Meet The Clan
Summary: The world needs more gargoyles but the breeding rate is pretty slow, so where do we get them? Bring the Wyvern clan back of course.
Authors note: Much praise to Hardwing, who first brought the clan back using the old 'using the time-stream as a cryogenic chamber' method (and beat me to the punch). My method is not to use an unseen past, but to write an unscripted future… and kill a Mary Sue in the process.
And in this version of events Hudson was hatched in 898, NOT 878, because it fits the plot better (they got old fast back then, coupled with PTSD from the loss of his mate).
Dedicated: to "Mans blind indifference to his fellow man and a whole generation who were butchered and damned."… Maybe Demona had a point… NAH! Actually dedicated to all the brilliant authors who write stories of such wit and depth that they are truly inspirations to us all.
Disclaimer: Let it be known that I own nothing in this story; these are canonical gargoyles, humans and educated extrapolations, but I did make up some people; try to guess whom. Disney and Buena Vista are the rightful recipients so send all tithes to them. Tolkien owns Gandalf, the elves and the rest of canonical Middle Earth, perhaps some reference to Harry potter and/or Discworld in here too… maybe (hell, its probably a sure thing).
The Labyrinth, 400 feet under Lower Manhattan, 2 AM October 28th
In one of the lesser-used tunnels a shower of golden sparks willed itself into existence, solidifying into the form of a remarkably beautiful young woman. She had strangely coloured eyes, lustrous hair, and the unmistakable shiver of magic about her. She had come to restore the clan of Castle Wyvern to its full glory… as well as get her ego inflated in the process, maybe snag a gargoyle husband and generally be worshiped like a god.
Unfortunately, she was a Mary-Sue… therefore she had to die.
A sword glowing pink was thrust through the top of her chest, coming out just below her collarbone, killing her instantly. Instead of blood, however, it was those damnable sparks that bled out. As she dissolved and dissipated, the one who had killed this abomination, a wizard by the name of Gandalf (or Mithrandir or Olorin depending on your source), watched his sword fade from pink to lustrous silver with a certain amount of disgust. These creatures were detected by mithril glowing pink instead of blue and he constantly worried about permanent discolouration.
As he was about to head up to the surface, he looked down at the one thing of the Sue that had stayed on this plane… her "magical thingy of mary-sueness": a deus ex machina object of infinite and otherworldly power (1), extremely powerful but also extremely unstable, constantly changing shape at its mistresses whim, lack of short term memory and questionable spelling. And it was as that moment that an almost treacherous thought popped into Gandalfs' head, seemingly out of nowhere: 'Why not do it again?'
The gargoyle population was sorely in need of more blood, even if it DID come from a clan dead more than a thousand years, and an entire community would be kinder to mortal eyes than a batch of random males. The Timeless Halls would surely forgive him returning souls to Arda whose help was needed (he hoped). He picked up the thing in its current incarnation, a sapphire set in a silver broach of Viking design and pocketed it before he returned to the sea of chaos that was currently New York City.
Castle Wyvern, 4 AM, Oct. 28th
The cool winds of a late autumn morning blew over the battlements of ancient Scottish granite on a castle on the tallest building in the world as 6 gargoyles and 1 watchbeast attempted to wait out the storm brewing below them. There was a soft ding as the express elevator arrived in the castle, where out walked Elisa Maza detective for the NYPD (and stationed at the 25th Precinct while the 23rd was still wrapped in police tape after the missile attack) holding a scarf and her formal dress cap under her left arm, into the half-lit Great Hall.
"Good morning, Detective Maza"
Elisa whirled around, and as highly strung as she was, the speaker would have normally found himself with a broken arm, a bent spine and his tongue stuffed up one of his nostrils. Fortunately, this was Owen Burnett, a man who knew the detectives temper well enough that he unconsciously put himself one-and-a-half paces out of Maza's reach… almost magically. His right hand was also a fist of stone.
