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8 yrs ago
Current king in the north!
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9 yrs ago
hell yeah, sansa
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9 yrs ago
damn it, bran.
9 yrs ago
omfg. spiderman.
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9 yrs ago
Freaking out over the CA: Civil War trailer.
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hi! :3

Checking in, too! :D Hoping to get a post up sometime tomorrow.

@Midori Hope things work out for you!
@hoppiholla391 I posted a couple days ago, if that helps. ;p






Emerson raised her middle finger to her lips and blew Tobi a kiss in return. Her lips quirked up into a smile; seemed like he hadn't changed at all since they last saw each other. For better or for worse, she was sort of glad there were so many familiar faces among the fifty or so of them that crash-landed in this planet. Made things more fun, first of all. A group of screwed up delinquents left to their own devices as they explore an unknown planet? She'd watch the hell out of that show. And second, she didn't think any of them deserved to rot in that hellhole anyway.

Not even fucking Athena.

"Nah, I have a better idea." As much as she wanted to bother Charlie and Val, she didn't feel like stepping foot in that ship again. So instead she waved her hand and shooed Tobi away. "I'll see you later with my food."

Right next to her, Ryker was being his usual dorky self (times five because this was Genevieve). He heaved a sigh of relief upon hearing she was unhurt, only to quickly suck in his breath in surprise after he was pulled forward into a brief hug. He'll have you know, he gives the best hugs, but the recipients have only ever been his family, children, or the elderly. Genevieve had her arms around him for probably less than a second, but even then, he was so certain he had frozen completely.

A nervous chuckle bubbled out of his throat despite his attempts to quell it. "No, I-- uh, yeah-- I mean, I understand." He nudged Emerson with his foot when he heard her snorting at his sorry attempt at talking. Her teasing spurred his bruised ego to do better, though. Ryker smiled coyly, and this time he was able to form a coherent sentence. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"Hey, if fucking Athena goes near you again, call me, 'kay? I'll tell her to play with me instead~" Emerson flashed her a mischievous grin. Raising a hand to her forehead in a playful salute, she sauntered away after spotting Charlie and Val's little group of followers emerging from the ship.

Ryker called for her to be careful before turning back to Genevieve. "S-so what do you think we should do? I remember that voice, that person over the intercom. J, right? Didn't he say to go north? Maybe we—"

"I'm going to stay here. Get things organized, try and keep people together for now, get a better idea of what we have. You're welcome to help if you don't want to head out with them."

His heart sank. Although he shared her sentiments, there was no way his cousin would stay put and that meant he couldn't, either. And as much as he would have loved for her to accompany them, he had no right to persuade her to come. Especially since there was no way of knowing where it would be safer.

"I don't want to leave you here alone, but I, uh, Emmy's not going to want to stay. If we find shelter along the way, would you… would you come then? I'll run back and get you as fast as I can."

While Ryker chatted with his first ever doomed love, Emerson intercepted Charlie and Val's group. The first one to come out of the ship was a boy nearly two heads taller than her and slung on either of his shoulders were two different backpack straps. From the way it bulged, both looked perfectly stocked. Jackpot! Emerson blocked him right at the entrance and smiled up sweetly, her hands trailing along the length of his arm as he regarded her with a mix of confusion and giddiness.

"Thanks for this," she stood on her tiptoes, stretching up to give him a quick peck on the cheek. Then she yanked both straps down until the backpack tumbled into her arms. "You're totally my hero."

Emerson scampered away just as the boy came to his senses, hands balling in angry fists and upper lip raised in a snarl. He would have easily gotten hold of her if it hadn't been for the huge distraction that came swooping down (and the bedlam that followed).

A massive purple cloud that filled the horizon dispersed and turned into a cluster of colorful fluffballs instead, zooming past them frantically. They left as abruptly as they arrived, and in their wake was a deep roar that pierced the air. One blue and purple straggler flew directly at her in its haste, sending her sprawling to the ground just as it started to tremble ominously.

Everyone started running then, past her and away from the source of the sound. Only stupid Ryker didn't seem to get the message. He ran back to help her up, then ran toward the ship, toward the scary roaring sound. Because he was an idiot.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Genevieve! I went to look for you when the purple birds came and now I don't know where she is. She said she was going to stay. I thought she might have gone to the ship to get supplies and—"

"I didn't see her there." Emerson tugged at his arm and used all her might to pull him along. The trembling was getting stronger and they need to get the fuck out. "Get over yourself. Gen doesn't need you to save her. She's ridiculously smart and she probably ran off before everyone else did. Now, come on! I'll knock you out and drag you if I have to."

