Feel free to take a gander at my art and such. Honk. Like a goose. It's funny. You should be laughing.
Name: Ioanna Ambrosia Kritikos
Title: The Goat Girl
Height: 5'3" or 160cm
Weight: 115lb or 52kg
Story: The Goat Girl
Occupation: Owner of a Sanctuary for Mythical Creatures
A Calming Touch:When she touches others, Ioanna can use this skill to help them relax. It can numb pain or, at its very strongest, put someone to sleep.Golden Apples:Ioanna is able to turn regular apples into golden apples. They aren't any more valuable than before, but they are heavier and much harder to eat.
Romantic Orientation: Heteroromantic
Sexual Orientation: HeterosexualCurrent Partner: None
Past Experiences: None, Virgin
Name by :dev roleplayer:DescriptionName by :dev roleplayer:DescriptionName by :dev roleplayer:Description
Once upon a time, there lived a old inkless couple. The man was an animal tamer, and the woman an archivist. Together they built a Sanctuary for mythical creatures on a large plot of land in southeastern Lutin. They lived happily there, tending to the animals, but they could not seem to have a baby. For years they prayed for a child, and for years they remained childless. When they had almost given up, the wife suddenly became pregnant. Thanking the gods, they rested and prepared for the baby's arrival. When it did arrive, however, it was obvious that the child was not average. She was, quite literally, a goat. The couple fretted not, for they had asked and received. So they named her Ioanna, meaning "God is gracious," and raised her as a normal child. She lived comfortably, raised around the diverse creatures in her parent's Sanctuary. When Ioanna turned thirteen and learned what her story was, she also learned that she could remove her goat "skin" and that underneath she was almost human. When removed, it became a large, tan, fur coat. But this new form was awkward, uncomfortable... she didn't feel at home in it. Feeling confident as a goat, she felt no need to be a human unless she needed to. Her parents quickly become unable to care for the Sanctuary, so Ioanna took up most of the responsibilities for herself.
Habits:● Wagging her tail when excited
● Bleating when embarrassed or flustered
Dislikes:● Being called Io
● People touching her horns/hooves/tum
● "Why aren't you wearing a shirt?"
● Custard (bleh)
Full Name: Graeme Kirkwood
Nicknames: Pumpernickle (Mother)
Age: 2 Years
Breed: Maine Coon Mix
Battle Class: Warrior
Former Occupation(s): None
Marital Status: Single
Religious Beliefs: Believes very strongly in Mardoll and in his ancestors. Though he believes Favira exists, he doesn't have as much faith in her as Mardoll.
Current Level: 1
Tactical Skill: 0/40
Healing Arts: 0/40
Dark Magic: 0/40
Items in Possession:[Old Belt] Graeme's father's, given to him when he turned a year old. Comes with a detachable sword sheath.
Equipped Weapon(s):[Rusted Sword] A battered sword given to him when he fled the village. It was the biggest one available.
Personality Type: ISFJ - The ProtectorISFJs are industrious caretakers, loyal to traditions and organizations. They are practical, compassionate, and caring, and are motivated to provide for others and protect them from the perils of life.
ISFJs are conventional and grounded, and enjoy contributing to established structures of society. They are steady and committed workers with a deep sense of responsibility to others. They focus on fulfilling their duties, particularly when they are taking care of the needs of other people. They want others to know that they are reliable and can be trusted to do what is expected of them. They are conscientious and methodical, and persist until the job is done.
Habits:● Curling and uncurling tail when nervous
● Has a habit of referring to all she-cats as ma'am or miss, regardless of how well he knows them
Fears:● Being useless
● Fearful of a second Nott/Forn war
● Letting others down
Other:● Surprisingly good soup cook
● Respects the animals he kills; believes strongly that they have souls and should be thanked for their nutrition
Dreams / Goals:● His village accepting him, maybe even making them proud.
Build: Tall, Lanky, but any mass is muscle.
Physical Health 97%
Fairly healthy; no injuries or illness.
Emotional Health 79%
Pretty stable, perhaps a little shaken and uneasy about talking about his past.
Romantic Orientation: Unsure, never felt an attraction- perhaps demiromantic?
