1) It can be difficult running a web page, and time consuming getting new profiles implemented or old ones updated. This topic can serve as a (temporary) place for us to post our profiles.

2) It was always easy on the older sites to do a search for a character and read their profiles to glean some tidbit of information or refresh our memories on who we were talking to.

That said, the best place to find profiles of current and past characters is still:
members.xoom.com/hatrackriver/

Ben, I absolutely love your site and have nothing but respect and love for you.

-C aka Shen Conner

[EDIT: The site has been unavailable for awhile, but rest assured Ben has given me his word there will be a new and better site available... eventually. ]

Reason for returning to Hatrack: His search for Eliza Turner has been riddled with one dead-end after another. Thinking perhaps she has returned to the town they first met in, Shen Conner has, finally, returned to Hatrack.

Background: Janet has been unable to speak since she was four for reasons that nobody knows. She lived in Hatrack several years ago, three or four years; when her brother, Scott, stole a chicken from Henny Featherbairn, and landed in jail, they moved away to live with some friends. Sarah Ray decided she missed Hatrack, and they only recently moved back.

To Fyfe, your profile is now up on the xoom page as well as Amira Scholars. I've been trying to add a few every week and will continue to do so. Also it is a good place to send newbies who may also want to join the email list.

Name: Joshua
Age: Looks to be between 25-35
Physical Description: Joshua is rangy and sunbrowned from hard work, with thick black hair and dark eyes. His face is clean shaven. Joshua walks with a pronounced limp, and gets around with the help of a cane.
Knack: Joshua is an exceptional bee charmer
Relatives: His estranged mother-in-law, Miriam Gruber, in Camelot, and his one-time guardian Ruth Murawski, also in Camelot.
Written by: Scott Roberts

Background: Joshua is an orphan, thus he has taken no last name, and does not know his exact age. He grew up on the streets of Camelot, along with several other boys who became his close friends. He discovered his knack with bees, and acquired a position in the king's court as an apprentice beekeeper. It was at court that he met his future wife, Hannah Gruber. They became friends and married eventually. Hannah's father, Jacob Gruber, disapproved of their marriage, and came to Camelot to take Hannah back with him to his plantation. Joshua followed, and in the ensuing fight, both Hannah and Jacob were killed. Joshua fled Camelot fearing retribution, and wound up in Hatrack. He was recently exonerated of any wrongdoing.

Background: Miriam's parents brought her to America when she was still a child. Before her mother's death, Miriam learned a great deal about hexery. She continued to learn from slaves and other immigrants, and became quite accomplished. She married Jacob Gruber when she was still a teenager, and three years later, bore him a daughter they named Hannah. Jacob was abusive- Miriam fled, leaving her daughter in his care.

-I made her younger than 24 as earlier stated, due to the fact, in the 1830's umarried at 19 is an old maid muchless 24.

The advantage of creating a public profile is it gives other writers you interact with to throw more desription into their posts. Plus, it's nice to know who you're talking to.

Hey Ben, you still keeping up on that page, or would it be better for newbies to post a profile here?

-C

Hobbes

Background: Born in New Amsterdam, Philip was apprenticed to a blacksmith at age 10. At 15 he fell in love with a beautiful girl named Annie. He cut off his apprenticeship (the master was kind, and let him go) so that he could do odd jobs. At the age of 18 he had enough money to marry, and he and his new wife moved to the country, where he continued to do odd jobs. When he was 21 (Annie was 20) Annie fell deathly ill, and the doctor didn’t know what it was. He said that the only way to keep her alive was weekly visits and expensive medicines. Philip couldn’t earn enough to pay for this, so he was forced to become a trader, leaving Annie for up to two months at a time. His trading has led him to Hatrack, where he seeks to sell his goods and find a doctor that can cure his wife.

Hobbes

Age: Puppy

Physical Description: Fyrro is a very small dogpuppy with a brown fur and big brown puppyeyes.

Knack: Can dogs have knacks?

Relatives: Two brothers and three sisters

Written by: Joel Holmgren

On another note, what if you want to contact someone for a story idea, but they don't post their e-mail? Am I to assume that person is not open to suggestion? Or is there another acceptable way of pitching the idea to them?

Yes, dogs can have knacks. Your puppy can be the best tail wagger, or bone sniffer, or cat chaser this side of the Mizzippy. Because it's a dog, naturally it would have to have a doggy knack.

Carter:

Her knack, like most cats of course, is catching mice.

Background: Sigvard was born in Sweden (I guess that explains his name probably looks strange to you) and was the only son in a wealthy family. When Sigvard was 5 his mother died in an accident and a couple of weeks later his father killed himself. At the age of 20 Sigvard sold everything he owned and moved to Paris. In Paris he picked up the nasty habit to drink and gamble which resulted in that he lost all his money and was forced to leave Paris. When he set sail from Paris to Boston he was 35 years old and had no money at all. He was forced to become a thief and during a burglar he was caught by the police. After spending a couple of years in prison the 47 year old Sigvard left Boston owning nothing more then the clothes on his body. He have spent the rest of his life travelling from town to town working as everything from a teacher to a miner.

Age: 28

Looks: 5'3", 125 pounds. Long blonde hair that escapes her chignon in curls, golden-toned skin, gray eyes that tend to take on the hue of the clothing she is wearing or change with her emotions.

Knack: Purposely hidden things become apparent in her presence (but merely lost things do not). This can be as simple as a rug curling up as she walks by to show the dirt that was swept beneath it, or as complicated as the fact that she cannot hide herself successfully from anyone. She considers the knack a curse rather than a gift. Its only saving feature is that it does not consider "unmentionables" hidden, or else people would forever be involuntarily losing their clothing around her.

History: Although she has had many years practice disguising it, someone with an exceptionally discerning ear and experience in the Colonies will know she lived there once. She was raised by her father, a lawyer, after her mother died when Lara was 10. She is consequently quite overeducated for a female, and until her original entry into Hatrack, horribly unskilled at the feminine arts. This made her unacceptable as a bride to the male population of her hometown. She never courted or married, living instead with her father, acting as his legal secretary and directing their household staff. They were considered a pair of eccentrics by the locals. A problem involving her knack and a neighbor nobleman caused the death of her father and set her on the run at the age of 22.

