Connie is extremely competitive and strives to become the best at every task they are given. The benefit of this cutthroat approach to life and work is that they will always give 100%, pushing themself to their physical or mental limits to overcome any task. However, Connie’s overzealous ambition makes them insufferable to all but the most patient of companions, making it difficult to make friends while they either proves successful or utterly fails at being the best.

Connie will never willingly show her natural form, disgusted and dissociated from it, and never offer her own true name. Rather, they change as she pleases or needs, shifting species, gender, or age. Her exceptional and supernatural control over her own body even to a cellular level empowers rearrangement of her organs and bones well beyond sanity, and mastery in transforming themselves to eclectic and monstrous degrees can produce results both beguiling and fearsome, subtle and spectacular. The fey collects names, faces, mannerisms, and voices in her travels, incorporating them into her disguises. While some of these "people" she assumes are little more than shells, meant for brief purpose or entertainment, some can be detailed masks or full aliases, named faces that are different personalities but still themself. No power is without price, though; Connie pays in constant agony, fueled to continue only by pure spite and numbing alcohol.

Connie has a tendency to get addicted to things, even if those things aren't addictive.

Whether it's a high drop from heights, a dangerous mission with terrible odds, or plain stupid jackassery, Connie is willing to do it. She is brave, bold, and confident in any challenges, delighted by any risk. Some might think her an adrenaline junkie, some might think her a fool; but the changeling is anything but foolish, calculating most every interaction and move with all the savage acumen of a dijark master. It's not that Connie is thoughtless. It's that she's breakneck reckless in the way of someone convinced they're going to die...or are already dead. She treats every moment like her last, savage as blood in her mouth and teeth in the throat, and can little be deterred by any word of caution, scoffing at a future when there's a present to live.

When it comes to a fight, some like to posture, some like to act tough, some like to dance around and go through all sorts of fancy footwork. Connie? Connie doesn't bother with exotic battle stances, intricate maneuvers, or super-secret tactics. Connie, when cornered into a fight, prefers the ancient technique of a good kick to the nuts. And if that won't work, either because the enemy is a woman or has balls of steel, Connie isn't beyond pulling a few more cheap tricks out of the bag. Granted, Connie won't be winning any medals for nobility or any prestige for a unique fighting style or a superb maneuver, but Connie will still be winning, the best and most dirty way they know how.

Connie seems to get their thrills, perhaps sadistic ones at that, from toying with their opponents. Some are content with simply striking down or injuring their opponent, but that is not enough for Connie. No, they wish to see their enemy descend into madness or kneel before them as a blathering mess; or even better, as a fresh new servant with a muddled mind. The Puppeteer usually forsakes outright hurting and maiming their opponent and focuses on illusions, mind tricks, and other wicked means of destroying a person.