~Goennec~ Round: Closed

[! october]

Yessss; I won Clairvoyance! 8D

Congradulations to all of the winners! c:

[Twinkling Star]

Eppppp!!! Thank you so much Kam! *loves on falconi*

And congrats to the others! <3

[LunarFaith]

Congratulations to all the other winners! <3

[ika;]

Aww, congrats everyone ^^

[MirrorMask]

Congrats to everyone I never got to first *Not feeling that well and I'm very busy* but I happy to see everyone go to someone good.

[Lady Masquerade]

Goennec Pen #: 5
Name:
How would you use him/her:
Define your Goennec:


WIP

[mokapi]

Goennec Pen #: #2.
Name: Blanchefleur, "Fleur".
How would you use him/her:
Define your Goennec:

With rocks in my dress, and smoke in my hair,
I walked into a lake to get some sleep down there.
Won't you come to comfort me?
Won't you come to comfort me?

Sweet, naive, and hopelessly stuck in a state of perpetual mental despair that affects her with such strong psychosomatic symptoms that there are mornings when she appears too anguished to even set her sights to the sky. While she is surrounded by a tight-knit web of friends and acquaintances, Fleur seems unable to truly treasure them, though she appreciates their company- yet her smiles are often small, and her faintly steel-hued eyes are more listless than not. She's an adult now, has been for a few months, and is no doubt stuck at a Peasant rank. There is nothing spectacular or notable about her, apart from her ability to seem invisible- well, that and her somewhat atypical behavior. It was only to be expected, said her foster dam, and the others in her herd accepted that at its point and felt no need to rebuff the young ewe. In fact, they very rarely leave her alone- it seems that her indisputable sadness garners a gentle pity. Those she would consider her friends don't wish to abandon her.

She hasn't always been like this, however- not quite. She was born the sibling to an Affected, and to be quite honest no one in the herd could really fathom what drove Blithe to bear a second kid, when her world already revolved around the first. It was not so difficult in the beginning- Fleur was not an importunate child, and in all truth required far less than your average newborn as far as attention went. She became used to her mother's exasperated outbursts and found solace in the few pleasantries that being alone could bring. A shy, quiet thing, the other nursing ewes would encourage her to associate with their own, seemingly to attempt to temper their wild children. Still, Fleur had no love for adventurous games, and was one to be sat on rather than to sit. Yet it was a glorious thing when she smiled: her tiny face would light up, drawing warm chuckles from mothers and passing on her fleeting happiness to her playmates. It was likely for this reason that all hope was not lost on her, though the same could not be said for her mother.

Her sister's name had been Gwen, and she was one of the only Affected the herd had ever known. Almost two years older than Fleur, she was her mother's spitting image- and was also ill. It was not expected she would live much longer, though gossipers were careful to keep this bit of wide-spread opinion to themselves. Though Gwen had been sickly since birth and had never had a solid standing health-wise, Blithe's doting and constant care had made it able for her to live longer than expected. Yet this time, it seemed, a positive outcome was not to be- the diseased ewe began losing strength with such rapidity that over the course of a fortnight she was reduced to skin and bones, unable to stand or even stay conscious for very long. She died soon after.

And, following suit, Blithe fairly went mad. Her usual melancholy deepened substantially, until her depression reached such a low that Fleur would have to beg her mother to eat. It was, essentially, useless. This kept on for some weeks- it seemed Fleur had become invisible to her own dam. Out of nowhere, however, Blithe seemed to right herself mentally. Her entire demeanor changed, and while she certainly wasn't exuberant, it seemed she was, at least, content. Her appetite increased, and for the first time in months she was able to look at her surviving daughter without glassy eyes or an empty expression. Fleur remembers quite clearly the last thing her mother said: "You'll be alright, dear". A smile was on her mother's lips as she said it, and she nuzzled her daughter before moving farther down the slope to graze.

Blanchefleur never saw her mother again.

She only became worried after Blithe failed to return her calls. Brow knitted with a bit-back fear, she ambled down the hill, calling loudly after her dam- and then, drawn to her anxious bleats, others joined in her search. They worked throughout the afternoon and the evening, from the bank of the far river to the distant treeline, but no one spotted the cream ewe. Though outwardly she showed a resolved sense of hope for the relocation of her mother, inwardly the young ewe knew her mother was never coming back- her short display of supposed happiness must have been little more than her being at peace with her fatal decision. And it was assumed to be fatal after nearly a month of no positive signs.

Unsurprisingly, Blanchefleur was less affected by her mother's death than the norm. But why would she be? It wasn't like Blithe had ever truly been there for her, after all- still, she was still young enough that she required a watchful eye in case her youthful ignorance drove her into a troubled corner. It was Hazel, one of her mother's last remaining friends, that took her in- likely more out of obligation and pity than anything else, but still, Hazel provided care and a place alongside her own daughter, Luma.