When she first stepped off the coach in Hatrack six (more or less) years ago, she had no skills other than her education and no desire to make her knack known. To hide her true identity she used an odd version of her mother's maiden name. She went to work for the local lawyer but he soon left town. At about the same time, the owners of the boarding house she was staying in also decided to leave town, and she begged to be allowed to take it over and was handed the keys. She taught herself to clean and launder by trying to remember what her staff at her father's house had done, and through the kindness of the locals.

Boarders were originally sent to the Hatrack Cafe for their meals, but then a pair of 13-year-old twins showed up at the house. Recognizing kindred spirits, Lara took Nettie and Nellie in and the three concocted the story that they were her nieces. The twins cooked and helped Lara learn to, and gradually the boarding house became a success. Many locals who had their own homes came for the large holiday gatherings at the Boarding House. Because the last name she was using meant nothing to them, the locals slowly changed it to Hostell, and she was happy to let them.

Lara met and fell in love with Bradley Vape, who was at various times sheriff and blacksmith for Hatrack. They were courting and she had reluctantly agreed to marry him (she was worried about her past finding her) when he had to leave town to attend to family matters back east. Before he could return, a traveler from the colonies chanced to spend some time at the Boarding House and became suspicious. Although she dodged his pointed questions as long as she could, she finally gave up and disappeared one day. The twins either went with her or their own way, no one knows.

Age: Around fifty, though looks thirty.

Physical discription: Black hair combed back around his head. Face almost pure grey, and his near-red eyes always seem to piece through you. Always wears black: black shirt, black pants, black shoes, always shining. An ominous character. Also quite strong. Eerily courteous, English accent.

Knack: Spark, and a rather good one. Can start a fire anytime, anywhere, as long as where he's starting it has something that can burn.

Tansy can be found running amok in the Main Street (Main Street), River (Trout's Fish Market) and Outskirts (Joshua's Cabin) folders, mostly. Elsewise, you're more than welcome to email me and chat!

Description: She's a plain lookin' lady, with extremely light brown hair and ocean hued eyes, a small spread of light freckles across the bridge of her nose. Small in stature- standin' 'round 5'5. Porcelainesque skin frequently tainted with a smear of dirt after a long day in the green house. Her hair was usually pulled into a sloppy "I don't have the time for this" bun, but on rare occasions, she worked up enough serious effort to french braid it neatly. But that's just about it; she hardly stood out, 'cept in fine company of course.

Knack: Layla's got herself a fine green thumb. She can plant the most exotic plants in the.. most unexotic soil and still manage a grand specimen. Goin' along with that, she's got a keen eye for which flowers went best together. Not to mention a talent for plantin' organic hexery.

Written By: Renee Amey

Heads up for a Hatrack Catfight!!

Knack: Treasure seems to be unaware of it, but the wolves amidst the sheep are downright certain this little girl can smell a lie as sure as if it was an entire confectionary shop.

Relatives: Valiant Huntley- Father, somewhere in Netticut; Luwellyn Huntley/Patchwork- Mother, residence unknown.

Description: Small for her age, Treasure is often mistaken for much younger. She's got soft golden brown hair that ends in subtle curls. Huge doe-like eyes, always observing. She doesn't say much- just enough to pass for polite, and never more than she needs to. She's wrapped in a semi-raggedy alice blue dress, a simple one at that, and a black pair of scuffed "used-ta-be-shiney" sandals.

Background: Treasure knew when Daddy told a lie, his eye twitched and he always rubbed the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. Mama'd gone off with that "Dennis Patchwork" from nextdoor leavin' Treasure all alone that afternoon.

Daddy'd barged in with his kill lopped over his shoulder..

"Well baby! We got ourselves dinner til' the second coming!" He flashed the smile that Valiant Huntley was famous for and it almost made "Trej", as he called her, grin along with him, yet the muscles in her face didn't want to cooperate. He knelt down immediately, sensing his daughters anguish. "What's the matter Trej, ya look like ya done seen a ghost!" after the short period of silence that passed between them, Valiant's brows softened, his countenance fallin'. "Where's Mama, baby?" and when there came no answer from Treasure, Valiant Huntley pieced it all together and forced a smile.."Ah, Trej, I'm sure she'll be back soon.. She probably just went to fetch some things from the market."

Daddy's eye tremored with a short series of blinks and his sleeve raised to wipe the sweat from his brow. Treasure knew then, that Luwellyn Huntley, wasn't at no market, and she sure as hellfire wasn't coming back to her husband and child. After that determined burning in her eyes had faded, Treasure put her hand on her pa's shoulder and whispered.

"I'm sure you're right, Daddy."

It was the next morning when Valiant found the childish scrawl of his daughters hand on a parchment sheet near his bed.

Dear Daddy,

I went ta the markit ta look fer sumthin. I'll be back iffen I find it. Don't ya wurry bout me none, I's got me that Huntley blud ta keep me outta trubble. I knewed youd unterstand.

Luv Ferever,
Yer Treasure

Valiant waited by the window that day. By nightfall, he couldn't take it anymore and he stormed out the door, armed to high heaven.

Treasure was gone. She was off to find her Mama, and if she couldn't, then by golly she'd find Daddy someone else to love. Someone worthy of Valiant Huntley's deep affection.

written by: Renee Amey

Name: Kathryn Walker

Age: 29

Description: 5'4" in height, she has hazel/green eyes and long brunette hair with both red and blond highlights that change her hair all kinds of colors in the right light. Being a stickler for neatness, her hair is usually in a braid or some kind of 'neat' do. She is sturdy- not fat, but not petite either- and has a compassionate look about her.

Relatives: Mother, Deborah Wolf-Physiker, -immigrated from Germany and Father, Milton Physiker, still living in Philadelphia with her younger brother (just starting his apprenticeship) Stephen Walker. Daughter, Musik Walker, age 7, traveling with her to Hatrack.

Occupation: Veterinarian

Knack: Animal compassion/healing (sort of a combination of her parent's knacks. She is able to calm and or charm any animal around her (not fearing her, letting her near them, etc) *mother* and if they are injured, able to 'puzzle out' just what to do to fix them. *father*)

Background/History: Kathryn lived most of her life on the outskirts of Philadelphia with her parents and older brother (who passed away just as she was turning 16) learning from both her parents. Her father was the local doctor, from him she learned the art of medicine- though a woman doctoring people was near scandal- and her mother had a knack with wildlife, being able to call animals and have them come to her and listen to her wishes (if not always obey.) this knack was most powerful with wolves. While Kathryn couldn't call animals herself (when she was younger of course- before her knack had matured) she learned a healthy respect for the local flora and fauna.

