She prefers the term, "eccentric."
Niece of the great Nikola Tesla, Mikha tries to downplay her relation to "Uncle Nikky" and often uses her middle name as a surname, going by "Mikha Remington," or "Remy" among her few close friends. Her secretive nature has nothing to do with any sort of shame, but rather a desire to build her own name and reputation, even though she works in a similar field and uses similar theories.
Possessing - often possessed by - a brilliant and driven mind, she graduated from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology with a dual major in physics and engineering at the age of 18, got her masters by 20, started teaching thereafter and was made professor at 26. This didn't last long, as one of her students died under mysterious circumstances. Officially it was a simple lab accident and she was found innocent, but neither her views nor her gender won Professor Remington many admirers, and she soon found her work environment to be somewhat... hostile. The Board paid her a modest pension to quietly retire from university life, amidst rumors that she'd murdered her student to steal his work, or even that the two of them were involved in an affair. Though she remembers her alma mater fondly and seems to enjoy being called "Professor," she does not care to discuss the "incident" and chills immediately to anyone who might mention it. She continues to publish academic papers in various fields of science and engineering.
Even before the incident, Mikha was not well-liked among her peers. Those who knew about her lineage assumed she was coasting on her uncle's successes, particularly given the resemblance of their work. She calls herself a "free-thinker" and has what she calls an, "enlightened" view of life and religion. Others seem happy to call it blasphemy or heresy. She believes that prohibition is a noble cause as alcohol dulls the mind, and is herself a teetotaller, but feels that others have the right to do what they choose, in accordance with her libertarian ideals. That said, she feels it is a tragedy and a crime that anyone should have to go hungry in so wealthy a nation.
No one's entirely sure why she came to New Haven. Maybe to start over in her small laboratory and garage, where she makes ends meet by working as a mechanic. Maybe simply to get away from people and their prying questions and accusations, as word has it she's something of a recluse. Or maybe, as some believe, to build death rays and war machines for the government.
Those who have stopped by her garage have noticed a fancy hovercar with a giant engine parked in one of the bays and often covered or otherwise partially disassembled. It would take one heck of a driver to put all that power to use.
With wavy, shoulder-length black hair, dark eyes and lightly tanned skin, there is little she can do to hide her Serbian heritage. Rarely without her usual pair of glasses, set aside only when she's welding, she's pretty enough and could probably be a knock-out if she put any care into make-up or styling her hair... but she doesn't. She favors long dresses and often wears a vest or a corset, but always insists on a loose shirt with sleeves she can roll, ready to apply her craft at a moment's notice. Even in the heart of a chilly New England winter, she always wears a plain black longcoat, sometimes cinched high on her waist. Why, is anybody's guess.
She adheres to a strict sense of style, both in her attire and her life, though that sense seems to be entirely her own, immune to the tide of fad fashion. As an engineer, her life is dedicated to improving life through technology and technology through simplicity, but she still seems to see value in ritual.
Oddly enough, she seems to have some sort of personal vendetta against Thomas Edison.