Difference between revisions of "Sana Sunada"
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− | <div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #b5cde4; color:#ffffff;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 0px 0px 0px black"><b>''Common Rumors -'' </b> | + | <div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #b5cde4; color:#ffffff;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 0px 0px 0px black"><b>''Common Rumors -'' </b>Public knowledge and easily overheard facts. Feel free to use.</div> |
− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> "...safe with the inquisition. Thankfully, she is far away from the radicals."</div> |
− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> “...stirring social unrest, even though the Dragonsong war is ''long over''…"</div> |
− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> "...from Dravania, claimed by Lord Antone Renaud as his illegitimate half-raen daughter…"</div> |
− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> "Rivage Renaud Found ALIVE and WELL After Disappearance - Read More Inside"</div> |
− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> “Private informant tells ALL to our reporters: Rivage Renaud, or Sana Sunada?"</div> |
− | <div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #b5cde4; color:#ffffff;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 0px 0px 0px black"><b>''Uncommon Rumors -''</b> | + | <div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #b5cde4; color:#ffffff;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 0px 0px 0px black"><b>''Uncommon Rumors -''</b>Snippets of quiet conversations and articles dogpiled into obscurity. Feel free to use with careful consideration.</div> |
− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> "No, she's the daughter of a Hingashi socialite. Sana is her name—her mother's come forward to claim her already."</div> |
− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> “And they're travelling from all over. It's great for the economy, but Gods, the political climate… who's ever heard of Thavnairian heretics?"</div> |
− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> “...on the stage. And who designed that costume? She looked like a ''prostitute;'' hardly a queen…"</div> |
− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> “The Sunada Scandal in Retrospect: Viewing Rivage through a Kinder Lens"</div> |
− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> "...there's no way. The inquisitors wouldn't have anything to pick at with Rivage, would they?"</div> |
− | <div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #b5cde4; color:#ffffff;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 0px 0px 0px black"><b>''Rare Rumors -''</b> | + | <div style="padding:10px 25px; background: #b5cde4; color:#ffffff;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;text-shadow: 0px 0px 0px black"><b>''Rare Rumors -''</b>Rumors too intimate to be anything but an insider's knowledge, passed from mouth to mouth, spreading slowly. Please ask to use, and we can start a plot!</div> |
− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> “She | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> “She's a born martyr. Look at her, trying to die. You know they have to lock her in Renaud Manor so she won't jump off the city."</div> |
− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> “...consorting with full-blooded dragons, they say. Enjoying it. The war is over—but fury forbid that we lay with dragons…"</div> |
− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> “Reine disappears to the inquisitorium, then comes back with a new haircut. Have you ever seen her take off her gloves since? I haven't either."</div> |
− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> “There's an armada of Sunadas in Othard—it doesn't add up, I tell you; they have her name, but it doesn't mean anything." </div> |
− | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> | + | : <div style="font-family:Georgia;"><font style="color:#543950;" size="3">+</font> “...and let it slip, after a few cocktails, that he found her lying with a Dzemael. I don't think he meant to say it, but it came out; he knows, and we know, that she's a common whore."</div> |
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Revision as of 10:18, 4 February 2019
Contents
Sana Sunada is the furthest thing from a curious figure. She isn’t interesting, compelling, nor is she especially talented in any extraordinary thing. That’s how it seems, at least, upon first meeting the girl—she’s terribly simple-seeming; it’s almost tragic. She’s square as a sugarcube and disinteresting as dust gathered in the attic; she’s a flower pressed between the pages of a book, dry and dead and faded to a pale shade of periwinkle. But of course, she has her own secret chronicle of adventures—she grew up in Doma during Garlean occupation, then sailed across the seas to Eorzea, seeking refuge. For a time, she worked as a housekeeper; for a time, she did nothing, simply existing in inn rooms. She was a lost dandelion set adrift on the wind, writing songs and poems and collecting books to learn the language. And once she’d gained her footing in her new home, fate saw it fit to undo everything in a scattering spiral of unspooling constellations and aimless stars. Fate saw it fit to tangle her in a cosmic dance that she can’t step away from.
She is easily overlooked, especially in a crowd of her own people. Everything about her is prim and pretty, but natural and understated—a beauty not unlike that of a wildflower.
She is, however, remarkably dainty. Thin and frail from head to tail to toe, the sharp contours and curves of her bones are more far apparent than those of supple sinew. Her wrists and ankles look dangerously thin, as though she’s like to topple over or break in half at any time. With virtually no curves to speak of, her bust all but disappears underneath her clothing. Her tail, too, is skinnier than average. It whips and flicks like lemongrass turning on the breeze. If it weren’t for the singsong cadence of her voice, it’d be easy to mistake her for a young male.
Typically, she wears her hair parted down the middle and pulled into two low pigtails. The hairstyle compliments her facial structure—framed by her long bangs, her gentle features are made gentler, bright eyes promising forgiveness and warmth, lips promising petal-soft kisses. The soft swell of her cheekbones and the dip of her brow into the shallow slope of her nose draw the observer’s gaze to her sleepy, half-lidded eyes, that, in the right lighting, appear dark and sultry. Her irises are the color of pale tundra flowers under an evening sky.
Most things about her are flowerlike—from her eyes to her wisteria-whispering voice to the perfume of sunlight and soil that scents her vicinity, she’s a garden of a girl, a bed of sunflowers and daisies and ruby-red petunias that nod and dance on the wind. When she talks, she’s quite animated—but the way she covers her smile with her hand and twists her hands together suggests that she’s trying to subdue herself.
Aspects that stand out:
First and foremost, she’s a people-pleaser, ever at the mercy of her loved ones when it comes to her emotional stability. But she’s ever so quiet—she just can’t overtly ask for the love that she needs; instead, she’s forever trying to subtly gain it through small, silent gestures: making rosemary tea, mending clothes, listening to woes for hours on end, or tidying up living spaces. She likes to bring people pressed wildflowers and butterfly wings as little favors of her love, but can never bring herself to put together bouquets of flowers from her garden.
If there’s one thing Sana is good at, it’s cleaning—she’s a only clear-minded person because she makes a habit of straightening things in houses. She’d like to think that she has a spotless mind, but it’s quite far from being so. She’s only very, very talented at keeping herself distracted and keeping her hands busy.
She blushes a lot and covers her mouth with her hand when she smiles; she’s known to stutter and fumble over her words when flustered—which isn't too uncommon. For this reason, she often finds herself at the end of harmless (or, actually, not so harmless) jokes that deter her from ever trying to make casual conversation again. She always bounces back, though, usually with the help of someone looking to be in mild distress. She is always one to help a stranger in peril, and that, too, lands her in a lot of trouble.
She pays attention to the tiny, easily-overlooked details, like the beetles living in her garden, or the phases of the moon.
She is a moongazer; a dreamer; a philocalist.
Aspects that stand out:
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