The Ticktockman sat in his office, his watches and clocks embedded into his clothings as well as walls and desk. He was surrounded by clocks, by time. He tapped his gloved digits on his desk, analyzing and counting each second. He couldn’t lose track of time. Not ever.

Tick…tick….tick…

He stared at the door from behind his mask on the other side of the room. The timekeeper had his hands clasped together, waiting for the next hour to strike. Ready to enforce his hand, to wipe out the cardioplate of the next person to lose too much track of time. Or, until some duty called. For now, he’d stay reserved to his space.