Jakob Early
From Changeling Venue
| Seeming | Wizened Smith |
|---|---|
| Court | Summer Court •••• |
| Freehold | The Freehold of Unturned Stones |
| Player | Nathan Emery |
Contents |
Overview
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Alias(es): Hieronymus Isadore Jakoby Early, Esquire
Age: Early 30s (apparent)
Concept: Paraphernalic Technofetishist
Physical description: Jakob's mask differs little from his mien in most cases. Those who can see through the Mask will note that he appears constructed or somehow artificial, yet unable to pin exactly how. There is something decidedly goblin and hedgespun about him. His wardrobe is startlingly modern for someone so antiquated, though in formal events he will come in full, "period" garb. Much of his style can be dated to the late 1800's to early 1900's, though there are elements of what could have been as opposed to what actually was. "Steampunk" is often the most appropriate term.
Story
Current Activities:
Jakob is currently entertaining a functional workshop in Marion, IL, where he is rising in popularity amongst the local Summer courtiers. Once Thomas Kunn vanished, he started making a more public push for Summer King; an endeavor unfortunately hindered by his tendency to lose entire weeks to his work. When the crown manifested for Cadmus Clay instead, Jakob turned his attention to the freehold's Knights as Cadmus' Knight Commander.
Merit Details:
- The heavy, torrid heat of a boiler on the edge of critical overload emanates from Jakob during times of high stress or emotional intensity. Sometimes the steam of an internal heat rises from him when he activates a Contract. The industrial sounds of gears and hydraulic pressures can be heard when near him. (Summer Mantle 4)
Background:
My name, which I called myself once in a past life, is Hieronymus Isadore Jakoby Early, Esquire. These days, such a name does less to demonstrate the status of oneself and merely sounds absurd. As such, you may call me Jakob Early. That’s Jakob with a “K”. Perhaps it is a bit prudish, but I feel that small detail sets me apart from the rest of the world’s Jacobs... and make no mistake that I am set apart. No, that is not the statement of an arrogant man, nor one of privileged blood. That is a statement of fact, as defined by the cultural norms of this world. I am set apart because I am no longer human.
I was born to a world that this one scarcely remembers properly. The year was 1885. It was late September, and the place was Boston, Massachusetts. My early life amongst the Early family was not unlike the life of any other young boy of the era. My truest love came in the form of books, and the budding genre of science fantasy as brought to life in the works of Jules Verne, Hugo Gernsback and H.G. Wells. I spent many summer days traveling to the center of the Earth, or the bottom of the ocean, in my mind. Sometimes I would act out my fantasies in the forest outside town, exploring rock crevices and tirelessly searching for a cavern in which to lead an expedition of my own into the prehistoric world that I knew lived just beneath our feet. More than once my boyish games would get me into more trouble than I was prepared for. Missed dinners, angry parents, cuts, scrapes and bruises were the primary concerns of my life at that time.
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Alibris, as it turned out, was a hobgoblin Jack Ketch of sorts, though his purpose was the fetching of potential slaves… or as he called them, “employees”… for a particularly eldritch member of the Gentry who called itself Desta Adon, a being of both organic and mechanical form, yet neither. I once got the impression that this name wasn’t totally accurate, but merely the most appropriate pronunciation in the spoken language of the Earth-realm. “Desta Adon” apparently means “perfected form”, or perfect machine, which is the most adequate description of the being that I’ve been able to formulate. The truest form of it’s name came is actually a complex alchemical symbol designed to imply something which is simultaneously both blueprint and product, which is apropos given Desta’s self-ordained quest, which I shall go into later… but I digress…
The university and the façade as an esteemed but forgettable professor was a ruse designed by Alibris to root out potential employees for Desta’s laboratory. He offered me a place in the final works of Desta’s master plan as one of his (Alibris used to refer to Desta with the male pronoun) many assistants. Refusal of the offer, as was detailed to me, would result in my evisceration. As this was an alternative I was sorely inclined to accept, I agreed to go with Alibris to Desta’s workshop. I admit that much of my enthusiasm to assist and comply was reliant upon my boyish desire to finally find the path that led to the center of the Earth. That journey would prove to be far less exciting than Jules Verne ever made it seem to be. Apparently, as I have learned since my return to this world, to go willingly with one’s abductor is both unusual and an implication of traitorous intent. Thusly, I do not often mention the circumstances of my abduction; only that I was abducted.
Desta’s realm was unlike anything I could have ever imagined at the time. Not merely a workshop, but a modern day New York City powered by steam and clockwork. Mechopolis. The realm of the creature Desta Adon. The skies were black with soot and smoke from the foundries that powered the massive turbines, which kept the entire realm sheathed with power and light. Mechanical marvels and monsters roamed the streets in pack, some with missions and others seemingly acting on their own free will. Mechanical flying machines filled the skies, and mechorg horrors roamed the labyrinthine streets. Not even the landscaping was entirely organic. This was my dream, and it scared the Hell out of me. My initiation to the world of the true fae was a scarring experience. My mortal mind was incapable of processing the veracity of this new reality, and in a very short time I lost parts of myself that I would never again regain. Alas, those were the parts of myself which were quintessentially human in nature, and without them the essence of the faerie rushed in like an unstoppered river flooding a canyon. This may be the reason they claim we changelings lack souls. Were I a man of religion I may be qualified to speculate further on this matter. I am, however, a man of science, and scientifically speaking, all I can say is that I am no longer human because of no other reason than prolonged exposure to both this realm and it’s master.
