The Worlds in which we create

information

face claim: Ayo Edebiri

full name: Anderson Diahann Hughes

nickname(s) / goes by: Andie

pronouns & gender: She/Her, Cis Woman

sexuality: Lezbean/Homosexual

birth date: October 3, 1995

birth place: Merrock, Maine

arrival to merrock: Local to Merrock

housing: Lives with Darrius Powell, Aisha Thevar, and Tamika Morris in a coastal house near the beach.

occupation: Co-owner of Geeky Goods Galore

work place: Geeky Goods Galore

family: Grandparents (close), estranged father

relationship status: Single

personality

Andie is a warm-hearted, quirky nerd with a strong creative streak and a love for all things geek culture. She’s funny (sometimes unintentionally), loyal to a fault, and deeply passionate about the things she loves, from comics and manga to D&D campaigns and fantasy novels. Beneath her bubbly exterior, she struggles with anxiety and self-doubt, especially around big life decisions or confrontation. Still, she always tries her best and thrives when she’s creating or surrounded by her chosen community.

portrayed by Ayo Edebiri; penned by Kia.

Waving it off as she said that she didn't need anything, and he didn't have to bring anything over, he knew that it was true. But he liked to treat his friends. "You'd do the same for me… which is just me throwing ideas out there, obviously, not saying you have to." That made him grin, because he wouldn't say no if his friends brought him treats, but he definitely didn't expect it, either. "Yeah, yeah," he laughed, shaking his head, "I have a feeling that you'd have a hard time talking him into that one, and where Che goes, so goes my nation when it comes to the game play."

"The papers, though… thankfully, I only have a few more finals to grade and then I'm officially done for the school year," which was a relief. It had felt like a long one, but he said that at the end of every school year, really. "And then it'll be a summer full of nerding out at the historical society. Got any big summer plans for yourself, yet?"

She popped the piece into her mouth, chewed happily, then pointed at Darrius with mock accusation. “And you could absolutely cause an inconvenience. You just do it with that chill professor energy so people don’t realize until later that you somehow talked them into grading their own paper.”

At his comment about her doing the same, she softened a bit, nudging him with her foot under the counter. “Obviously I would. But now that you’ve said it out loud, I’m definitely going to go too hard and show up next week with a full charcuterie board for no reason.”

She leaned back on the stool, sipping from a half-finished iced coffee like it had seen things. “I mean, yeah, convincing Che to leave a campaign is like trying to pry a dice set out of a dragon’s hoard, so fair. But tell him I’m not giving up. The cat café waits.”

At the mention of the end of the school year, she grinned. “Finals season is brutal. I’m glad you're almost on the other side. And nerding out at the historical society sounds weirdly peaceful? Like you’ll spend your days surrounded by old documents and haunted vibes. I respect that.”

She twirled her straw absently. “As for me? No big summer plans yet. Probably just running the shop, sketching between customers, and maybe finally building that D&D terrain set I impulse-bought and never opened. You know, classic girl summer.”

She tilted her head at him. “If you end up needing a break from historical hauntings and parchment dust, the shop always has an extra stool, and I’ve been dying to rewatch The Mummy with someone who’ll appreciate the Brendan Fraser of it all.”

She offered a sheepish smile and took a step back from the shelf like it had personally offended her. “Thanks for checking, though. I feel like I should start handing out liability waivers when people walk in... danger level: low, but emotionally chaotic.”

At Jayla’s mention of browsing, Andie perked up. “Well, you’ve landed in the right place for aimless wandering and accidental obsessions. We’ve got comics, dice, board games, and an entire wall of stickers that have ruined many a budget.”

She tilted her head playfully. “Anything you’re lowkey into? I give really enthusiastic recommendations even when no one asks.”

Looking around the aisles, she noticed someone leaning down and talking. Talking to a shelf? And she couldn't help but chuckle, folding her arms as she watched the other. "No judgement here," she said to the other before nodding, "though if they answer back then I'd start to worry."

Looking around, "just looking for some batman stuff for my kid," not really knowing where to start. "He's only five so I think comics are probably not a good idea."

She dusted off her hands like she’d just done something heroic, then straightened up with a warm smile. “Batman stuff? Oh, you’re in luck, we’ve got a whole mini-Gotham back in aisle two. Action figures, plushies, a Batmobile-shaped pencil case that might double as a snack holder if you’re brave.”

She gestured toward the back corner with a friendly wave of her hand. “And yeah, comics for a five-year-old can be tricky, some of them go from ‘pow!’ to ‘existential crisis’ real quick. But we’ve got a couple of board books, some kid-safe illustrated ones, and a very dramatic Batman coloring book where every page looks like he’s brooding under rain. It’s kind of a masterpiece.”

Andie paused, tilting her head. “What’s his Bat-preference? Classic blue-and-gray? Lego Batman? The tiny angry one from the cartoons who always sounds like he needs a nap?”

"I love sitting out here on the rocks with blankets under the stars listening to the water." She replied. "It's cheaper than paying for a therapist. Don't tell my therapist I said that." She chuckled. "I'm Beth. No, come sit; sounds like you were coming up here to do the same thing, so let's do it together." She mentioned.

