Considering none of them really know where or when they are, this could be some strange afterlife. But Jacob doubts it, personally. This is just some strange other place. There seem to be a lot of them, dragging people in from either their own world or another hodgepodge.

The question draws his thoughts away and his expression becomes a little softer as he takes another swallow from the bottle. Charles. He always grins when he thinks of him.

"There's a man called Charles Smith. I think he is from about the same time as you. Some man he knows called... Killian Duffy. Something like that. And Connor. But he's from a time before mine. The Revolution. But it's still America."

He leans back against the table, balancing the bottle on the edge. "There's probably some more Americans around. I've not met everyone here myself. Not by a long shot."