Palaver is one of my more serious characters, poor guy...Or it could just be the fact he can't safely be next to anyone. (Poor guy actually needs a non-serious moment or two. Maybe if some actual story develops in RPs down the line...)

Art by  milkandjuice (Latexia)!

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"Time is of the essence. Space is of the material. But what are the seasons?
Seasons are all matters of time, yet they all have their origins in matter, by the cast sunlight, or by falling leaves, by snow, or by the scattering petals.
They remind us that even without color, not all matter is black and white, and neither is the essence of life."

Palaver's soliloquy as he looked at the unsaturated equivalent of a cherry blossom, one untouched by the light spectrum, freeing itself into the next phase of its chronological cycle as its remnants disperse like a large crowd silently leaving the funeral of the spring bloom. He could safely grasp them and they wouldn't become any more different than they already were, already sharing a palette like his and not being something truly substantial and alive. Neither would he have preferred that, for they were relatable all the same: Colorless remnants freely dancing in the time stream with all the color he could ask for. The one falling into his palm does, however, remind him of loneliness, lost to space, separate from the others.