Luma was as sweet and careful with her actions as Fleur, and the two became firm friends, though quiet ones. Even now, in the present, they will often be seen grazing next to each other, and Luma takes care to not leave Fleur alone.

WIP.

[Skylarr.]

Goennec Pen #: #4

Name: Tabitha ; Tabbie ; Tab

How would you use him/her: I would use her in the roleplay and I would get art of her and all of that good stuff you use to spoil a character. Writing some stories for her would be something that I would do and she would be placed in my Goennec site that is in progress.
One other thing I thought I would mention is that I really want the her and Seven thing to work out and when I saw her I thought she was perfect for the story and I just love her design.

Define your Goennec:

How My Love and Life Awakened.

Tabitha yawned. The sun was so bright it had woken her up, and she wasn’t quite sure she had wanted to. She was one to sleep in since she loved to stay up late and watch the stars or listen to the life of the night.
She stretched and got up, her limbs ached and she could tell that she would be grumpy for a bit. She noticed a few does were grazing a couple of feet away, so she decided to sit and join them.
She made herself comfortable and bit the top off of a daisy quietly. It was sort of awkward and quiet, so she figured she would start conversation, “How did you ladies sleep?”
They all nodded and gave short replies of “fine” or “alright”. I suspected something was the matter so I asked. “What is going on with you guys? You aren’t even saying a word!”
They all were looking at each other except for Cheryl who was staring at the ground like there was a snake right in front of her, “You know you gal-“
“Seven is going to ask you into his harem!”
I stared at Cheryl with wide eyes and the other girls glared at her like they told Tab a secret of their own. I felt my face getting hot, I had always loved Seven. “H-he is?”
They all nodded. One was glaring at me and a couple others just were simply staring at me.
“That’s great!” I squealed, “Don’t you all think so?!”
They all nodded and little “sures” and “yeahs” came out, but nothing more. “What’s wrong?”
Cheryl blurted again, which was a bad habit of hers (she can’t really take the pressure), “We are all jealous, okay!”
“Jealous? Jealous?! You guys should be happy for me! And now you’re jealous!” I couldn’t believe them, they shouldn’t be so self-absorbed. I would be happy for them! Wouldn’t I be? I mean maybe a little jealous, but not be so jealous that I was rude enough to not say congratulations.
Tabbie got up and walked away, with no protests following her to come back. That struck a nerve. Aren’t they supposed to feel sorry and want to apologize to her for being selfish? She shook her head and grumbled to herself. She heard paw steps behind her and turned.
“Cheryl?”
“Hey Tab... About earlier… The girls wanted to say they were sorry. They all just really like Seven and we know you do, but we were just jealous and it was wrong of us. Will you come back so we can talk about it?”
Tabitha shook her head, “No. Not right now. I need time to think about things and to think about what just happened.”
She didn’t need to know that Cheryl and her friends loved her best friend. She didn’t need to know that they were all “Soo sorry!” She just needed to clear her head and get out of here, as much as she loved her does, she sometimes couldn’t stand them.

~

She sat next to the stream. It was different during the day. It was more noisy and alive, in a beautiful way, but not as beautiful as the night Tab always liked to think.
The birds chirped, the frogs croaked, and her mind was whirling. Her dream and worst nightmare were coming true. The love of her life was going to ask her into his harem and her friends were turning on her. Too much stuff was happening at the same time and she just couldn’t stand it. She needed more rest. She could feel her eyes were tired, so she figured why not?
So pretty soon, she nodded off.

~

Her eyes blinked open to the rippling moon that was reflecting on the lake. The night was quiet besides the quiet flaps of bird wings. These are the nights I loved, but I also like being near my friends. It’s just once in a blue moon, I like to get a little away time. Then my ears swiveled at the sound of hoof-steps. The tall lanky legs of Seven were even longer in his shadow. “Good evening Seven.”
I saw his legs twitch a bit at the sound of my voice, he was nervous. I turned my head towards him, “Well? Aren’t you going to say hi?”
He nodded, “Of course I am.” He chuckled, “Hello Tabbie.”
She smiled admiringly at him. He was handsome, had a great personality, gave the best nuzzles and cared for her greatly. She was honored to be asked into his harem for his first year.
He pushed the rabbit that was behind him towards her, “I brought you dinner. I wasn’t sure if you wanted meat or not, so I brought it just in case… It’s okay if you want it, I didn’t know you would be grazing… It’s fine if you don’t accept it…”
“Seven,” she chuckled. She got him out of his run-on he had every now and then, “I want it. Don’t worry. And I appreciate it.” She stood to turn her body fully around and face him, “Since I’ve been grazing for a while, do you want to share it?” His eyes shone and he nodded.
I sat down with him and we ate quietly.
We finished the rabbit and started small talk about our day.
Soon enough though, we fell asleep to a calm cool night. The stars were shining and everything was peaceful, and in Tabitha’s eyes, perfect.