Sexual Orientation: DemisexualCurrent Partner: None
Past Experiences: None, Virgin
Gentle Giant would be the easiest way to describe Graeme. With his soft, low voice and slow, cautious movements, he lets off a sort of atmosphere of comfort. But don't let his calm disposition fool you; He'll do whatever it takes to accomplish his goal, and when he gets angry, he gets angry. He is, however, the first one to admit a mistake or apologize after a fight, and he's usually the peacekeeper of groups. He will be loyal to the very end to those he cares for, and he would quickly give himself up for the good of others. He isn't, however, the sharpest crayon in the toolbox. These qualities often lead him to let himself be pushed around and taken advantage of. There have been many a time when he has had to of been told that someone isn't as kind as he thinks they are. As a kitten he was even more of a doormat, and even though his parents often had to help him, he still insists that his bullies did nothing wrong but act like what they were- kittens.
[ Gentle ]Growing up around cats much smaller than you has taught Graeme to be gentle, because sometimes he doesn't know his own strength.
[ Clumsy ]Being raised by cats half your height in a house you can't fully stand up in, Graeme broke a lot of pottery. He's notably better now, but he still has his moments
[ Comforting ]Graeme has heard more secrets than he can count, probably because of his kind nature and easy to talk to attitude.
[ Bottled Up ]Though he really doesn't mean to, Graeme often stores up any and all anger he has. This means that whenever he does let anything out, he lets it all out.
[ Altruistic ]Finishing things is very important to Graeme, and if the best outcome includes him giving himself up-especially in lieu of others- so be it.
[ Dim-Witted ]Though he's fairly smart academically, Graeme doesn't pick up on a lot of subtleties. Sarcasm and a lot of idioms go right over his head. Don't expect him to pick up on flirting, either.
[ Loyal ]A true mate, once Graeme has decided he likes you- and that's usually pretty quick- he'll follow you to the ends of the earth.
[ Pushover ]A side effect of his selflessness and density, Graeme has a hard time realizing when hes being taken advantage of.
[ Abandoned ]In the north outskirts of HighVale there exists a town called Jordur. Traditionally, Notts had been the only cats to live there and as such it was a very traditional town- and let's just say they weren't fond of Forns. The first Vaenn to move there was a skilled hunter named Gunnar Kirkwood, and while his arrival was welcomed by all, a certain young cat named Eida took an immediate shine to him. A year later, the two were married, and they settled down in a house of their own. Eager to start a family, they took a trip to the Capital to buy a fertility stone. Instead of being gone for a month, they returned the next day with, oddly enough, a new kitten.
The beginning of Graeme's life had always been a mystery. He was taken in by Eida and Gunnar when they found him abandoned on the forest trail out of Jordur, but where he came from and who his parents were was a mystery. As soon as the Kirkwoods were back home, they realized he was a Forn, courtesy of a tiny cut on his paw.
"We can't tell anyone... Gunnar, what will we do? We have to take care of him, but if the village finds o--"
"Eida, it's alright. We can do this. We were hoping for a child, right? Maybe Mardoll sent him as a blessing."
The only other cat in town they decided to tell was the healer, a wise old cat who honestly didn't care. "We've had enough fighting," He said, "The only way to stop it is to accept each other."
So Gunnar and Eida raised Graeme with his heritage kept a secret- even from himself.
[ Not a Nott ]The older he got, however, it became harder and harder for Graeme's parents to claim he was a Vaenn. He had no natural talent for magic. He was taller than them by the time he was 8 months old. But the biggest problem by far had to be that his pupils were getting extremely light.The village began to wonder just where exactly he had come from, again? Gunnar insisted that he was his nephew. Eida warned her son to be careful not to get hurt, lest he bleed and reveal his true heritage. So he was raised in a village of Notts, with their customs and beliefs. He worshipped Mardoll, Bygul and Tygul, and believed one day he would make an egg shell necklace. He learned hunting from his father, and though his light coat and clumsiness certainly didn't help, he eventually became very good at it. But suspicions were stirring. Rumors about him perhaps not being who he said he was were spreading. Blissfully unaware for too long, the tables began to turn very abruptly.
