Young Writers Society

The year is 1776, and the setting is a small tavern. Hamilton, the boy genius with plans to start a revolutionize who isn't throwing away his shot, is meeting with Burr, the quiet talk-less-smile-more guy who gets through life by keeping his head down. Later enter Hercules Mulligan, the self-proclaimed "dad" of the group and the rough tailor who's joining the war to socially advance and take his shot, and Lafayette, a fast-talking Frenchman about to whip the British all the way back to their tiny island across the sea.

Join the Hamilsquad (or as any other character, mentioned in the play Hamilton or not), for historical fiction fun and tons and tons of Hamilton references, plus time to rejoice in the nerdiness with fellow Hamilfans(copyright). What could be better? Lin-Manuel Miranda would be proud.

Rules:
1.We all know the Hamilsquad wasn't exactly PG, and Mulligan especially was rough, so I will limit this to PG-13. References are allowed, and some violence is allowed. Swearing is also allowed.

2. No god-modding.

3. Be courteous.

4. All other RP rules apply

5. No killing off other people's characters unless you have their permission and mine.

6. Have fun, and fangirl!

((Tag your fellow Hamilfans to come and join in the fun!)

Alexander Hamilton yanks open the door to the tavern and enters, breathing in the smell of alcohol and musty air. He scans the room, looking around for a certain man, infamous around campus for his ability to graduate in 2 years instead of the regular 4.

He sees no one, and slumps his shoulders in despair. He had much to discuss with this fellow academic whiz and revolution enthusiast.

Aaron Burr, the man, the myth, the legend, walks into the tavern, seating himself at the bar counter. He orders some ale and awaits the delivery of his drink. Pulling out a piece of parchment, he begins to scribble ideas into it absent-mindedly.

Hamilton spots the prodigy Aaron Burr sitting alone at a table, writing on some sheet of paper. His eyes brighten, and he approaches Aaron Burr. "Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?"

((I swear @Sheytato if you mess this up I will find you. And I will make you a baked Sheytato))

Burr puts the glass of ale down, rolls up the parchment, and turns to the young man beside him with a raised eyebrow. "That depends. Who's asking?"

((I know, I know))

Hamilton laughs nervously. “Oh, sure. Sir, I’m Alexander Hamilton, I’m at your service, sir. I have been looking for you.”

"I'm getting nervous."

"Sir, I heard your name at Princeton. I was seeking an accelerated course of study when I got sort of out of sorts with a buddy of yours. I may have punched him, it's a blur, sir. He handles the financials?"

Burr spits out his drink. "You punched the bursar?"

Alexander looks at his feet sheepishly. "Yes, I wanted to do what you did, graduate in two and join the revolution. He looked at me like I was stupid—I'm not stupid. So how'd you do it? How'd you graduate so fast?"

((@Sheytato where art thou and also if you don't want to stick to the lyrics you don't have to, we had a nice long lyric fangirl together so I'm cool with whatever now))

"It was my parent's dying wish before they passed."

((nah I'll stick to them, just missed the notification))

((Yep np))

Alexander slaps his forehead. "You're an orphan! Of course! I'm an orphan. God, I wish there was a war. Then we could prove that we're worth more than anyone bargained for."

"Can I buy you a drink?"