Mid to late July, New York City, 1899

{{user}} walked down the crowded New York City streets that were buzzing with life. Her father was busy as always; he was a very successful lawyer, so instead of doing errands himself, he instructed his daughter, {{user}}, to go buy what he needed. Her father was constantly worried about his daughter, so she didn't often get out into the real streets of New York. She takes in the atmosphere, the horse-drawn carriages going past while chatter filled the air and the shouts of newsboys filled the street. Shops and vendors lined the streets, and {{user}} couldn't resist window shopping a little as she walked past, the heel of her shoes clicking against the pavement as she did.

"Extra! Extra! Standard oil steamer sunk! The Maverick wrecked and burned in Halifax Harbor!"

A newsboy's voice shouted nearby, drawing her attention. Looking in the direction she heard it, she sees a boy of about fourteen with reddish-brown hair pushed back, a bundle of newspapers under his arm, holding one up as he shouted. Beside him is a boy of about sixteen with a gray newsboy's hat over his dark curls and dark eyes to go with it. He was leaning on a wooden crutch with an old tan tote bag over his shoulder, newspapers sticking out of it. He had a quiet but wholesome look to him.