Because of her affinity towards both healing and animals, when she came of age for trade schooling- and her parents let ~her~ choose- she decided to follow the Veterinary practice- combining what she had learned from both parents. She took to it well, seeming to have a 'knack' for it, though she never thought of it that way. Flying through her courses, she soon became more than a prentice and started her practice in earnest, healing local wildlife and farm animals. People didn't seem to mind a woman working on their animals like they did the people, especially when this woman could sometimes being able to 'bring back' a horse what had been shoed by a lazy blacksmith who nailed into the meaty part of hoof so it didn't lame or craze.

It was one such night where she was calming a horse had an injured leg from galloping in a fierce storm that she met Michael Walker. He was just what his name implied- a walker, a mapper of the land. While his horse was down, he was forced to stay in town for a little over a week. In that time, young Kathryn fell in love- and when he was able to leave, she went with him. There was no need for a woman to work, and if she ever felt a need to work, there'd be animals aplenty wherever there was people. Course that wouldn't do for her parents, so they had a right nice marriage afore they'd left.

And so they went for years to come, wandering around the easter coast, making their way slowly west, somewhere along the way- a daughter was born, Musik. They had just finished mapping out Apalachee territory and were headed into Hio Territory when the accident occured. They had been allowed to stay the night in the loft of a farmer's barn one night when- unknown to anyone HOW- it caught fire in the middle of the night. Michael had tossed both Kat and Musik out of the loft to safety, but in the process got burned so that even the physiker, surgeon, or all the hexes they could think of couldn't save him. Kathryn laid her husband in the ground near the Appalachee/Hio boundary- his body a mark of territory line- right near the covered bridge that spanned the River Hio.

Now with a seven year old daughter, Kathryn didn't want to return home to depend on her parents- who were having a hard enough time with her younger brother, Stephen- but she didn't know where to go from there. A quick glance at Michael's maps told her just where to go. So now she and her daughter, Musik, and their wolfpet Shadow, who had more adopted them then they him, made their way to the only part of Hio territory that was mapped by Michael- the place he had spoken of only a few times in their life together- his homeland. Hatrack.

Written By: Manda Jacobs

(well now- you know why Kat's coming and some of her history, etc. now I just need to concentrate on posting. I hope I get the knack of it soon. and if I can't, I'll just ask!)

Age: 29

Looks: 5'11", 155 pounds. Nikoli has short brown hair and blue eyes. He is the son of a Russian immigrant and has a light accent. Nikoli is compactly built but strong.

Knack: Nikoli Zurchovich has a knack for understanding the way things work and how things fit together. This comes in handy in his job as an inventor.

Physical appearance: Long curly copper-coloured hair that never stays in place. Average height with green eyes.

Knacks: She thinks she has none, but she can do practically anything she sets her mind to, and be good at it. (Not great as in a real knack, but good)

Parents: Mother - Marie Bothe - of French descent. Working as housekeeper to Reverend Barter.
Father - Unknown

Her mother gave her some money to start a new life away from London. Lize boarded the first ship to New Amsterdam. Did not really like 'city' life and decided to go west. Got a ride from a farmer from Dekane to Hatrack, but the farmer got offended by some of the answers he got to his questions and left her at the roadside. Lost her purse when she was manhandled by him. (He might even have stolen it) Thus she arrived penniless in Hatrack.

Age: About 25

Physical Description: Tall, and fit as a farm horse. Sunbrowned, and freckled from hard work. She has blond hair and blue eyes and dresses in normal farm style clothes.

Knack: Common sense and plain speaking.

Relatives: Her parents, two brothers, and three sisters live in a small town a week or so to the east.

Background: Aggie left home because the family farm was failing. The crops that came in were barely able to support her parents, even with everyone working as hard as they could. She's come to Hatrack in hopes of making a place for herself and starting fresh, and when she gets a regular job, she'll be sending money home regularly.

Age: 22

Description: 5'9" Angular features, not muscular as much as just desparately needs to keep the company of some good food. He doesn't have focus in his eyes which makes people think that he is not listening or paying attention- sometimes that is true, but most of the time he just is thinking about what is being explained to him. Changing it in his mind or thinking about how it could be different.

Relatives: Mother, Domonique Roque -a creole lady of suspicious distinction and Father, Remi Cooper, they live in New Orleans and Remi owes a shop with just enough business to get by. Remi can trace his line back to the french immigrants from Arcadia.
Commander has a sister, Dame, who lives in New Orleans with her husband.

Edit: I used your profile as a template and failed to catch that mistake.

Occupation: Dabbler, Dilletante, Wanderer, Jack of all trades, but master of absolutely none.

Knack: He picks up trades remarkably quickly, but he doesn't excel in anyone of them. From wrestling to gardening, he is better than most, but not as good as some.

Background/History: Commander just ran out of money, and eventually wants to get to New York or Boston. He is not really in a rush to get there because he doesn't know what he is going to do when he gets there. He hopes to find some sort of direction in Hatrack.

Age: 24

Physical appearance: BIG. 6"8' Scares most people just by looking at them. He has light green eyes and brown hair. His nose has a bump - it was broken in a fight and was not set very well by the doctor.

Personality: Shy and gentle. Always willing to fight for the underdog. Especially when provoked.

Knacks: Hexes in metal. He is hopeless when putting a hex in anything that does not contain a metal component. Can however shoe a horse with the shoes so hexed up that if a slave were to escape with that horse, the finders cannot find the horse tracks, or see the mounted slave in plain sight.

Jim hopes to open a smithy here in Hatrack.

Knack: Just what his name would entail. Val was a hunter, and a darn fine one at that.. not to mention conscientious.. He'd never take the life of a wild one unless it was offered. How he knew when it was bein' offered.. was simply beyond his understanding.

Relatives: Treasure Huntley- Daughter, Missing; all he had left in this world.

Description: Valiant was a large man.. of course he was dwarfed often enough by the giants that seemed to lumber about in these parts.. but he was a good size. 6'3 220 lbs. with broad shoulders and a slender, wrasslers belly- modestly clothed in a pair of dark brown trousers, a black button down shirt with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows- tucked beneath a set of brown, leather suspenders, and at his feet, a pair of dusty black boots. His hair was a rich golden brown, styled short and neat, and his eyes the color of moss.

