| Alexa |
 |
| Portrayed By: | Rachel McAdams |
| Status: | Alive |
| Age: | 24 |
| Occupation: | Car Liberator |
| Family: | Unfortunately |
| Significant Other(s): | Only in her wildest dreams |
| Freak Factor: | Don't call me a freak!!! |
Spoiler Warning: Plot and/or ending details follow. This knowledge is provided for Out of Character reading pleasure only, and is not to be used In Character without justified knowledge of the events (such as being present, or having staff permission).
Background
Kids suck. No, I mean they REALLY suck. Your parents will tell you that everything changes after high school, but that's just not true. No matter what you do, or who you become, the stuff that happens to you in high school will affect you every day for the rest of your life. Or at least until you're 24, which is what I am.
I guess it really started before high school. I lived most of my life in Henderson, Nevada as the only child of Kristen Thompson (father unknown!). I know most single mothers of tortured teenagers are supposed to work as strippers and smoke cigars, but my mom was actually very conservative. She worked in the local chocolate factory, and wore control-top pantyhose. I kid you not. What kind of example does that set for an adolescent female? So, obviously, when I showed up to my first day of kindergarten in a pink sweater embroidered with pictures of fluffy white kittens …. well, let's just say that set a precedent for the rest of my school life. Top top it all off, I had a horrible stutter which was the bane of my existance, until I finally met with a successful speech therapist in middle school. But by that time, I had already committed social suicide several times over, so little good it did me. I still haven't totally gotten rid of that stutter.
Let me back up a little. From day one, my mother always told me that I could be anything I wanted, do anything I wanted, wear anything I wanted, and go anywhere I wanted. Silly me, I believed her completely. I spent many of my formative years buried in my studies, and by the time I realized that studying wasn't cool, school was almost over anyway. So, I just kinda kept studying. I was good at most everything I put my mind to, and I got pretty much all A's. Almost in direct opposition, I didn't have very many friends. Most people found something to say about my clothes, my hair, my book-smarts, my scent (apparently I smell like nerd), or a billion other things I just didn't do right. By my senior year, I was determined to leave Henderson as quickly as possible, and head to Las Vegas, seeking that oh-so-elusive "cool".
It was my senior year that I discovered cars. And boys. But the cars came first. I found out I was missing an extra-curricular credit that I needed to graduate, and auto shop was the only class open. Submersion into this grease-smeared world was just what I needed. Not only did I find I had an affinity for tinkering with cars, but I also found Paul. Paul was the perfect guy, in the sense that he was every mother's nightmare. With his uncut hair, his attachment to the color black, and his dubious after-school activities, he was just the type of social outcast I needed to ignore the fact that I was an utter nerd, and date me anyway. Within weeks of meeting him, I had streaked my hair in punky colors, and started dressing to match. He helped my build my baby (1961 Corvette convertible in the original Honduras Maroon), and taught me how to tinker with an engine. He was my very first boyfriend.
Or at least, I thought he was my boyfriend at the time. Turns out it was more like me adoring him, and him using me to help him steal cars. Admittedly, I was really good. I guess I can't really blame him for snatching up the opportunity when he saw it, and I can pretty much thank him for starting me down the path that I'm on now. But the day that my usefulness to him ran out was a hard one. He just told me it had been nice working with me, and left. Ouchies.
True to my self-vow, I left Henderson as soon as I graduated. I got as far as Vegas, where I settled down to work odd jobs here and there before moving on. And I -will- be moving on. Probably to someplace like New York, or Chicago. Someplace I can blend into the crowd. Maybe have some friends. Do something that really makes a -difference-. I know I've got the smarts to do anything that I want … be anything that I want. I just have to get my shit into gear first. I've been supplimenting my income a little bit by stealing the occasional beauty and passing them on to interested parties, so it shouldn't take me long. As soon as I'm out of here …. that's when my -real- life will start.
Relationships
| Name | Relation | Notes |
| Graydon | Friend | They met (again?) trying to boost the same car. Perhaps they both have excellent taste in cars. Also, they went to HS together! He's going to let her help him build his car (even if he doesn't want to). She asked him out on a date, but he didn't come. |
| Sunny | Friend and Roommate | Can confide in this girl. She's pretty honest and straightforward. Plus, they can talk cars. Cannot go wrong! |
| Madison | Roommate #3 | Also met talking over laundry. She was stood up by a guy, but refused to let Alexa go tamper with his car. Fun girl anyway. Likes cheesecake, which is only a point in her favor. |
| Lucy | Other Roommate | Met this girl when some really hot guy was hitting on her in the park. Ran into her later at the coffee shop, and she announced she ws going to split rent with Alexa and Savannah. Don't mind, 'cause she's completely sweet. Don't want her maid service, though. |
| Jay | Jerk! | Took her out on several dates, but failed to mention the GF the entire time. Should have known better, anyway. |
| Mister Hawthorne | Acquaintance | Drawn to his cool sense of politeness. He seems very well read and intelligent. Interesting to talk to. |
Skills
| Quality | Notes |
| Superscientist | Fiddling with stuff is the sign of a creative mind. Exploding stuff is the sign of a brilliant one. |
| Brainiac | Just because a girl has a big brain doesn't mean she has to use it. |
| Criminal | See above. |
| Car Guy | If you steal enough cars, eventually you're going to start wanting one of your own. |
| Attractiveness | Nerd-girls are in these days. |
Logs
A Polite Man's Guide to Stealing Cars Courteously
BE SURE TO TAG YOUR CHARACTER PAGE!
