The moon—beautiful & full—had climbed high in the sky by the time Five found something even remotely informative or related to the here and now, aside from all of this destruction and that depressing newspaper. It still baffled him to think of what could've broken this place; surely they hadn't done this, coming to the past? Well, he thought that too when he was in the 2019 apocalypse and look how well that had turned out.
"…There's a brand new morning, rising clear and sweet and free. There's a new day dawning, that belongs to you and me. Yes! A new world's coming! Yes! A new world's coming…!" Sang some tinny radio, belting out the dulcet tones of the whiskey blues.
"—What? That's not fair! Telekinesis is cheating!" A melodic voice whined childishly from across the way. In the quiet of this new world, it crackled like thunder. Attention captured, Five's gaze snapped over towards an old upturned milk truck which seemed to have sort of melted and fused with the ground like ice cream. "I could do that with my eyes closed!"
Stooped behind a blooming trash can as he was, Five was able to peer around the exploded steel without revealing too much of himself as he got a better look at his newest companions. Apparently, the lonely street wasn't as barren as he had first thought; something that sent relief coursing through him, though he remained wary all the same. Instead, he found a seemingly pristine park bench (only half-singed by this burning world) and the upturned milk truck that sat nearby, were occupied by three other creatures: a young man, an old man and a pug. It sounded like the set-up to a bad joke. But none of them seemed to care about the supposedly mandatory town-wide curfew. Or perhaps since they were the only ones left, such things were no longer needed? Five couldn't say just yet, so he chose to quietly watch them.
They were both ashen-haired, though the elder man wore peppery locks whilst the younger man looked like he had dipped his whole head in tippex. The elder of the two—a potbellied man who seemed familiar in the way that old acquaintances did; you knew the face, but you couldn't put the name to it—was dressed in the old La Commission du Temps et de L'Space fatigues that were popular amongst the Corrections Department (just as Five formerly was) and sat upon the aforementioned park bench. A generous bush of peppery white fuzz cupped his chin and, if it weren't for the bursting-at-the-seams sweat-stained black suit, Five would've of thought he was doing an impeccable Santa Claus impersonation.
The younger, on the other hand, was barely dressed at all. Actually that wasn't quite right. Where the elder was covered from head-to-toe in old Commission fatigues (his patented time travelling briefcase tucked neatly between his feet as he fanned himself with a crisp, but weathered pamphlet) the younger sat there in nothing more than a tired jumpsuit which had been rolled down to the waist and tied off. His feet were shiny red, dressed in those beaten up Converse Vanya used to wear and around one wrist sat a string of khaki green string, just as weathered as the rest of this world. He wore no shirt, but that did mean his torso was naked; far from it, in fact.
His pale flesh was that of a sickly blue—the kind often associated with frostbite—and was covered in a multitude of ink-black tattoos that interwove themselves in & out of the many crevices that was his body, whilst shiny piercings clung to the cracks. Whole strings of—what looked to be—braille were engraved into his skin, twisting about in seemingly unintelligible patterns and forming words that Five could never hope to understand. The only one he could understand was the big motif pressed upon his shoulder; the one which cupped a crescent moon and read: NEVER FORGET in cursive.
The younger man, he looked…well, he looked…uncanny, was the only word that Five could rightly think of. Blue skin and white hair, there was no other word to describe him…he was just too wrong to be human, or whatever the hell he was. And that was coming from him: a time traveller stuck in the body of a teenager, who dabbled in assassination and had six—scratch that—five superpowered siblings, plus one slightly unstable and alien nephew. Stones in glass houses, and all that. Still, looking at this white-haired young man made him uncomfortable in a way that had the hairs on the back of his neck rising up.
He was too perfect to be human, but still too human to be alien (not that he knew a lot of aliens, mind you, though the Commission doctors sure did their best to create such monstrosities down in those dank laboratories of theirs). It was a confusing sight and Five found it hard to wrap his mind around what it was that he was seeing. There was a sort of familiarity there too, though it did little to help him identify them. Perhaps it was the way the younger man was sitting? Vanya used to sit like that when they were kids, reading in the library together, squished in on the window seats as the smell of old tomes washed over them.