He remained his stoic self as she calmed to speaking level. "Mr. Xanatos is currently asleep due to today's pressures, as are Fox and Alexander, although he wished me to inform you that you have been granted Carte Blanche access to the castle. Goliath is on the south tower; Hudson is in the media room monitoring the Major news networks, Bronx is with him I believe. And as for the Trio and Angela, the former were discussing what to dump on the anti-gargoyle protesters at the front entrance, while the latter was trying to dissuade them."
"Thank you… Owen." Elisa said cautiously, remembering how Puck would not enjoy being reminded of his geas, at this early hour especially.
"No thanks required, but if you reach the Trio before they do anything brash, could you ask them to not do it? This company's stock price is already suffering, and we do not need a shower of grape Jell-O added to the mix." The Major-domo, for the first time in their acquaintance, actually seemed a bit gloomy… or maybe it was just sleep deprivation.
"Now, if you can excuse me Detective, this body needs a few hours of sleep and I intend to get it before the household awakens. Good morning." With that, Owen padded across the empty hall, and Elisa took the time to actually notice his attire: flannel dressing gown and of all things bunny slippers; these slippers though were not the classic pastels, but the actual ash and brown of a real eastern cottontail.
Our fair detective first went to the so called "media room", which was just Hudson's television room with a digital set and some new recording equipment. As she opened the door, Bronx, the castle watchbeast, raised his head and barked happily, even getting up and going over to her. "Good mornin' lass!" called the old warrior over his shoulder as he flipped through such dedicated such dedicated news sources as CNN, NBC, and the BBC… oh, and FOX News as well (2).
"Hey Hudson." Said Elisa as she rubbed Bronx behind the ears.
"Goliaths been waitin' for ye, ye know." Replied Hudson in a surprisingly serious tone.
"I know." Sighed Elisa as she stood up "It wasn't easy getting here, you know. The city's just about ready to explode, and with the crowd in front I had to take a black and white around to the East Garage Entrance since there aren't a lot of classic Fords with police plates in this city and then with all the paperwork to replace and the moving…" Elisa ran her hands over her face in a very tired manner. "I'm rambling, aren't I?"
"Sounds more to me like yuir tryin' to distract yourself from somethin'… pertaining to Goliath perhaps?" Elisa looked a bit shocked at the fact that he knew even that much. But Hudson only developed a small wry smile. "You better be goin' if you want to meet with him, and by the way, if you catch the lads with a wash basin filled with 'grape Jell-O', could you stop them before they do anything daft?" Elisa had already raced off to stop the deluge before he had even finished, so the elder just shrugged and continued flipping.
Outside, battlements atop the Outer Gate.
"Are you sure this is such a good idea, Brook?" Lexington asked as one hand supported the bottom of the tub and the other levelled the edge.
"Yeah Brook, and I did make this Jell-o for Angela." Broadway looked down at the tub. "Although I may have gone a bit overboard."
"Hey, if those maniacs down there get through those doors, us, Xanatos, the whole building is toast. Just think of it as doing our part in the castles' defence. And remember: 'a gargoyle can nae more stop protecting the castle more then…'"
"He can stop breathing the air." The voice came from behind him, and was revealed to be Elisa, walking towards them with Angela in tow. The two females gazed downward and clucked their tongues disapprovingly. Elisa sighed in frustration. "You guys really going to waste all that on those jokers down there, where they could take it as an excuse to sue Xanatos and land the whole company in court, causing stock to plummet, forcing him to declare bankruptcy and have you back living out of belfries?" The young males looked down at the tub of grape jelly, then to Elisa, then to Angela, back to Elisa and finally back to the purple mass.
"No… I guess not." Said Brooklyn abashedly was he suddenly dropped his corner and hung his head. The other two males were jerked back into reality at the sudden shift in weight and were also forced to drop their load.
"So what do we do with it now?" pondered Lexington as he rubbed his bald head.
