Chapter Text
The door opens to the act ending, allowing the next scene to be set up. The planet they soon to inhabit, fresh and new to the universe as it lays dormant with all of the children feeling the wind against the soft fabric of their clothes. When they take in their first breath, it feels like freedom to them.
Many have different reactions, maybe group together to finally reunite and touch each other for the first time, maybe sit down after a particularly long battle, and some might stand in place. For they’ve finished this game, lasting several years and eating up at their childhood experiences.
Within this new world, now renamed as ‘Earth C’ respectively, these renowned heroes celebrate for now. They find that they deserve one after everything they just went through. Now one or a few players can feel the shift, a branching leading out of the main root as it spreads away.
Though this doesn’t mean it necessarily strays from the root or even breaks away, just merely keeping distance from the other forming branches that take place. The universe gently cradled in the hands of these new gods, as though it seems nothing too drastic is taking place for now.
No, nothing like that, as they’re too busy reforming the lives they had once, already trickling through their trembling fingers. It starts off with pairing the humans together via last name, maybe even relation. The Striders head back to their now shared apartment, the Lalondes scatter off to their mansion, the Harleys and Englishs venture back to intricate woods where their home lies, and the Egberts and Crockers walk back home.
And then what? Happily ever after? Everyone knows it simply doesn’t end there. Nothing is ever that easy. And most certainly nothing is ever set in stone. Not with the lives of what these children have faced. Which is why this leads to the present before the future—the calm before the storm, if you will.
It starts with the main four, the Heir, the Seer, the Knight, and the Witch. All appear giddy to spend time with each other now that they aren’t separated by several miles and endless land between the four of them. Though Crocker’s guardian decides to essentially watch them, killjoy.
Nothing that these four heroes can’t handle, they weren’t doing anything dangerous anyways. Just hanging about the newly formed terrain on one little speck across the entire planet, nothing too crazy. Most of this group chooses to stay seated on the grass below them, though the Witch of Space remains standing.
She stands tall and mighty, hands sort of away from her body as she paces back and forth between the distance of all of her companions sitting next to each other. Her godtier outfit sways at the faint wind, humming between the mountains and weaving through the leaves.
Jade Harley speaks fondly, a memory of when they were young, well, much younger. “OO! Dave! Do you remember when I got lost in the woods for hours and I was all crazy texting you and stuff?” The Knight allows himself a brief smirk, his one note voice cutting through.
His voice almost mumbling, fortunately loud enough from how far away from anyone else they were. “Oh yeah, shit was wild.” This however leads to the Seer and the Heir eyeing the two with curiosity sparking in their eyes, though one hides it better. “Jade, you got lost in the woods? How’dja manage that?”
This has the Witch cease her pacing, halting in place before sitting down in front of the three. “I was young and dumb, John! It was before I learned how to navigate through the woods properly!” Her legs cross in front of her, leaning forward with her elbows resting on her thighs.
“And pray tell, how did you at your young age manage to escape the wrath of the unforgiving woods?” The Seer sounded just as eloquent as she did over text, calm, focused, and controlled. She sits with her legs to the side of her, curled tight to her body with her hands in her lap.
Jade rolls her eyes, feigning annoyance with her face already cracking, a smile easily painted on her lips. “My grandpa, duh!” Soon John pitches in once more. “Thank god for your grandpa! Otherwise we would’ve been doomed way before we even played Sburb!” Laughter easily comes to the four of them.
Though there is one that isn’t laughing, standing not far from the four as he silently listens to their conversation. He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop on the children, as it’s hard to focus on anything else besides their resounding chatter. Crocker’s dad stands firm and much taller than the four heroes, his lips pursed.
As they continue to share their childhood experiences, the man soon comes to the conclusion that none of them are as grown as they think they are. That they didn’t grow nearly as regular as they seemed. A deepened frown rears it’s ugly head on the parent’s face, a thought that echoes about in his head.
These children did not deserve the childhood they received.
Jane’s dad itched for his pipe, so he wastes no time in pulling it out from his modus, facing a bit away from the children out of respect. He feels a tad bit bad for being one of the first beings to start polluting the air with his smoking habit, but he figures once or twice wouldn’t hurt it.