Turned just so, with his leg propped up in a causal position as he chatted with whomever was on the phone with him, Five couldn't see any more beyond the sweat that glistened off of the curve of the young man's back. But he could see the glow of a holographic screen floating in the air in front of his face, like something straight out of Star Trek. The image on the screen showed, what looked to be another young adult, the tone feminine but undefined as the two conversed. It was a curious notion, seeing that, because Five was sure that he had time travelled back into the past and not forward into the future.
Sulking, the younger man turned to the smug pug in his lap. "…You're a bad chimaera!"
Instantly the pug swung around, lava-coloured eyes glaring up at his master as a lilting French accent tumbled from their lips. "Do not say that to me!" He snapped.
Five jolted at that. Since when could DOGS talk?! Chimps, sure, but dogs?!
"You are, you're a bad chimaera" The younger buckled down, a pout firmly planted on his lips.
"Take that back!" The pug pleaded, googly eyes enlarged and begging. "C'me on, pleeeeeeease? That's not cool!" When he received no such apology, the canine then turned to the screen hovering behind him. "Maggie-Zvee [Secondborn Maggie of her name]! Did you hear that? He called me a 'bad chimaera' and he refused to take it back!"
"Theodore-Ent [Firstborn Theodore of his name], stop picking on the chimaera" Drawled a voice from the holo-screen.
"W-wha—?" The younger—Theodore-Ent—spluttered, "He started it!"
"And I'M finishing it" Maggie-Zvee retorted. "We have more important things to worry about right now"
"Like getting everything sorted for the festival" Another voice piped up from the background, "Are we still waiting on any more guests? What about the shuttles?"
"Er…" Theodore-Ent's gaze darted over to a smaller window in the corner of the screen where a collection of flight data quickly scrolled passed his eyes. "The last of the Mera shuttles just left. Give it a couple of minutes and you'll be good to go"
"You're not coming to the festival?" Another childish voice whined.
"Not this year, bud" Theodore-Ent shook his head.
"But you promised…!"
"John-Vie…" Theodore-Ent tiredly sighed, "We've been over this, I've got work to do here"
"Well, your 'Work Place' is about to become 'No Place!" John-Vie [Fourthborn John of his name] stomped his foot, "There's nothing there but bones and old people!"
He shrugged, noncommittally as he smuggled a grin. "A good garde always completes his work" It sounded like he was reciting some slogan with that resigned, but sing-songy tone of his.
"But Theodore—!" John-Vie whined.
"—John-Vie! Enough!" Maggie-Zvee cut in again. "This is THEODORE-ENT'S decision. We don't have to like it, we just have to respect it"
"Thank you" Theodore-Ent nodded.
"I still want the record to show, that I think this is a STUPID idea" Maggie-Zvee continued.
Theodore-Ent smiled fondly. "Noted"
Maggie-Zvee heaved a weary sigh at the stubbornness of men. They were the same, it seemed, no matter the planet. "May Lore and Lluma watch over you"
"And may Yugid [The Guiding Eyes] guide you through the stars" Theodore-Ent returned the farewell, before closing down the holo-screen entirely.
There was a pause as the call came to an end; a solemn silence that settled in the street, broken only by those whiskey blue tunes. It was like they were singing in the end of the world. "…There's a new world coming and it's just around the bend. There's a new world coming, this one's coming to an end…" Swallowing thickly, Theodore-Ent hissed out a shaky breath, as a sense longing dug itself deep into his heart. He then turned to the old man at his side as his fingers raked through the pug's fur, their earlier argument seemingly forgotten.
"Hazel?" Theodore-Ent asked of the old man. "You suuuuure he's turning up today?"
"Hm?" His elderly companion hummed from where he sat nearby, attention captured by a glossy magazine in his hands. He quirked a brow in question, eyes never once leaving the page as leathery fingers drummed out a tune upon the edges of the folded over pages.
