CHARACTER INFORMATION
face claim: Natalia Dyer
full name: Aurora Hawthorne
nickname(s) / goes by: Rory
pronouns & gender: She/her & Cis woman
sexuality: Pansexual
birth date: April 14th, 1995.
birth place: North Carolina
arrival to merrock: 2020
housing: The Suburbs
occupation: Receptionist/Assistant
work place: Bardales Inc.
family: Mom (alive), Dad (deceased)
relationship status: Single
pet(s): Toto
roommates: 1 (wanted connection to be made)
PERSONALITY
Rory is quietly observant, the kind of person who listens more than she speaks and remembers the small details others forget. She carries herself with an easy, grounded calm, preferring steadiness over attention, though there’s a restlessness beneath it that shows in the way she takes the long way home or says yes to things on impulse. She’s gentle without being fragile, practical but not closed-off, and has a habit of putting herself in the background even when she wants more. She's the kind of friend that will be there for you no matter what, but she has a terrible habit of bottling her own struggles up.
BACKGROUND / BIO
mentions of parental lose & death
Aurora Hawthorne has always been good at fitting herself into the spaces that need her. It started young, back when usefulness felt like a kind of safety net—something she could rely on when the ground felt uneven. She grew up in North Carolina in a house that never quite stayed still, held together by routine, quiet effort, and the steady presence of her father. Her mom juggled two jobs and her father was on the road more than at home. One a part-time waitress and CNA, the other a musician an a fairly decent band. Her father was the one who taught her how to hold a guitar properly, how to tune it by ear, how to play the same few songs over and over until muscle memory took over. When he passed, the guitar was packed away. She hasn't played it in ten years, though occasionally does take it out to clean and care for it.
If life had played out differently, Aurora would've perused a career in music like her father. But she dived into work the moment she found a job that stuck after high school, along with her studies. She became the person her mother leaned on most of all, and for a while, that was okay with Rory. Eventually her mother didn't need her either anymore and Aurora needed to find her place in this world. She came to Merrock in 2020 without much ceremony. No grand plan, no long list of expectations. Just the sense that she needed somewhere smaller, somewhere that didn’t demand too much of her all at once. The suburbs suited her well enough, especially once she adopted Toto, who quickly became part companion, part excuse to explore.
At Bardales Inc., Rory works as a receptionist and assistant, a role she slides into with practiced ease. She’s attentive without being intrusive, reliable without being rigid. She remembers names, birthdays, preferences, the unspoken rhythms of the office. It’s work that keeps her grounded, even if it sometimes feels like she’s standing just slightly offstage, watching things unfold. Being in the background has always felt safer than stepping into the light. Even though she's found a little place for herself in Merrock, Rory doesn’t know yet whether Merrock is permanent. Some nights, she sits on the porch with Toto at her feet and thinks about the guitar still tucked away in a closet, the places she hasn’t been yet, the versions of herself she hasn’t quite met. For now, she shows up, does her job well, and lets the days unfold as they will—quietly curious about what might happen if she ever stops holding herself back.
CONNECTIONS:
• Bardales Inc. — Familiar Face(s)
Someone (or a grou of people) who works at Bardales Inc. and interacts with Rory regularly. Maybe they’re the person who trained her when she first started, or the one who relies on her more than they admit. They’ve shared quiet conversations between calls, late afternoons when the office feels too still, or inside jokes that make the workday lighter. There’s comfort here—easy, unforced, a little balance for them both in their work place.
• The One Who Knows the Back Roads
A local (or longtime resident) who’s crossed paths with Rory during walks with Toto or while she’s wandering off the beaten path. They might exchange nods, small talk, or end up walking together more often than expected. This connection would've been very organic and unplanned, rooted in shared silence and a mutual appreciation for taking the long way around. Nature lover, dog owner, or simply two souls who just enjoy each other's company while on a walk.
• Almost, Not Quite
An ex, a short-lived fling, or someone she nearly let herself get serious with after moving to Merrock. Things ended gently, without drama, but there’s unfinished emotional business—things unsaid, feelings that never fully settled. Running into each other now carries a mix of familiarity and hesitation, the kind that lingers long after the interaction ends. Perhaps they talk things through and attempt the friendship thing, maybe their awkwardness is just a part of them co-existing in the same place.
• Late-Night Listener
Someone who stumbled into Rory’s life during a moment of quiet vulnerability—maybe a neighbor, a coworker, or a friend of a friend. They’ve had one or two unexpectedly deep conversations, the kind that happen late at night when defenses are down. There’s trust here, even if it hasn’t been named yet.
• The One Who Asks “Why Not?”
A person who gently challenges Rory’s habit of staying in the background. They invite her places she wouldn’t think to go on her own, encourage spontaneity, or nudge her toward experiences she’s been quietly curious about. This person doesn’t push too hard—just opens doors and waits to see if she’ll step through.
• Shared Space, Quiet Understanding
Rory’s roommate, someone who’s learned her habits just by living alongside her—the way she pads around the kitchen in socks, talks to Toto like he’s a person, or leaves mugs half-finished on the counter. They don’t need constant conversation to coexist comfortably; silence is easy here. They’ve likely shared low-energy nights on the couch, casual debriefs after long days, and the kind of trust that comes from shared routines. This connection could lean purely platonic, found-family, or blur into something more complicated depending on how close living together has made them.