"Well…" began Broadway as he reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a mess kit. "I only brought 2 spoons, but I can get some more if you guys want to join in."
Brooklyn rubbed the bottom of his beak in thought. "Oh, I think we can manage without." He winked at Lex, who seemed to both understand and agree. So, just as Broadway was handing Angela a spoon, the other two males simultaneously dove face first into the Jell-O and began slurping like fiends.
Elisa grinned at this, and then looked up to the apex of the tower on the inner gate, where she spied Goliath who had been grinning also, but he turned his head and settled into a soft grimace as he noticed her noticing. That only launched her into a full-blown smile… she'd surely need it for the upcoming talk. She climbed the spiral staircase, thinking how she would handle the fact that she had strong romantic feelings for a guy with wings.
She, after what felt like an eternity, finally reached the windy top of Wyverns tallest tower. Goliath was once more staring out over the city, stony face frozen in thought, but turned as he heard her footsteps "Elisa?" He asked as she walked towards him.
"Hey big guy." She said as she, without any hesitation whatsoever, hugged him about the lower thorax. It was with much more tact that Goliath embraced her shoulders with both arms and wings.
For several minutes they stayed like this, simply sharing body heat, until Goliath ventured to breach 'the subject'. "Elisa… about what happened at sunrise…"
"Goliath." Elisa raised her head to meet his gaze. "Don't. I don't regret it and I was dead serious: I just don't do things on the spur of the moment. I love you, and nothing can change that."
"What about Jason?" asked Goliath, breaking the mood rather admirably. Elisa pondered for a minute over all the instances he could be referring to, until she came to the most embarrassing, most potentially treacherous, the most mind glaringly stupid incident concerning the now crippled Canmore.
Oh… crap.
"The kiss?" Asked Elisa, sighing that this was going to take a lot of mental wrangling to make even rudimentary sense of.
"Yes." Admitted Goliath, carefully unpeeling her arms from around his chest. As Elisa just began to muster, Goliath broke in. "Elisa, it is natural that, not knowing who Jason was, you would be attracted to him. He, as much as I can understand, is a prime specimen of the human male: attractive to females, intelligent, extremely literary and apparently shared your devotion to duty." He paused, appearing to think hard on something.
"And… the fact that Jason is a human is also relevant. Elisa, you deserve someone you can spend the entire day with, someone who you can display in public without being branded as something obscene. Someone… who can provide you with children." That last part was particularly difficult for both parties to stomach. Goliath looked particularly sullen, having just listed off the reasons why he would be a poor choice to be her romantic partner. Yes folks, Goliath: leader of Clan Wyvern, world traveler and victim of circumstance on numerous occasions… was developing an inferiority complex of all things.
Those same points, however, had given Elisa ideas for a retort to each. "Goliath?" Asked Elisa softly. He nodded, still feeling the unnecessary burden of his ladylove going for a human. "All those points do fit with what I thought of Jason… but they also fit you pretty well."
Goliath looked back and just managed to look surprised, even a little relieved that his own, carefully crafted arguments were being turned back on him by his beloved. "And about him being human… let me tell you something: I've dated 6 guys in my life: 3 are married, 2 are in prison upstate and the last one is a mafia boss in Rikers… yeah, I dated Dracon for a couple of weeks. The common thing in all of them is that, before I knew any of them more than a year, they turned into unmitigated disasters. You, on the other hand, are probably the best guy I've ever known. I'd rather spend the night with you than the whole 24 hours with someone I couldn't stand."
She took a breath, needing it after that long of a point. "And about the going out in public… you should know that the kind of bull that my parents went through after they got married would… how do you word it? Oh yes, it would 'Make Santa Claus himself vomit in rage'. Some neo-nazi idiots vandalized the hall outside our first apartment back in '73, when I was 4 years old. Being an inter-racial couple back then was tough, especially when neither of them was white." Even though it wasn't the most pleasant memory in her mental repertoire, she felt it was very appropriate to her argument.