"I said, are you sure that he's turning up today?" Theodore-Ent repeated, a little louder than before.
The elder—Hazel (it couldn't be the same one Five was thinking of, could it?)—huffed incredulously as he finally ripped his gaze from the magazine and looked over towards the young man on the milk truck. "Are you seriously questioning the time traveller about the intricacies of time travel?"
Okay. Five blinked dumbly. Maybe it was. But does that mean that this Theodore-Ent ALSO knows me?
Five couldn't recall anyone who matched the younger man's description, but he also couldn't deny the resemblance between the two. Perhaps he was Hazel's son? Afterall, "Theodore" was not exactly an uncommon name and his nephew wouldn't be the only one to be ever be called as such. Surely, there was a more reasonable explanation to all of this, instead of the one that was pounding on the back door of his mind, begging to be heard. Surely, that wasn't his nephew?
"Did I stutter?" Theodore-Ent retorted in kind. "We've been here for hours"
"Sounds like you're the one who needs to get his facts straight" Hazel retorted with a fair bit of sass, "Cause we've only been here for forty-five minutes"
"Feels like forty-five years"
"Well, you can stop your grumbling, marcest [brat], 'cause there he is!" A weathered finger finally pointed out Five in his hiding spot. "Right on time!"
"For once" Theodore-Ent scoffed as both ashen men disembarked from their respective seats and made their way over to the schoolboy assassin.
Crap! Five panicked, struggling to figure out what to do or say now that he had been called out. He was still having trouble swallowing all that he had seen and heard today, but it was never good news when a Corrections officer approached you outside of work, retired or not. Nevermind the fact that he, himself, had been "retired" for some time now. Was it really only a week ago that he was still in their employ?
"Hey, Old Timer!" Hazel called out to Five in greeting, waving at the schoolboy as he crept slowly out from behind the android and prepared to confront these strange apparitions & their ghosts of old companions. Instead, they simply came to a pause only a few feet away. "If you wanna live, come with me!"
"Are the dramatics really necessary?" Theodore-Ent sassed, arms crossed over his chest as he came to a stop beside Hazel.
"Oh, let an old man have his fun, marcest!" He retorted, fondly ruffling his counterpart's hair, much to his chagrin.
"Oi! G'off…!" He flinched out from under his grip, glaring at the elderly man like he'd offended him, somehow. "Ugh! You smell like ham, Hazel!"
"Oh, like you're a bunch of roses?"
There was no denying it now. Five knew exactly where he these people from and who they were to him. Of course, the last time he had seen either of them, they had been much younger then and certainly not ashen-haired. His nephew hadn't been inked out like Klaus, nor did he have two blue eyes and Hazel hadn't creaked like an old house in the wind. But these versions of them did and he dreaded to think what would've caused such a thing to make them this way.
Five swallowed thickly, his throat dry (and not just from the heat) as his brows furrowed in confusion. "…Hazel?" His beady gazed roved over the pair as he shuffled closer. "What…what the hell's going on here?"
"There's no time to explain—" Hazel replied as he turned to point up at the smog of looming, swirling sand that sat perched upon the horizon line. "—There's a storm coming, Old Timer"
"Geez…" Five breathed as he turned to stare out at the roiling mass of red creeping ever closer. He wasn't sure as to how he could've missed that looming on the horizon, even with everything that had happened since his arrival. Although it did explain why everything appeared so weathered, even if no one had been here in twenty-four odd years. Whatever they'd done, they had really gone and done it this time. "What about my family?"
"Dead" Theodore-Ent replied shortly, raking a tied hand through abnormally snowy locks as he pinned the schoolboy with a curious look. The expression confused Five, as did his blue eyes. "Like everyone else"
"And who are you?" Five found himself crossing his fingers in the hopes that this young man was who he appeared to be, however unlikely that was. The blood and the soot that congregated on his form made it hard to pick out any concerning features, but after listening to him talk & interact with his peers, the feeling still lingered.
