Red Rust
Name: Rochelle Auclair
Alias: Rachel
Occupation(s): Unemployed
Abilities/Skills: Clever, well-read/knowledgeable, tenacious, resilient
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Overview (brief summary):
Rachel grew up a happy child in an affluent London neighborhood on the north side of Hyde Park. Her parents were loving and long days were spent in the park with her older sister Lucy and an orange tabby named Mina. She was an avid reader and frequent day-dreamer, often lying in the soft grass at edge of a small creek flowing through the park and staring up at the clouds imagining them to be the most fantastic of things. Her sister loved to read as well and the pair spent lazy afternoons at the creek bank, her sister reading both fiction and non aloud. Life was perfect.
In the early morning hours of Rachel's eleventh year, the tranquil bliss of childhood was shattered when, for reasons that remain unknown to all but Rachel's subconscious, the car carrying the Auclair ladies home from a weekend excursion to the countryside veered off the road and slammed into a rocky embankment below. As if to ensure all lives would be claimed in the wreckage, flames erupted, whipped into a fury by leaking fuel. Where the force of impact had be sufficient to claim her mother and sister, Rachel had merely lost consciousness. Shaken but unharmed, Mina frantically tried to catch the girl's attention. Pawing at her proved futile, so the feline resorted to swishing its fluffy tail across her nose to tickle the girl to consciousness. When she awoke, the blaze was already consuming the front seat and the confined interior was filled with a choking cloud of smoke and ash. Mina leaped from her arms and tapped at the window. Taking the feline's meaning, Rachel lowered it allowing both to pass through it to escape the inferno. She sat motionless and just watched, tears streaming down her cheeks, as the flames roared.
Since that morning, Rachel has wandered through a surreal mindscape of her own imagination as she straddles two worlds, neither of which is safe. Initially, the imaginary world in her psyche dominated and, to all others, made her appear unresponsive to the point of catatonia. While she improved over time, that journey saw her endure the harsh trials of a nightmarish reality, aided by her only friends - dolls, created by her mother and who'd miraculously come to life to aid her. She loved them. Over the years, her condition improved to the point where her therapists felt confident she could forge a new life for herself outside of supervision. For a time, they were right but, eventually, her "Wonderland" began to seep back, subtly at first but progressed to where she was again institutionalized.
Descriptive Physical Appearance:
A waifish girl in her early twenties, Rachel is tall and thin with delicate features and mossy green eyes. Raven black hair flows in long, straight, silky sheets well past her shoulders. With few options for style, her mainstay is an old blue dress that may have once fit the girl, but the hem has since found its way mid-thigh. Were she to possess a more womanly figure, the top portion might not fit at all, but her lack thereof merely leaves it snug. Standing in juxtaposition to the otherwise girlish appearance, are knee-high black boots laced from ankle to knee. Despite the relatively constant preference for the familiar dress, Rachel's wardrobe is quite eclectic, and she occasionally favors a more bohemian style that emphasizes color, texture, and diversity.
Personality:
Unpredictable would be the defining word for Rachel's moods, as they have little to no bearing on reality and are frequently inappropriate. Her reality, however, differs substantially from that of those around her and dictates her behavior in perfectly logical ways, such that the two are only in synch by chance. Regardless, she's typically sweet and seemingly innocent, often behaving as might be expected from a girl of ten or twelve, though that tends to shift as her mind floats between realities past and present. Because of her generally pleasant disposition, she tends to be well-liked among those not put off by her otherwise odd behavior; however, that is a rare few, and nearly all afflicted by mental conditions of their own. Less frequently, she appears empty and morose as if overcome by some great, all-encompassing darkness that's stripped the life from within her. More recently, she's started exhibiting more erratic behavior, vacillating between being flirtatious, energized, and agitated.
Weapon(s):
The girl is nothing if not resourceful, and will make do with the nearest, easily-weaponized object. In the darkest of her realities, however, a menacing wooden-handled cleaver tends to find its way into her hand.