Part 1- Discovery In the Snow
It's been 1000 years since they were plunged into such an unshakable sleep, trapped within stone for so much longer than they would've liked… and after they had just begun to settle down in their new peace. Manhattan had been enjoyable, but smog ridden and full of crime. Their clan had flown for so long to find a nice peaceful place to stay, a place bereft of the complications of a large city… something of a vacation spot. Their journey has led them to a small area with a town called Karakura, the forests surrounding this place hiding a long forgotten mansion. The snow blankets the area as they investigate their new home, the gargoyles spreading out to cover more ground in case this place, too, has unknown threats. A young female with long black hair and light purple skin, wings clasped about her shoulders like a cape, that first finds the curious statue. That long thick tail, so reptilian in appearance, sways back and forth as she studies it.
"Father!" she calls. "Look what I found."
The girl's name is Angela, a gargoyle with a sweet disposition and an insatiable curious streak. The cold wind ruffles her sand colored tunic, thin spaghetti straps holding up a bodice that falls into a loincloth, but her thick skin feels nothing of the chill. A male that looks so much like her, though larger and built with much more muscle, steps up to her. His skin is a tad darker than hers, though still purple, his own wings are unfurled in an attempt to state his status as clan leader to any who may threaten those he protects. As he gets nearer, the others join them. There are eight in all, though one is merely a pet… more of a dog than anything else, it's skin a blue tinge with a light blue underbelly. The 'dog' has no wings, not like them, but it has spikes down the spine of it's back.
"Bronx! No, get back here!"
The one who spoke is small, much smaller than any of the rest, and is build far more differently. His wings are connected to his arms, so like a flying squirrel although they're obviously more bat-like in the webbing and spines. Olive green is his skin tone, his eyes large and almost innocent.
"Lexington, look what I found," Angela grins. "What do you suppose it is?"
"… A statue," he says flatly. "No gadgets, no wires, no chips… nothing to be concerned with."
"But… We're statues during the day," she points out with a smirk.
Lexington is a technical wiz, always taking contraptions apart and putting them back together, but rarely bothers to understand more simplistic things. It's not that he can't, it's just that they don't challenge him enough. Goliath, Angela's father, steps closer to the statue, brushing snow off the finely chiseled shoulder of the muscular male. He hums, curiosity his daughter shows often finally touching the surface of his eyes. There's not one… but two figures in this statue. Beneath the man sprawled on the ground… is a smaller female curled up with fear in their eyes. The snow hinders their sight, Goliath beginning to brush it off with the help of Angela and his mate, Demona. Demona is a lovely female gargoyle with long flowing crimson locks, light blue skin, and a demonic personality when in a fight. Goliath loved her more than anything, but a pact with a human named Macbeth kept her from him and they grew apart, only coming back together after everything that happened in Manhattan.
"Goliath, look!" Demona gasps.
He long slender, clawed finger points to a winding tail that emanates from the male statue. It isn't like them, that's for sure, but as they had slept for those 1000 years they had heard many evolutions had taken place. Gargoyles simply weren't the same anymore, as some were flyers and some walked the earth like humans. Some chose to turn to stone and others had no choice, much like themselves. Then there were those rare cases, back when females were scarce and nature needed to preserve their species.
"This could be an evolved gargoyle," Angela says excitedly. "I heard they can walk among humans without trouble!"
"Poppycock," a large older male scoffs.
Hudson used to be a clan leader, though now he's happy being Goliath's advisor. He's a burly man with a pot belly, a thick white beard, and thinning white hair. He's set in the old ways, one could tell that by his outfit without trouble… metal shoulder plates, mahogany tunic with matching gladiator bands around his ankles, sand colored pants, and a brown loincloth. He looks almost as though he'd fit in perfectly in the age of castles and kings.
"A gargoyle is a gargoyle, we're all the same," he grumbles. "These 'evolved gargoyles' are nothing but demons of nature."
"… Uh… aren't we demons, too?" a hefty gargoyle murmurs.
"Of course not, Broadway!"
"Actually, we are," Lexington mutters.
The old man throws his arms up in the air in defeat, as once Lexington starts something he never lets go until he's made his point. Angela growls in annoyance, going back to clearing away snow. The male's wings are curled to shelter the small female, but there are holes and tears in some of the membrane that would make that difficult.
"Mother… what happened to his wings?" she asks the only one still paying attention.
"… Hmm… It looks like he was in a fight," Demona says quietly. "That's so strange, it's supposed to be peaceful here. There are three clans in this area, but they've all claimed their own territories and one is never heard from. There should be no fighting."
"Not unless their own clans did it," Hudson suggests. "Like I said… a gargoyle is a gargoyle."
"True."
"Why won't they wake up?"
Broadway, the bald heavy set male with green-blue skin and spike down the back of his neck, leans closer to study the female. Pointing out what everyone else had missed, probably only catching it because of his extremely kind nature.
"The female is injured," he states. "They're probably sleeping off the injuries."
"So… can they choose to turn to stone?"
"I'm telling you, no one can do that!"
It's about that time when a crack splits through the silence in the area, everyone's eyes immediately darting to the statue as a single mark webs out and spreads. Small chips of ivory, not the usual granite the Manhattan clan turns to, start to fall to the ground little by little. The marble is a symbol of an evolved gargoyle… ivory, onyx, and a mix between the two. They all gasp as the creature within begins to move, slowly at first as it's just waking, and then it's released with a howl of fury and sadness.