"But we overcame it: we moved to the suburbs, dad went to the academy and when I was 12 he got those self-same bastards on a charge of arson. They got put away for 20 years and he got a much needed raise. And as to the… other thing." Elisa rallied herself for the closing salvo. "And as for… well, I admit it, I've thought about someday having kids. But thinking about it is a long way from wanting it." She went for the grand slam "Besides, being a cop, especially one with connections to a source of civil panic, isn't the safest of jobs, and I wouldn't want to be the mother that has to leave my kid behind because those idiots…" she pointed down, beyond the trio and Angela, to the city below "decided to take out their paranoia on me."
Goliath mulled on these, found them satisfactory, but decided that something was still bugging him. "But the kiss… why?"
"Because my (extended) family expects as many new members as possible: every family does to some degree. The point is… how do I explain this… Hudson once told me that in the old clan there was a big obligation for all eligible females to breed (3). Well, with humans it's sort of the same. Every family wants more members, especially when they can be paraded around at reunions. And for that one moment… I didn't want to disappoint my parents, what with Derek not able to show himself aboveground and Beth not bothering." Elisa thought she explained that rather well.
"Am I a disappointment then?" asked Goliath, his extremely literary brain still matching each of her arguments to his, and finding them satisfactory.
"Only in the field of reunions and photo albums." Said Elisa. "To make a last point, it was… a battle. Between wanting to fulfill what my family likely wants and what I wanted. And what I want is to be with you." She finished, putting her last sentence in the utmost simplicity.
Goliath… pleased with this yet admittedly wanting to discuss this further, immediately thought of something to occupy her time. "Are you hungry, Elisa?" He asked tentatively.
"A little. I was going to get a burger or something before going home."
Goliath mentally earmarked this moment for posterity. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he felt this was somehow important. "Elisa. It is dangerous for you to be out tonight. There is food in the kitchen. I know that you still hold no love for Xanatos, but at least take time to eat, if only for the clans sake." And for my sake, thought Goliath.
Amazingly enough, Detective Maza allowed this. As they began going down the spiral staircase, a strange series of gastro-intestinal sounds came up from the expanse below, but Elisa decided that if a city truly had bowels, they had to have occasional movements.
Two very lethargic young warriors were producing these gastric phenomena in actuality. Brooklyn was in a very sorry state for such a normally capable warrior and second in command, and Lexington not much better. They had just carved the top third off of the Jell-O in the tub, and were going to regret it for nights to come if just by sheer force of memory.
"You shouldn't have eaten so much, you know. I could have just put it in the freezer room." Said Broadway, looking slightly amazed at what he and Angela had just witnessed.
"Jell-O doesn't freeze well. It would have turned to gummy Popsicles." Groaned Brooklyn in a manner resembling knowledge, looking amazingly green for the brick-red colour of his hide, as he lay against the cornices.
"But you know, now that I think of it, it wasn't entirely a freezer. Parts of it were actually more like a fridge. How else were we able to make the stuff?" Asked Lexington, becoming temporarily coherent.
"Gee. Thanks for telling me." Replied Brooklyn sarcastically.
Two hours after Sunrise, Oct. 28th, Eyrie Building
Owen Burnett, now in his more usual attire of a three-piece suit, opened the door the office of David Xanatos. "The envoy from Eldemar Technologies has arrived, Mr. Xanatos."
"Excellent, Owen. I've just finished reassuring our oilmen in Russia that their jobs are secure. Send Mr. Olorin in." David Xanatos smoothed back his hair and adjusted his tie. This was a rough morning, if anything worse than yesterday. Since the beginning of the workday, he'd received ten voicemail messages from various religious crazies threatening the life of his family ('I should tell Fox, it's been a while since she went commando on anything'), another twenty condemning him to the fires of hell for harbouring 'demons', and four dozen various written diatribes, four with major grammar errors and one of those being written in crayon.
