Bastion Dellore was about 5'8" and skinny as a stick. He was clever and although small he had a quickness about him. Intelligent; creative; and cultured. Although not due to any education he was being given. His culture came from his own personal studies; he was considered a genius at school. Born with a lack of color pigment in his hair it was white as snow when he didn't dye it. Which he rarely did, but when he did he would always dye it a deep dark red; or an almost black brown. He used to be a little ashamed of his white hair; the other kids at school had always given him a hard time about it. Now he was in high school though; 16 and a Jr; he was a grade ahead of other kids his age. He had earned it with his grades and taking advancement placement classes. In high school though he found that white hair was actually cool and not weird; in a place where the unusual and unique is either the death of a young man or woman or what makes them; he found that his white hair and crystal blue eyes actually apparently was very appealing to the young minds and eyes surrounding him. Although he still got teased plenty; even for the white hair sometimes; but it was all part of the 'queer' package.
Being androgynous in appearance; soft of feature; and with a feminine build and shape; he was often mocked for being 'girlish'. The funny thing is that by nature he was actually very determined, passionate, and could have been a natural leader; if anyone had given him half the chance to do so. Bastion paid it little mind though; he had decided that he would simply focus on his studies; and pay them all back for it once he was their boss or something like that. He was on his way to the library after school when he noticed a new shop along the main street. He had never seen the like of it before; it appeared to have a great clock tower coming out of the roof; and great gears moving through the walls. Bastion is you; and you are fascinated by this new shop. You see that over the door in great wooden letters is spelled out 'The Clockworks'; perhaps it is some kind of Clock shop? You've never seen one; not a proper one and you couldn't imagine needing a clock; not like you had the money for one; but some strange deep curiosity has you pulled to the front door of the place. As you open it up you are shocked; for certainly it wasn't this big from what you could see on the outside; the inside is huge. It's also unlike any place you've ever seen before; with a large balcony and a front desk; and grated metal steps leading to a level below and open to the front area; in the center of the grand floor is a great gyroscope embedded into the floor.
There are a great many clocks hanging from the ceiling; most of them variations on the cuckoo clock. You look at one from the other; and wonder why nobody seems to be manning the shop. There is a curtained archway behind the desk; and you can hear some noises coming from behind it. You wonder if the shopkeep is behind it; as you wander closer and closer to the stairs. Finally someone comes out from behind the curtain; he appears to be a little taller then you; about 5'10" and the first thing you notice about him is that he has bright green hair; the second thing you notice is his mismatched eyes; the left one blue and the right one green.
~The Storyteller~
He looks a little older than you, but only by a year or two; and he has a great big playful grin on his face. "Oh hello! Might you be here for the job? Or are you just looking around?" He asks in an excited and friendly voice.