(Random chapter)

Skeeter groaned, looking for Phillip Schuyler. They turned the corner, where most of the Schuyler family had been formerly. "Mr. Schuyler?"

He rose his head, looking the redhead over. "Can I help you?" 

"I would like to ask you to join the other generals in the theater is that is alright."

"Oh, of course." The man rose to his feet, dusting himself off. Skeeter smiled, moving to the side so he could exit the room. Schuyler smiled, moving his way down the hall, soon being overtaken by Skeeter. Around, they could hear people talk, Philip almost shocked to see the redhead shape shift into a raven-haired female in baggy greens and browns, saluting another woman in similar colors before shifting back into the redheaded male that had greeted him. 

"What in the-"

"Oh- my apologies... It is this ability that I have. I'm able to change shape to match the time period I am in. She was from the 1900s... Around a large war that had taken place, World War 2." Their explanation was brief as they finally stopped before the theater room. "The generals are seated to the middle row. Washington, Lee, and Montgomery-"

"Montgomery is here?" The man's brows furrowed as he stared into the dim room. "Who else?" 

Skeeter took a deep breath. "There's a few other generals from both sides. I've considered bringing in Lord Stirling, Pulaski, Arnold, von Steuben, Gage, Burgoyne, Gates-..." They paused, recounting the ones they've already named, "Hell- a few others as well. Though, I haven't really had the patience of gathering them- and there's really no relevance for them right now."

"So, you're planning on bringing them in later?"

"I thought of doing so, sir." 

The former general nodded slowly, stepping into the theater, moving to join the other colonial generals. Skeeter's brows furrowed as they stared over them. Washington, Greene, Knox, Montgomery, Lee, and now Schuyler.

They walked down the pathways, moving back onto stage. "My apologies for the delay. I know many of you must either be waiting for the next song- or perhaps something else. Gentlemen, ladies, would anyone like to ask a question?"

Lafayette stood, smiling. "Well, we see that you still have amazing theatrical performances to, well, entertain. But, what else do you have... I know in the states duels had been fully made illegal-..."

"Well, most duels. People still participate in fencing- and sometimes, other martial arts, where dueling is accepted, and typically no one dies. That is... usually. Back when boxing was a big deal, people signed a document agreeing that if they die, it's not anyone's fault but their own. And various men died in the ring." Skeeter explained. "Other than that form of entertainment, we have things that... None of you ever got to see invented. Like this-" They signaled to the projection. "This is modern technology at it's finest. Colored, and able to support complete movement. It's a projection of light and programming that allows for this to work. And it can be on a small screen- or a big one- like this!" 

Laurens stood now. "About fencing... is it the same as our time?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it a gentlemanly sport. It's more of a friendly feud in the modern day. It was more common for the French people to duel with fencing during your time- especially with the denoted design of the Renaissance rapier." Skeeter sat down on the edge of the stage with a smile, swinging their legs back and forth. "Now, with modern fencing, there are three weapons that people can use. Marquis, might I ask you to step on the stage?"

The Frenchman grinned, hurrying to join his acquainted friend. "Greetings, friend... How might I help you?" 

Skeeter stood back on their feet, summoning two swords into their hands. Laf was familiar with them, both rapiers. He took one, watching as the person before him got into position, as if challenging him. "I do not expect to win, truly. But, I would like to see where I do stand. I've practiced here and there with sticks against... my siblings... and earned multiple lectures..." They explained. 

Lafayette smiled, placing an arm behind his back as he also got into position. "Well then, I will go easy on you." He spoke softly. The rapiers aligned for a second, and both nodded, stepping, swinging, and blocking the other's blows. It was clear neither wanted to hurt the other, but it was entertaining to watch. Which is probably the main reason why Skeeter had brought it up, to show that there's still some interest in what is done today. 

