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[color=FFEF00][h3][i]“I run. I kick. I punch. I listen. I write. I give. I live. 
Stars above, I live.”[/i][/h3][/color]
[color=white][b][i]– HEATHER LYONS[/i][/b][/color]

[i][sub]Emerson is tiny and slight and sure-footed, almost like she was just built for maneuvering through tight crawl spaces and narrow piping and venting systems. Her bearing is airy and mischievous, and she carries herself with the cocksureness of someone too young to know any better. Or perhaps, of someone who doesn't give a damn no matter what the consequence. Emerson dresses partly for ease of movement but mostly for style. There was many a blunder she could have forgone if only she had chosen to wear appropriate shoes, but hey, if she can run in five-inch stilettos, she can run in anything.[/sub]
[/i]

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[color=white][h3]Basic Information[/h3][/color][/center]
[color=FFEF00]N A M E[/color]
[indent]Emerson Penelope Knox[/indent]
[color=FFEF00]N I C K N A M E[/color]
[indent][b]Em, Emmy[/b] - People who like her.
[b]Knox[/b] - People who don't like her.
[b]Penelope[/b] - People who want her to hate them.
[i][b]Fuck![/b][/i] - People who were chasing her but can't find her anymore.
[/indent]
[color=FFEF00]B I R T H   D A T E[/color]
[indent]April 3[/indent]
[color=FFEF00]G E N D E R[/color]
[indent]Female[/indent]
[color=FFEF00]A G E[/color]
[indent]16 [/indent]
[color=FFEF00]S E X U A L I T Y[/color]
[indent]Bisexual[/indent]

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[img]https://38.media.tumblr.com/c34c9481a9b7ede87f57bebc1d214211/tumblr_inline_nz4gnnHMDA1reza0u_500.gif[/img]
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[color=white][h3]Imprisonment[/h3][/color][/center]
[color=FFEF00]C R I M E[/color]
[indent]Treason, theft, arms trafficking[/indent]
[color=FFEF00]Y E A R S  S P E N T[/color]
[indent]Seven months[/indent]
[color=FFEF00]P R I S O N  E L E C T I V E[/color]
[indent]Helping draft schematics for biotechs or blueprints for the station[/indent]
[color=FFEF00]C E L L  M A T E[/color]
[indent]tbd[/indent]

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[img]https://31.media.tumblr.com/dc36247691913b92c3c6ece4ebac7467/tumblr_nqggyp5zhm1uow12wo1_500.gif[/img]
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[color=white][h3]Education & Skills[/h3][/color][/center]
[color=FFEF00]O C C U P A T I O N[/color]
[indent]Her parents are researchers, probably. They always have those lab coats on. Also, they're full-time Inquisitor suck-ups. [/indent]
[color=FFEF00]C L A S S E S[/color]
[indent][list][*]Physics
[*]Engineering
[*]Art
[*]History
[*]Calculus
[*]English
[/list][/indent]
[color=FFEF00]S K I L L S[/color]
[indent][b]Spatial and visual acuity.[/b] Emerson has keen eyesight and can process, generate, and retain well-structured visual cues easily. Most of what she can do derives from her unusually high visual-spatial intelligence, like:
[list][*]Great sense of direction. Emerson doesn't get lost; she'll never forget a place after visiting it once. 
[*]Accurate measurements. She can accurately measure distances and lengths without needing to rely on instruments.
[*]Drawing. Emerson thinks in pictures and expresses better in pictures as well. She's pretty sure she can illustrate what she's feeling better than she can explain it.
[*]Precision. She may or may not have practiced with the weapons she steals, but she'll have you know, she's a very good shot.
[/list][/indent]

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[color=white][h3]Mannerisms[/h3][/color][/center]
[color=FFEF00]L I K E S[/color]
[indent][list][*] Playing games
[*] Causing trouble for Inquisitors
[*] Exploring
[*] Anything that gives you an adrenaline rush
[*] Coloring; it's super relaxing
[*] Crawling through vents and listening to gossip
[*] Looking at pretty people
[/list][/indent]
[color=FFEF00]D I S L I K E S[/color]
[indent][list][*] Fuck you, Inquisitors
[*] Being idle
[*] Her parents suck
[*] When her nice clothes get caught in something while she's exploring the vents and they tear
[*] Crying in public
[*] Displaying other embarrassing emotions in public
[*] Being forced to do something
[/list][/indent]
[color=FFEF00]H A B I T S[/color]
[indent][list][*] When confronted, her first instincts are to go: (ง’̀-‘́)ง
[*] Doodles idly
[*] Uses color as substitute descriptors when she can't find the right word
[/list][/indent]
[color=FFEF00]H O B B I E S[/color]
[indent][list][*] Chess
[*] Drawing
[*] Collecting shiny trinkets she comes across when exploring
[/list][/indent]
[color=FFEF00]F E A R S[/color]
[indent][list][*]Being unable to protect her family (not her parents, her real family)
[*] Losing her family
[*] The list of people she's afraid to lose growing
[/list][/indent]