Only then did Ryker relent. The two of them sprinted away before they could glimpse the source of the roar, trailing after the last of the delinquents.
@NarcissisticPotato Oops, sorry if I didn't make it clear! She was talking to Tobi, actually. Emerson would be referring to Athena as 'fucking Athena' for a while 'cause she threatened their friend. ;p





Emerson thought color best represented the moments that made up her life.

The nine months she spent in jail was a dull gray with arbitrary specks of magenta that appeared when one of her fellow juvies wreaked some havoc within the prison cells. Such occurrences were rare, but definitely worth the wait. Getting enigmatic J's message was an exciting spike of cyan, bright and vibrant and full of possibilities. C'est la vie, J said. Emerson had no idea what that meant, but she knew then that she was going to say bye-bye to her prison cell.

She remembered the moments right after boarding the ship and right before being lulled into a deep sleep as a gentle blue, like how the sky was illustrated in Ryker's boring history books. It was soothing but somehow sad, and the dreams that followed left a bittersweet taste in her mouth. Maybe because she didn't get to say goodbye.

The blue was fleeting, though. She woke up after what seemed like an eternity crammed in a couple of hours and suddenly, there was green. Green of every shade, green that she never thought existed, green that told her she was no longer a prisoner.

Emerson wanted to cry, but she celebrated instead. Pleasantface McAbs over there started letting loose and what better way was there to revel in your newfound freedom? She joined him while everyone else was busy being sticks in the mud, fully intent on having the best fucking time of her life, but then she spotted a familiar tuft of black hair and shit.

Now she saw yellow. A glaringly bright warning yellow, flashing nonstop.

Begrudgingly, Emerson resigned to cutting her celebrations short. To her right and a little further away, a small group began gathering around Val and Charlie, and she didn't have to be there to know that tensions were sky high. She could hear dissention from the outspoken and judgmental murmurings from the rest. In other words, fun. Watching drama unfold would surely lift her spirits.

But before all that: she had to deal with the reason her spirits needed lifting in the first place. Emerson slinked away from Mr. Pleasant and stomped toward her stupid, stupid, fucking stupid cousin, huffing petulantly. He was smiling at her, but she didn't know why, because she sure as hell wasn't glad to see him.

"Why are you here?" she demanded, absolutely livid.

Her eyes flicked over the group caught up in drama then back to her cousin. Goody two-shoes Ryker belonged in Port Hope, with his mom and dad and his dorky friends, where he can be a teacher or a doctor or a saint or whatever. He did not belong here, wherever here was, surrounded by dozens of criminals who could easily take advantage of his goody two-shoesness.

"And how could you not tell me? You… you dick."

Like the mature young woman that she is, Emerson started picking up twigs and tiny pebbles and attacked Ryker.







"Em, cut it-- let me explain and--" Ryker shielded his face with his arm, but he stopped trying to talk her down. He knew better than anyone that there was no use, not when she was throwing a fit. Sure, it hurt a little—damn it, Emmy, can't you at least miss a couple of times?—but it didn't compare to his immense relief at reuniting with her. He let Emerson vent while he scouted the area, assessing what they can do now.

And that's when he saw it. Chaos. A girl with a gun. Genevieve (little Gen all grown up since the last time they played with her, four years ago) being threatened with it. Ryker hesitated only for a moment out of fear before he was hurtling forward, but Emerson was faster. Both of them reached her just as the gun-toting girl (fucking Athena went bonkers, muttered Emmy) finished raving about power and Genevieve burst out in anger.

Ryker approached his old friend tentatively, concern etched in his features. It didn't seem like she needed any help at all, but he still wanted to make sure she wasn't hurt.

"G-Genevieve?" Ryker wasn't sure if she still recognized him—four years was a long time. "Are you alright?"

Beside him, Emerson had made herself comfortable, sitting cross-legged on the ground. It seemed she was enjoying the tiffs a little too much, oohing when the girl he recognized vaguely as a Katona challenged Athena. He could feel her disappointment when nothing came out of the confrontation.

"You talk too much, Val," Emerson booed the boy with platinum blonde hair this time, the one he'd notice trying to stir the others into action, though she was more affectionately teasing than derisive. "Go get the supplies and feeeed me. I feel like I haven't eaten in years—"

Emerson stopped midsentence, distracted by a blur of movement in the distance. An oddly-shaped figure, one she probably wouldn't be able to discern even if she had seen it clearly, stalked between the trees.

It moved north, disappearing along the horizon.

"Huh. Wonder what that was."
Ooh, so many posts to catch up on! Hoping to get a post up later tonight. :D







Part of him was certain this was all a dream.

