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Syn Application: Piñara Conada
P L A Y E R;
NAME: Amelia Ng
AGE: 21
PLAYER JOURNAL: n/a
TIMEZONE: GMT
CONTACT: Gamernews132@gmail.com, @thebestkindofmad on tumblr, @thebestkindofmad#1479 on Discord
C H A R A C T E R;
NAME: Piñara (Piña) Conada
CANON: Final Fantasy XIV
POINT IN CANON:
AGE: 28
APPEARANCE: Pale blond, almost silvery hair, that wavers around shorn short and shoulder lengths. Very small in stature. Imagine a potato with limbs and cute, pointy ears, yellow eyes and smirking. Like, all the time. She’s a bard. She’s allowed.
CANON HISTORY: FFXIV Warrior of light (up until heavensward)
Scion of the Seventh Dawn. Reluctant keeper of the peace, apparently.
The only Bard that knows how to play “darude sandstorm” and makes it bolster an entire army.
Pinya comes from a long line of merchants well known in the Ul’Dahn merchant circles, and even further afield than that. Her family is comparable to a mob family, they know everyone and are everywhere, a generally benevolent force, but you always end up owing them a favour somehow. They are expert crafters and gatherers and heavily contribute to the continent’s economic wellbeing.
Pinya is the third youngest of her seven siblings, and to branch out from her family’s usual craft mongering, wanted to study the art of the bow. She arrived in Gridania and fell in love with it, and was a quick study with the Archer’s Guild and when she learned everything she could there, started following the rumours of a wandering bard. Eventually, she climbed rank in the Twin adders and became a First Serpent Lieutenant. She was drafted into the Scions of the Seventh dawn, where she became a “hero” to her countrymen and a member of the steadfast Warriors of Light. There, she met Connor, another Lalafell of a certain reputation in the merchant’s guild, but he had been keeping it hidden. With her ability to discern the truth of spoken words, she eventually wheedled it out of him, and they became as siblings.
When he died in battle, she became inconsolable for long months, becoming brutal, ruthless and a mean drunk. She picked up healing as Connor had left her his cane, and she couldn’t watch it go unused and waste away; nor could she bring herself to give it to someone else. In the two years that have passed since Connor died, she has mastered healing. Not a mastery born of an innate need to help people, but of a stubbornness that will not let another party member fall.
She goes on to almost rampage through the Heavensward Knights and their accomplices, as they killed both Hauchefant, Felih’s beloved, and Connor. they were imprisoned in Ishgard for crimes of heresy, and Pinya spent long nights battling with herself to not go down there and execute them in the most painful way possible. She had brought this up to Aymeric (now leader of Ishgard), asking him to make sure she didn’t do so.
During Stormblood, she was pulled out of her depression by discovering new continents and exploring vast oceans, by working to liberate not one, but two sets of people from Garlean rule. Killing more Garleans put her at ease somewhat. When she confronted Zenos, she finally realised that she couldn’t keep blindly attacking the enemy forces like she had been doing, lest she turn into a monster like himself.
It’s taken her a while, but now, surrounded with friends, family and people who need her and who she needs, she’s recovering.
CANON PERSONALITY:
[[[“You can’t do that.” Her mother says in an already defeated tone. Mama Conada knows her daughter well enough that yes, she can.
“Fucking….. watch me.” There isn’t even pause to make an objection before her little girl of two decades is quite happily attempting to force an entire 12” cake into her mouth, decoration and all.
“Baby please, not here.” It’s the middle of the marketplace. Pinya has been trading here for over a decade already. New merchants look on, disgusted. Veterans have started placing their bets. Garand, the Alchemist just across from Conada wares leans over to his new apprentice and tells him:
“If Madam Pinya’s doing something out o’ spite, best put yer bets on ‘her. She’ll do it an’ then some.”
The apprentice looks over in something resembling nausea and awe. The cake is gone. Madame Cocola’s face is in her palms. Her daughter has icing all around her mouth and puffed out cheeks, she wears one of the sticky icing flowers in her hair.
Pinya catches the apprentice’s eyes across the street.
She winks and waves as he’s seen the Ul’dahn royalty do so many times.