"Compared to what you had during the- woah," Skeeter began, quickly raising the rapier to block a swing the Marquis made. "1700s... Modern day calls for three weapons, each offering their own rules of fencing," they struck at Marquis, though the two weapons clanged together. "The foil, épée, and the sabre. And, gah-" They shifted to the side, blocking a jab from the Marquis. "Each sport requires at least two swords. Sometimes, there will be four contestants or more," They tried a similar tactic to what the Frenchman had, both shifting and trading places, moving back to the right side of the stage. "Other equipment includes, a lamé, but that's not required for the épée, a white jacket, underarm protectors, two body and mask cords, knee high socks, and knickers." The rapiers clung together, and they moved closer, both pressing against the blades to try and overthrow the other. 

"You're strong," Marquis commented, a soft laugh falling past his lips. "I'm impressed."

"I'm just as surprised," Skeeter laughed. Both moved back, swords scraping against one another, and they went back into the beginning position, making sure the other was ready to continue. And the swords clashed again. "The épée is the heaviest and largest of the three weapons used now. It's deprived from a French small sword, sh-" They swung quickly to the left, clashing their sword against where Marquis' just struck the stage. "Heavens sake, you're fast..." They commented breathlessly.

"As are you. Reaction time is important." Marquis rose the sword, almost disarming Skeeter in the process. They laughed, readjusting their grip before blocking another blow. 

"The épée is a thrusting weapon. It's similar to the fight that Lafayette and I are portraying. Thrusting back and forth, swords often pressed against one another-" Skeeter thrusted the weapon forward, nearly clipping the Frenchman's belt. "And the épée is incredibly similar with the foil." 

The swords pressed together again, both attempting to overthrow and disarm the other with strength. "However, this would never happen in modern fencing. The foil weapon is... flexible and it bends when making contact with a rough surface. The foil is probably the best example of flexibility, and it's incredibly lightweight." 

The Marquis took a step forward, pushing Skeeter back. The shorter took a more firm stance and began pressing forward against the Marquis's blade. "You fight with the nobility and honor of a Frenchman." He commented. 

"I've never been the one to back out of a 'duel' of the sorts." They laughed, looking to the crowd. They all seemed to be intrigued by the show. "Moving on to the final weapon, the sabre. It is a thrusting and cutting weapon. If you look at the fighting style used for the sabre compared to mine and Marquis' duel with the rapiers, you see that they are incredibly similar-" Skeeter grunted as they hit the floor, weapon still up, blocking the Marquis. They stared for a long second before moving quickly enough to roll back onto their feet and block the next swing. They stepped in sync, moving to the left side of the stage. 

"The sabre uses both the cutting edge and the back of the blade, not just counting strikes with the tip." They finished the explanation, breathing heavily. They ducked down quickly, staring up at the Marquis's sword that now hoisted their cocked hat. They grinned, clanging the swords together at the lower end of the blade, messing with Marquis's grip. 

"Clever..." The Frenchman commented, spinning back enough to fix his stance. Skeeter grinned, picking their hat up from the floor, placing it back onto their head. 

"You have to read the opponent. Something I learned young." 

"You're doing well, mon ami." Lafayette thrusted the rapier forward, Skeeter quick to side-step away. They brought their sword up, staring.

"Show me your full ability, Marquis."

"I do not wish to harm you."

"I'll be fine. This duel is bound to end with me losing, and I'd rather lose honorably that suffer an undignified defeat."

Marquis stepped forward swiftly, clashing the sword down hard, the force making Skeeter stumble on their feet. They pressed forward though, swinging more roughly now. Marquis grinned as the two swords pressed together, and for the third time, it was a battle of brawn instead of wit. Marquis pressed with full strength, Skeeter slowly being forced to kneel, still pressing back. A quick jerk from the Marquis and Skeeter's sword had been thrown across the stage, the younger's back firm against the wooden floor. Both of their chests rose and fell with heavy breaths, Marquis laying his sword to the side, offering a hand to his opponent. "Good fight," He spoke softly, hoisting them back to their feet. 