~

She couldn’t believe how a short 24 hours could change her life’s perspective.
She had realized three things…
Her friends, would most likely never be close again.
Her lover, closer than ever.
Her life, could never be taken for granted.

finished. <3

[Desmond]

Goennec Pen #: 8
Name: Ford

2'6"
Naturally Colored
All Hooves

How would you use him/her:
He would join my herd as a more sane connection between the rankings. He will balance Katili and support Aussie and Lazuli, while adding a deeper level to the dynamics of the herd. As a powerhouse of logic, he will maintain order while suffering his own version of chaos and destruction.

In the RP, He will, essentially, be the hidden police force that we as civilized humans have become accustomed to. His participation in the Siv will be reluctant but necessary; he will be a submissive male that will happily take to any and/or all dominating females- such as iBrevity’s Queen, if she so desired. He will, naturally, join the rest of my herd in my art and writing.

Define your Goennec:
Personality:
Sarcastic. Ford is extremely sarcastic, whether he knows it or not. His biting tongue has been known to hurt feelings left and right, and cause major emotional damage, whether intentional or not. His snarky, nasally tone is very rarely kindly, even when he’s chastising a young kid for startling an Elder.
Impulsive. Ford’s impulsiveness has caused him some great troubles in the past, and it continues to haunt him throughout his life. Because of his Gender Identity Disorder, his main impulse is to start mutilating himself, especially focusing on his horns and genital regions. He refuses to identify himself as male, though, in order to maintain decorum as a maintenance worker for the order of the law, he must pretend to be at least somewhat satisfied with himself. He often hides the scarring, covering the wounds up with stories involving badgers and hyenas.
Logical. Through his impulsiveness, Ford is a beast of logic. Like Hatter- or, perhaps, unlike him- he is an extreme logistician. He prides himself in being able to, in theory, work out almost any problem given to him, though he has yet to solve his own debilitating situation. He loves trying to solve puzzles, but loses his temper when he meets an impassible barrier that he can’t figure out.
Charismatic. Ford has the image and skills of a wonderful leader, but his mental situation and other detractions make him an extremely dissatisfactory candidate for Primacy.
Submissive. As a side effect of his mental disorder, Ford is much more feminine than average. He is a naturally submissive ram that wants to be treated as an ewe. He greatly dislikes having to be the dominate one in a relationship, and wants a dominate ewe every Siv.

Insomniac. Nightmares about being trapped and/or ridiculed keep Ford awake most nights, allowing him to sleep only when his body decides to pass out on him. However, all of this spare time awake means that he gets to think through his puzzles all he likes, and gets first dibs on the dewiest, most fresh dandelions.

Likes:
Sleep. Sleep, when he can get it, is Ford’s very best friend. He sleeps for extended periods of time in one of his various hovels when he can manage to escape his nightmares.
Impossibilities. Impossibilities are both the bane of Ford’s existence, as well as the reason for it. He loves trying to get around them, and has managed to help Katili devise a trap to stop even the most ferocious of hunters, though she managed to ruin the setup.
Order. Ford loves- absolutely, positively loves- when everyone is behaving and order is kept in the herd. When chaos breaks loose, his tendencies and problems rise up to torment him further.
Following. As a submissive, following a leader is much more preferable than being the leader. Despite his disorder, he still prefers the opposite sex, and thus enjoys having an ewe for a leader much, much more than following a ram.

Dislikes:
Water. Ford is highly hydrophobic, thanks to an incident involving Katili, a fallen tree-bridge, and Ford nearly drowning. He refuses to swim or fish, and will only drink when he has missed the morning dew.
Impossibilities. Ford throws a fit when he has reached an impasse when trying to figure out something that is truly impossible to figure out.
Leading others. Ford believes (correctly) that, though he has the charisma needed, his problems would make him a terrible leader. He hates being in a leadership position, and sometimes half-wishes that the Goennec society would reverse itself, so that the ewes would lead the harems.
Himself. Perhaps one of the largest dislikes that shaped his personality, Ford’s hatred of himself and how his body went against him and became masculine is extremely prominent in his life-story. He bears his scars tiredly, each bite mark of punishment and self-loathing a knife in the heart for being this way.

Background:
Green eyes bored into the water, staring ruefully at the growing horns situated just slightly above them. They were the cause for his problems. They had to be. They, and the growing masses that his short tail could just barely hide from view. He wasn’t a she. And he could no longer act as such… not anymore. It was so… wrong.

