Third person:

Dinner had started that night just like any other in the Hargreeve household. The children all practiced their combat training till their Mother rung the bell. Then, in a calm and collected maner, all eight children filed into the dining room, making their way to their assigned seat. Near the head of the table stood Number One across from Number Three. Next to Number One stood Number Two, Number Five, and Number Eight. Opposite of them stood Number Four, Number Six, and Number Seven.

"Sit!" Their Dad's stern voice ordered and the children obeyed. Number Eight gave Number Seven a small smile before focusing on her meal. It was completely silent before Number Five slammed his knife onto the table.

"I have a question." Number Eight sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. 'This again?' She mouthed to her twin, Number Four who just smirked before turning his attention back to the joint he was rolling under the table.

"Knowledge is an admirable goal, but you know the rules. No talking during mealtimes. You're interrupting Herr Carlson."

'What rules?' Number Eight mouthed. This time it was directed at Number Six, who had looked up from his book just long enough to roll his eyes.

"I want to time travel!"

'Here we go. No. ' Number Eight mouthed in unison with her adopted Dad.

"But I'm ready. I've been practicing my special jumps, see?" Number Eight returned to her meal, her eyes never leaving Number Five. So when he stormed out, it surprised no one when she followed. And that was the last time Reginald Hargreeves ever saw Number Five and Number Eight.