Lyd's Archive (7/'15 to 6/'18)’s
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(group member since Mar 23, 2016)
Lyd's Archive (7/'15 to 6/'18)’s
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from the ~*ⒸⓄⓂⒺⓉⓈ!*~ group.
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“So will they understand me?” Alexander asked again.Pierre nodded. “Sadly, most people here have rejected their heritage and most speak English and French to seem advanced. Even though we’re so far behind. Ignore the glitter, Mr… Hamilton, this world is broken.”
✰✰Pierre’s wife, Helene greeted them at the door of his house.
“Ohh…” She said, “Vous êtes charmante. Tu t’appelles comment?”
“What?” Alexander asked.
“She’s asking what your name is,” Pierre said.
“Alexander Hamilton ,” He said. “My name is Alexander Hamilton.”
“Ohh....,” Helene replied. “Well, there is a new opera coming demain, tomorrow.” Perhaps you would enjoy seeing it with Dolokhov and myself.”
Alexander nodded. “Alright.”
For the present, he would be occupied with the Bezukhov library. It would take a while for him to read everything he could get his hands on.
✰✰The carriage was bigger than anything Alexander had ever ridden in. Not to say that the carts one rides in St. Croix are all that big. The seats were plush and red and actually comfortable to sit in. From what he had seen on the map on Pierre’s desk, the opera was a few blocks from their house. However, Helene stopped a bit before the halfway point between their house and the theater. She stepped out of the carriage and knocked on the front door of some house.
A few minutes later, she came out with a man, who kissed her hand and started talking amiably with her in French. It didn’t take me long to figure out what was going on.
“Is my brother coming, Dolokhov?” she asked.
The man Alexander presumed to be Dolokhov shrugged. “He’ll probably be late.”
Alexander looked around to find the carriage driver gone.
“Could you…” Helene began.
Alexander nodded. Even though he didn’t know the next thing about carriage driving.
No one said anything the rest of the walk towards his carriage. Hopefully the driver wasn’t drunk. At least the horses weren’t.
Pierre nodded. “Caribbean, eh? So that’s where you’re from. English colonies, I presume.”Alexander nodded. “We were bound for New York. But then as storm came and I was pulled into the water. I guess it must have brought me here.”
“You’re not drunk?” He asked.
“I’ve never been,” Alexander replied.
Pierre held Alexander’s hands in his larger, hairier ones. “You’re not shaking either.”
Several heads turned around to stare.
“Kto ti?” a man asked drowsily.
“Ya ne vi ponimayet,” muttered another man.
“I suggest you get out of here, son,” Pierre grumbled. “I should too. This is no place for an idealistic young man like you. Come with me.”
Alexander nodded slowly. “Will most people here understand me?” He asked.
Pierre sighed deeply. “This is a world where people reject their heritage. They don’t want to be Russian, like the peasants who eke out a living tied to the land. They’re forced to work for the landlords who get all the crops they harvest…”
“That’s unbelievable! Why do they do that?”
Pierre shook his head. “I was like you once,” he muttered to himself. “But that’s the way it’s always been. We never had a renaissance here. But no one has the heart to change things here….”
“Nyet,” he replied.Alexander furrowed for a second, taking in more of the drunken men’s speech. It was then he realized they were not merely drunk but drunk in a foreign language and even the partially sane man with the book was speaking Russian.
He frowned. “Alexander… Hamilton, eh? You must be English, only you appear more likely to be Spanish.”
Alexander gazed puzzled around the bar.
“Where am I?”
The man with the book sighed. “Welcome to Moscow. I’m Pierre Bezukhov.” He held out his shaking hand. “There’s a war going on.” He paused. “You’re Alexander, huh? Like our Tsar.”
“Tsar?” Alexander asked. “Isn’t Catherine the Great still empress?”
Pierre looked puzzled.
“You’re lying.” He said. “Either that or wherever you came from must be incredibly backward. The year is 1812 and Napoleon is nearing Moscow closer and closer every day.”
[Pierre]
Alexander’s head spun with the shock. First of all, he found himself in a bar in Russia and then it turned out to be forty years in the future. How did he not notice that before? The men were not wearing wigs of any sort and their coats and breeches looked a good deal different from what he’d seen in St. Croix or what he had expected to see in New York. There was something in the way they talked and carried themselves that also differed from anything Alexander had seen.
“I don’t know where I am,” Alexander told Pierre. “I don’t even know how I got here. I was on a boat to New York and there was this big storm in the Caribbean that blew our ship off course and I fell into the water… only to get here. And I suddenly realize I’m not wet. And I’m standing here. I guess it must have taken me into the future.”