Background:

Dear Daddy,

I went ta the markit ta look fer sumthin. I'll be back iffen I find it. Don't ya wurry bout me none, I's got me that Huntley blud ta keep me outta trubble. I knewed youd unterstand.

Luv Ferever,
Yer Treasure

That was the note that Valiant Huntley found tucked against his bedside dresser. His baby'd gone abroad in the world- trekkin' after things that no child should ever even have to think about. Oh, if only he and Luwellyn had settled their differences the right way, maybe his gem, his treasure.. wouldn't have found herself in this mess. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions.. Maybe Treasure really WAS in the market.. gettin' some herbs for the roast they were to prepare for supper. Valiant waited by the window that day. By nightfall, he couldn't take it anymore and he stormed out the door, armed to high heaven. "Oh my little girl.. where did you run off to?"

He would pass through many places in the coming months. All of Netticut... New Holland.. New Orange.. Pennsylvania.. Where finally in Dekane, he met a woman who'd lost her flower business to a ravenous spark. After telling her all about what happened the day Treasure took off, she swore her friendship and told him that she was heading westward and that if she found her, she'd keep an eye on her until Valiant could make his way out there. With someone else joining in the search, Val thought it alright to press on northward into Irrakwa. It was there that he caught wind of his estranged wife.. only now she wasn't just missing.. She was -really- gone. That Dennis fellar had been more than he seemed. On the run from the law and what not.. His neighbors in Irrakwa.. accounted for the night that Luwellyn died. There was a lot of shouting.. a lawman came at once to settle the dispute.. and poor Luw caught a musketball in the chest, somewhere between Dennis seein' the Sheriff and the Sheriff drawin' his gun. Val didn't have the hate in him not to grieve, neither the love to stick around for the funeral. His journey took him South again and when the Barber, whose shop used to be adjacent to Layla's greenhouse, told him he recieved word from her in Hatrack River in the Hio Territory.. why, his feet found him fumblin' west hoping that maybe Layla had some news...

Written by: Jeremy Ehlert

Knack: Will has a flawlessly elegant hand when it comes to lettering/scribing. More often then not, he can mimic a man's penmanship perfectly and accomadate a particular textual style if given a sample.

Relatives: None

Description: Will, is a tall young man.. limber and thin.. definitely not a man for hard labor. Oh he was strong enough, and didn't mind the work at all.. It just seemed as if God didn't really have it in mind for William Scribe. Sandy colored hair kept short and somehow stylishly unkempt, settled as his crown. His eyes are a dark, midnight blue. Generally a quiet young man when he's around people who have yet to break through the shields of security that line his heart. Yet, when he did speak, to those said strangers, it was to the point and in a lovely english accent and eduacated air. Always a gentlemen, and a poet at heart.

Background:

The beginning of William's life is quite gloomy- So for the sake of your ears, let it just be said that his parents were unable to care for him and thus, foisted him into his Grandmother's arms. In doing so, they gave him the chance at life he ought to have had from the very start. Gran was a wonderful parent, loving, kind.. and most importantly, for Will, literate. Will's obsession for the written word started early in his youth. He'd read through all the volumes in old Gran's manor before he was sent off to his first year of shooling. Enrolling at the tender age of 5.

It wasn't long before Will's teachers discovered his deft awareness of the word and it's lettering. Effortlessly skillfull in his accuracy- He soon found himself at the forefront of his class.. tutoring the younger boys and occasionally scribing for a professor. It was the latter, that would give Will his start in adulthood. Professor Woolsley, retiring due to the aches and pains that frequently disturbed his hands, hired a young William to serve as his personal scribe on his trip to America. His goodbye kiss to Gran, wasn't supposed to be the last. However, Will found himself fascinated with the Americans- with their customs and...uncustoms, and quickley made up his mind that he was going to stay. When the Professor heard of Will's extended "visit", he was sorely grieved.. for he had come to love Will as his own son. Unable to part with uncertainty, he assumed the role of Williams patronage, and would not set sail until he knew where "his boy" was to set up shop. Woolsley stayed in East Hampshire, while Will went abroad. It was that very journey, started a year before, that landed him here in Hatrack. It certainly was a growing town and Will grew quite fond of its infancy. Now that he was home.. old Woolsley could go back. And go back he did.. but not without letters of promise.. letters of praise. The good professor would support will via mail until he got his bearings.

Will- Becoming an adult at 19.

Age: Early 30's

Appearance: Brown hair graying at the temples. Brown eyes. Kindly looking. Laugh wrinkles beside his eyes and mouth.

Served as a father figure to Lize as she was growing up. Also tried to reform her mother to do a more reputable job. Finally succeeded as she consented to follow Lize to hatrack and become his housekeeper.

Age: Late 30's

Appearance: Still beatiful despite her age. Same curly copper hair as Lize, but hers is liberally sprinkled with gray. Body slightly thickened from age. Green eyes.

Parents: Miles Malory-Father
Maria Malory -Mother: passed on while giving birth to Scarlet.

Brothers: Miles, Richard, Jamie, Michael, Jon.

Family buisness: Ships

Pets: Blue: Scarlet's beloved horse.
Ryan: Scarlet's cat.

Personality: Scarlet is loving, kind and good hearted, but she holds people at arms length. She wards off closeness with her provacative flirting that normally shocks people and sends them running for the door.

The key to her heart: NEVER WILL TELL...figure it out.

Knack: Wood working of course. Caleb found his knack, and future career in the dust covered workshop of his ol' Pappy when he was only 8 years old. More on that, a little later.

Relatives: John and Elizabeth Mason [His parents who are currently back in Irrakwa]; Josiah Carpenter [his ol' Pappy who is living with Caleb's cousin Karyna]; and Karyna Potter [His best friend and Cousin, who has her own place and Business in Dekane.]

Description: Caleb is a lean man, broad in the shoulders and well muscled, with newly sunkissed skin, jet black hair, and cool, steel gray eyes. He's a hard one to dislike, always kind, honest, fair. Not to mention endlessly devoted to his family and friends. Caleb's word is as solid as the oak he works with.

Background: An 8 year old Caleb woke with a start. A loud clamoring had disrupted his dreams and pulled him hastily from his bed. What in the world was going on down there? Well, whatever it was.. he had to find out. Sleepy footfalls smacked against the wooden steps of their 2 story home in Irrakwa. Papa was seated at the breakfast table with his nose shoved into the newspaper.

