5 h 45
Robot
Avec un bâillement, Rob a giflé son réveil pour l'empêcher de lui crier dessus. Hier soir, c'était dur. Rien à faire à l'heure secrète, mais avant même qu'il n'ait été pressé une autre affectation tardive sur son ordinateur portable.
Stupide physique. Pourquoi cela a-t-il dû impliquer autant de nombres?Qu'est-ce qu'il y a?
Il jeta les couvertures de lui-même et se leva, se balançant dans la cuisine pour se faire un verre. Quelques minutes plus tard, une tasse de café dans les mains, il s'habillait de short et d'une chemise, tirant sur ses chaussures de course alors qu'il regardait par la fenêtre de sa chambre. Le soleil n'était même pas levé, mais il y était. Le crépuscule éclairait les rues alors même que les lampes déchiraient l'obscurité avec leur éclat lumineux et orange.
C'était son heure secrète. Pas d'heure bleue, rien d'autre stupide et fantastique. Juste lui, sa musique et la route.
Il a fini son café et a attaché son iPod à son bras, s'accrochant lui-même en sortant de la porte pour sa course du matin, une routine dans laquelle il s'était mis pendant deux ans et en comptant. L'exercice avait gardé ses jambes tonifiées et son corps maigre, un bon comptoir contre les déjeuners scolaires absolument horribles qu'il devait manger tous les jours. Avec quelques étirements, il a quitté la maison et a commencé sa course.
6h40
Rob s'est servi de l'eau de ses cheveux alors qu'il était assis sur son lit. Frais de la douche, il avait quinze minutes pour aller à l'école avant que la cloche du matin sonne. 15 minutes et il a dû se changer, faire ses valises et se précipiter et oh mon dieu pourquoi était-il encore assis autour.
Un soupir lassaire a échappé à ses lèvres alors qu'il brouillait autour de la pièce, s'emparant de son ordinateur portable, d'un bloc-notes, d'un étui à crayons, de trucs et d'autres trucs d'école et les a mis dans son sac de messager. Il s'habille de jeans, les genoux tabassés mais intacts, une chemise noire et des baskets, et quitte la maison à une marche rapide.
Son rythme l'a amené à l'école juste avant que la cloche sonne. Un sourire grandit sur son visage alors qu'il jonglait sur les marches et s'installa dans sa première classe, un sourire qui resta jusqu'à ce qu'il se souvienne de ce qu'était cette classe.
Physique.
Ah merde.
Name: Rob "Jack" Jackson
Age: 17
Height: 5' 9"
Gender: Male
Occupation: 12th grade, part-time baker.
Interests: Music, baking, reading, enjoying nature, sports.
Fears: Insects, deep water, heights.
Skill: Polymath
Misc. Info: He spends a lot of time admiring his surroundings and generally zoning out to enjoy nature and his music. If he zones out, all it takes is a tap on the shoulder to bring him back to the present. His favourite sport is baseball. All this, of course, is to drown out the constant mental drone of the numbers in his head causing him no little amount of stress.
Sample: 

Ah. The great outdoors.
Rob stuffed his earbuds in his ears and smiled, taking a deep breath of the early morning air. Crisp, clean, and perfect. With his iPod strapped to his upper arm and his favourite tunes being piped straight into his ears, he tied his shoelaces and left home at a quick jog. This early in the morning, barely anyone was out and about, but he was used to it. It gave him quiet time. Time to think.
Numbers constantly ran through his head. Mostly from his algebra and math homework, but he saw patterns almost everywhere he looked. In the cafe where he worked, in school, at home, even in nature patterns existed. They were part of the will of some higher being on some higher plane of existence, permeating every fibre of the mortal world. Normally his mind wouldn't work this way but because he was of the Blue Time, he had since gained a natural forte with numbers.
He thought back to his first encounter with the Blue Time; just over a year ago he'd stumbled onto the Secret Hour completely by accident when he was staying up to finish a last minute essay for his English class. The world around him, though he barely realised it, became indistinct and foreign as he scribbled on his lecture pad, and it was only when he'd finished that he realised that his alarm clock had stopped precisely at midnight. A strange occurence, no doubt, and as he explored his hosue and the neighbourhood outside he realised that what he was experiencing was uniquely his and his alone.
Well, not exactly. Upon exiting the garage of his house, he was almost immediately attacked by this strange dark creature that looked like a wild cat but was obviously different. It was only through the timely intervention of a fellow not affected by the strange frozen time phenomena that gave him the information he needed to survive, shortly before he was knocked unconscious and dragged away to parts unknown.
He tried to follow, of course. Armed with his baseball bat, rather hastily named "Actualisation", he chased after the creature that had taken his saviour and after an extended chase managed to track it down and killed it dead. Thanking him for his timely intervention, the seer and he parted ways, and he never saw the strange young man again. However, he knew now how to defend himself against the darkness that would cause him harm.
But what he didn't know was who he would meet on his adventures through the Secret Hour. Or the troubles they would seek.