"I do believe I knew I wouldn't last too long." They laughed, dusting themself off. They snapped their fingers and the swords vanished. Like when they were summoned, that sparked a large amount of curiosity. But, of course, they where in Skeeter's mind, this was their (Skeeter's) domain. 

"To be honest, you lasted quite awhile. You acted like you backed out of the final fight... What happened?"

"I need to move on to the next question. Thank you, Marquis, for joining me! You may return to your seat." 

The Frenchman nodded, jumping from the stage, joining his friends. Laurens grinned, ruffling Lafayette's hair. "That was so intense to watch. Great job, Marquis!"

"Spectacular!" Hamilton laughed, pulling the Frenchman into a hug. "I'm impressed! I have been since I heard of your first battle!" 

Skeeter offered a round of applause before taking a seat. Their face was red, and it was clear they were trying to cool back down. "Moving on to the next set of questions. Would anybody like to ask?"

Angelica stood, and smiled. "How far has women's rights advanced?" 

Skeeter smiled, and let a long sigh past their lips. "From your time to mine, women have slowly gained more rights. It was in 1920 when women were granted the right to vote. Right after the first World War-... But, frankly, the World War will be another topic of discussion. Taking into consideration that it took until 1920 for women to have those rights... It's almost ridiculous to believe that they spent years fighting for it. Sure, the country was free, but people weren't equal. Slaves were freed in 1865 after a four year war. North against South, Union against Confederacy." They froze, realizing they were getting off topic. "But, since then, women have grown to hold various powers. We have women in the government, the supreme court, and the sitting vice president is a woman of color. Shameful it took so long... And men are still bold enough to say all a woman is good for-" They bit their tongue, angered by the thought. "I'm sure you already know." 

"So, are you saying that it took longer for women to have equal rights than it did for men who were once slaves-? I mean, I fought for decades to speak out against slavery... I thought that women would at least be... recognized." Eliza spoke. 

"Well- yes-... But, frankly, it's a controversial topic. And even then, people of color had to go through segregation... Whites and Blacks could not go into the same school building, drink from the same fountain, or even step in the same body of water. That ended in 1964, though... And I feel America has gotten worse when it comes to racism. It seems no matter when you look at a Newspaper, there's some new big thing about police brutality, or war, or- or-..." Skeeter paused for a long second, staring at the stage. "It's scary." There was a silence in the theater. "It's become a scary, scary place. They've created weapons of mass destruction. Some that could, well... Destroy the human race. And, I hate laying in my room at night knowing I could wake up and something terrible could've happened." 

"Why would people create something that would- could kill themselves?" 

"Why did people pick up a rock and decide they should kill the ones that stepped onto their part of the hunting plains?" Skeeter asked, now looking to the one who asked the question. A British general, standing at attention. 

"To defend what's theirs."

"Well, nowadays. It's about power. Who has more explosives, who has more money, who has the biggest army?" They forced themself from the floor, stepping to the side. "As I said, the world is scary. Now, I would like to hear the next question if anyone has any."

Aaron Burr stood. "When would you say was the first time a man of color and a woman voted in the same year?" 

Skeeter turned to Burr, eyes concentrating on him. "You ought to remember, it was during your time."

"What do you mean?" Burr inquired, arms crossed behind his back. 

"I'm certain you remember Meriwether Lewis."

"Mr. Jefferson's private secretary? How couldn't I?" Aaron smiled a bit, though his expression fell back to seriousness. "The kid was quiet and always listened before speaking. Of course, if it was a topic of his interest, he was more keen in speaking." 

Skeeter smiled a bit, though their eyes landed on Washington, as if expecting him to speak. They tilted their head. "Do you really have nothing to say of your second cousin, Mr. Washington?" 

The former general's eyes widened a bit."I knew he was a good kid... A fighter. Very observant and obedient." 

