I'm Here with my sheet! I wanted to do a charrie at the time of the American Revolution but there isn't a 21st-century person yet so I'm gonna go with my gut and do Hamilton timeline =p

Name: Samuel (previously known as Lydia) Miller

Age (10 - 18): 17

Gender/pronouns: Male, he/him

Year of birth: 1763

Appearance: A short boy with shaggy black hair and soft blue eyes, he is wearing the patriot uniform and with a small scar on his left cheek.

Personality: Typically courteous, loves to take risks (once he went against orders and watched the British for a few hours without telling anyone, he shot an officer and one of the soldiers shot a bullet that grazed his face which is where he got his scar from), curious, loyal, pessimistic (once he got told off by General Washington himself because he muttered under his breath about all of them dying and them loosing the war), observant, logical, shy, all in all his emotions are fairly unstable

Nationality/People (e.g., English, Roman, etc.): American (or British, depends on how you look at it)

Backstory: He comes from a rich Patriotic family that pretends to be loyalists and he joined the rebel army as soon as he could, the rest is TBR

Secrets (optional): He was in love with a British army general but he was killed and Samuel hasn't fully recovered from it yet.

Other: Open to ships!

Ok, we might as well start now. 

Spinning. 

Spinning.

Hazel couldn't tell if she had been whirling around for two seconds, or a century. Her head was foggy, and she was strangely calm. It felt as if she was dreaming, but also wide awake. Her boots were no longer touching the floor. Nor were they touching air. It was as if she was floating in nothingness, drifting through space.

And then all of a sudden, woosh! Hazel landed with a thud in an empty brick courtyard. A stout grey animal with tiny sharp teeth barking around her ankles apparated out of thin air. Hazel screamed. She had never seen a dog before, and she was terrified. The girl tripped backwards and clambered over the brick wall. Desperate to put as much distance between her and the strange creature as possible, Hazel stumbled down the street. It was a long time before she stopped, doubled over, to take a look at her surroundings. "Oh my..." She breathed. 

(Note: I’m changing Wes’s date of birth to 1881.)

~•~

Drops of rainwater dripped from Wes’s soggy hair, falling into his eyes. He grunted and shook his head vigorously, flinging water left and right like a dog shaking itself. The cold rain continued to come down, and his thin, worn, too-small coat didn’t do much to ward off the chill air. 

“Ey!”

Wes turned in the direction of the voice. 

”Ey, Wes!” Ahead, a boy stood under a bridge which was shielding him from the torrent of rain. He motioned for Wes to come closer. Wes broke into a jog and joined the other boy beneath the bridge.

”Ey, Willy,” Wes greeted him, smirking.

“Sure is a’pourin’ out dere, ain’t it?”

Wes nodded, looking back at the falling rain. “Yeah, it’s pourin’.”

“I see ya got yerself a nice shiner dere,” observed Willy, pointing to Wes’s black eye.

Wes gave him a half-grin. “Some mutt tried to swipe my track earlier, so I soaked ‘im. ‘E socked me once er twice, but I ran da sucker off.”

Willy chuckled and gave Wes a friendly punch in the shoulder. “Ain’t nobody oughta mess wit Wes Davis, dat’s fa sure!”

Wes laughed, but it was half-hearted. He’d lied. That wasn’t how he had come about his black eye. “Fa sure. Well, I’ll see ya ‘round, Willy.”

“See ya, Wes.” 

Wes ducked out from under the bridge and back into the beating rain. He trudged through the puddles and stepped into an alleyway. At the end of the alley, he thought he saw something, a light, coming toward him. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, thinking it must have been the rainwater blurring his vision. But the shape grew, a blurry, swirling mass, getting closer. Wes began to get dizzy, and he groaned.

“Not again...” He muttered, running a hand through his hair. He had already suffered one attack that day; the real cause of his black eye. He’d fallen unconscious and when he awoke, the left side of his face throbbed and his eye was swollen and bruised.

