Winding the Clock Stem
Rating: K+ [Metaphysical talk warning. Some complex wording ahead.]
Pairings: None
Ages: Tale as old as time…
Summary: He had the distinct honor of being there at the very moment everything else came to be.
Extra Notes: At the bottom of the one-shot.
At first, he just was. He was everywhere. Then things began to change and actions started to occur in different orders some days more than others. It took a while for him to understand that those were the same days and the same actions but had also occurred apart from each other, separated only by a thin barrier.
It would be easy to assume that having the power over time would make one impossibly powerful. You can stop things, start things, divert and erase. All-powerful, all-knowing, untouchable, right? But the truth is more complex… Even with all that leverage, since I refuse to call it true power, time manipulation is more like a constant series of compromises and debates with nature. It is so very delicate. I am that thin barrier.
I watched the life of the first living thing fade and saw Death come and take it's essence away. I also saw the first living thing that had regret or fear too great to take it to the light. I wondered at where that light led and Death merely said it was a safe place. Some souls avoided it and stayed in the Zone, though it was not called that then, and others were drawn into a dark pit that let in no light.
I think it would be silly for me to try and say that things didn't change the most when humans came into the picture. Many of their texts state that man was made in the creator's image. Ironically enough, some of his creations were made in the image of man. I've changed my image many times over the course of history, with each age and culture that thought of me and my duty to nature. For the first time, I had a body and could better interact with the world.
First came the candle clocks, the sundials, then the hourglasses, but of all the time keeping devices man created… I've always been partial to clocks. It was the heartbeat of existence. It was my heartbeat. I suppose in some way I treasured each one I could find because they were like individual and personalized thanks for my work. Trying to commune with humans had ended terribly in the past and by the time the clocks came, no one but the oldest of spirits knew I was real. The clocks reminded me of my own existence and that the creatures I watched, were real too.
I hate the Observants sometimes but there are also no other beings that I associate with that have even a clue what it means or feels like to watch over time, to see life and death happening at a nearly constant rate…
I'll stop there, I wouldn't want to confuse you to badly; however, I will say that it isn't calming or boring. No matter what it seems to be in appearance, I'm never just watching.
So, I've watched all your wars, all your births, deaths, joys, pains, sorrows, mistakes, triumphs… There really isn't much to say, except one thing.
So many people ask or wonder why certain things have to happen, why avoidable things still come to pass, why I may or may not show favoritism… while I won't say I don't have friends with heartbeats, I show no favoritism. Things have to happen, even terrible things. There are spaces and timelines were things went very differently and I've lived or existed to the end of all but some. I thought that perhaps… there could be a timeline that turned out better than the others. And finally, after so many combinations of history and decisions, I stumbled upon a family of timelines with a very unique human being. A particular Daniel James Fenton.
I watched my future friend be born countless times and watched as he grew. His life would not be an easy one and the odds of everything falling into place and working out just right were slim. Even now, I don't know if this Daniel will make all the right choices or if everyone he meets and touches in life will make all the right choices, but I have hope. Hope is one of the few things someone like me can have and never loose.
He saw the relief fill his eyes for the hundredth time after he'd revealed his family and loved ones safe and sound to him. Thousands of other times he'd seen the boy loose his family and friends permanently. This time though… he'd never quite seen that look before. A sparkle, a determination, a goal and a purpose much greater and larger than the boy himself was becoming solidified in the child's very soul. Perhaps… this time… this play through was the one, the best timeline. He soothed the boy, telling him his family truly was safe and he'd get the second chance he so rightly deserved, and for the first time after once again sealing away Dark Phantom, Clockwork gave Daniel a smile and wink in return.
All is as it should be.
Notes: So basically this is sort of a poetic rendition of the 'birth' of Clockwork and his role in nature and the show. I feel like it's hard not to talk about the forces of nature without a layer of poetic flow or metaphysical babble.
I'm making ones for Undergrowth, Vortex, and a couple others that are more like OCs of mine, Gaia and Leviathan.
After those are done, tell me what you think of the poetic aspect of these 'biographies'. I will most likely fall back into a more narrative format of the origin stories of the more human ghosts, etc. Unless you all prefer such origin stories being told in poem form.
Would anyone like for me to write my own versions of the origin stories for ghosts and other characters in the show? I'm not sure about it. Sometimes just having a few hints about their past is enough, like Desiree and Pointdexter's stories being practically told in the cannon material. I'm not sure it's necessary to write them, but tell me what you think about me trying to do that in the future.
