ANA EMILY PARKER

bland. unappealing. unattractive. unobtrusive. ana cultivates her personality as the submissive, innocent perfect paradigm of the model citizen content to live inside the domes. happy-go-lucky, perhaps too cheerful and too unconcerned for her well-being. you wonder if her words drip with fake sincerity, with honeyed lies. but that can't be. why would she ever do that? 

underneath lies layer after layer of facades, the personality of a chameleon. ana knows the only way to survive is to constantly change, to become someone else. half truth after half truth after half truth. her ambition knows no bounds. she is not a fool. reason over emotion.

she knows her words are harsh, biting, but the emotion was thrown away long ago. she has no empathy for the masses, it's only for herself. underlying that is a current of anger and spite at the injustice the world has afforded her.

hate is her motivation, but it's too late to turn back now.

the memories of her early life are fuzzy. she remembers bright lights, the warmth of being held in someone's arms. running through rooms. falling over. getting back up.

she remembers the screaming. the arguments that eventually would cause her mother and father to split apart. 

she is forced to grow up quickly during her teenage years. this time, ana remembers the screaming more vividly, but it's not from her mother: it's from her. argument after argument. she wants to join the military, to follow in her father's footsteps. the last words. "I HATE YOU. WHY CAN'T I MAKE MY OWN DECISIONS?"

the last time she sees him is with a sad smile on his face, walking out of the dome. ana waits, but when her father doesn't come back, she cries. 

"your father died for the people."
"you poor, poor dear. i bet you miss him so."
"he was a man to look after."

the attention fades, and capt. elijah parker is soon forgotten. the moment is set firmly in her mind. people lie. they look at you and pretend. they are not to be trusted.

her suspicions are only confirmed when in the coming months, her father's military friends disappear one by one, leaving her to fend for herself.

ana disappears like a ghost on the wind, and when she comes back, no one remembers her. they remember her as the friendly neighborhood florist. 

"florist? what kind of job is growing flowers?"

they shake their heads. what they don't know is that she's built herself on a tower of lies. she knows the domes like the back of her hand. they don't know that she is out there helping outsiders if only to spite the system that raised her. florist by day, smuggler by night. who would've thought?

nobody suspects the daughter of a dead military man to be anything more dangerous than that. 

[b]NINETEEN TWENTY--ONE[/b] yun-lee | ana emily parker PLAYED BY TEN