He tries his hardest to become levelheaded, figuring out what could come next for these children, including the ones that remained in town. The man wanted to handle this delicately, like one would while baking. Nothing could go out of place, it had to be precise. Perhaps even thinking about it appeared to seem as if he wanted to “fix” them.
No, he didn’t want that. It certainly didn’t help being one of the few alive adults in this new world. Not to mention that the children before him would soon become to next generation. Pardon him for his thoughts, but he shivered at the thought of what would take place once these teenagers became adults, much less how they would handle this new planet.
When the parent does tap back into listening on the kids, they’re still chatting, much to what he expected. By now he’s calmed himself down enough to slow on his smoking, feeling rather delighted knowing that none of them noticed his ill habit. Not to say that he isn’t still nerved, but minded enough to focus.
“I will say, Jade, and correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t your grandpa die when you were much younger?” The bubbly Witch pauses in her speech, her eyebrows furrowing a tad as she stares elsewhere in concentration. Then widening as if in realization, she becomes dumbfounded.
“Huh! Well I guess I’m just not remembering it right then!” Easily brushing it off, the Seer hums, not yet wanting to move from the conversation just yet. “This does raise a new question, however. How did you get out of the woods if not for your grandpa? Perhaps your dog? Or maybe you simply cannot remember?”
Jade appears to be trying her earnest shot at remembering, all of the times that she ventured off into the tipsy topsy woods seem to mesh together into a darkened goop. Only some shots remaining in a disappointing result. She whines, given that her age hasn’t yet changed her maturity.
“It feels so long ago that it happened! I should’ve remembered it by now!” Rose pats her on the shoulder in some sort of cold comfort, eyeing the other two with interest. “My dearest condolences. Alright then, how about you two?” The Knight finally looks up from his legs, absentmindedly picking at the threaded seams.
“Huh?” The Knight tumbles out his words. “Oh, John you go first.” This causes the Heir to squawk, his head immediately turning toward the former. “Me?! Why me?!” Dave merely shrugs, blank faced but almost too easy to start smiling. He goes back to picking at the same area, almost like clockwork.
“You’re the man of the hour, who else could it be other than Mr. I got batshit crazy powers and most likely to be the main character in some dumb comic?” John doesn’t appear to be all that convinced, but yields as he squints, digging into his memories to cop out some that would be even vaguely interesting.
When coming mostly unsatisfied with his findings, he stalls. “You guys are kinda putting me on the spot,” The Heir digs a finger into the collar of his shirt, letting in air as it gives the allusion that he’s nervous. “I’ve practically got nothing compared to you guys! All of my stuff is so boring…”
It’s almost like a trigger word that causes Rose to jump back into the conversation. “May I suggest the time you were too embarrassed to show your father your grades and when he asked for them you told him that they ‘ran out of paper’ to print yours out?” John gapes his mouth while the other two laugh.
“That barely counts and you know it!” John quips, both legs bent but with one lain on the grass while the other is kept upright. He leans forward. “And it doesn’t even come close to the shit you guys went though…” Almost sounding defeated, he then leans back with his hands supporting his weight.
As the Witch is quick to jump back into the conversation, Jane’s dad listens intently, taking in the information that the heroes can’t help but spill. Each story is seemingly drastic levels of insanity, the man not understanding how they find it something to easily laugh away as if one of the whirling winds in the sky.
From constant beatings in Texas heat to experiencing your mom drink herself to death, it nearly drove the father mad with how the children were taking it as a joke. He’s become desperate of how he could at the least have them understand any different. Any options he’s come up with had immediately been shut down as they wouldn’t be effective.
The Knight pauses momentarily, then resumes. “I do kinda wish my bro didn’t fuck me up for good though. Maybe I could’ve been something.” It almost comes abrupt, a sudden jump in tone, different from how monotone it otherwise is. The others respond just as awkwardly as Dave’s words settle into the conversation.
Lalonde only hums, as if she truly knows. “I can understand that. Wishing that one could’ve grown up differently.” She smiles with her eyes, but her smile doesn’t quite reach the same cheeriness. “Perhaps I wouldn’t have picked up my mother’s nasty habit.” Another pause, then, “Maybe if this all didn’t happen we’d be living normal lives.”