Skeeter's brows furrowed a bit. "Regardless," they dismissed the general, stepping slowly. "Mr. Lewis, and his dear friend William Clark with their crew of men were ordered to find a route west. Along their way, they met a young Native American woman named Sacajawea. Winter was setting in fast, and quite frankly, they were voting where they'd set camp for that winter. It was there that she voted, and Clark's servant, York, also voted. So, these people, in the year 1805, already had more rights than many for the next years to come. And you know why? Because everyone relied on the other. Race and gender didn't matter to them because it was survival. In the crew, each life was equal." 

The people fell silent. 

"Is it that hard to see? If a crew of early 50 people can see equal rights... why couldn't leaders do the same in the next hundred years or so?"

There was no answer and Skeeter sighed, knowing they were likely too ashamed to confess. "Money. The answer is... The leaders needed the economy built. And, what's better than free labor?" 

"Free souls," Laurens answered simply. 

Skeeter looked to the blonde, pitifully. "I know what you fought and died for... And I know how painful it must've been just knowing they never freed the men you promised to free." 

Laurens sunk into his seat, no words following what he had said. 

Hamilton rose gently. "But, what else has been granted?"

"... In 2014, same-sex marriage was legalized after so many years of discrimination. I remember the day it was legalized... I was young, but I remember it vividly. I was resting in the living room, and my parents and grandparents were pissed. They were never too fond of the idea that... two people of the same sex were allowed to marry... I just knew I was so happy for those that I saw, those couples that could finally marry. Some older people waiting over 60 years to marry the one they love."

There was a couple words passed around, and Skeeter looked out into the crowd. "Imagine being told you could not marry the woman you love because it should be illegal for man to love woman and woman to love man. It wouldn't be fun, would it?"

"No," Hercules spoke. Skeeter was relieved as they looked to the man. 

"Precisely. I know it's odd to learn that so much has changed... But look around... How many of you were fond of the same sex... Where, if you knew it was okay- or even if you didn't care if it was, you'd be okay with being their partner." 

Laurens stood, but did not speak. Alexander followed, and then Marquis. Skeeter smiled softly, signalling for them to sit back down. "Thank you for being honest. Alexander, you grew up in an area where homosexuality was common, did you not?" 

"I did. I never thought it was a problem." The Caribbean man spoke with ease.

"That's because it isn't a problem. It's just the way you view it. When you think about it, there is not a reason to discriminate those who find attraction in the same sex... And there's those who needed to know before... they hated themselves for the way they felt..." 

Laurens stomach sank, knowing the statement directed towards him. It's true. A lot of his reckless behavior came from the fact that, he really didn't know how to feel of himself. He thought he was an outcast, to some extent. He never thought it'd come to the say he would stand and confess that he had felt attraction to men. It was seen as a sin in his time, but things have changed... He could be open now, right? Because it's normal- natural. 

He bit the inside of his cheek, glancing to the other two by his side. They were still quiet. Odd.

"Skeeter," Alexander began. "I have one more question, if that's alright."

"I'll be free to answer one more before I show you the next song."

"How much of our legacies have been passed on?"

They smiled, looking to the screen. "Well, your letters, your names, and your stories are told through all sorts of writings and plays. People write of your lives... And some spread your name, but get your lives incorrect, or write about what you'd be like within the modern world. They change your character. And there are some who'll try to ruin the names of those they wrote of... So really, it's your names, and the biographies that carry your legacy. Unbiased authors carrying on names and marking your true legacy. All of you. So, it's... complicated." Skeeter explained. "I believe it's time to move to the next song. Sit tight everyone. Let's listen to Song Two of Act 1." They took a step off the stage, and moved to the booth where the projection came.

Eyes rested on the screen, ready to hear the music.

Things have changed, and it's hard to ignore what they just learned. Some are embarrassed, others feel insecure, but they were too proud to speak of it. Hamilton placed a hand on Laurens' shoulder, and the blonde eased lightly, and finally, the first instrumentals started and song two began.