It’s the least attractive thing he’s ever seen. Connor knows immediately that he has to meet her. ]]]
Pinya is a hard and fast friend. It takes about five second for her to endear yourself to her if you tick all of her boxes. People say that she can see straight through you the moment she takes your hand and tells you her name.
She has the inherent ability to know when other mortals are telling the truth and being truthful (Manifestation of Hydaleyn’s Echo). If she likes you, she knows exactly why.
She has spent years honing and sharpening her mercantile skills training in the family business, and really appreciates when someone just asks for what they want or need without any superfluous words or hidden agendas. Many a time has an unwitting merchant seen this lackadaisical woman on the merchant strip of a city and tried to swindle her. She looks like an easy mark with lots of gold to spend! Why wouldn’t you take advantage of that? It’s not until she’s left that they realise that they are the ones who have been swindled, as she talks intricate circles around even the most experienced sellers. The more she talks the more they feel they have to keep her on the hook. A sample there, a freebie here. It’s all going well until at the last second, a ruthless barterer comes to the surface. The offending party is usually too startled to put up much of a fight. [Next time darling, don’t try to go after the woman that owns the ground under your stall, hm? ]
Pinya is cheeky and charming, but this facade hides an iron will and a burning desire to climb in the world. She can be teasing and brutally blunt in the same sentence without batting an eye. She is a bit of a class clown and won't hesitate to make a fool out of herself if there’s a comedic moment to be had. It doesn’t matter to her who her audience is; let her friends be cheered and her enemies put their guard down. Life is a performance art and she aims to get the standing ovation. In more recent years, in places that don’t recognise her face, she has become a bit of a Grifter and her acting has become a lit more sharp, a little more insidious than she needs to be in her characters.
Pinya is fiercely protective of her friends and family, and will take any slight against them as an excuse to cause some chaos to the people making them upset. This has resulted in her being incredibly good at small, petty pranks and most importantly, not getting caught.
When she is pushed past her limits emotionally, she is blank. Scarily blank. She becomes a machine until she is at the top, broken, bleeding, but right and victorious. It has happened only once before, when Connor died in battle. She was not herself until after she had killed King Thordan and all of the heavensward, and even then, she needed to be restrained until the city was cleared of the Heavensward Sympathisers.
Pinya is a contradiction to herself, as she is as intimately familiar with piercing someone through the heart as she is stabilising them from the brink of death. In both cases, she is only satisfied is she has done her job well. Though she tries to hide it, she revels in battle and loves being in the heat of the fight. She doesn’t outright condone killing, and never of an innocent, but she will certainly shoot first ask questions later. An arrow through the leg never killed anyone (important).
Connor and Pinya were as thick as thieves, brother and sister in arms, two young adults brought up by two vastly different Merchant families. While Pinya had a family that would support her no matter what, if Connor wasn’t getting the right numbers (and he never really cared to) he would be shunned and shamed by the whole family and eventually, disowned them. The Conada family were more than happy to take him in, after Pinya told her parents about his predicament. The two of them together were ‘Double Trouble’, two renowned pranksters and pun crafters. The amount of effort they put into duping someone else at times was far, far too much. There is a reason that both headquarters for the Scions have a “Shame Basket”, and a couple of ner’doells have scars where scars should have no right to be.
POINT OF DEPARTURE: Patch 4.15, just after the events of the Rabanastre Raid, and the conclusion of the MSQ that starts to deal with Ala Mhigan peace talks and how to rebuild the country. V’Felih has been missing for months now.
VETERAN?: NOPE
ABILITIES: Really fucking good at shooting things (very precise even over long distances tho she probably can't thread a needle to save her live)
Can tell if people are deceiving her via her Echo manifestation. A healer, knows a lot about field medical and magical healing.
Can play most string instruments, and the piano/harpsichord, can sing in order to boost morale (HP+, Defence Up, M.Defence Up)
She’s a tactician at heart, bringing forth her mercantile instincts to the battlefield, is good at seeing the whole picture in a battle, tends not to tunnel vision (until someone close to her has been grievously injured, then nothing is going to stop a motherfucker.)
Her family are information brokers and tend to act like a benevolent Mafia, so she can be very manipulative and seeks personal knowledge about most people she comes across.
Has trained as a botanist, and has dabbled in Carpentry and Alchemy.