As somber as the quiet space beyond, Jade speaks. “Maybe my grandpa would be alive if Sburb didn’t happen.” She plays with the edge of her outfit. It’s awkward to say the least. A lingering quiet eases over the heavy atmosphere, almost squeezing them. It’s too open to be vulnerable.
Then, they sort of stare at the Heir. Like he had anything comparable to say. And to tell the truth, “I, uh, don’t really have anything.” John laughs a little, though it isn’t any actual laughter to it. “I had everything a kid could ask for, I mean…can’t really complain about living in an actual house and an actual dad…”
He trails off into a sort of coughs, feeling as if he’s trying to find something to wish about, mainly as the other three heroes try to push him into it. “Hmmmmmm…well I guess I wish I had more friends outside of you guys. Actually, no scratch that, they would’ve died by the time we would’ve played Sburb.”
The Witch then groans all of a sudden, falling onto her back and allowing the grass below to cushion her. “This sucks! I wish we weren’t so lonely! I wish we didn’t have to play this stupid game! I wish we didn’t have to die to be cool! I wish, I wish, I wish!!!!!!” She ends her last “wish” with an “uh,” proceeding with a noise of frustration.
This easily levitates the mood, an overall resounding agreement to the Witch’s grievances. And just like that they carry on with a different topic, not wanting to stray back into that uncomfortable feeling and sharing memories. They just didn’t want that. In their minds, there was nothing to accomplish after all.
This would deeply nerve Jane’s dad, but nonetheless have him understand. Some might say they were blessed with these powers, these capabilities that are definitely inhuman. But he finds it more as a curse than anything, a rotten leech that changed these kids’ purpose.
He would watch as one would blank out for moments at a time, their face pinched as if struggling to juggle the universe in their arms, and for some of them they very well could be. Jane’s dad was a well-adjusted man, well enough to admit that it saddened him to a great degree for these children, despite the majority of them not being blood related.
As much as it disheartened the man to not so sneakily eavesdrop on the heroes’ conversation, it allowed him to understand their backgrounds much better than before. From this experience alone, in fact, let the father be aware that these kids shouldn’t be taken at face value.
Though they didn’t explain their whole story, the man didn’t need them to. It was enough for him to consider how he could take action as the only responsible adult on this planet. And how he could avoid as many mistakes as possible. Jane’s dad is only one man, figures he can’t make things perfect for these troubled teens.
But maybe he’d feel well accomplished if he would be able to at least guide them for the rest of their youthful years. He took on having one child. Just one was plenty enough when he was raising little Janey. But maybe taking on a few more wouldn’t hurt. Maybe he’d figure it could be well worth it.
-
Jane’s dad isn’t so lucky when it comes to he beloved daughter and her dear friend, given that they held the concept of privacy near and dear to their hearts. It did remind him that with Jane and her friends, they were more closer to the typical teens he was familiar with.
The most he could pick up with their muffled voices, and even then he’d have to stay silent for that alone. So the father figured he would have to wait around until this set of children came to him instead. Nothing like playing the long game. Without the good chunk of his usual routine of going to work, the parent would decide to busy himself with baking.
And beyond the kitchen and upstairs to Jane’s room, both the Maid and the Prince sat in her chambers, prattling about to no one else but each other. Though it still nerved the Prince, his view hyper focused as he looked about the room, the Maid reassuring him that her father wouldn’t hear a single thing.
“Could never be too sure, Crocker. Gotta always at least triple check before getting comfortable.” He discreetly did it one more time, and even then he never fully settled. His posture nearly stiff and hunched over as his triangular shades easily hid his face. Dirk was well perched on the side of Jane’s bed, just as the very edge of it.
Near the head of the bed sat the Maid, who would shove at the Prince in a playful manner. “My pop’s not anything like you think he is, Dirk! But I will admit I’m probably losing my touch!” She then demonstrates by pretending to use her godtier powers, her open palm not producing any light.
Dirk gasps, well, as well as one can while trying their best to be monotone. “Dear god, Jane, someone’s gotta tell the mayor about this. No, it’s over, it’s too late, we’re all doomed.” He says before letting himself fall back onto the bed, further allowing himself be poked at by the Maid as she ‘inspected’ him.