"Mornin' Son. Yer up early." said his father.
"How in the world can ANYONE sleep with all that noise a'rumblin' the whole darn house?!" Caleb cried.
His father chuckled and shook is head "Ol' Pappy is rootin' around fer somethin' in the basement. Go on down and help him."
"But Dad--"
"No buts young man, now go on."

Caleb passed a livid Karyna who had pillows jammed up against her ears, and shambled down to the basement. Sure enough, Ol' Pappy was burrowin' through boxes like a mole in the dirt.

"Ol' Pappy? Whatcha lookin' for?" shouted Caleb over the tumult.

Pappy's white haired head popped up, just beyond a stack of boxes nigh to his chin. His eyes all a'sparkle behind his thin rimmed spectacles.

"Cally? Is that you?" He called, as if Caleb were the one who was practically deaf.

"Yes'sir," replied Caleb, "Papa sent me down t'help ya look for whatever yer lookin' for."

"Ah. Has John stirred from behind his newsprint?"

Caleb laughed and perched himself atop a box, givin' a good scratch to his painfully white thigh [Winter always took away his summer glow]. "Nah. He's still readin'."

"Well... If you must know Mr. Busybody, I'ma lookin' for a jewelry box that I made fer yer Grammy back when we was courtin' eachother."

"Why ya lookin' fer that?" Caleb had never met his Grammy, she'd died before he was even born.

"Cause today, son, woulda been our 50th anniversary. I'd like t'go on out to her grave site and set it there."

"Quite a romantic notion, Pappy."

"Hush up Cally, you probably have no idea what a romantic notion even is." Pappy and Caleb chuckled together for a moment until Pappy outstretched his arm and pointed towards the stairs. "Go out to the old workshop and see if you can't find it."

So, Caleb, like always, did what he was instructed to do with minimal to no grumblin'. It was spring by the calendar, but Old Man Weather decided his daughter Winter wasn't quite through with her play yet. Caleb wrapped himself up good and sloshed outside to the workshop. The door slid open with a few good shoves and Caleb stepped inside. Boy was it a mess in there! Nobody'd been out here since Pappy's joints became too sore to work the wood anymore. Caleb struck a finger against one of the wooden pillars and pulled it away. His finger was thoroughly caked with dust. He grimaced as he walked to the back of the woodshop and began diggin' around for the Jewelry box. Much to his appreciation, he found the old thing with hardly any effort at all and he turned back to face the door. He took a few steps towards it when something caught his eye. The place where he struck his finger to sop up the dust was beautifully varnished with no withering marks at all. But how could that be? The rest of the pillar looked like it was just about ready to cave in on itself. The dust was thick, but he could still see the cracks. His brows scrunched together as he picked up a rag from one of the workbenches and began wiping away the dust. He was right.. the place was about to fall apart. Caleb took a step away from the pillar and soon found himself running at full speed back to the house. Down to the basement. Down to Josiah Carpenter. Ol' Pappy.

"Ah good! Ya fou-... What in the world's wrong with YOU, son? Ya look like ya dun seen a ghost!" Pappy enveloped the boy with an old, but still well muscled arm.

"Pappy... I- your workshop.. but my finger.. I-"

Caleb was on another planet as far as Pappy was concerned. He suddenly jumped and yelped, "Good Gracious boy! Ya didn't set the place on fire, did ya?!"

Pappy's hysterics finally brought Caleb back to our plain of existence. "No, Pappy. The wood there.. it's all decrepit and dilapidated. I swiped a finger across a beam and the wood there.. it was completely solid and smooth."

Pappy slowly got a look of understanding in his eyes and he let out a small hoot. "Well I'll be.."

"What? What'd I do?"

"You did what comes natural to some folks, Caleb. Some folks like...well.. like me for instance."

"You mean I've got a Knack?"

"Yes, Cally, that's what I mean."

Pappy could no longer work with his hands. Something his entire family lived to do. Daddy with his masonry... Momma with her cookin'. For a long time it'd eaten at Ol' Pappy's soul and now finally, he had himself a new pair of hands to work with. Youthful hands. Caleb's hands.

Caleb learned from Pappy for the good part of 10 years, and did odd jobs around the city for 9 more. That was when Karyna, his cousin, his best friend, had found herself her own knack. Pappy didn't know much about Pottery, but he knew how to hone an unused knack into a razor sharp tool in the handworkers belt. Karyna had started her own business out in Dekane and so took Ol' Pappy along with her. It was time Caleb put his talents into somethin' useful. It was time to find a place of his own.

Name: Rose Brown
Age: 27
Knack: removing stains from clothes
Relatives: Rose is an orphan. Her only family is her sister.
Description: She is little and plump, with brown eyes, red hair (more orange than red, actually), freckles and dimples when she smiles. She likes flashy clothes, in bright, tasteless colors that often clash with her hair.

Name: Honey Brown
Age: 19
Knack: blowing soap bubbles
Family: an orphan, her only family is her sister.
Description: She is little and slender, with honey-colored hair and brown eyes. Like her sister, she has freckles and dimples, but she smiles more and worries less.

Background: The sisters grew up together, in one of the poorest sections of a big city. When their parents died, they scraped and saved and supported themselves by any means possible, no matter how unsavory. Finally, they made enough money to travel to Hatrack, and start a business of their own. Rose is the smarter of the two sisters, and takes care of arranging things with regards to their business. Honey is the one who makes friends most easily.

Age: Past 50, but still very active for their age.

Knacks: Marelia knows where they will be needed, Mareline knows when they will be needed.

Knack: Julian has a way of bringing out true emotions. Unmasking people- so to say.

Relatives: None that he knows of.

Description: Julian is a sun bronzed, normal statured, 10 year old boy, with dark brown hair and even darker (if that's possible) green eyes, that shine with mischief, cleverness, and an altogether kindness.

Background:

Julian grew up on his own. Runnin' 'round the streets of Dekane and makin' a few coppers out of sweepin' folks' chimneys. Well, that was all fine and good by him, till some homeless lady told him he had real potential.. and that he ought not to waste it gettin' soot in all his cracks.

"Potential?" he asked. "What potential?"
"You'll see, Mr. Fisher... you'll see." said the old crone.

Just then a carriage pulled itself alongside the road, and out come a few ladies in purple and silver robes. Julian turned his head in their direction.

"Good morning Meredith," Said the elderly one.. apparently speaking to the old hag on the ground. "Who is your friend?"

Julian's first inclination was to run like the wind and never look back..but there was something about this lady that made him feel all warm and cozy.