Suddenly the world began to spin faster and Wes felt bile rising in his throat. He fell to his knees, clutching his head, which now felt like it was going to burst. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, wiling the awful pain to stop.

And it did.

Blackness.

At first, Wes thought he was unconscious, but then he realized he wasn’t. He was still thinking, and he could feel space around him, he could feel his body. He seemed to be floating in a black void. The pain, dizziness, and nausea—it was all gone. He would’ve thought he was dreaming except that everything felt real—more real than ever. He seemed to have a heightened sense of awareness, of everything going on around him. Before he could wonder about much else, he saw a few colored points of light materialize in the darkness. They began moving, slowly at first, organized, as if performing a choreographed dance. More appeared, and the lights grew, dancing and swirling. He was mesmerized watching them, unable to take his eyes away. They seemed to lull him into a kind of trance. The dots became streaks of light and color, hard to distinguish from one another, swirling together, no longer separate, around and around and around. They twisted and weaved around him, and he had a strange out-of-time feeling for a brief moment, and then the world stopped and he was falling, falling...

Wes was dead. He was absolutely, definitely dead. He had had one of his attacks and it had f8nally killed him. Wes took in a deep breath—and then realized that he couldn’t be dead, or he probably wouldn’t be breathing. 

He opened his eyes. The blue sky stared down at him. He pushed himself up to a standing position and looked around.

He had absolutely no idea where he was. 

Sorry It's so late yall!

Name: Tanner Jenkins

Age: 19

Gender: Male/Straight

Year of birth: 1830

Appearance: Classic side part black hair, dark tan skin, tall. Strong build but on the thinner side. He has brown eyes and a dark complexion. He wears a tucked in button up and jeans and a cowboy hat. 

Agh! I can't finish it right now... sorry!

~Émile

Émile bounced in the saddle as he flew through the forest, glancing behind his back repeatedly despite the fact that there had been no sign of pursuers for hours..  The thick bulging sack slung over his back repeadtedly slammed into his shoulderblade, but he was too full of adrenaline to even notice.   He ran and ran at top speed, faster than the current of the idyllic stream that he was following along.  The terrain along the path would have been much easier than the woodsy riverbank, but he would have been a fool to even be visible from it.  

Thoughts and fears tried to push there way into Émile's mind, but he pushed them out again by filling it with one word.

Run.

Run.

Run. 

He didn't even notice the strange object floating around him until the world started spinning.

Émile landed, off of his horse, on the hard, brick ground.  He lept to his fead, cluthicng his sack and glancing wildly around.  The surroundings were completely different from the ones he was just in.  Had some witchcraft transported him?  Was he seeing things?  A young man was standing there a couple of yards away, and a girl was on the ground looking dazed.  Both in clothes of the likes he had never seen before.  Neither of them looked particularly aggressive, but neither had the women who stormed the Versailles and look where that got them... 

Hurridly thanking St. Christopher silently for his transport, which he had decided was a strange miraculous blessing, Émile glanced at the two people and booked it over to the brick wall.  He used a barrel made of some foreign material as a step and lept over, landing in the street and starting to run without missing a beat.  He ran through the streets until he came across a young girl in clothing that he recognized.  

"Pardon me young maiden," Émile dipped a polite bow that signified good manners, but not social standing, "do you know what town we are in?  I was travelling with a procession of merchants, and I am afraid I have been sepertated," he lied. 

The white plum blossoms twirled around Min's head, getting caught in her hair and tickling against her skin. The early morning sun shone down on the garden, flitering through the trees and tall stalks of green bamboo. 

Min took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of flowers and dew drenched plants. She felt most at peace here, alone, without the whispered comments or hidden glances that still haunted her after two years. 

The blossoms that whirled around her head hid the object that was slowly approaching her until it was only a few yards away. When she saw it, she took a step back, cautious and a little afraid as she could not discern what the object was. 

It came closer, and as it did the world around Min began to spin. She gasped and doubled over as it spinner faster and faster. Her feet left the ground and she was floating weightless, spinning through a wide expanse of utter nothingness.