The Maid would find herself laughing with the Prince smiling just a tad, soon fading away as it was cut off by a cough. “I already know.” The Prince stares at the ceiling, not wanting to look at the other just yet, already feeling his heart beating ever so faster. “I know what I’m here for, just, give it a minute. The words might have a little stage fright.”
“Oh yeah? Are they shaking in their boots?” Jane leans over, enough for Dirk to finally look at her, but only momentarily. “Fucking quaking, I say. They’re trembling so hard like they’re about to meet the President of the United States.” Another laugh, this time toned down.
It takes a few minutes—maybe even less—before Dirk begins to spill. It doesn’t come out like a dam just yet, more akin to a simple spill. “Well I guess I could start my pity story off with how I never got to meet my parents. Well, technically I did later on—just in teenage form—but it wasn’t the ones I was supposed to be familiar with.”
“Like, yeah sure, it’s literally them, but I’m willing to bet my whole cardiovascular system that they’re different. So great. No parents before I’m even old enough to know they exist. Even better, I’m living in an apartment, stranded alongside a girl that honestly wanted to date me. Someone who isn’t capable of loving her back.”
A pause, then when Jane doesn’t say anything, the Prince continues. “No, scratch that, I do love her. It’s just in it’s own fucked up way. She’s brilliant and incredibly good at what she does and is hell of a lot stronger than all of us. I’m just honestly so messed up in the head. I don’t even care how edgy that sounds.”
Dirk sort of grasps at Jane’s blankets, feeling it bunch up in his hands as he clenches them tightly. “I honestly think we’re all fucked up. Just look at how we grew up. We were fucked from the start.” He isn’t ready for how upset Jane looks. He wishes he never saw it at all. And for several moments he can feel his chest cave in, regret seeping into the pores.
He shouldn’t have come here. He should be dead.
This feeling doesn’t keep him from shutting the hell up, in fact, he keeps going. What’s the hell is he doing? “Just look at it. You grew up alone being raised to inherit this entire business, Roxy and I grew up alone in the future with nothing but the sea around us, and Jake. He grew up on an island also alone. Man, maybe the main factor was just us being alone. And look how we turned out.”
Dirk isn’t letting Jane speak, it’s because he’s afraid of what she’ll say. To even hear the sheer amount of disappointment in her voice. He needs to leave. “Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s just me and my fucked up splinters. Maybe it’s just fucked up splinters all the way down.” He stays planted on the bed.
It’s quiet. Deathly quiet. Maybe Jane’s dad heard him and will come up and beat the shit out of him for some reason. Maybe he’ll just accept it. Maybe then he’ll easily avoid this conversion that’s basically sudo-therapy. Dirk’s glad he wore shades. He’s glad Jane can’t physically hear his heartbeat unless her ear was right up to his chest.
The silence nearly makes him bolt out of the nearest window and fly back to his shared apartment. But then Jane finally requires enough to say something. “Gosh, Dirk… I didn’t know you felt that way.” Jane immediately feels like smacking herself in the face, ‘Terrible start!!! Way to go, you dunce!’
There’s another pause that feels too awkward to be healing for anyone, both heroes going to speak but the Maid is just a little bit faster. “I wish you told me sooner, but I know you probably would’ve kept it in if I didn’t push you.” The more Jane thinks does she realize how woefully unprepared she is.
“It’s okay, Jane. You don’t have to cater to my every beck and call just because I’m feeling down.” Dirk can’t look at her. He can’t bring himself to even spare a glance, having her bedsheets in a near chokehold and sweating like a damn chicken waiting to be beheaded. Or he might perhaps cease to exist should Jane be in his sight.
He nearly winces when Jane sighs, taking in anything near a negative reaction as a complete shutdown. Dirk finds himself paranoid. Too ready to take action. “I think it’s worse that you’ve just kept it inside of you a the fact that you’re probably gonna keep doing this…” Nearly makes him fucking shatter.
The Prince’s eyes widen. Why is he surprised that his closest friend read him like a damn book? Hell, it’s the first page of the damn thing. “Right. Just thought y’know. If I have this many problems then it’s better to just let it build up and explode at any given moment.” Why won’t he shut up.