"This is Julian Fisher, Sister Comfert. He's no parents to speak of.." croaked Meredith.

"Hey! I didn't tell you that! And what's all this Julian Fisher business?! They call me Marks out here.. ain't nobody said nothin' about no Julian Fisher!"

Sister Comferts hand came down to rest on "Marks'" shoulder. "Our friend Meredith here, has a way with names.. Mr. Fisher.. She's just told you your birth name.."

<My birth name!> Julian's heart cried. As soon as it uttered it's silent cheer, however.. His voice chained it up again. "I ain't got no birth name." He hissed as he began to turn toe.

"Julian..." Sister Comfert said, in a soft, compassionate tone. "We'd like very much to give you a roof for a while... and some proper nourishment.. Of course you can leave at any time.. We won't force you to stay.. But still..."
_________________________

Julian stayed at the orphanage for little over a year, and just as that old woman on the street had promised.. He'd found out what the 'real potential' she'd talked about, was. It happened on and off.. Sometimes with the teachers.. sometimes with the other orphans. Problem was.. Julian didn't know how to control it.

"Why, I'll rip your fuzzy little head off if you look at me like that again!" Tara shouted. Julian cackled with delight as Tara clasped a hand to her chest and gasped. "Oh my.. where did that.. Oh dear.. I.. I'm sorry Jules.. really.. I.. I didn't mean it."

Julian just shook his head at the woman and smiled. "Dun worry none, Ms. Comfert. I kinda have that effect on people."

Sister Comfert stared at him for a long while. He never did bother to ask why she was called a sister.. she wasn't Catholic or anything. But as she gazed at him.. he couldn't help but wondering.

"Sister Comfert.." he began, "..why do they call you -sister- anyway?"

Tara got a wistful look in her eyes, and tore them away from him. For a while.. Julian thought she wasn't going to respond. She just sat there unmoving, until finally, after what seemed like all eternity, she said "Well.. I suppose it's because I chose to stay. Chose to be a big sister to all the kids who were as unfortunate as I."

Julian frowned. No wonder she was still sitting with him.. waiting for his wagon to pull up. She'd seen EVERY wagon of EVERY kid who EVER decided to leave.. simply because she would never see her own. She regretted staying.. that much was obvious. But she did love her work.. and was grateful and compassionate.. and wonderful. And Julian loved her. Just as surely as he would've loved his own mother, if he had one.

The wagon sidled along the road, coming to a stop just beyond the orphanage's entrance hall. Sister Comfert sniffed as Julian hugged her and turned toward his 'awaiting chariot'.

"Remember to write!" she called after him, just as he was seating himself. Surprisingly enough.. tears welled in his eyes as the wagon lurched forward and clacked away.

Written by: Jeremy Ehlert

AGE: 32

Appearance: Tall and thin. He has brown curly hair and is clean-shaven. He is usually dressed up and always wears a gold pocket watch.

Knacks: He has a knack for getting a winning hand in Poker almost every time, which he does not use often because he does not really like to gamble. He sees it as a pointless waste of his money.

Profession: He does what needs to be done, mostly odd jobs for pay or just room and board. He learned to cook at a young age while growing up in his parents restaurant in Boston and has found that a useful skill in his journeys.

Background: Wyatt’s parents died when he was 12. They left him a good sum of money, which he used to go to the Newark Academy for 2 years when he was 17 and 18. But deciding that school was not for him he set out to see the world. He signed onto a merchant ship to work in the galley and while on board visited France, Spain and England. Upon returning he headed out west. He has never stayed anywhere for long but since his thirtieth birthday he has been looking for a place to settle down.

Name: Birley Smith

Age: 12 (been almost thirteen since September)

Description: (I'll try to get the pic up on the web soon.)

Occupation: apprentice blacksmith

Knack: Only clue of being anything extraordinary has been a strange trance at the orphanage on the day he became a 'prentice.

Written By: Chris Lynch

Background: Birley's earliest memories are of the cotton mill when he was six years old. He knows he was six, because the factory manager, a Mister Elko, told him so. Position, assigned tasks, were always assigned with age as the primary criteria. He hadn't grown much since his ninth birthday, being just under one and a half meters three years later. His height, combined with his small frame, made him ideal as a sweeper past the normal age of seven or eight. He crawled under the spinning looms until his speed and dexterity with his hands was recognized at the age of 10. For his last year and a half in employment at the factory he was a comber, seperating the threads in the loom when they threatened to become tangled.

His only memory of a home away from the factory was in his dreams, and in those dreams he had many brothers and sisters, most of them much older than him, but his only two sisters were about his age. He supposed, if his dreams were true memory, that it was due to his many older brothers that he was chosen to be sent to the factory. He never knew how much money they got from his labors, but in his dreams, his faceless parents were proud of him, and so he continued to work as hard as he could until he met one of the owners of the factory, Mister Brack.

Mister Elko was a tall Spaniard, with a very large mustache and eyes that were always moving around. The kids who lived at the factory, the kids who went home at the end of the day called them liver-kids and thought that was quite funny, said that Mister Elko's eyes could see through the walls, because he was always the one to catch any of the liver-kids trying to go out at night. He was the only man at the factory that not only recognized every one of the kids, but knew their names, their ages, and how long they'd been at the factory. Like every person who is in charge of children, as long as that person doesn't have a dislike for children, he had his favorites, and although his favorites were not given special treatment, like being exluded from punishment should they deserve a beating, he would, on occasion, invite them to have dinner with him and he would ask them questions about their work and the other children, or sometimes they would just talk about anything. For a long time, almost as long as he could remember, Birley had been one of his favorites, but then a day came when Birley saw something he shouldn't have.

It was assumed that Mister Elko, strict but fair father-figure to the overnight children, also owned the factory that he managed. Such are the assumptions that the young are apt to be led to without outside influence. Of course, nobody ever asked Mister Elko about this, because it was common knowledge after all. Who would question that they were being treated fairly? Some things are just known as fact, after all. That's the way of the world, until something, or someone, makes you think about a different reality. This is how Birley's view of reality was changed, how he lost the occasional dinner with the only father he'd ever known, and why he began plotting a way to escape his life at the factory.

