it that you are engulfed in a sea of beauty.
 
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Some would say it's a color, but others would describe it like 'nothing there'. It's light itself, and can represent all the colors and none of the colors at the same time. It's the color of beginnings. Refreshing to look at and waiting to be filled with creativity. It openly accepts all other colors, making other shades more vibrant to look at. It's the brightness of the sun during the day, and the glow of moon during the night.

If you could feel it, I'm sure it would be as soft as silk and as light as a feather. It would feel cool at first, then slowly warm up to match your temperature. Gentle like a breeze, and would shroud you like a fog. Elusive yet always there.

I'm sure you can 'smell' it now. There would be no odor, but you would know it's there. It's like pure air.

The taste would be surprisingly complex. It would melt on your tongue like cotton candy, but taste rich like cream cheese. You would start off with something strong like mint, but it would quickly fade leaving just a refreshing feeling like a slice of ginger between sushi.

The sound would be of tranquil silence. Not the heavy silence between awkward conversations, but the silence of meditation. The 'sound' just before the wind starts to rustle the leaves in a forest. The 'sound' of snow slowly making its way to the ground. It's there. You only need to be patient to hear it.