“Figured it was better than the alternative of constantly bringing the mood down. As if I don’t do that already.” Fuck. Strider finds himself planted deep on Jane’s bed, unable to get himself to just move and abscond the hell out of here. Why couldn’t he just be cool about it? Surely if he could just. Get. Up.
“Dirk.” This time the Prince of Heart actually winces, as if his very heart is squeezing under the very pressure that is Jane’s words. “It saddens me terribly knowing that. That I’m just now knowing this. That I’ve been walking willy nilly acting like everything was fine when it wasn’t.”
Finding it in himself to stop talking, he lets Jane get a word in, let her process her thoughts and carefully choose her words like she’s carefully approaching a scared animal. “I also think…that you need professional help. Not that I’m saying you’re crazy and yes you do need professional help!”
The Maid is quick to clarify and it easily keeps Dirk from leaving or saying nearly the exact words she said, though he does jolt. “I just feel like if you’re having constant problems and you’re too worried about and I quote ‘bringing the mood down’, then I think you need to get someone like a therapist to help you.”
The boy is silent, though his heart says otherwise, so far out of it he thinks about how he even got to this point. He’s made it sixteen years of his life by himself, why does he need help now? By any means, Dirk does not want help. Not by some therapist who thinks they can change his life for the better and definitely not by anyone who thinks likewise.
He mulls it over. Hal unhelpfully adds that he could potentially be his therapist but that the likelihood of him finally screwing something up was high. Does he want to go with his heart or his mind? The Prince is well aware that there’s something deeply wrong with him.
“Well shucks.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth. It’s so abrupt that it earns him the reaction he wanted, having Jane laugh. “Guess I just needed a little push from Detective Crocker after all. Just needed a slight clue, huh?” He finally looks at Jane, knowing that she won’t look so wounded. She doesn’t.
It isn’t entirely terrible, her eyebrows are still curved in a way that shows obvious worry, but her smiles lets his conscious know that he isn’t being held at gun point. “I probably wouldn’t have needed a clue in the first place!” The Maid of Life leans over so she’s entirely in his viewpoint.
“Right, how foolish of me for assuming. Suppose you won’t let me off with just a warning huh?” Dirk raises his arms in mock-like mercy, though they remain limp on the bed, being reminded of how he was sweating earlier. Jane remains full of mirth, she wouldn’t have ever needed trickster mode. Not even for a second.
She giggles again, snorting once maybe twice. “I shall have you sentenced to life!” The two heroes feeling rather fulfilled in the way their conversation has ended, keeping up with their seemingly never ending banter. The smell of baked goods waft throughout the house, how convenient.
-
There’s no one else watching the Rogue nor the Page as they sit in a room, completely devoid of any possible way that anyone could be watching. The Rogue ensured that there would be total privacy. And what privacy if not having the both of them in a hidden room that even her ecto-mom-daughter couldn’t find!
So they’re the Rogue of Void and the Page of Hope sit at a small table, a chair on opposite sides. “This kinda reminds me of an interrogation scene! I could be the interrogator and you be the interrogatee and we could swap roles?” The Lalonde leans on her elbows with all the tips of her fingers touching, her hands near her face.
The Page chuckles, though it’s not entirely truthful to how utterly nervous he was already. He pretends to be much more nervous than he actually is, tugging at the collar of his clothing. “I fear you might play too good of an interrogator! But not today, er, maybe another time would suit this better?”
Roxy nods eagerly, leaning back just the tiniest of bits. “Right, right! Another time! Okay, I’m ready! Tots ready! You can talk whenever!” He enjoys her rapid enthusiasm for mostly everything, he’ll give her that. He just finds himself entirely too nervous when the focus is actually on him for a turn.
“My, well I suppose I could start with how I grew up? I could summarize it since I’ve ran my mouth about this many times before.” And when she agrees, Jake begins to speak. “Well, I grew up an on island with my grandma until she had died, I still can’t rack my brain around it, and then I’ve been living on my own since.”
The more he goes on, he thankfully feels himself open up, any weight or nervousness on his heart lifting off with ease. “Of course I also started brawling with many creatures and robots alike, but it was quite lonely despite trying to keep myself busy. I do assume it was something similar to your childhood, Lalonde?”