He had been invited to have dinner with Mister Elko that night by way of one of the older kids (typically, if they had no education, older kids ran messages or fetched things for Mister Elko or the overseers). Being invited to dinner was how Mister Elko said he wanted to talk with you. Birley noted with uneasiness that the man he'd noticed earlier in the day was watching from one of the offices again. With a shrug, he put the man out of his thoughts. He would ask Mister Elko about him that evening, but it didn't really concern him, and Mister Elko would probably tell him the same. It was Saturday, which meant the day would end earlier than usual, so at ten minutes until seven everything was starting to wind down. The chasers were clearing the last of the scraps as the cutters were measuring the last ream of cotton going into the loom. As happened occasionally when the cutters were in a hurry to leave, the last bunch of threads were cut while the machine was still turning. Naturally, there were still chasers under the tools when the zealous cutter was trying to finish early. The loose threads were pulled quickly from the shears and whipped every which way upon exiting. Most flew harmlessly high and tangled in the top part of the loom, the part of the loom that had already passed through the combs. A few renegades whipped downward toward the floor where the chasers were crawling on their bellies. Within seconds the tool was shutdown by one of the overseers, but the damage had already been done.

Birley would remember later, mainly in the most vivid dreams of his early life, the amazing amount of blood, and how loud screams get when a person is crazy with pain. He had assisted as best he could, and by the time everyone had been taken to the wagons out front, he was covered in blood. He ran as quick as he was capable, and maybe this once, with the fear of keeping Mister Elko waiting for him, he ran a little faster than he had ever run before. He ignored the curious questions fired his way as he rushed past the mess hall (if they were that curious they could have lended a hand), and sped down the hall to the dorms. There was a wash basin in the corner, and after stripping down to nothing (something rarely done, even when one thought they were alone at the factory) he quickly washed the blood off and changed into clean clothes, throwing the bloodstained workclothes into the trash. They were supplied by the factory anyway.

It would have been faster to cut through the main room, but he couldn't bring himself to go back in there just yet. After the cleaning crew that had been assigned had finished it wouldn't be as difficult, but he couldn't stand seeing that much blood again. He passed the first two doors that would likewise have been faster than the path he finally settle on. He wouldn't be aware of it until he was away from the factory, but it was before he heard Mister Brack, while he was delaying his arrival at Mister Elko's office, that he was first aware of how wrong things were that so many kids were hurt because some other kid was in a hurry.

When he did finally arrive at Mister Elko's office the door was open and there was someone inside with Mister Elko already, and whoever that someone was, they seemed to be very angry because they were yelling. Against every instinct to announce himself, he stood silently by the door, listening to the two men argue. How drastically different his life might have been had he simply followed his instincts and prevented the men from saying things they would typically have not said in front of him.

"I was watching when it happened, Francisco!" The stranger said.

Mister Elko answered, a smile in his voice that typically would have caused a little pride to swell inside Birley, "Amazing wasn't it, the way they all ran to help their fallen comrades? Simply outstanding."

"They are kids, dammit!" Screamed the stranger, anger no longer ambiguous from the yelling, but bared in the sharp delivery of words. "Do you even understand the limitations that even now certain factions are attempting to implement concerning the employment of children? Taking a dozen children to the hospital for major lacerations, not to mention the beating that boy is sure to tell his parents about; these are the situations for which I've been sent to warn you about! They only fuel the fire for those who oppose our highly reduced-cost labor!"

"Shen, please calm down my old friend."

"How can I calm down?" But despite those words, he was no longer yelling. "Need I remind you that this is not your factory? You are not the one that will have to answer to The... to our investors. Please, Francisco, tell me you have things under control, that this situation is well within your grasp."

"Not mine, Shen, not completely. But I have friends everywhere, you remember? Very important friends who watch out for me, and if they do for me, they are doing for you, you see?"

There was a pause, then Mister Elko spoke again, "If your investors need proof, don't try to hide today's little mishap. Tell them what happened, elaborate a little maybe on how bad it was, then show them that nothing changes. No new limitations are placed on our unlimited labor supply. You see?"

"For now it will have to be good enough, won't it? Just take it easy, Francisco, for my sake. I won't give you my list of reasons why I personally feel responsible for these kids, or why I think it's wrong. That's business, and I can play this damn game as well as anyone else. It's just, I've dealt with too much since I left home without worrying about what you're doing across the pond."

"Still calling that frontier collection of wig-wams home? What was it Coatrack?"

"Hatrack, Francisco. Hell, even a kid could remember that."

That was about the time Birley announced himself by stepping through the door, and pretending to be out of breath. With a suspicious look Mister Elko introduced him to his "old friend" Mister Shen Brack. Mister Brack didn't seem suspicious, even gave him some water and thanked him for helping out with the trouble downstairs, like he was talking to an adult. "Nice to meet you" and "Thank you" were the only words he ever spoke to Mister Brack then. Even now, he hasn't said another word to the man who opened his eyes to a different world.

Mister Elko, although he never knew for sure, he was sure of himself that Birley had been sneaking around outside his door listening in. Why this would concern him is anyone's guess, but for those last few months Birley never got invited to dinner again.

[EDIT: Correcting mistakes made by the operating system. I really, really need to learn how to use Unix before I mess something up.]

Name: Bucktrot Mary Simmons

Age: 14

Appearance: Standing just over five feet, she is tall and slender, with full hips and as her former employer stated, "developed handsomely". Her hair is fine and dark, and is kept at a liberal length, most often tied in a tight bun by long years of habit. Her green eyes, on close examination, show a peculiar yellow tint around the edges, both on the outside and around the irises. Since she was very young she has known the reason for the strange coloration, and takes great insult to her heritage when it is pointed out, with one exception (but that can be accounted to a discreet infatuation with the local 'prentice smith)

Knack: She is very quick and precise with her hands, but her knack with sown hexes is just beginning to surface in her mendings at the orphanage.

Background: Bucktrot's early years before the orphanage are not common knowledge, even to Birley with whom she has recently opened up. From Mister Elko at the factory where she worked it can be learned that she began working there at the age of eight while living at home. Problems at home prompted her to request boarding in the dormitory except on Sundays, which she would spend at Church in the morning then at home with her parents in the evening. She was an only child, and it pained her parents, as became obvious if one was to read the letters sent by them to Mister Elko. For whatever reason, they never forced her to stay at home, and never questioned her half-lies that it was too much trouble to walk the two miles to and from the factory each day. By the time she was eleven she was spending even Sundays at the factory with the live-ins, and became isolated from the world in general, talking only to answer questions or to correct one of the girls near her on the line if they were endangering themselves or the weave.