"I would very much love the company."

She opened her bag and pulled out the trail mix, making a face at the half-melted chocolate chips. “This was supposed to be my ‘reflect on your life under the stars’ snack, but I’m pretty sure it’s just become a granola blob with raisins in it.”

At Beth’s therapist comment, Andie laughed, eyes wide with mock scandal. “Your secret is safe with me. Though I will probably tell the stars. They seem trustworthy. Vibes are very ‘non-judgmental night sky’ tonight.”

She offered a peanut like it was a diplomatic gesture. “I was going to watch an old cooking competition and overthink the fact that I still don’t know how to cook rice properly—but honestly? Sitting out here and failing to identify constellations with a stranger-turned-rock-buddy sounds infinitely better.”

Andie leaned back on her hands, staring up at the sky. “So, Beth... do you want to point out some real constellations, or should I start making up ones? Because I’m already seeing what I swear is a suspiciously frog-shaped Big Dipper.”

She grinned, then relaxed her posture, tucking her hands into her hoodie pockets. “But no worries, we’re a judgment-free zone here... except maybe from the plush Jabba the Hutt. He’s always judging.”

At the mention of card games, her eyes lit up. “Now that I can help with. We’ve got everything from fast-paced stuff like Unstable Unicorns and Exploding Kittens, to chill strategy like Love Letter or Sushi Go. And if you’re into nostalgic vibes, I might still have a few unopened packs of vintage Pokémon cards in the back.”

She motioned toward a shelf labeled “Card Corner” with a cardboard dragon guarding it. “Anything in particular you’re looking for? Party game? Two-player? Something to test friendships and/or end them?”

She took another long sip, savoring it like it was the ambrosia of productivity, then grinned. “Dice demon is... alarmingly accurate, actually. She lives in the back room. Only comes out when shipments are late or someone knocks over the D20 beanbag.”

Andie turned toward the back of the store and wiggled her fingers like she was casting a spell. “To the TV wall! Where British comedians roast each other for points that don’t matter and chaos reigns supreme.”

As she walked, she reached behind the register and held up a sticker sheet. “Okay, serious question: sparkly Baby Yoda or existential Garfield? One offers peace and wisdom. The other judges you for existing.”

She shot a grin over her shoulder. “Indecisive sticker collectors welcome. We’ve got commitment issues in stock too, aisle four.”

She stepped away from the board game wall, rubbing the red spot on her forehead with mock drama. “Honestly, books and toys are both excellent listeners, so I completely get it. You haven’t really bonded with literature until you’ve begged a cursed tome not to fall off a shelf.”

At the mention of structured tabletop games, her eyes widened with interest. “Okay, so if you want something with clear rules and minimal chaos gremlins, I’ve got a few go-tos.”

She turned and motioned toward one of the middle display tables. “Wingspan is gorgeous and strategy-heavy without being overwhelming; you’re building a bird sanctuary, and it’s weirdly addictive. Azul is this tile-laying game that’s very structured and also makes you feel like you’re redecorating a very aesthetic palace. And if you want something myth-adjacent? Santorini has Greek gods and building, little cities on cliffs. It's simple but sneaky.”

Andie grinned. “I’m just saying, if you grew up with Greek myths, we might have a Persephone expansion pack with your name on it.”

She paused, head tilting slightly. “What kind of obscure are we talking, though? Like, ‘I know one person who liked this Tumblr post in 2012’ obscure, or ‘this was made in Belgium and no one knows how it got here’ obscure?”

She glanced at the glittery dice in Rory’s hand and gave a knowing smirk. “Ah yes, the sparkle trap. That’s how it starts. You think, ‘I’ll just get a cute set for decoration,’ and next thing you know, you own seven sets, a dice tray, and you’ve developed opinions about elven linguistics.”

When Rory asked about the meetup, Andie perked up like someone had just asked her to share her Spotify Wrapped. “Yes! Totally beginner-friendly. Like, aggressively so. We’ve got pre-made character sheets, a patient DM, and snacks that are sometimes loosely themed but always excessive.”

She motioned toward the sign-up board near the D20 beanbag. “It’s Thursdays at six, but even if you just want to spectate first, you’re welcome. We have one guy who comes just to doodle people’s characters. And if you do end up playing, I will personally ensure you get the shiniest dice for maximum crow energy.”

Andie offered a soft grin. “No pressure, but it’s a great excuse to have some silly fun.”

She popped the straw into the cup with practiced precision, already sipping before the plastic had fully settled. “Ugh. Yes. This is the fuel I needed to survive Frodo’s betrayal and inventory restock day.”

Her eyes sparkled as she looked back at Aisha. “Also, girl boss? Please. I’m over here running a kingdom of cardboard boxes and dice goblins. But thank you for the delusion”

She gestured toward the back. “Wanna hang for a bit? I can put on the new episode of ‘Taskmaster’ on the TV wall. I’ll trade you one Baby Yoda sticker and a cursed novelty keychain for the beverage.”