Panic coursed coursed through her body, making her pulse thunder in her ears. The feeling of weightlessness unnerved her, the inability to feel anything around her messing with her senses. She didn't scream because she doubted it would do anything, but her eyes were wide open and her breathing was quick and forced.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of spinning through the void, Min felt her feet touch the ground and light once again entered her vision. 

As soon as her slippered feet made contact with the earth, her knees crumpled and she fell flat on her face. 

Bang! The sound of the gunshot echos in Samuel's ears as he fires his gun at the British before dropping down to reload. he pokes his head out of the trench and is greeted with the sight of one of his closest friends, also a girl* who wanted to help in the war get shot down by a volley of gunfire from the british troops. I feel my stomach rise to my throat as I slump back down to the ground and furiously wipe at the tears forming in my eyes. This isn't the time for mourning Samuel I scold myself as I reload my gun, just before I fire a hand pulls me down and I whirl around, prepared to fight but it is only General Mercer.

"I have a favor to ask of you, would you run this message to General Laffeyette?"

"Y-yes General Mercer, Sir!" I stammer out as I put my gun across my back and I stuff my knives back into their sheathes. 

"You're a good kid Samuel."

This comment catches me by suprise, How does he know my name? Why is he telling me this? Does he think I won't return? I shake my head at that last one, Of course I'll return, it's my duty and I still have to tell Emma's family that...

"T-thank you Sir," I hesitate "may I ask why you tell me that?"

General Mercer folds his arms behind him as he turns away from me "You are aware that you may not come back from this mission, correct?" When I nod he continues "The British are becoming more aware of the messages between Generals, they wish to stop communication between us."

I open my mouth to speak but a cannon booms above me and I duck down to avoid being hit by the debries fom the mini explosion. The other Militiamen are yelling loudly now, dashing around us like we aren't even there, though some still nod their heads at General Mercer as they pass. They ignore me entirely. 

"That is why I am hesitant to send you, you are but a child and-"

"I'll take the mission sir."

"Pardon?"

"I'll deliver your message to General Laffeyette."

"Good, good," He hands me the note. "Go now, while their attention is on us."

I nod and run of towards the woods, I met a patrol of redcoats during my run and hid for a while. After running for hours I finally found one of General Laffeyette's friends and hand over the note, I'm so exausted I can barely stand but I have to get back to my station.

I have to go and see if they are okay, if they got killed. The second I hand over the note I run back into the forest, towards the battle, towards them. 

I get about 2 miles before a shooting pain goes through my side and I am hit by a sensation of dizziness mixed the feeling of falling through the air. I close my eyes, This is it, I've been shot, I'm going to die. I am falling for what feels like hours before I hit the ground at last, it doesn't feel like I'm dead, the pain is gone at least. I crack open my eyes and yelp in suprise at what I see.

*Women weren't allowed to fight so some dressed up as men and went out to fight anyways 

-Charlotte-

Dull colors whipped past Charlotte. She didn't pay any attention. Her blue-and-black outfit was the only colorful thing in this smoky area. Something whistled past her arm. It struck a hole in a decaying building. Ah, they've got shotguns, Charlotte thought.

She glanced back, just in time, as she could see a bullet coming, as if in slow motion, thanks to her glasses. She leaped up, flipped, and landed back on her hoverboard after the bullet had gone past her.

Earth was so polluted these days, you needed glasses to see anything. As well as an air filter. Charlotte's filter had been surgically implanted - it was pointless not to have it implanted. In a moment of distraction, a bullet struck her arm. It had been going at such a fast speed, it just went right through.

"Arghh!" Charlotte set her hoverboard to the fastet autopilot there was, and examined her arm. It was bleeding thickly. There was a clean hole. Charlotte had just thought of a ridiculous thing to do. Ridiculous and dangerous.

She pulled a tube-like thing from her pocket - the size of her wound, and with plenty of regret, poked it through the wound. It stopped the bleeding, but now the pain was so blinding, that a light was swimming around Charlotte's eyes.