When she was thirteen, an incident occured in Mister Elko's office that sent her running out into the night with tears streaming down her face. She returned four months later with never a word of where she went, but she was clothed in the same factory outfit she wore when she left, and she had a small cut, nearly healed into a fine scar, under her left eye. She had first gone to her house, and tried to tell her father what had happened, thinking he would help, but it was from him that she had received the blow on her cheek. She had immediately run out, despite her mother's pleas to remain in her room at the house. She vowed, during her months away from those that had hurt her, that she would not return to either her old house or the factory, but finally, unable to find anyone willing to hire her, she returned to the factory. Not knowing the validity of her threat to go to the authorities if he ever touched her again, "even brushing up against" her in the halls, or failed to restore her to her tasks, he quickly put her back on the line and assigned her back to her former bunk in the dormitory. Not without assigning a man to assertain the truth about a witness among the boys at the factory.

There had been a witness, though Bucktrot didn't know it when she desperately made the threat. It wasn't a boy, however, but a girl everyone called Sly. Sly was only seven, but she was the fastest crawler at the factory, and was strong enough to climb the poles lining the walls. She didn't know what the poles were for, but using a belt to extend her reach around the pole she would climb to the ledge looking into the offices. She rarely spoke, and couldn't stand being around people, so often found solace sitting on this ledge. She had been the only witness to the inpropriety in the office that night, and finally worked up the courage to whisper this information to Bucktrot from under the weave during work.

"I knows what he did," was all she said, but it was enough for Bucktrot, the emotions that surged through her causing her to cause a tangle in the weave which she had to slow the machine to fix. The two loners, Bucktrot and Sly, had found each other among the multitude, and for them it was as much a miracle as the little man serving dinner to his Messiah. Bucktrot, however, was not the only one to hear Sly's whispers. Two others heard her confidential comforting, the first to make himself known to them was a small boy, a crawler and a sneak, Rowland.

Rowland was an orphan before being "adopted" by Mister Elko. He was supposed to be Elko's ears within the crowd, but Rowland took much more pleasure hoarding small treasures that he would find from the various visitors to the factory, oftentimes from the previous owners' own pockets or handbags. He didn't much care when the rat's nest was found and confiscated by one of the overseers, he would put on a show in front of his "father" and the tears he would shed in his father's presence served a double purpose when he returned to the dorms, as it appeared he received the beating the other boys predicted he would get, leaving none of them the wiser as to his position. Besides, he could always get more things. The only times he ever received beatings, which were plentiful enough anyway, was when he would borrow somethings from his father.

This is why he went, not to Mister Elko, but to Bucktrot and Sly. He just had to know what it was Sly saw. It might be something he would want to keep for himself like Mister Elko's favorite fountain pen that was hidden in the corner of the factory behind one of the many pipes. He soon discovered that they weren't going to tell him what it was, but for the first time he found people that didn't tease him about his awkward speech (baby-talk was the nicest term the other kids used), and took to spending more time with the girls. This of course led to more teasing from the other boys, which in turn made him more resentful of life at the factory.

Shortly after the trio was formed, Bucktrot befriended a little girl who had just recently started at the factory. As a crawler, she had a bad habit of "jumping" when any of the tools she was working under made even the smallest squeak. This resulted in many cuts along her backside, from her shoulders to her ankles. One night, she was in so much pain from the salve the doctor had put on her cuts, that she was crying uncontrollably. Sly, being observant of the people she loathed, had witnessed that the only one that might be able to calm her down, soothe her into a more comfortable state of mind, would be Birley, one of Mister Elko's favorite boys. As observant as she was, she hadn't noticed the indifference that had settled over Birley for the last few months. She quickly fetched the small, older boy and, not soon but sooner than any of them though possible, Susan was sleeping, if not comfortably then contentedly. Birley stayed, despite strict rules to the contrary, in the girl's dorm most of the night, talking in low whispers with Sly and Bucktrot, finally confiding in his plans to leave and find the Shen Brack, the owner of the factory. Bucktrot wondered at the wisdow of this plan, going from one fink to another she thought, but Birley was insistent on that portion of his plans, and finally Bucktrot agreed. Bucktrot had now joined Birley in his plot, Sly and Rowland quickly agreeing to go with her when she asked them. Susan, after that night, was never from far Birley, and he soon added her to his list of escapees.

Fate, despite what some may say, favors no person. Remember there was another who heard Sly's whispers to Bucktrot through the weave? The other was a girl, the weaver next to Bucktrot, who had long been jealous of Mister Elko's attention to Bucktrot. She sat on it for awhile, wanting to discover more of what they had been hiding in conspiratorial whispers. Finally, though, she had something to add on top of it, having seen Sly fetch Birley to the girl's dorm, and then he'd stayed almost all night! It wasn't proper, and having Bucktrot and Birley involved, two of Mister Elko's favorites as far as she could see, was too rich. She went to him the next day, but was disappointed when nothing happened. Of course, her problems were soon to leave her jurisdiction anyway, but she had no knowledge of that, and she was even more sure after no punisment was dealt out that the two of them were doing indecent things with Mister Elko. A little late to have such thoughts, as we've already learned, but nevertheless...

As for Mister Elko, he was angry at the breach, but didn't dare touch Bucktrot, and now that Birley was in league with the tempting Dryad, well, he'd have to wait for confirmation one way or another concerning her supposed witness. However, he knew for a fact that the girl they called Sly was a loner, and surely he could do something about her. But not for this. He'd stage something, something with an overseer perhaps so there would be many witnesses.

Something did happen to Sly, and despite the anger they would feel at themselves later for abandoning her, even if it was with her blessing, leave her behind they did. Forever after did they feel that even with the victory of escape, they had been defeated in the overall scheme of things, for not only had Sly been left behind, but another of their party, the small Rowland, the first to see their eventual new home, would be lost on the border of their ultimate destination.

Written by: Aaron

Age: 24

Description: Aaron is a medium sized young man. He is five foot ten and is one hundred and thirty pounds. Fair and light haired, Aaron steps lightly with the exuberance of youth. Aaron has blue eyes and a small scar on his forehead where a steel guitarra string snapped and whipped him when he was playing.

Relatives: Aaron Andrews is the son of William Andrews, a Barrister and Solicitor from Boston. Aaron quickly made it clear that he had no interest going into his fathers line of work, and at the age of 12 he ran off to New York, never to see his father again.