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Rochelle McKendrick

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    Roach can't wait to grow up, and it shows. She does her best to dress older, using lots of makeup, dying her hair, getting bling and hoping one day to get an actual tatooo. It doesn't work very well though. Roach's growth spurt left her skinny and gangly and she's only just starting to fill back in. She's fond of making her mouse-brown hair red these days, but it grows in fast enough there's almost always roots showing. In terms of fashion she tends towards inexpensive clothing, as she can be hard on it. T-shirts and tanktops that can easily have grease or oil washed off, and that are cheap to replace, under a sky blue windbreaker that's a little too short in the sleeves now. Roach is saving up for a cool leather jacket, but still has a ways to go. Her jeans invariably wind up being shorts in short order, as their knees don't hold out under her constant assault of crawling around to get under or behind things.

  • History

    Rochelle has always been a handful; quick to learn, quick to judge. Always testing boundaries and looking for ways to get away with things. Her dad, formerly an auto mechanic, bonded with her over their shared love of 'ripping things apart and putting them together,' starting with cars, though she quickly moved on to other devices as well. When she was ten years old, her father was in an automobile accident that left him partially paralyzed in his legs, and his right arm. Between the medical bills and the loss of income, the McKendrick family had some hard years ahead of them. Roach's mother had a job, and her father had disability to help, but they had to move to a smaller house in a cheaper location in the process.

    These tough times were when Roach really started acting out more...stressed out by the stress at home, feeling alone and neglected and resentful, Rochelle started getting into trouble with petty crimes like trespassing and shoplifting, and at school. Later on she didn't get caught, but that was more because she'd refined her techniques. To try to give her something to keep her occupied, her parents got her a secondhand computer when she went into middle school, and for a time it seemed like the plan had worked. In reality, it simply gave her a new tool. Rochelle found on the computer and online, a sort of freedom that only made reality all the more frustrating. She took to it with the same voraciousness that she had engines and springs and gears, finding online mentors and guides to help.

    By the time she started high school, Rochelle had convinced herself that she didn't need any of this. Let her dad sit around and be too glum (and injured) to come out and tinker on cars with her. Let her old friend Quinn decide horses were more interesting than her. Let her mom turn into a screechy, angry stressed out demon-lady. All these rules and controls were obstacles. Nothing that happened in Blainesville mattered because the day she hit eighteen, she was out of there. She'd get out to the coast, to Silicon Valley, wow everyone with her mad skills and then she'd die from literally choking on all her money while rolling in the pile of it she keeps in her seven car garage, full of supercars.


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