As a young kid, before his horns and genitalia began developing, Ford believed and identified most closely with ewes. The nannies, at first, believed he was getting a head start on being a first-rate stud, especially with his talent for persuasion, despite the fact that his short mane and tail were, at that point in time in that herd, considered a second-rate defect- that is, a trait that made him a high-rank Peasant rather than a Soldier or Prince. Oblivious to this prejudice against him, he began to focus on studying logic, hoping that, through his work, he could figure out how to correct Nature’s mistake. He has yet to come up with a solution.

If a rotten tree falls over a river and is used as a bridge, it will eventually break.

Thus was one of Ford’s logical hypotheses when he began studying the art of logic. It soon came to the point that he could figure out how to do several things, either by himself, with a group, or with the assistance of one of the local “friendlies” in the area. Unfortunately, there were a few things that he still could not figure out- the solution to his problem persisted just out of reach, and it irritates him beyond reason. He lives for, and will die by, logic and the pursuit of answers.

Ford perked up, hearing a call about tasty dandelions. Like any average Goennec, his interest became extremely piqued, and he sprinted toward the voice. With twenty hooves and thirty paws thundering behind him, it was his ivory hooves that reached the decaying wooden log-bridge first. Halfway across, a thunderous crack sounded behind him, and he found himself falling back-first into the whitewater below. Struggling… gasping… then nothing at all.

A cruel joke by Katili nearly resulted in his death the year before his first Siv. He had been closer to the river than most of the other Goennecs, and had reached the log first. Interestingly, he is only one of two to date that has nearly perished as a result of her pranks. He and Hatter attribute this to the fact that he has a short tail- a longer tail would have been able to flip him over. However, he refuses to go anywhere near water anymore, too afraid of risking death again. He happily eats dewy weeds and grasses in the early morning instead.

Crack! Two yearmates slammed their horns together as the shallow ewe they were fighting over sat nearby, flirting with the blue-colored goennec that had, not too long ago, been nominated as Prince. Ford lowered his head, looking for an ewe that wouldn’t let rams fight for her- an ewe that would choose her mate herself. Unfortunately, seeing none, he slunk off to his hovel to work out the frustration in his system- and satisfy his impulsive nature’s needs.

Ford discovered that he was submissive in his first Siv, when he found that he couldn’t be dominating enough to find the guts to take an ewe outright. No, he had to find one that rebelled against the norm. He couldn’t be happy any other way. He has often wondered what it would take to convince an ewe to take him, instead of the other way around, but he has yet to solve this logical conundrum.

His impulses, on the other hand, has caused many problems for him. More than once, he has found himself on the receiving end of questions about the scars and open wounds, or perhaps a limp or headache. He waves these questions off, muttering random gibberish about defending the herd from predators and turning to either hunt or find something more mentally engaging so that the interrogator walks off. In private, he punishes himself further for not being more discreet by continuing his painful attacks on his masculinity, or by starving himself and letting whatever he hunts down rot before him in a masochistic self-torture.

Two young Goennecs laughed. They were almost there! Almost to the woods… and then they could- wait. They turned, noticing Ford’s tall form standing behind them disapprovingly. A few cutting words, and they nearly stampeded back, crying for their mothers. Ford, oblivious to how he had hurt them, yawned and walked off, shaking the sleep out of his head.

As he got older, his sarcasm blossomed and he ignored how much it hurt those that he verbally lashed out at. This ignorance became coupled with tired indifference, because he was simply too tired from running from nightmares all night to care about anything. When he can get sleep, he often spends an entire day in what is almost a coma, waking only to get the dew-covered weeds and grasses just before sunrise, as well as relieve himself.

Aussie’s blue eyes looked at him hopefully, while his green eyes met with Katili’s teal. Could he, perhaps, help her build this monster of a trap needed to save the herd from the approaching hyenas? Absolutely, in theory. He had the knowledge. However, he couldn’t bring himself to be the leader. He couldn’t take charge of something so… so… “Prince-ly”. This was the Prince’s job- but Aussie had yet to pick a Prince. But he had to answer….

A hyena attack prompted Prime Aussie to ask Katili and Ford to work together, despite their history- after all, Katili had nearly killed him, and it was this fact that Aussie had assumed would be the reason he’d decline. However, it was instead the issue that Ford was simply not leader material that made him refuse. Though charismatic and intelligent, he simply could not get past even his smallest issues enough to prevent absolute failure. Instead, he joined the third-rank Soldiers as they prepared a backup force. Perhaps a waste of his talent, but alas, it was his only option.

Victory… and yet, still a failure. Ford curled into himself, his sharp teeth pulling at the fur on his lower belly, the skin underneath red-raw from years of brutal abuse.

Despite everything… Ford still hates himself. And that seems to be something that will never change.


Art- "Hate"

[paola .]

Goennec Pen #:
3
Name:
Fromage
Name meaning:
Cheese(xD )
Gender:
Female/Doe
Age:
5years old
DOB(Date of Birth):
March 18, 2005
How would you use him/her:
WIP
Define your Goennec:
WIP