Name: Juno Hope Cannon (People don't know her real name, they usually call her Skye or Skylar)
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Persona: Rude, smart-ass, kind of a bitch (lol)
Extras: Has a slight British twang to her voice, married to Zach (Sammy's OC), Roman goddess of fire and storms, has five siblings, she's the second oldest, Angel/demon (depends on her mood)
Backstory: (Her POV)
It was an extremely cold night in the skies. It seemed like every two seconds I would shiver.. I was five at the time. Weak. Stubborn. Useless. I couldn't defend myself.. I saw a dark shadow in the corner of my (small) room. I stood to investigate.. It wasn't a shadow. It was a demon. I tried speaking to it, conversing with it. It wasn't very friendly, no, no.. It was anything but friendly. That was the night it killed me. But three years later, I woke up in a cellar. It was dark, cold, frightening. I was dehydrated, had scars all over. Nobody could hear me scream or yell for help. The air was stale, difficult to breathe in. When I opened my mouth to scram, I could understand why they couldn't hear me. Why my father couldn't hear me. Why my mother couldn't hear me. Why my God-awful sister couldn't hear me. Because I was suffocating. The air wasn't normal. I was taking in air perfectly fine, but the problem was what I was taking in. I felt my eyes tear up, my lungs about to burst. I managed to crawl to a thin slit of light and saw a large metal door. I managed to push it open and escape the cellar. But after leaving that room I had a sudden urge to.. Murder. A sudden urge to murder. The nearest person was my mother. I don't remember anything after that, it was all a blur. But what I do remember.. My hands, covered in blood. Tightly holding a meat cleaver in my right hand, my mother's body scattered across the room. Jenevive, my older sister, watching it all.. Smiling.. Chuckling.. This was her fault..
(End of Skye's Backstory)