The light grew brighter, and brighter, and Charlotte was suddenly enfulged in it.

~~~ 

Hazel looked up. There was a young man standing before her. She breathed a sigh of pure relief. This boy was the only thing familar about this strange place.

"Miss?" The boy repeated.

Hazel suddenly realised how odd she must look in her grubby, sweaty apron gaping at the strange boy. Hurriedly, she bobbed a quick curtsey and murmered "Oh, I see." The truth was, Hazel had been living around decievers and pick pockets long enough to know a lie when she saw one. Whatever her reasons were, Hazel decided then and there that this boy would have nothing to do with her. But maybe...maybe he had something to do with these odd cirumstances.

"I'm truelly sorry, sir, but I ain't aware of our whereabouts. I s'pose we're still in London. I've never been in this part of town before to tell the truth."

The young man nodded uneasily. He looked disappointed. Despite her aquaintance being untrustworthy, Hazel felt a tinge of guilt. She wished she could help this boy. He seemed just as lost as she was. 

~•~

Wes squinted in the bright sunlight, trying to piece together what was going on. Then he noticed he wasn’t the only one there. There was a boy who looked close to his age with a scar on his cheek, a girl who appeared to be a few years younger than him standing a few paces away, who both looked equally dazed and confused, and another girl near his feet lying facedown. She seemed to be unconcious.

They appeared to be in some sort of brick courtyard, near a brick wall. The younger girl crossed to the front of the courtyard, and Wes heard her gasp. 

“Come look at this!” She exclaimed. “Introductions later!”

Wes trotted over to her and gasped. It was like nothing he’d ever seen.

It was a city, that much he was sure of. But nothing like the New York he was used to. The buildings were huge and tall, taller even than what he’d seen. Everything shimmered, bright and metallic, reflecting the sunlight. People walked about on the streets, chattering. Most looked ordinary enough to him, but a few had brightly colored hair or piercings all over their faces. And they all wore strange clothing. 

He was so focused on the city he didn’t notice at first that the small girl was holding out a wet handkerchief to him. Slightly confused, he took it, and then remembered his swollen eye. He dabbed it with the handkerchief and then shoved it in the back pocket of his trousers.

The girl crossed back to the brick wall, and the other boy followed her. Still mesmerized by the sparkling buildings, Wes hesitated a moment, and then reluctantly joined the others.

“Um, how do you do?” The girl said nervously. Wes realized she must have been talking to him. “I-I’m Ellamarie, but please call me Elle.”

Wes grunted in reply. ”They call me Wes.” 

Just then, the young woman lying on the ground groaned and sat up, rubbing her head.

”Miss, are you okay?” Elle asked her, taking a tentative step forward.

”I...” the young woman squinted and glanced about. “Where am I?”

Wes stepped forward. “That’s a good question. Ey, does anybody ‘ave any idea where we are, or what’s goin’ on?”  

No one said anything. Elle shook her head.

”Well neither do I. But I saw some fella’ climb over the wall and go that way,” Wes jerked his head in the direction the boy had gone. “And maybe he knows somethin’ we don’t. I don’t know ‘bout you lot, but I’m goin’ after ‘im.”

Wasting no time, Wes turned and scrambled over the brick wall with the ease of a squirrel climbing a tree, and hopped down to the other side. He loped off in the direction he saw the other boy go, and turned down an alley. There stood the boy, talking to a small girl. Wes crossed his arms and cleared his throat.

~•~

Okay, a few questions/notes. 1) I was assuming Elle was talking to Wes when she introduced herself, but it was a bit unclear so please correct me if I’m wrong. 2) I think we need to decide where our charries were transported to. It’s obviously a city, probably somewhere in America, but we probably should decide exactly where. 3) I hope I didn’t control anyone’s charries too much, just trying to move the plot forward. Please let me know if I ever control any of your charries too much or make them act out of character. 4) I’m having so much fun writing Wes’s accent xD