[ Cast Out ]On their first real hunting trip, Gunnar had fallen down a steep slope and hit his head on a rock. Graeme carried his barely conscious father back to village as fast as he could, running through thorn and gorse bushes. By the time he got back to the village, his legs were bleeding, his paw pads were raw, and he was exhausted. Graeme laid his father down on his bed, passing startled villagers, and the healer rushed in while Graeme waited with his mother outside. The village gathered around them. From behind he began to hear shocked whispers.
"His feet! He's bleeding blue!"
Graeme turned around. A Forn? he thought, Where? The crowd began to get louder.
"He's a Forn?"
"No, he's a Vaenn... right?"
"Gunnar said he was his nephew!"
"But I thought--"
The healer opened his door, and the crowd was silent immediately. "He'll be fine in a few weeks, he just needs rest," He told Eida, "I'll be back tomorrow. You should go inside." Graeme's father was still on the bed, his head bandaged. "Eida, Graeme," he said weakly, "I heard them- do they know?"
"Know what? What were they talking about, mother?"
Eida looked at her son sadly. "You aren't our nephew, Graeme. We found you in the forest. You're a Forn."
Graeme backed up slowly, bumping into a table covered with potions. "No, I'm... I'm a Vaenn, remember?"
"I'm sorry, son," Gunnar closed his eyes, "We should have told you."
Graeme looked down at his feet, covered in little blue streaks. He put a paw on his forehead. The room was spinning, and he could hear angry shouting outside.
"Graeme, dear," Eida grabbed his paw, "You have to leave now. Here's your things," She handed him a bag, "And we've been saving this sword for you. take it just in case." She quickly put the sword into the sheath on Graeme's belt. "Head south and you'll hit the capital. Go now. Hurry!"
Graeme hung the bag over his shoulder and grabbed his mother, pulling her into his tearful hug.
"I'll miss you. A lot."
He let go of her and gave a sad look to his father, who was tearing up. "Stay safe, Graeme. Try to write us from the Capital."
"I love you."
And with that, Graeme left.
[ Refuge ]As he made his way the Capital, all Greme could think about was how broken he felt. When he left his home, he left behind who he thought he was.
So who was he?
He wasn't a Nott. He was sure about that.
But he also apparently wasn't a Vaenn.
That left him two options:
1. A Forn. Something he had been told to hate.
2. Something else. Someone else. Someone who could break free from those 3 definitions and be more. Someone to love. Someone to be proud of. A hero, even.
So that's who he decided he was going to be.
Now he just needed to become it.
Key:[ Name | Gender | SubBreed | Status ]
Parents:[ ??? | Female | Forn? | ??? ]
[ ??? | Male | Forn | ??? ]
Siblings:[ None? ]
Adoptive Parents:[ Eida Kirkwood | Female | Nott | Alive ]
[ Gunnar Kirkwood | Male | Vaenn | Alive ]
Lvl 1: Sure!
Lvl 2: Can-do!
Lvl 3: Preferred
Lvl 4: Able to, rather not
Time Zone: PST
Skype: [ ✘ (For now, at least) ]
Notes: [ ✔ ]
Chats: [ ✔ ]
Comments: [ ✔ ]
Google Docs: [ Maybe? ]
[ Augustine from Threefold-Kingdoms ]Augustine stormed over to them as soon as the scrawny cat was on the ground. His head was practically steaming, and his fists were clenched into balls. "Hey!" He barked, approaching them, "What's going on here?!" He glared at the large dog, recognizing him as being part of a group that had caused trouble in the market a week before." He turned to one of them, who was holding an apple. "Return that at once!" The cat opened his mouth to answer, but the dog interrupted. "Who's making us, weasel?" He taunted. Gus looked at him with disgust. "I am not a weasel, I am a mongoose," He said firmly. "And I don't think your mother would be very happy if you came home is shredded clothing," He put his hand on his sword. The dog looked at him angrily, but turned to the others. "Fine. Give him the stupid apple." The dark cat reluctantly handed it over, and Gus snatched it from his hand. "Thank you." He said briskly, "And I'd better not see you doing this again!" He called out to them as they walked away indignantly. His gaze softened as he turned to the small cat, who was still on the ground. "Are you alright?" He held out a hand to help him up.
Drawn Application Template © 3lectronicAt
Rebooted Application Template © KalCity
RoadToFolkvangr © 3lectronicAt
Graeme Kirkwood © Kurfufflen