“Listen, I’m not here to judge your friends,” Sunny said lifting her hands, laughing as she took in the sight of an employee talking to a vinyl figurine. She couldn’t honestly judge anyone since she spent plenty of time talking to inanimate objects herself. It was just something people did. “I should probably ask if you’re okay. I mean, the head smack could definitely result in an ER visit. I can be your witness if you’re needing to file workers comp for you assault by Frodo.”

She snickered to herself at the thought of it but she’d definitely seen people try dumber things. She felt like a lawsuit like that was sure to put someone in the news. She let her eyes drift through the shelves looking for a particular geeky fandom of choice. “I’m actually looking for something Star Wars. I have a coworker who has a birthday coming up and he’s obsessed. Like I’m pretty sure his cat is named Jabba.”

She grinned, brushing her bangs out of her face with dramatic flair. “Besides, it was mostly my own fault. I should have been more careful with the precious hobbit in the first place”

Her gaze flicked toward Sunny’s expression, and she softened with a laugh. “Okay, but if this ends in a dramatic courtroom retelling titled ‘The Fellowship of the Concussion’, you better sit in the front row.”

As Sunny mentioned Star Wars, Andie perked up like a droid hearing its activation word. “You’re in luck! We’ve got an entire galaxy just two aisles over. Action figures, mugs, plush Baby Yodas, and—oh!—a R2-D2 popcorn bucket that lights up and makes sounds. It’s weirdly charming.”

She took a few steps and motioned for Sunny to follow. “And I kind of love that his cat is named Jabba. Please tell me it’s a chonky tabby with attitude?”

"Nah," he waved off the comment about the D&D meet-up, "you know Chetan drags me out to his, I just play along," which was true. He might not have understood the game when he started it, but now it was as normal a part of his routine as band practice, date night with Noa, and grading papers. But that day, he figured that he would just be nice when he popped into the little shop, a paper bag in hand as he sat it down on the counter.

"I stopped by Cherry Amour to try some of their new spring stuff," who didn't love baked goods, after all? Bonus points when you were good friends with the owner's boyfriend. "Figured I'd drop by and bug my roomie but offer some sweets in the process."

She plucked the bag off the counter with the reverence of someone handling a holy artifact. “Please tell me there’s a cookie dough croissant. I’ve been manifesting it ever since I saw it on a random YouTube video.”

Looking back at Darrius, her grin softened. “You didn’t have to bring anything, you know. I’m always down to be bugged. Especially by my most rad pals with good taste in snacks.”

She hopped up onto a stool behind the counter and nudged over the D&D sign-up sheet with her elbow. “I’ll try not to guilt you into staying, but if you happen to want to avoid grading essays or whatever deeply academic thing you’re procrastinating on today, the dice are calling. Probably in Elvish.”

She gave him a playful look, tearing open the bag. “Also, tell Chetan if he ever decides to switch campaigns, I have this post-apocalyptic cat café homebrew I’ve been dying to test.”

“I believe you,” he said with a lopsided grin, and took another glance around. At the sound of the D&D meetup, his ears perked up a bit. “I haven’t played in a while,” Vince said with a chuckle. “But I am here looking for a gift for someone,” he said.

He rubbed his hands together. “So maybe I’ll have to see what you have in terms of dice,” he said, pulling out his phone to look at the texts in his messages. “I’ve got a sort of pseudo-nephew who wants this for his birthday,” he said, holding up a picture of the extension pack that the 11-year old requested.

She motioned for Vince to follow her toward a brightly labeled DICE & EXPANSIONS section, cluttered but charming in its chaos. “You haven’t played in a while?” she repeated, eyebrows raised. “Well, first off... welcome home. And second, I’m pretty sure your pseudo-nephew has excellent taste. Also pretty lucky to have a cool uncle.”

She leaned over to look at the photo on his phone. “Ooooh, that’s the Mystic Caverns Expansion! We just restocked those. People were getting weirdly aggressive about the last one. Like, elbow-in-the-ribs aggressive. It was a whole thing.” She shook her head with mock solemnity and added, “The tabletop crowd may be polite, but they are fierce when limited edition dice are involved.”

She turned, crouched by a display, and pulled out the pack with a little flourish. “Got it! And if you want to earn bonus cool-uncle points, I’ve got a set of glow-in-the-dark dice that go perfectly with this theme. Plus, they look rad under blacklight.”

She stood, holding up the pack and the dice. “Gift wrap? Dramatic fantasy-themed gift bag? Or do we go full ‘mysterious scroll’ aesthetic and confuse the poor kid?”

“I didn’t realize anyone else would be out here. I come up sometimes to… dramatically stare at the ocean and question my life choices. You know, real main character stuff.” She gave a short laugh and moved a bit closer into the moonlight, sheepish.

“I’m Andie. Anyway, I can leave you to your moment if this is, like, a deep thinking place. Or if you’re trying to have a heart-to-heart with the stars or something. I totally get it.”

She lingered a second, not wanting to intrude, but clearly hoping she hadn’t interrupted anything too serious. “But, uh, if you’re okay with quiet company... I brought snacks and a questionable knowledge of constellations.”