The envoy walked in as smoothly as… a very smooth thing, possibly rubber on polished marble. He was wearing a light grey suit jacket and slacks, and had a neatly trimmed white beard and hair. Now, to an astute omnipotent intelligence, this figure would be vaguely recognizable as the same being that took a certain deus-ex-machina as plunder in a subway tunnel. "How very nice to finally meet you, Mr. Xanatos. I assume you already know the basics of our offer?" said the man.
"Distribution rights, research exchange and what sounds to be a very substantial marketing strategy." Recited the Billionaire from tired memory, it being the kind of offer that any small to medium firm with good product would put forward.
"Correct, that and the favour I'm going to do for Goliath and his clan." This startled both CEO and Major-domo, who knew that very few groups new Goliaths name, and only one had even close to positive intentions for the clan.
"So…" said Xanatos, making a triangle of both thumbs and forefingers "I assume that this is what the Grandmaster meant by 'increased interest in the gargoyles' then?"
"No. Duval does not know that I am here. This is simply a favour for the clan." The envoy had made a similar sign with his hands. "A favour to insure that they appear much more sympathetic to those that would fear them." Putting his hands down, he reached into a pocket and took out an incredibly garish gold ring incrusted with all kinds of stones. "What if I told you that this little ring held enough reserve magic to turn Manhattan Island into a sea of small blackberry tarts?"
"Owen?" motioned Xanatos. The blonde, severe looking Major-domo walked toward the grey suited man, touched the ring with his left hand… and bounded back with an almost manic energy, his form seeming to waver as he tried to settle down.
"Owen?" Asked David, concerned at his assistants behaviour.
"I'm fine, Mr. Xanatos. It's just fortunate I never had an addiction problem in my youth." He said as he readjusted his suit. "The object does indeed posses a truly remarkable reservoir of magic, but it felt… strange, like the object had something approaching a personality. Did this ring have any strange former owners?" he asked Mr. Olorin.
"Just one… a very remarkable young woman. She was high of spirit and of modest but beautiful appearance. Quite a mage too by the sound of it." The envoy looked strangely at Owen, who interpreted it quite well.
"Ah… one of those. But I thought that objects like these were to be destroyed for the well being of the mortal world. How do you intend to use it?"
"Yes indeed? I doubt Goliath would be interested in magical jewellery after the Eye of Odin and Phoenix Gate affairs. Is this ring a gift?" Asked Xanatos most interestedly.
"No, but there is a gift involved." The elderly looking man narrowed his eyes. "The higher ups may not approve of it, but I will give the gargoyles their best hope of survival in this new world."
"And what would that be?" Asked Xanatos, fingers meshed and leaning back in his chair.
"What all disaster survivors desperately want... their families back."
Outside on the Parapets, 15 minutes laterThe envoy, correctly identified as Mithrandir, aka The White Rider, aka The Grey Pilgrim, and aka "Maiar voted most likely to lose at poker to his horse", stood on the ancient stones and held the strange object in his hand. It was presently in the shape of a small giraffe figurine cast in pewter with diamond eyes.
He raised it close to his mouth. "Alright, I don't like you and you likely have no choice in the matter, but if you do this, not only will you not be ground up for pixie dust, but I may have another job for you in the future. Just bring them back…" he thought for a minute. "And age them by one biological year, to keep everything in line."
He then released the thing, now a ball, into a contended bounce as it went from cornice to cornice, doing remarkable feats of rubble teleportation, cellular and genetic replication, memory retrieval and even some low level necromancy in each bounce. By the time it returned to his hand, roughly 150 more statues lined the battlements of Castle Wyvern.
"Good luck to you all. You'll need it."
Footnotes
1. Not meaning extraterrestrial or of the gods or of the Fey, but simply from "somewhere else".
2. If that indeed counts.
3. Including those that dallied with another female.