Ryker stared distractedly out the glass panel encasing him, ignoring the intermittent hammering that arose from different areas of the ship. He wanted to make sense of what was happening, but the only sound conclusion he reached was this was all a dream. The events of the past two days swirled in his head, jumbled and hazy and very likely all made up. After all, he was Richard Kennedy—dullest boy on the station, according to his cousin. There was no way he could have been incarcerated. No way he would have done anything that would only end up breaking his mother's heart. No way he would have been roped along into boarding an unauthorized ship.

And yet, here he was. Confined within glass walls, surrounded by fellow delinquents, on the ship going god knows where. Ryker bit down on his lip until the skin cracked and he tasted blood. This wasn't a dream, but he wished it was.

After minutes of only pounding noises from other pods, a voice boomed from the intercom. I apologize, the voice says. Go north, the voice says.

Then they were whirling and spinning and his stomach lurched. His heart pounded against his chest, faster and faster, as though ready to leap out of it completely. For the first time, Ryker was glad he was the coward he was. Ever faint of heart, his consciousness began to slip away the moment the lights powered down, and he all but welcomed the darkness consuming his mind. Like this, he could pretend he was just going to sleep. He didn't have to be frightened of what would happen next.

Except, it wasn't death that greeted them below.

Before he passed out completely, the ship stopped thrashing and the hatches of his pod were released, jolting him back into alertness. Ryker followed the others as they slipped out of their pods, passed through a causeway, and headed toward the heavy metal door, a lump in his throat and weight in his heart. The others were eager to disembark, to see what lay beyond, but a thousand worries plagued him, preventing him from taking that final step. Unfamiliar lands, unknown atmosphere, unparalleled dangers. From where he stood, he glimpsed the wonders awaiting him outside—lush green everywhere, a welcome change from the blackness he was used to—but there were so many things that could go wrong, that he was almost certain would go wrong.

And--

"Fuck the Inquisitors."

"Fuck, yeah! We're free!"

Ryker's head snapped to the side, so fast he nearly had a whiplash. For all his histrionics about the dangers of leaving the ship, he was all but running toward the source of the familiar voice before he could stop himself. Of course Emerson would be one of them! Although he had hoped and prayed that his cousin remained safe in Port Hope, where she could wait until her rebel friends broke her out of prison, he was glad his prayers had been left unheeded. She'd always dreamed of seeing land like this, of finding bigger grounds to explore.

And, selfishly, he was grateful to no longer be alone.

Emerson was cheering on one of the more keyed up delinquents—the one who had just stripped off his shirt and let it burn on the ground (because getting rid of what little possession you had in this land wasn't foolish at all)—when Ryker found her. Relief washed over him to see her completely unaffected and unharmed. Like always, she seemed to be taking things in stride. Her boisterous laughter pealed through the air as she recklessly hopped onto the boy's back, legs hooking around his waist for balance. She was singing a song about freedom at the top of her lungs, and from the way she grabbed fistfuls of her shirt, it was clear she was about to follow the delinquent boy's suit and make a kindling out of her shirt.

But then her eyes happened to sweep over where he stood, and she froze on the spot, all color drained from her face.

Ryker swallowed nervously. Oh, crap. Emerson didn't know he was thrown in prison, did she?
@NarcissisticPotato Thanks! :D It definitely has its downsides (Em's particularly prone to sensory overload and distraction, for example), and I'll be sure to show it.

now gimme my stickers ;p

btw, have you guys talked about cellmates yet?




“I run. I kick. I punch. I listen. I write. I give. I live.
Stars above, I live.”

– HEATHER LYONS

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.









Basic Information

N A M E
Emerson Penelope Knox

N I C K N A M E
Em, Emmy - People who like her.
Knox - People who don't like her.
Penelope - People who want her to hate them.
Fuck! - People who were chasing her but can't find her anymore.

B I R T H D A T E
April 3

G E N D E R
Female

A G E
16

S E X U A L I T Y
Bisexual










Imprisonment

C R I M E
Treason, theft, arms trafficking

Y E A R S S P E N T
Seven months

P R I S O N E L E C T I V E
Helping draft schematics for biotechs or blueprints for the station

C E L L M A T E
tbd










Education & Skills

O C C U P A T I O N
Her parents are researchers, probably. They always have those lab coats on. Also, they're full-time Inquisitor suck-ups.

C L A S S E S
  • Physics
  • Engineering
  • Art
  • History
  • Calculus
  • English

S K I L L S
Spatial and visual acuity. 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:
  • 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.










Mannerisms

L I K E S
  • 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

D I S L I K E S
  • 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

H A B I T S
  • 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

H O B B I E S
  • Chess
  • Drawing
  • Collecting shiny trinkets she comes across when exploring

F E A R S
  • 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










Delving Deeper

P E R S O N A L I T Y
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.

H I S T O R Y
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 Ryker's 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.

T H E M E S O N G
Icarus – Bastille
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










E X T R A I N F O
  • 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.
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