Build a Bear ☼ | Group RP

AUDREY LOVELL DEMON.

"And you, Audrey?" Jane asks, looking toward the young woman who was sat in her chair, acting as if she didn't have a single care in the world - although she did, but hey, who had to know? Audrey turned her head towards the rest of the group, having missed the last few people due to her neurotic daydreams.

"Hi," she started with a small smile, blinking away her black eyes, trying not to scare anyone at the first meeting. "My name's Audrey, and during World War II, I traded my soul for my Dad's life." She spoke slow, curtly, making sure everyone paid attention to her, and her only. After all, she was worthy of respect, despite having been told multiple times that demons were, and she could quote it off by heart, 'scum of the Earth'.

"I was tortured for years, my God, you couldn't imagine the pain..." She trailed off, her grin growing wider.

"But now, I'm just your regular crossroads demon." She shrugged, looking back at Jane. "I guess I've made a few deals of my own, plus I'm the King's favourite." She gushed.

Jane nodded, looking to the next person as Audrey went back to her moody exterior, crossing her arms over her chest, a small smirk crossing across her face.

ORION TURNER - WARLOCK

Orion barely registered what other people were saying, that is, until it came time for Audrey to talk. He listened to her words closely as he realized she was a demon. An actual demon. His aunt had told him demons and warlocks were notorious for getting along, but he hadn't believed her. Now that he was face-to-face with one, though, he wasn't sure. There was something about her that he couldn't quite put his finger on. It was as if she yearned to be heard, and wouldn't stop until she was. Orion wasn't sure how to feel about it, but he couldn't help the chewing at his stomach and nausea that followed.

He tore his eyes away from Audrey and to the floor just as Damian accidentally bumped into him and muttered a quick 'sorry'. Orion wanted to say it was fine, that there was no harm done, but he couldn't get his mouth to move. The group was only making things worse for him, he realized. All he wanted to do was get up and walk out, but he wasn't sure if he could-

"Orion," Gary began.

Son of a bitch.

"You say that your father's evil. Would you like to go more in-depth on how you feel about that?" he asked, sounding more nervous than half the people in the room did.

"Um. I feel... nauseous. I never really knew my dad, so all of this is unexpected. I thought I knew what I was doing with my life, but then all of this gets sprung on me and now I'm not so sure. All I wanted was to live a normal life and now everything is uprooted and I don't know what to do." He felt tears sting the backs of his eyes, but he refused to cry. Crying in front of everyone would be mortifying. No one else had started crying. "That's all I wanna say," he said, voice thick as a lump formed in his throat. Great. He turned his attention back to the floor and waited impatiently for someone else to speak.

ANDRASTE MITHROLITHE // TIEFLING

The group support was turning out to be more interesting than she thought. When Gabriella the werewolf had spoken, she'd almost felt a sense of familiarity. Strange, that. It was rare that Andraste found solace in other people, let alone those she barely knew, strangers. Andraste had never wanted to be the angry one, the hurricane heart, but it was hard to stay calm when slowly she had lost everything, her life unravelling from every thread until she had been left with nothing but her mother. One thread to build her entire legacy on and it was the one woman Andraste never wanted to let down. It was a sense of recognition with another person that didn't sit with Andraste entirely well, but it made this group more bearable.

Then there were the rest of them. The person 'unlucky in love', the woman on her phone with the broken apartment, the boy who'd needed coffee and didn't want to speak (understandable), then the demon who'd put on a show. During her speech, Andraste had laughed under her breath, though her laugh had always sounded like a harsh bark so she was sure someone close by had heard it.

Demons didn't particularly scare her, especially the show-offs.

Truthfully, Andraste felt sorry for most of them. She'd taken pity on many people before them, let them onto her ship to work because they couldn't find better lives on the land. So she offered the sea to them, a vast expanse of nothingness that was owned by nobody. To Andraste, the sea was freedom. For her, it was only way out after days of suffocating on land in human and other civilisation. Behind the ship's wheel, underneath the masts is where she felt most in control and being out of control was entirely out of the question.

"Andraste, how did you end up becoming a notorious pirate?"

Jane's voice cuts through the short silence after the warlock - Orion - had spoken. Andraste looked up, pulling her hands away from her lucky charm since she had a habit of toying with it. And she sighed.

"It's just what pirates do, isn't it? Search for treasure. This treasure was important, that's all. After my father had died out at sea, I yearned to find my own place too. I became a pirate, went out to sea but I was younger then, I didn't know how to mould the water to my wishes." - memories of screaming and flames on the wood came rushing back - "On a voyage, when I had no crew, more experienced pirates came across my boat. They set it alight, I lost almost everything. But the sea pushed me back to the shore." - she's only twenty two, holding her arms out in front of her face as the fire roars, a product of dark magic. She's resistant to the flames but the heat is unbearable and her boat is crumbling out beneath her-

Andraste blinks. "That's it," she says suddenly, but there's still a tide crashing in her mind. How could she have left things like that? How could she have let those pirates get away with what they had done? "I suppose you could say I'm a woman born again from the ashes."

It's what her mother had said. Only now could she almost believe it.

[skipping my turn, sorry busy weekend]