I put all the chapters in the 1860s here in one spot for you guys from the apocalypse SYOC, so if you get confused considering the spacing, you're welcome to just read them all here. ^^

20 Dekémvrios, 1860

The country is breaking at the seams. Mr. Lincoln said the program was the only way to prevent the upcoming war, but I'm not so sure. What is it that he sees in this group? The seven of us have absolutely nothing in common, nor have we met before now. I wish not to be such a croaker, but with all the scuttlebutt going around lately…

"I can' believe that no good, uppity, bosh-speaking, boatlicking lil' asswipe! I betcha that randy sodomite screwed with 'is mum!" A thick, angry southern accent rang throughout the room, no shame in throwing out such insults about the Man. A young redhead with freckles plain on his face, stomped around in a gray soldier's uniform, jacket thrown on haphazardly over a dirty white shirt. His brown eyes glared as someone snapped at him.

"Peter, shut your big bazoo and stop bellyaching! I am trying to write!" The voice belonged to an older girl, with long, silky blonde hair and big blue eyes, whom glared at the younger. She wore a man's white shirt and dark blue trousers, her hair tied back in a braid by a single blue ribbon.

"I don' need bosh from some strumpet, you cussed adventuress!" Peter snapped back crudely.

"It's Abigale, you pie eater!" The blonde then grumbled under her breath. "Ça me fait chier!"

"Peter." A calm, rusty voice rumbled, causing a shock to run up the boy's spine.


"Pull in your horns, 'fore you're knocked galley west by Lucian." Wearing a similar, though much neater, uniform as Peter, a boy with short, neatly combed brown hair matched the wild brown eyes with a steady gaze. He easily turned back to the book in his hand. "Lest you bring 'it' up."

"I-It?" The ginger asked, eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.

"Nat, you shouldn't just leave 'im all balled up like that! Poor boy ain't got no damned horse sense!" Sitting on a stool next to the brunette was another boy with wavy black hair, slightly longer than the other's and swept to the side. When his friend didn't answer, he stared worriedly with ocean blue eyes, frowning. "Nat!"

Nathaniel looked up again calmly, taking off his reading glasses, which accented his dark green eyes. "William, he's a Confederate. If he were so balled up, then he'd be a deadbeat. Please, go discommode another, I'm played out."

"Nat! You're so mean!" William whined as he shook the other, who sighed in exasperation. The eyes of everyone in the room was on them, except for two of their companions, who were either lost in thought or trying to avoid them entirely.

The death glare of someone in the far corner of the room stabbed at the sources of the ruckus. Shaggy black hair hung over demonic, abnormal dark red eyes-the main cause for the amount of empty seats near him. There was no mistake in the vulgar curses that spewed from his mouth, though one would rather not listen. His clothing was covered by a dark, though expensive cloak, black boots tapping the floor impatiently.

'This is why I worry…' Abigale sighed, though with no intention of interfering again. Last time she tried, they had been kicked out. But when their shouting got louder…

"Y'all need to calm down! It's like the Rev' again!" She interrupted, a slight French accent poking into her speech. It sounded weird, with both a southern and a European accent mixed together, but it was enough to stop the commotion of the others.

"Whaddya want, ya sodomite?" Peter grumbled unhappily, scowling at the blonde.

"We're in the mid' of a tavern! You need to stop this damn chafe 'fore we're kicked out!"

"Tha's right, ya lil' scalawags! Now hobble your lip 'fore I clean your plows!" A big, red-faced man stood over them furiously; beefy arms crossed firmly, his form imposing. Peter and William squeaked in surprise, and the group quickly scuttled upstairs, a certain crimson-eyed young man following sullenly.

Upon entering their shared room, 2 teen girls looked up from where they were.

The first had long, windswept white-blonde hair undone from its usual bun, and big gray eyes that lit up as they filed in. She wore a plain, cotton white dress under a light blue cloak. The girl herself was petite, her pale face unblemished.

The other had long black hair cascading over her shoulders in gentle curls. She wore an expensive, silk emerald green dress with black embroidery, her slender figure graceful in her every movement. She watched the others get comfortable in the room, hazel eyes in a steady gaze.

"Back so soon?" The white-blonde girl asked happily.

"Elizabeth." Compared to his stoic and apathetic voice from earlier, Nathaniel's tone softened slightly. "You look grand today."

"Thank you, Nathaniel! You seem in apple pie order as well!"

The two of them continued to exchange pleasantries, and the others turned to each other, doing the same. The group continued with the small talk, except for William, who seemed peeved at the duo in their own little world. But no matter what he did, it didn't seem like he'd be able to butt in anyways.

William sighed in surrender, instead choosing to sit down and relax. They had to prevent this war from tearing apart the new world, but how could they do that when they themselves couldn't agree on anything? What is He thinking? These thoughts began invading his head before he knew it, bringing his mood down.

"William. Normally you are not such a croaker." The brunette looked up in surprise, snapped out of his thoughts. Watching him with a cool gaze was the elegant girl, hazel eyes unblinking.

"Eh? Oh… s-sorry, Hope." He stuttered, again taken aback by her strange way of speaking. Sometimes, it was almost as if she were from another dimension. Then again, it wouldn't be impossible.

"No, it's quite alright. It's understandable that you would worry with the situation." She replied, smiling slightly.

"…Do you know what will happen?" Hope's expression became downcast for a moment, but she recovered quickly, the smile coming back onto her face.

"I cannot say for the near future, however… I do believe it will all be okay in the long run."

"I hope so."