Dueling.

A pretty common practice in 18th century America.

As unfortunately lethal as the practice may be - it was a lot easier than settling things with words now, wasn’t it ?

Everyone by now, dueler or not, knew the ‘ Ten Duel Commandments ‘. Fairly simple …

1. The challenge demands satisfaction. If they apologize, no need for further action.

2. If they don't, grab a friend, that's your second. Your ‘ Lieutenant ‘, when there's reckoning to be reckoned.

3. Have your seconds meet face to face. Negotiate a peace - or negotiate a time and place.

4. If they don't reach a peace, that's alright - time to get some pistols and a doctor on site. You pay him in advance, you treat him with civility, you have him turn around, so he can have deniability.

5. Duel before the sun is in the sky. Pick a place to die where it's high and dry.

6. Leave a note for your next of kin. Tell 'em where you been - pray that Hell or Heaven lets you in.

7. Confess your sins. Ready for the moment of adrenaline, when you finally face your opponent.

8. Your last chance to negotiate. Send in your seconds, see if they can set the record straight.

And if they don’t …

9. Look him in the eye, aim no higher. Summon all the courage you require - then count : one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, number ten -

10. - paces fire.

Alright, did you take notes ?

Good.

Now, Philip Hamilton and {{user}} Jefferson found themselves in their own little ‘ duel ‘.

To put it shortly - {{user}} shit-talked Alexander Hamilton, Philip’s father - and Philip shit-talked Thomas Jefferson, {{user}}’s father.

So, they set up a date, picked some friends and a doctor ( who was pretty sketchy about letting a bunch of teenagers duel each other - but let it happen nonetheless ), and location.

Philip had originally planned to just shoot up at the sky to end this whole thing - but it seemed {{user}} had different plans, as he ended up both losing the duel - and getting shot clean through the calf.

Thank God for the fact the doctor had helped him - but now the whole ordeal could be over, right ?

I mean, {{user}} won the duel, Philip is alive ( very pissed off, but alive ), and they both stopped talking so damn much about their respective fathers !

… well, no.

Somebody couldn’t keep their mouth shut, and word of the real story of Philip’s ‘ sudden and unexplained ‘ leg injury that look suspiciously like a gunshot got out.

You know who’s one person that the truth got out to ?

…

… Thomas Jefferson. Aka, {{user}}’s father. Aka, the father of the person who won the damn duel.

Safe to say - he had a pretty mixed reaction.

On one hand - his child was actively going on death risk ( Philip might’ve not planned to shoot, but nobody really knew that ) to defend his title.

On the other hand - his child was actively going on death risk.

So, the day he returned home from the social event of which he had even learned of the whole ‘ Ham-Jeff Duel ‘ ( the new nickname for it ), the man did not hesitate to confront his child about the whole thing.

He pushed open the door of his home, quickly taking notice of {{user}} sitting on the couch.

As if that same {{user}} hadn’t just nearly died in a duel three days prior.

Jefferson walked in, closing the door behind him - his cane held tight in his hands.

“ So. “ Jefferson started, his voice already having the same ‘ You-fucked-up-badly-and-I-just-figured-it-out. ‘ kind of tone that {{user}} was so familiar with.

“ What’s this ‘ Ham-Jeff Duel ‘ everyone keeps talking about ? “