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[color=white][h3]Delving Deeper[/h3][/color][/center]
[color=FFEF00]P E R S O N A L I T Y[/color]
[indent]A little firecracker with a rebellious streak and a deep-seated hatred for the Inquisitors. Emerson stirs up trouble for fun and attention and because she can get away with it. Flippant is her default state and playful is her backup. Everything's a game to her. Running away from five armed guards? Nope, it's just a challenging game of tag. Sneaking in and out of an armory with a bagful of weapons? Hide and seek. After going through some existential depression crap (and only at age ten; she's such an early bloomer), Emerson sort of noped out of taking anything seriously. The way she sees it, fate's been screwing with her all her life. Might as well get in on the fun.

But watch out: she'll fool you into thinking she doesn't care when she really does. A bit too much. Emerson hides behind snark and sass and defiant grins because underneath is a bleeding heart that's easy to sway. There's a reason for the tall walls of frivolity she built around herself—they help keep people away so she doesn't get attached. Because if she does, she will die for you or kill for you, and she's not sure she wants to find out which one she'll end up doing. 

Emerson's got a thing for protecting the underdog, a short temper, and a tendency to disregard limits; all the makings of a trouble magnet with a death wish. Nothing fazes her, so she thinks that means she can do anything. It works out best for everyone if she has an anchor by her side—someone to pull her down when she's ready to fly to the sun.
[/indent]
[color=FFEF00]H I S T O R Y[/color]
[indent]Emerson's got a mother and a father, but they were too busy doing the Inquisitors' bidding to do much parenting. So instead, they left her under the care of her aunt and Emerson has been living with them ever since. The only times she ever saw her parents were on the first of every month, during which they took her to a facility and did a bunch of weird diagnostic crap on her. They would ask her questions a therapist might, perform health checkups, and "put her abilities to the test." She was instructed never to tell a soul about what transpired between, and she never did. No one would believe her anyway.

Back when she didn't know any better, she was excited for the beginning of each month. Emerson never questioned her parents' actions. All that mattered was that she got to spend time with them. She loved her aunt and uncle more than the galaxy, but they were [i]Ryker's[/i] parents and she didn't want to steal them from him. What she wanted was for her own parents to love her back, so she did her best to please them. If acing their weird tests made them proud, then she was going to kick ass on them.

But then she turned ten and she knew better.

The day before her monthly meeting with her parents, Emerson was kidnapped (or "scouted," as they called it) by two members of AEGIS—then a small, wannabe syndicate made up of criminals and outcasts tired of the Inquisitors' rule and looking to revolt. They explained to her what her parents were doing, why they were doing it, and who they were doing it for: Inquisitors, Inquisitors, Inquisitors. 

Turned out her parents were Eugenics test subjects, chosen by the Inquisitors as the most genetically compatible man and woman with high visual-spatial intelligence. The hypothesis was that their child should be born with advanced visual and spatial acuity, matching or surpassing their own. They would have to test the child to be sure; track its progress and hone its abilities so that in the future, it may serve the Inquisitors.

So basically, they were saying she was engineered to be a tool for the Inquisitors. 

AEGIS left her with a choice before sending her back, one that would change everything for her. They could leave her alone, pretend none of this happened, and she can continue being an experiment; or, she can keep quiet abd help them take down the Inquisitors. 

Emerson spent nearly a year mulling over her decision, but the more first of the months that came by, the more she became disenchanted with her parents. By the end of the year, she was tired of thinking. Tired of worrying. Tired of hurting. She chose the lesser of two evils—the scumbags over her parents—and spent the next five years of her life with AEGIS, gladly causing trouble for the Inquisitors at every turn.

Her parents caught onto her shenanigans when she failed to attend their monthly diagnostics for the first time. Emerson was never caught red-handed, mind you, but her parents could easily piece two and two together. Firearms stolen from hidden armories no one should have been able to find, the small culprit managing to outmaneuver guards who know the sectors by heart, known traitors looting Inquisitor compounds too efficiently, as though they knew every inch of the domain. 

They turned Emerson in as soon as they found out.
[/indent]
[color=FFEF00]T H E M E   S O N G[/color]
[indent][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FehA9OwZflw]Icarus – Bastille[/url]
[sub]Icarus is flying too close to the sun
And Icarus's life, it has only just begun
And this is how it feels to take a fall
Icarus is flying towards an early grave[/sub][/indent]

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[color=FFEF00]E X T R A  I N F O[/color]
[indent][list]
[*] When out on AEGIS duties, she dressed in costume to keep her identity concealed. All they really needed was a mask, but Emerson thought she'd look cooler with a compete outfit.
[/list]
[/indent]