Most of my durance in the realm of the fae has long since dissolved like a dream into the subconscious places of my mind, but what I do remember is assisting Desta’s other workers in the construction of machines most fantastic. While I do not remember what was to be the end result of these efforts, I do remember that our labors had purpose, and it likely had something to do with Desta’s master design document. Though I never laid eyes ion it myself, rumor had it that Desta’s ultimate goal was to build the alleged Hieronymus machine; a mechanical construct whose blueprint is the machine itself. How this played into Desta’s ultimate goal, that of mechanical perfection, is something I don’t fully understand. The methods and motives of the Others are rarely sensible by our standards in any event. How long I’d been in the being’s world, I’m not entirely sure, but it seems that approximately fifteen years is nearly correct. I was twenty when I was taken by Alibris, and near as I can tell I am now around thirty-five years. To be honest, I was kept so busy that the years simply flew by.
Something must have reminded me of my old life, though, because I distinctly remember the overwhelming urge to go home despite not realizing I wasn’t there, let alone knowing where it might be. I asked by fellow workers, though none knew what I was talking about. I referenced Mechopolis’s infinite databanks, but without results. Finally, I resolved myself to simply ask Desta itself if I could be excused. The answer, of course, was a profound negative, but worth the try anyway. Whatever happened in the months (years?) following that was violent. My connection to the faerie is not strong enough to bring those memories to the surface, but I feel that I may have been party to a resistance movement of some sort. That would certainly explain my ability to handle a pistol, which I’m quite certain I did not possess in my previous life as a human being.
Then one day I simply discovered a way out. It came in the form of a most curious hatch on the ceiling of a massive boiler room. Using the piping network as a sort of jungle gym, my assigned regiment and I climbed to it and opened it. In the most astonishing demonstration of the warping of space-time that is typical of the Arcadian realms that I have ever witnessed, sticking out heads upwards through the portal found us hanging upside down from the ceiling of the room on the other side. It was as if gravity, and all of the universe with it, had reversed suddenly at the point of this entrance. Climbing, or falling, depending on your perspective, we entered into this other realm and immediately remembered that we all had homes. With Mechopolis behind us, and the entirety of the Hedge in front of us, we fled. This world is what we found on the other side.
I’m not certain that I felt more comfortable or secure in this world than I did in Mechopolis, but even as my mind struggled to comprehend what I was seeing, it was dissolving what I remembered of Arcadia. This was not the world I left behind. Steel and cobblestone had been replaced by glass and smog. The very plant life seemed manufactured. Moreover, everything was louder. Nothing was the same. I managed to locate a newspaper, though I’m not sure how I did so. It read “September 12, 2003”. Ninety-eight years, six months and twenty-seven days since I left this world, I had finally returned… but I’ll be damned if it was still home.
My traveling companions seemed to acclimate to this new world much faster than I did. I learned quite a lot from the other changelings who made the Freehold of Unturned Stones their home. I learned of their Courts, and even joined one myself (thanks in no small part to the urgings of one Thomas Kunn). Much of my time was consumed by my research into the nature of the creatures called “fetches” (their artificially autonomous nature still astonishes me). More specifically, I exhausted all means of tracing what happened to my own fetch. I felt that to learn of it’s fate would help me find closure.
The creature apparently lived my life, albeit half as enthusiastically as I would have myself. It continued to work at MIT until graduation, then accepted increasingly mundane offers at increasingly smaller universities until it’s life ended due to old age in the budding town of Marion, Illinois, as a member of the Southern Illinois University (Carbondale campus) faculty, which is incidentally where I find myself today. My fetch’s life ended in Illinois, and that’s where I intended to start mine anew.
I am Hieronymus Isadore Jakoby Early, Esquire. Courtier of the Iron Spear, prestidigital datamancer and purveyor of paraphernalic technofetishism. You may call me Jakob Early.
Motley
Jakob currently has no motley, though he's worked with Rock and Clay in the past.
Allies
- Jakob has found common ground with Madeline Anne McKeon of St. Louis. Both are from a similar period in time, though from opposite coasts.
- Jakob has been known to accept contract work from The Black Donal, though the nature of this work is usually kept in confidence.
- Jakob Early and Thomas Kunn shared the soldier's spirit, and worked well together before Thomas's departure from Marion.
- Jakob has a working relationship with Cadmus Clay, and may have been influential in Cadmus' leaving the Winter Court for the Iron Spear.
- Jakob and Phineas Frank spend long nights in discussion of all things mechanical.
- Members of Jakob's regiment from Arcadia are presumably still alive, somewhere.
Enemies
- While not enemies, per se, Jakob and Lojinx have never really seen eye to eye. Lojinx thinks Jakob is reckless and will get everyone killed, and Jakob thinks Lojinx is a coward and will disappear quietly one day when his Keeper finds him undefended and alone.
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Character Inspirations
Steamboy (anime)
Tin Man (miniseries)
Shadowrun (RPG)
Datamancer.net (website)
The Difference Engine (book)
Automated Alice (book)
Iron Kingdoms (RPG)
Quotes
"The past doesn't concern me, nor does the future. What I dabble in is what might have been."
Rumors
Jakob's Seeming may be Wizened, but he's actually a Manikin.
The real Jakob never came back from Arcadia. The person you know is a fetch.
Jakob has more than just skill in common with the Soldier kith.
Jakob used to be Autumn Court.