Roxy’s easy smile would’ve been unnerving if the others including Jake weren’t already used to it. “Oof, yeah totally. No human is fit to live alone, I feel like that’s just basic knowledge!” Her eyes trail elsewhere but track right back onto Jake when she finishes her sentence.
“Makes me truly ponder if that’s why we all turned out like that…” The Page sort of scoffs into a laugh, looking off as well but when they returned his buddy only gave him an odd look. “Like huh?” He scrambles to explain himself, seeing that he didn’t elaborate earlier. “Well, y’know! Like, well I guess there’s just something a little rattled inside our brains!”
“…can’t be the only one who noticed that we’re a little, well, mentally frigged up, y’know?” The hero ends rather abruptly, as if feeling the need to get out all his thoughts before the chance of anyone else cutting in. Roxy stares at him. “I mean, I guess..? I dunno, I just don’t think a lot of people realize enough about themselves.”
“I get what you mean.” Jake says thoughtfully as he doesn’t entirely get what Roxy may be implying. He takes this pause as an opportunity to continue forth. “Well, I’ve got that topic out of the way, I guess I could move ontoooo…oh! I could speak on about my relationship with Dirk!”
He doesn’t catch how Roxy looks momentarily nerved, as if mentally readying herself. The Rogue repositions herself in her seat, squirming. Though, to Jake it merely appeared to him that she was getting comfortable for the long road ahead. “We’ve got nothing but time on our hands!” Roxy finds herself saying.
“Oh boy! The things I could say about that man! To start, he’s quite the mysterious fellow! Allows boxing himself in no matter what! I can never get a good read on him or what his next move is! I never even knew he felt that way toward me! It just makes me wonder how far back it really went…”
“Oh, and another thing! He’s clingy to an extraordinarily degree! I swear I felt chills when we were playing Sburb, always feeling like he was in the shadows preying on me! Could never get a proper breath to myself! He’s a nice fellow, don’t get me wrong! But he’s just way too forward, I honestly had no idea what to do with it!”
“Perhaps I was just foolish for thinking that it would work out, thinking that our friendship wouldn’t change when we started dating. I mean, can you blame me? I guess—I guess he was just too much for me to handle!…” It seemed that English worked himself up, having spoken in a rapid pace to finally empty out his mind.
Roxy let out an ‘uh-huh’ in response, leaning on one of her elbows and supporting her chin with her hand, her eyes widening at him as if to say ‘go on’. She would find herself understanding Jane, though not entirely to the level it was during Sburb, it was approaching faster than one would expect.
“…gee…sounds a little harsh when I say it out loud. And—don’t take this in the wrong way because I truly do care about each and every one of you and perhaps I may say something I truly don’t mean—but I think Dirk needs uh, a little rework, if you’re understanding me just right?”
The Rogue of Void hums, though it isn’t entirely in agreement, it also isn’t in the opposite direction. “Well, that’s a lil’ fucked up to say, but I gotcha. I mean like what you said earlier, we’re all have at least a few screws loose in our dingy brains.” The other nods in relief.
He sort of sags in his chair and goes to check his phone for the time, shocked to see how much time has truly passed. “My word! Would’ya look at the time, Roxy! Hopefully I didn’t cut into your time to talk about your shenanigans, did I?” Jake had stood up from his chair in a manner like so, his chair making a harsh noise.
“Nah, I got nothing, el-oh-el.” She watches as he pretend to wipe sweat off his forehead before heading to the exit, giving her fingerguns in a repeating motion with his body turned toward her. That was until he made it to the door and would end up needing her help to open it.
Jake leaves the mansion soon after Roxy closes the door, sitting back down in her chair. She waits. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi. Coast is clear. She takes her phone out and clicks, bringing the phone up to her ear, waiting for the other to pick up. “Yo, coast clear, over?”
“Nothing on the clock, over.” There’s a bit of silence between the two, the person on the other side pondering on if they should even consider asking. They take the leap, expecting the worse. “Was it anything he predicted? Actually let me start over. …Was he right?”
The room has never felt emptier. The Rogue takes in a breath, then out. Then, “Yeah, Hal was right.”