Post by spencer heath charles on Sept 1, 2012 2:05:42 GMT
spencer heath charles
SHAPESHIFTERS. MR CHAIR. THIRTY-ONE. CLOCK STORE CLERK. DAVID TENNANT.
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CROW. 4 YEARS. PM.
SHAPESHIFTERS. MR CHAIR. THIRTY-ONE. CLOCK STORE CLERK. DAVID TENNANT.
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Interview for the job he now has.
A brown haired man stepped nervously into the shop and looked around. The ticking wasn't off-putting for him - it was distracting him from the task at hand which was an interview with the aged owner of the clock store. The tall, thin man moved forward and tapped the bell on the counter gently in order to get the owner's attention. His hand dived into the pocket of his dark green trousers and he glanced around him with more nerves than he previously had; he had never been good with interviews. He could remember the first interview he'd ever had... It had been for a library and, though it hadn't gone too badly, it had mostly put the brown haired man off of going to anymore interviews for a while.
An aged man came from the back of the store and grinned at the brunette.
"Mr Charles?" The owner of the store asked and the younger man nodded and smiled with a warmth that didn't quite cover his nerves.
"Y-Yes. But please, call me Mr Chair. All my friends do." He nodded somewhat nervously, his tone twitching a little as his hands almost clawed at the top of his pockets in an attempt at getting them both into his trousers. The aged man nodded with a seemingly amused sense of curiosity about the strange man.
"A curious nickname, but doesn't matter." Began the man who then turned. "Come back here. I've just made a pot of tea."
The brown haired man moved around the counter to follow the older male and found himself in a sort of store room before the pair settled themselves on boxes.
"Tell me a bit about yourself." The older male requested and Mr Charles straightened his clothes with nerves - flattening out any creases in his dark red waist coat - before nodding then beginning.
"My name is Spencer Charles, I'm thirty-one and- I- I think you already know this." The man smiled before nodding again as though reassuring himself and continuing. "I- I come from a town in Surrey called Guildford. Nice place but very big... N-Not that there's anything wrong with big...!" He stammered before giving a small whine that showed his feelings of this not going very well. The elderly man merely smiled patiently as Mr Charles built up the confidence to carry on.
"My n-nickname's Mr Chair, a-as I've just told you. My friends gave it to me b-because they said that when i get s-scared then I look like a chair." He explained with a hint of embarrassment. "I-I've never seen it myself." Spencer stated dismissively, waving a hand to brush it aside as his confidence in his words grew with each sound. "But... Um... I suppose you want to know about my ch-childhood next?" He asked and received a nod in answer from the old man.
"W-Well, it was very quiet. W-We were a family. Me, my mum and my dad, that is. M-My mum's from Scotland, my dad's from Ireland and I... I'm from England." He smiled softly. "W-We're a real British family - not what everyone c-calls British." He added with a small amount of pride before he fidgeted a little and continued, his movements a little twitchy. "M-My childhood was always quite n-normal. I-I mean... Aside from m-my watch... Thing... I-It was an obsession, I suppose, th-that turned into a hobby." He shrugged gently with a somewhat daft smile on his features now in fond memory of the times that he and his father would spend pulling pocket watches they'd gotten at charity shops and the like apart and seeing how they worked then putting them back together. It had always been a treat for Spencer...
"B-But, um... W-Well..." He moved on from the memory with a small, uncomfortable cough as he pushed away the thoughts of how his father had died. It had been a car accident that Spencer and his mother had been in. Only his father had died of his injuries, though. Spencer and his mother had been absolutely fine... "Th-That was my childhood. Full of st-stories and watches and clocks. It was rather nice. My m-mother was an artist. She was v-very skilled." Mr Charles nodded at the memory.
A loud horn blaring from outside gave the pair a shock, though, and all confidence that the younger man had been beginning to build was now gone as he froze like a deer - or, more precisely: a rabbit - caught in headlights... His legs clenched into a bent position and his posture suddenly became rather chair-like. The elderly man now understood the nickname.
"Mr Chair, are you okay?"
The voice of the other male brought Spencer out of his momentary petrification and the younger man nodded with a hint of a smile forcing its way onto his lips.
"F-Fine..."
"Please continue."
"Wh-Where was I?" Mr Charles muttered to himself under his breath while looking down at his waistcoat for a gold chain. "Uh... Oh yes! Yes! I remember. My m-mother's art. It was quite wonderful and she was rather talented. I'm alright at art, bu-but nothing like I am with w-watches." He smiled in almost pride before continuing. "Wh-What else would you like to know?"
"What do you feel are your best and worst qualities?"
"I-I'm not sure. I-I suppose my twitchiness is one of my worst qualities." He answered before chewing nervously on his bottom lip. "A-And my stutter... I-Is that a quality? I'm never sure. B-But I'm friendly and a hard worker. I p-promise!" He nodded, his eyes bright with a new found confidence that only seemed to come with the idea of convincing the elderly shop owner that he could do this job. "A-And I'm trustworthy, i-in my opinion. B-But I suppose everyone says that..." He trailed off before looking back at the elderly man. "I-I can't think of anything else... "
"That's quite alright, Mr Charles. I do believe you've told me quite enough." The elderly man said softly, a small and somewhat comforting smile on his features as he stood. "I believe you might have the job. I will just need to see if there's anyone else who's better qualified."
Spencer nodded with a smile and followed the elderly man out of the back room and into the main area of the shop before leaving the shop and taking a deep breath of fresh air. How long had it been since he'd arrived at the shop? Spencer pulled the golden pocket watch from his waist coat to check. Only 10 minutes? It had seemed longer than that... Strange, it was, how time moved when you were occupied with other matters...
A car moved past loudly, startling the thirty-one year old, and there was no longer a man stood on the path but a somewhat dishevelled white rabbit with very wide eyes which then hopped down the path in hopes of finding his house - or somewhere to get back to human form - and hopefully not turning into a rabbit again...
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CROW. 4 YEARS. PM.