Alexander Hamilton
The waves rocked the ship back and forth in way that gave Alexander Hamilton a great deal of trouble sleeping. The ship was supposed to (view spoiler) leave about four weeks ago, but a number of things had delayed it. Winter, Alexander ventured, would come soon, and with it winter storms. That wouldn’t be good. He glanced across the room at the rest of the people on board, all asleep. The ship jerked forward. Alexander was restless. He might as well see what was going on.
Silently, he tiptoed out onto the deck and peered over the edge. A huge whirlpool had formed in front of him. He reached forward.
It pulled him in.
[Alexander]
Alexander arrived in a bar. Even though it was noon, men had already begun getting drunk and standing on tables. Maybe he had arrived in New York, where he was supposed to go on that ship. Maybe all that happened with the storm on the ship was really just a nightmare.
He found a man a bit older than me standing away from the drunken hordes. His face was red and he had a shot glass next to his book that he held in shaking hands.
The other men in the room were chattering in an unintelligible manner. They must all have been drunk because Alexander couldn’t make out a single world they said.
He approached the man with the book.
“Pardon me,” he asked, “but are you Aaron Burr, sir?"
WARNING:I make no claims to this story's historical accuracy, lack of cliche or accuracy to Hamilton's life or War and Peace, which I have not read. Most of it is done by common sense, a faint grasp of this period, and the musicals for which this is a fanfic 
Part One:
ᗯᕼᗩT Iᖴ....
Alexander Hamilton's ship never made it to "1776, New York City" and instead fell through a time portal in to "Nineteenth century Russia" where "Natasha, is young and Andrey isn't here"?
ᗯᕼᗩT Iᖴ....
Natasha Rostova never went to the ball, and never fell for Anatole Kuragin - none of that - because of a mysterious stranger in outdated clothes that ends up in Moscow the day before.
ᗯᕼᗩT Iᖴ....
Sonya Rostova found love?
ᗯᕼᗩT Iᖴ....
A crazy theater geek made this all up for real?
QuestionsChandeliers and Caviar, the war can't touch us here! (A book where there is a war/revolution, etc. but the main character(s) can't care less)
Entered that door with all their teeth and hair, and left it toothless and bald? (A book where the main character starts out naive, vain, immature etc. and ends up with a better understanding of their world)
The Private and Intimate life of the House (a book where you want to know more about the characters' daily lives)
Everyone has always liked me. (A stuck-up character who suffers a blow to their ego)
You and I and No One Else (a classic and unquestionably perfect romance)
Grotesque and amazing (a book you loved and hated at the same time)
Natasha Lost (a book world you got totally "lost" in)
The duel (favorite character feud, rivalry)
Such a shame to bury pearls in the country (a good but obscure book)
Caught in the wave of history (characters at the time of a major historical event but not in it)
It can't be that she loves him, it can't be (horrible "OTP"/instalove)
Sonya Alone (underrated supporting character)
Places not on any maps (favorite fantasy realm not Earth)
In My House (overprotective but well-meaning mother-figure)
There's a war going on (a very simple line in a book that conveys a lot of emotion)
Now blossoming into a new life (an ending to a series/standalone that makes you wish for more)
Yeah!
look them up :)
Hello. MynameisnatalyandIlikechatthreadsalot. SomepeoplesayItalkTOOLOUDORTOOFAST.
I don't think you've heard of a lot of the rest, though Prairie Empire is kind of old-school and the two musicals both sound extremely strange but amazing at the same time
thanks
sure. just not too many
me too. I'm just not into electronic. The best for me are Hamilton and the Great Comet of 1812 (musicals) bands Coldplay and Prairie Empire and artists Lorde, Sara Bareilles, Sara Groves, and Ed Sheeran
thanks. create threads too
stay active guys :)
I'm hoping to get a wattpad soon so I can read stuff like that but I'm procrastinating on asking.
Prairie EmpireShaina Taub
Gelsey Bell
Sara Groves
Nice.I ship Philip Hamilton and Natasha Rostova, in regards to mine
A book tag is a series of questions where the answer is either a book, series, or character and is opinion based. Traditionally, they are done as YouTube videos, but we can write some here. An example book tag question would be "What series did you read in less than one week?" but themed book tags will differ a bit from this idea. For example, in Maureen Keavy's Hamilton the Musical book tag, the first question was "The Room Where it Happens (a song from Hamilton): What book world would you put yourself into?"
