There is a wistful quality to every aspect of her being. Knave has one of those faces that looks simultaneously too young and too old. Her coat isn't the pale white of lilies or the pale gold of a sunrise, but something in between. Across her shoulders is a smudge of black.

At times conceited, headstrong, reckless, and withdrawn. Doubt plays a strong role for Knave's mental make-up; she fights against doubts with facts and shields herself with them, which makes the acquisition of new concepts somewhat difficult for her. She dislikes being a cog in the machine while understanding the importance of individuals working to better a whole. Loves deeply, yet privately, and attaches herself to others and their pursuits in order to give herself purpose (whether or not she believes in the ideals of her superiors).