He Actively Gives Them Fuel - Tumblr Posts

Restored/Abandoned

Ancients had followings once.

Massive, sprawling networks ever in their service. They cared little for things in the long run, but that is not to say they didn’t acknowledge their followers power, their devotion, their borderline obsession.

Some watched over their believers, sometime to keep them from harm, sometimes just to know them. Some picked favorites and kept them close, even in death. Some granted desires at a whim, showering gifts upon those they deemed worthy. Some spoke to their believers, in person, or through that offered connection.

But Ancients had duties. They had realms and domains that could keep them blind to the worlds for a time that would only seem reasonable to something so long-lived.

And in that time, devotion would fade. Proof would die, and believers along with it. Their followings would splinter, their stories would grow warped, until not even their name was consistent.

They would cease to be known.

And while this did not effect them so massively, it was a shame.

It was a loss.

Now that you know of orders lost, I need you to think of a boy.

I need you to think of Danny Fenton, of Phantom, of a child who had people close to deities as role models, a strange sense of humor, and just enough spare time on his hands.

Think of a boy that would correct the broken versions of Pandora’s myth, of a boy that would hear of Father Time and rave about a clock tower of the most intricate build, a boy who would set down grudges and tell of dreams more wild than even Amity’s waking world.

And remember, this was Amity Park. This was a place mundanely haunted, a place known for it’s mystique. So, people heard, and they considered it. A few even believed it.

Cults already existed in Amity Park. It was not hard for more to form when it was Phantom egging on their conspiracy.

And the Ancients heard, and they might have ignored. But, that child was theirs as far ghosts cared, and he had given them believers.

So, much in the way a parent might stick a hideous crayon drawing up on their fridge, Pandora and Clockwork reached out to their new followings.

And like a curious sibling, Nocturne was just entertained enough to humor Danny.

Pandora gave protection for every offering delivered, talked into the minds of her zealots, and appeared to them as she pleased.

Clockwork chose prophets, gave prophecies and future sight without any comprehensible reason.

Nocturne spirited away resting minds, hiding them away in a deeper sleep, with more powerful, happier dreams.

And as simply as that, Amity knew Ancients, and they would not forget for a long time yet.