Is particularly good at tying knots and making tents, can ride horses, goats and occasionally, cows (Travelling merchant)
INVENTORY:
A whole bunch of crafting equipment
Lots of particle effect makers
Anima Bow
I’m just guessing she managers to conjure up arrows from the aether, as it’s never addressed in game? Lots of arrows otherwise
A whole bunch of alcohol
Maps of Hydaelyn
a fantasy mp3 player. (A Harp, it’s a Harp)
Connor’s WHM staff (Neé: The “Idiot Stick”)
Poisons she uses to tip her arrows with.
A near impossible amount of rope.
A botanist’s Almanac.
M A R K S;
JUSTIFICATION:
Chariot: Victories are important to Pinya. She feels like she is owed them, after so many losses and hollow wins. It doesn’t apply to the battlefield alone for the little Lalafell though, she needs her Company to be at their best too, and she’ll be damned if she can’t push them there. She works hard and fights harder, and really, she plays even harder than that.
Fool: This one is self-explanatory. Pinya is the group jester, and she can’t stand to see her party or those around her suffer, unless they have managed to pitch themselves on her bad side. This is impressive, as she’s usually willing to give people more than one chance. She also deals with her closest friend’s death in an immature way, going out of her way to cause destruction and chaos, expending far more energy than was sensible to make those people suffer. Also, she’s a bard. She sings in combat, because fuck you.
Magician: Movement/precision/creativity. As a bard, Pinya is constantly analysing the battlefield, deciding which song would be best where, where to boost her comrades and how, knowing that a single fleeting arrow could turn the tides of a field as easily as wind moves the grass. She is always moving. She can’t stop lest she becomes a target, or a comrade is too far out of reach. She knows that she will see this battle and her friends through, no matter the cost.
S A M P L E S;
ACTIONSPAM SAMPLE:
You can say what you like, Quila. I’m not giving the pup back. [A pause.] Uhh no. I found him in the abandoned ruins of Nym. I highly doubt that his owner, if he ever had one in the first place, is still looking for hi- what?
What do you mean it isn’t even a ‘real dog’? [She picks up the lizard puppy and he dangles from her tiny arms as she hugs him, she is mostly dwarfed]
Look! He’s a real dog alright. look he’s so waaarrrmmmmmm~! ...Dogs can have scales, Quila, don’t be racist. That doesn’t make him not a dog.
[Interrupting] I can’t hear you! La la la la laaaaa! C’mon Rex. we’re leaving. Someone’s being a party pooper.
PROSE SAMPLE:
It’s always too quiet for her tastes in the Coerthas highlands. The snow makes everything dull to the ears but sharp to the skin; it’s a combination she hates. She can feel the ice water seeping through her leather boots, her hands are cold, and she has been hungry for the past two hours; a hunt has never been less appealing in her life.
It is however, a very lucrative hunt, and the Mammoth known as Lubya has enough fur to outfit most, if not all her regiment. She wouldn't say no to some new socks either. He’s seen her face before, taking on a couple of other monsters in the area, and every other time she’d tried to come close he’d cause a ruckus and panic every other twelve’s-damned monster in the area.
Her breath crystallises in the cold wind, swept up and away by the wind even covered by she is in this bare bush. She feels slow, steady tremors in the ground. It’s approaching.
The beast’s thick fur is matted with snow and it’s heaving breaths obscure its approach is giant clouds of steam. Each step brings it closer to the little Lalafell it hasn’t noticed yet.
A step.
She readies her arrow, dips it in a fast-acting paralysis and numbing agent. She wants the beast dead, fast enough that she doesn’t cause pain.
A step.
Her bowstring is pulled taught; slowly, as to not make a sound. She makes note of the wind, ready to adjust her flight path as needed.
A step.
Two.
Three.
Her arrow flies.
The satisfying twing-thunk of an arrow that hits its mark and the crash of a beast falling into the snow. Pinya waits until she can’t see breathing, a mere second or two after Lubya falls.
She scampers out from her cover, dusting herself off. She pulls the arrow from the eye gently, closing the eyelid and wiping away the little blood there was from the mammoth’s face.
“May your death serve the lives of others, and may your bones enrich the lands you roamed. We thank you, Lubya.” She speaks lowly into the fur of the body.
She is silent for a moment, listening to the wind and the snow, not moving.
She closes her eyes.
“How in the fuck am I getting you back home.”