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| - Vaughton was born and raised through childhood in the LA Boneyard among the twisted skeletons of the city's buildings. His father was a talented looter, but his mother seemed to hold the fact that Jacob had not only been an unnaturally large baby, but a breech birth, against the pair. Jacob only ever saw her once or twice every year and didn't even know she was his mother until he was seven years old. By that point in life, Jacob was roughly the size of a fourteen-year-old and strong enough to drag his father's body into the Boneyard settlement after the older man fell through a weakened floor. He had been killed during the fall when he landed in a stairwell, tumbling down the steps and sustaining a broken neck, lumbar spine and shattering both legs. Vaughton then attempted to make up for
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| abstract
| - Vaughton was born and raised through childhood in the LA Boneyard among the twisted skeletons of the city's buildings. His father was a talented looter, but his mother seemed to hold the fact that Jacob had not only been an unnaturally large baby, but a breech birth, against the pair. Jacob only ever saw her once or twice every year and didn't even know she was his mother until he was seven years old. By that point in life, Jacob was roughly the size of a fourteen-year-old and strong enough to drag his father's body into the Boneyard settlement after the older man fell through a weakened floor. He had been killed during the fall when he landed in a stairwell, tumbling down the steps and sustaining a broken neck, lumbar spine and shattering both legs. Vaughton then attempted to make up for lost time with his mother when she informed him who she was. However, just as in the past, she rejected him, a sad event that likely led to Vaughton's later obsession with behaving like a father-figure to members of the Vaughton Gang (the kind of father who takes you out, gets you drunk and then helps you beat strangers half-to-death). Cast out by his only known family, young Jacob lived the hard life of an orphan in the LA ruins, surviving on the pity and sympathy of strangers until he had managed to pick up enough skills to not only hunt and kill but to read and write his own name. After years of malnourishment, Vaughton came to the realization that sneaking up on a target and ambushing it was far more effective than a blitz attack to shock the victim. He practiced his sneaking well in the hazard-strewn wreckage, even staking the clearly exaggerated claim that he could sneak over broken glass; despite the bragging, though, he was known as a good-enough sneaker for any listeners to merely nod and smile in response. As well as learning how to hunt critters in the darkness, Vaughton learned three crucial skills among the other Boneyard Orphans. He learned how to steal, how to fight, and finally, how to kill. The last time he returned to the Boneyard settlement was to meet his mother one last time before he decided to venture out into the wide world. Once again, she loudly and angrily rejected his attempts at reconciliation. However, this was not the weak, timid boy of the past, and he smashed a whiskey bottle over her head. He left the settlement peacefully after that, declaring a self-imposed exile no one thought would last. A few residents even declared that Vaughton would be found sitting in a building nearby waiting for them to regret his leaving and invite him back (it had happened twice in the past). Fortunately for both the settlers who considered him an unreliable burden, and Vaughton himself, who had never felt welcome, this was the one time he headed far enough north to lose his way back to the settlement in unfamiliar territory. Left with no choice but to press on, Vaughton constantly broadened his skill set as he hunted and stalked over the California wilderness aimlessly. Secretly, he half-hoped to find a settlement to set up a home in, while the rest of him hoped he could live in the wilds forever, with nothing to hold him back. He would later accomplish both of these dreams when he founded the Vaughton Gang and took over the Bolt Hole.
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