"Not important" He waved off as he pulled a watch-like device from his pockets and strapped it tightly around Five's wrist. Once done, he shoved his hands into pockets, rocking slightly on his heels. "It's time for you to go, now"
"Go? Go where?" Five puzzled as he studied the new device; it didn't look like any watch he'd ever seen before. Neither of them were making any sense.
"Back" Theodore-Ent replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He then tilted his head in Hazel's direction, a delicate brow quirked in question. "You good to go? Got everything?"
"Yeah, we're all good, marcest" Hazel nodded as he drank in the last sight of the war-torn man beside him.
"Good, that's good" He hummed, pausing for a moment to contemplate the schoolboy in front of him, a secretive smile on his lips and fond look in his eye. "…It was good to see you again, Fën, really"
"N-Nephew?!" Five spluttered, choking on his own spit, in his surprise. Logically, he knew that these two were Hazel & Theodore respectively, but he'd really hoped he was wrong. How was he supposed to be okay with the idea that this young man was his twelve-now-thirteen year old nephew whom he had seen only mere moments ago, grieving over his mother. "How—? Why—? Wha—? Whe—? Who—?"
"That's all five…" Hazel mused under his breath, amused that his former-colleague had cycled through the five basics questions without actually finishing any one of them.
Theodore-Ent spared a cheeky grin towards Hazel, "—Smart one, ain't he?"
"Is—is that really you?" Five murmured, eyes roving over who he now knew with certainty, to be his nephew.
A sad smile quickly replaced the fond one on Theodore-Ent's lips as his gaze flickered back to Five. He took in the time traveller with eyes that were too old and too wise to be his. "You need to hurry up, it won't be long now"
"Theodore…?"
"Go"
"Theodore! Wait—!" Five protested, hand outstretched to stop the albino from leaving as he shifted in place. Theodore-Ent looked ready to bolt. "Aren't you coming too?"
Theodore-Ent shrugged noncommittally; he felt like he'd had this conversation before but with a very different boy. "Like I told John-Vie, I've got stuff to do"
"Like what? What could be so important that you're just gonna leave?" Five demanded, the 'What could be so important that you're leaving ME alone again?' went unsaid, though the tears in his eyes were definitely desperate enough to fall.
Theodore-Ent simply smiled, baring too many teeth. "I wonder…?"
"Wonder what?" Five was quickly growing incensed at all of these half-answers. "Will you just spit it out, already?!"
The albino studied the time travelling schoolboy, his eyes (plural!) roving over him as if he were trying to find something worth escaping the end of the world when he seemed so ready to die. "Find Delilah Pitts or Elliot Gussman" Theodore-Ent finally acquiesced. "They'll help"
"Is that really a good idea?" Hazel scoffed, interjecting before the Garde could go any further. "I mean, he's not exactly all there and you're aware that she's—?"
"—She knows what she's talking about. Besides, the kid may have a screw or two loose, but he wouldn't be a Greeter if he didn't know what was going on" Theodore-Ent retorted in kind, cutting through the argument before it could truly begin. It was like they had had this conversation a thousand times over, already and knew exactly what the other was going to say. "Spent long 'nough with them to know that much"
Hazel frowned. "You're a stubborn lil' marcest, don'tcha know?"
"I aim to please" Theodore-Ent smiled prettily as he dramatically batted his lashes at the man. "Now, go"
Five stumbled over his feet as his nephew shoved him closer to Hazel, pushing hard against his shoulder, before he spun on his heel and left with a jaunty wave before any more could be said. Five could only watch in despair as his nephew walked over towards one of the few free-standing doors and disappeared in a flash of light. He told himself that he would've gone after the man-child had Hazel not had a firm grip on his shoulder. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was stuck, frozen in fear as he watched his only remaining family member walk off towards their death with open arms. It almost made him want to give up too.
The song certainly didn't help.
"…There's a new world coming and it's just around the bend. There's a new world coming, this one's coming to an end. There's a new voice calling, you can hear it if you try. There's a new world coming, time to take to the stars and fly…"