Character name: Máóhk Sun, More commonly called “Rodge”

Superhero name: Rodge?

Appearance: Rodge is a broad shouldered girl with dark skin and black eyes. She has a round face, high cheekbones dotted with a few freckles, and a large knife-like nose. She has nappy ginger hair, dye's it black. She think she her natural hair looks strange, for other-than-the-hair she takes after her native mother, and she doesn't want to draw attention to herself. She'll say she's 'curvy', but really has a few [i]more[/i] curves than a model would, as she is a bit overweight. She claims to know how to 'clean up' but rarely does, preferring her work cloths, or dirty jeans and a t-shirt. 

Costume/physical changes: None. Maybe a racing helmet?
 
Niche: Mechanic/Driver/Taxi

Power Source: No apparent powers.
Powers: No apparent powers.

Defining moment: Her best friend was killed in a car accident. Rodge, of course, worked on both cars involved, but it wasn’t the car that caused the accident, it was the whiskey on her breath and in her blood. This was the moment where Rodge lost all her faith. She began to hate and resent everything around her. This is what compelled her to leave home and seek another kind of life. 

Bio/short back story: 

Rodge was born and raised life in Montana on a Blackfoot reservation by her grandparents Her grandfather had a gift for repairing cars despite low resources. Their yard was always full of random parts and rusty cars. This was her childhood playground. Her grandmother was a kind woman and an excellent cook. She claimed to have had a spiritual ‘gift’ of some sort. Whenever Rodge asked her to prove it, Gram wound out the same old story about how she had abused the power when she was young and foolish, god took the power away as a consequence, but cursed her to have to tell everyone she met as a warning. When Rodge learned the word 'Senile' in school, she thought of her grandmother.

As she got older she helped her grandfather with cars. She was relatively happy, until her best friend died in a drunk driving accident. She began to hate home and everyone in it, everywhere she looked reminded her of the tragedy. 
 
Her grandparents were very old, and had trouble relating to her, she didn’t have many friends after that. She never felt better after the accident, and no one wanted to be around her. She lacked the resources to feel fulfilled (rusty cars only drive so far…) and decided to leave home. 
 
She applied for a technical college in Helena. She worked at a diner and a car garage to support herself while she was in school.

Earning associates degree in auto-mechanical engineering, she felt ready to take on the world. She souped up an old ford-truck and drove until she ran out of gas. She proved her skills and tried to settle down. But things never seemed to settle for Rodge. She got into an argument with her boss, and got fried. Rather than try to get a new job in the same city, she decided to start from scratch. Souped up an old beetle and drove until she ran out of gas.

She wound up in New Orleans. She got a job as a mechanic again, and met a nice boy. Ricky. This boy introduced her to street-racing (NOTE: I am not thinking that this is anything like the fast and the furious). She was better under the hood, but wasn’t bad behind the wheel, she had fun with that for awhile… Until things went sour between her and Ricky, a misunderstanding. He figured that violence was the best way to communicate his feelings, he misunderstood. Rather than try to find a new boyfriend in that city where she was fairly well established, she hit the road, looking for a fresh start. She souped up an old Chevy and… well… you get the idea. 

She bounces around the dust-bowl like a ping pong ball, never settling in one place long enough to realize her ‘full potential’. 

Insight to personality:

Rodge is a bit rough around the edges, and fiercely independent. Quick to anger, lead-footed behind the wheel. Relentless when a problem is presented to her. 

She lives by the boy-scout motto 'be-prepared', she is never without her monkey wrench, a wine key, and a lighter. 

Rodge is a skeptic, an atheist. Even though she has heard of these people with superpowers, but won’t believe it until she sees it. Likewise, she doesn’t take anyone at their word, only their actions define them. Like cars, the outside might be polished and shiny, with leather seats and an air freshener, but your engine might still be a lemon.

Shopping Fun: 

It was freshman year of high school. Rodge and Mansi were in Helena at a grocery store. This was back when Rodge was still skinny and Mansi was still alive. 

They lived for this, saving up pennies for enough gas to drive out of town. They didn’t care if it was a school day or other obligations were at hand or even what time of day it was, as soon as they thought they had enough for a full adventure they were off. Sometimes to a city, sometimes to nowhere (which Montana had plenty of).
 
They didn’t have a huge grocery like this one back home. The the girls giggled in fits at the abundant variety available under the sharp fluorescent lights. They needed a few supplies, and indulged in a few candies they couldn’t get back home. Mansi already had a lollipop unwrapped and in her mouth as they approached the counter.

Rodge and Mansi saw the gun, but didn’t blink. It wasn’t uncommon out here. Rodge wrinkled her nose at the smell of him, alcohol and drugs, and Mansi made a face as well. The two girls giggled as the man began to argue with the red-headed cashier. 

Then he drew his gun. Spitting as he screamed "Give me the cash!". Rodge grabbed Mansi by the shoulder and the two girls pulled each-other away from the counter and ducked behind conveyer belt machine. 

The cashier had gone as she handed the man bundles of cash with shaking fingers, hen he took off.

Adventurous Rodge and Mansi were the first two people back on their feet. They raced for the door and watched the man drive away.

In a matter of minutes there was a police officer, asking for a description of the man. Rodge heard the word 'car' and started listening. “... He went off in a… in a Camry… an grey '88 Camry!”

Rodge whipped around. “It wasn’t a Camry! it was a '88 626! They look similar but it was definitely a...” 

The man giving testimony shook his head. “I know the 88 Camry! That was my own mothers car for years!” The police officer sided with the adult. Besides, what would a teenaged girl know about cars?

“Ugh! Come on Mansi.” They headed back to the truck, an ‘83 dodge Ram. 

Mansi had accidentally stolen some of the items in the store. She, and everyone else was too shaken to notice. She still had the lollipop in her mouth, and her hands clutched a box of tampons and motor oil. After a few moments she gave Rodge a curious look. “Um… where are we going?”

“They are looking for the wrong car, they’ll never find him.” 

Mansi put up some protest, but it was she who spotted the car first. They followed it around town, it wandered around until it stopped at a shabby apartment building. He went inside. Rodge and Mindy called the police… Rodge popped the hood of the 88’ 626 while Mindy ransacked the inside. “I need one of theses…” Rodge rearranged things under the hood and took a few souvenirs for herself, and Mindy found a 40 of miller high life and a ‘goodie bag’. They left the baggie and took the 40.

Rodge never knew if the man was brought to ‘justice’ or not. She and Mindy tried to go straight home after that… but ran out of gas a few miles out. They shared the 40 on the roof of the truck and stared out at the stars. In the morning the walked the last three miles. Her Grandfather was furious, to furious to understand that they had only run out of gas because they were following a [i]badguy[/i]. He didn’t care that she was administering justice, she was grounded.